Page 4 of Doesn't Count

“What do you know about first kisses?” I scoff.

“I know that the reality of them is nothing like the ones in your stupid romance books.”

“They can be!” I argue.

“Prove it!” he challenges.

“Shut up!” I shriek, laughing off his words as being playful. Oliver and I have never crossed that line and never will. We’re best friends.

He smirks, looking away. There's another long silence between us as we watch the water from the stream rush over our toes. Oliver is the first to break it again.

“Well, when you do get that boyfriend and he gives you the kiss of your dreams, promise me you’ll never forget about me?” His request is quiet, the energy around us shifting.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I reassure him.

"I’m serious.”

“Oliver, you’ll always be my best friend. No matter what happens or who happens.” I nudge his shoulder with my own before leaning back, my fingers sinking into the soft ground behind me, my face tilting towards the sun.

“You say that now.” He whispers.

My frown is instant. “What makes you think I would give up years of friendship for anything? I need you in my life Oliver. How will I survive the next four years of high school without you?”

“You’re good at making friends, Ash. You’re friendly, outgoing, fun to be with. It’s only a matter of time before someone snatches you up and I’m left behind to fend for myself.”

“Okay, don’t be so dramatic.” I roll my eyes. “If anything, it will be you that’s snatched up and me left behind.”

I drop down to my back, laying on the grass wiggling my toes in the stream. Oliver rolls to his side, the features in his face etched with uncertainty. I can tell he’s actually concerned about the upcoming years and where it will leave our friendship, but nothing will change.

“You know that’s not true.” He scoffs.

“Look, I promise that we’ll always be there for each other. That no matter what, it will always be you and me.” I smile up at him, offering my pinkie.

Hesitantly, he takes it, locking our promise down, solidifying it like it’s written in stone. I expect him to be relieved, for him to find my words reassuring, but his face says otherwise. His brown eyes swarm with hesitation.

With his pinkie still hooked around mine, Oliver bends down. I can feel the flutter of his hot breath skating across my skin, his heart pounds beneath his bony sternum. It pounds so hard, that I can feel it when he leans into me. I wonder for a moment if I have something on my face, a loose eyelash threatening to slip under my lid, or perhaps a spec of dirt from the ground. Instead, his face closes in on mine and suddenly our lips are touching. Our pinkies clasped between us, his mouth rests gently on mine for what seems like forever. When he pulls away, his eyes search my face for my reaction.

I’m momentarily stunned, utterly confused as to why Oliver would do that. My hands fly to my lips as my eyes widen at him. Shock causing the world around me to freeze.

“Say something.” He begs me.

All I can do is shake my head as tears begin to well up in my eyes. I can’t stop them from falling, even though I wish I could. I don’t want this to be my reaction. I don’t want to hurthim and the way his face falls in heartbreak and disappointment is crushing.

“Why did you do that?” I finally force myself to ask. “You know I was saving my first kiss!”

His mouth opens, but not a single excuse comes out. I haul myself up to my feet, dusting the dirt off the back of my jean shorts.

“It’s okay, it was just a mistake. We can pretend it never happened.” I cut in before he can get a word out. “It doesn’t have to count.”

Oliver brings himself to stand, his hands in his pocket, his amber eyes avoiding me.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He argues, his eyes flitting up to catch mine briefly.

“Oliver, we’re friends. You don’t kiss friends.” I tell him as if it’s the number one rule in the book of friendship.

“What if I don’t want to just be friends?” he asks, a sharp bite to his tone.

I search his eyes, looking for some glint of a joke, but don’t find anything. Whenever I thought of my first kiss, I never once considered it with Oliver, but now I’m forced to face these feelings I didn’t know existed inside of him. My mind reels as I dig deeper, trying to find some reciprocation for his admission. I consider all the times he’s held my hand, hugged me, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and all those times I never felt anything other than comfort. There wasn’t a spark like all the books described, no beating of my heart, or warmth in my body. It was mere comfort, contentment, familiarity. Oliver is just a friend.

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