He heaved and she collapsed on
top of him.
Her face was inches from his, her breath moist on his face. They both
panted, and he smelled her hair, which was over his face and neck. She
leaned forward and closed her eyes expectantly.
He tentatively brushed his lips across hers, and she moved closer, and
they kissed. It was wet and a little gross, but not altogether
unpleasant.
She leaned back and opened her eyes, then grinned at him. "That's enough
torture for one day," she said. "You're free to go."
#
She "tortured" him at morning and afternoon recess for the next two
weeks, and when he left school on Friday afternoon after the last bell,
she was waiting for him in the schoolyard.
"Hello," she said, socking him in the arm.
"Hi," he said.
"Why don't you invite me over for supper this weekend?" she said.
"Supper?"
"Yes. I'm your girlfriend, yeah? So you should have me around to your
place to meet your parents. Next weekend you can come around my place
and meet my dad."
"I can't," he said.
"You can't."
"No."
"Why not?"
"It's a secret," he said.
"Oooh, a secret," she said. "What kind of secret?"
"A family secret. We don't have people over for dinner. That's the way
it is."
"A secret! They're all child molesters?"
He shook his head.
"Horribly deformed?"
He shook his head.
"What, then? Give us a hint?"
"It's a secret.
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