Azalea

For a girl who liked to wear so much black, she had a pretty colorful apartment. There were posters and paintings all over the place. Her couches didn't match. Her table was rickety and covered in papers and envelopes and stamps. She had hard wood floors. Her hallway was pink, bright pink, with white stripes and an air of bubblegum innocence that clashed so much with her harsh personality that I didn't know what to do. Her bathroom was clean and white - white everywhere. She made me lean against the wall and keep my head back as she poked through her medicine cabinet.

She had been silent all throughout the cab ride and way up to her apartment.

"You're a stupid, stupid boy," she said, almost slamming the first aid kit on the sink. It was the first time I'd ever seen her not collected. Maybe she felt more comfortable since she was home and all. She started dabbing at my face, wiping the dried blood away. I hope Phillip looks worse. I really do. "Why?"

"He hit you."

"It wasn't the first time." It's like she's trying to justify it and it's not okay, it's not and it makes me more upset than I thought I was before.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd do anything, and I really didn't think you'd try to beat him up." She's shaking and I feel bad - did I scare her? Does she think I'm some crazy person who just flies off the handle all the time? I'm not.

"He shouldn't be hitting you. No one should ever hit you."

"You're stupid," she says again, throwing away the bloody cotton ball. She leans her forehead against mine, sighing. "You're stupid, and reckless, and - and - and - "

"I want to kiss you." She stops short and looks at me, knitting her eyebrows together.

"What?"

"I've been thinking about kissing you ever since I met you and I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Why didn't you?"

I blush despite myself because she's so blunt and honest and I'm not used to that, not really, and I like it a lot more than I really should.

"I didn't want you to think I was being forward. And then there's him, too." I shrug. "I didn't want to make things awkward, 'cause, you know, I don't think you see me that way and you can't just kiss people - "

"I want you to kiss me."

"You don't have to say that," I say with a soft laugh, smiling before wincing because my face kind of still hurts.

And then she's kissing me and pressing me into the wall and she's really soft and I like this and I like how we fit together and I like that I forget about fighting Phillip and hating him and feeling guilty about Hope because I'm kissing her and I like kissing her. A lot.

"You're the first boy to tell me he wants to kiss me." She smiles, and I kiss her again because her lips are soft and she's warm and inviting and I don't want to stop kissing her ever and I don't know if I can because it's too much and I can't help myself.

"Stupid, stupid boy," she mumbles, dragging me to her bedroom.