2 comments/ 56474 views/ 27 favorites More Than Friends Ch. 01 By: More Than Friends Ch. 01 Heather was sitting on my roommate's bed and regarding me with implacable eyes. "What's on your mind," I asked. She looked at me for a moment, silent. Then, evidently she came to some mental decision, and spoke the results aloud: "You," she said. "I've just been thinking about how different you are." I looked at her. Different is a word fraught with meaning to me. I feel alone at all times because I am different, because I have been made to feel like an outsider by too many people, too many times, and now it’s hard-wired into my system. I could probably stand in a room full of clones of myself and still feel like an outsider. "What do you mean by that," I said aloud. "I just mean... How much you've changed," Heather said. "You know how it is: you know someone for such a long time that sometimes you don't catch on to their personal evolution until after it’s happened. Well, it's been like that for me. I'm so used to thinking of you as, you know, that I've totally missed that you changed. ...Am I making sense here, do you get it?" I nodded. "Adam and I have the same problem. Well, rather, I have it with him. He seems to be on the ball at all times." She gave me a distant smile. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he," she said. "Well, I'm up to date now, and you're very different from what I used to remember. But..." She looked at me again, her eyes focusing on me. "There's one thing I hope hasn't changed. "Colin, you... You used to have a crush on me, didn't you?" I blinked at her. For a second I wondered what to do. Then common sense kicked in. Now's your chance, GO for it! "Used to?" I said. "How could you forget? It was so obvious that everyone knew. Even, like, my cousins, who had never met you before--" Suddenly Heather was off the bed and hurtling into my arms, where she clung and buried her face in my chest. "I knew it! I knew it," she crowed, her voice muffled by my shirt. A sudden thought seemed to strike her. "You bastard!" She thumped on my ribs with a fist. "Why didn't you say anything? All through high school I thought you had forgotten about me! I was so--" A few more thumps. "Why didn't you say anything? Say something!" "Ow," I said. "Not that!" She pulled her head back and stared up at me with the fury of a brewing storm. "Why didn't you say something about liking me? All through high school I felt like I had been hung out to dry because you didn't notice me!" "Well, how do you think I felt," I retorted. "You and Adam were banding together in everything, I half thought you two would go out--" "Well, we know that's not true," Heather said. (Adam is gay.) "--and then you started taking up with all those crazy football jocks--God, remember Trevor?" That particular specimen had gone into drug abuse rehab before the end of his first year of high school. "I certainly wasn't their type. What chance did I have? And then you yourself, and your makeup and your tiny clothes and all. I mean, I barely had any idea what to do with Pamela Lee Gifford or whoever, much less you." "Uh, it's Kathy Lee Gifford," Heather said, a faint smile dusting her lips. "And Pamela Anderson Lee." "Oh, shut up," I said, grinning. I had mixed them up on purpose, to get a laugh out of her, and it had worked. And then, because I could, I bent down and kissed her on the lips. Just a short, quick peck, and that was all. But she followed me back, and I had barely finished moving when her lips caught up with me again. We kissed, our mouths coming open, tasting each other's breath. I pulled my arm around her shoulders, stroking her back, feeling the glistening texture of her fine hair. "Well," she said when we broke for air, "you seem to know what to do with me now." I laughed. "Yeah, but then I'd better close the room door, or else people will notice that we're, uh, busy." She let me stand up and I crossed to the door and closed it. It gave me a chance to compose my thoughts. We finally had this chance--I didn't want to ruin it. "Heather," I said. She was standing in the middle of the room, and when I spoke, she turned to me and gave me a smile that shone like daylight and made my throat tighten up. All the words left my mind, and instead of saying anything, I found myself walking over and putting my arms around her. She held me just as tightly, her head resting on my shoulder. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this to happen," I asked. "Maybe as long as I have," she said. "Did you know: back in grade school, I used to figure we'd get married," I said. "...Okay, maybe longer than I have," she said. She lifted her head to look at me, her voice serious. "It was more like when I came back for high school. For most of junior high I didn't think of you at all; I had too much other things to think about. But when I came back... It really struck me how much I had been looking forward to seeing you again. And that maybe I should ask you out. But when we first met, it seemed so..." I nodded. "Yeah. You had changed so much, I wasn't sure if you even remembered me." She laughed. "And you: you hadn't changed a bit. Still the same old Colin." "That's funny," I said. "They tell me I've changed a lot." "Well, maybe on the surface," she said, "but not so far deep down there is the Colin I always knew." "And I'm glad the Heather I knew has returned," I said. She grimaced a little. "Yeah. I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but I'm kind of glad I stopped caring about Kathy Anderson Gifford or whatever. When I was part of that, it was like-- Dependent on who I knew. If something was popular, I had to be on top of it, and if I was, I was popular. And it was pretty cool, but sometimes I just wanted to say, 'Hey, what about me?'" "Well, that's what Adam and I are for," I said. "Yeah," she said, and kissed me again. It went on for a long time. We were in no rush. We had waited to reach this place together, and now we wanted to savor it. "Do you remember sixth grade," I asked. "Yeah, what about it," she said. "What did we learn about in Health class?" I asked. "Uh..." She thought back. "Let me see, that was..." Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God, I remember that! That was when they taught us about sex!" I laughed. "Did you ever get, you know, The Talk from your parents? Err, sorry, parent?" She giggled. "No, not really, we didn't need it. Too much TV. But all they showed was naked people putting their hips together. I didn't really understand what was going on until those classes in sixth grade. You know, the--" She giggled again. "--the mechanics." "Insert Peg A into Slot B," I offered. She laughed. "Yeah. I didn't know about the nitty-gritty details and stuff until that class in sixth grade." "I didn't get The Talk either," I said. "My parents let Mrs. Chandler do that." Mrs. Chandler was our 6th-grade teacher. I remember those classes--they split the sixth grade into male and female rotations, there were only about eight students total, and played all these weird videos about The Miracle Of Life (TM) and all that. I remember everyone burst out laughing when they had a cartoon graphic of an evolving hard-on. And these were the guys. "Did you have any idea," Heather asked, a delighted smile on her face. "You know, that people did stuff like that?" I shrugged. "Well, I had already discovered the, ahem, the alternate uses for my exterior plumbing, but obviously the pipes weren't carrying anything at that point, if you know what I mean." I can actually remember the first time I ever ejaculated during masturbation. I don't know how many other people can claim that. "By the time that happened, I already knew what was going on." She nodded. "You know," I said, almost not thinking about what was coming out of my mouth, "a couple times during sixth grade, I kind of wanted to try that with you." Heather pulled back her head and stared at me blankly. As for me, I went back over what I had just said. Had I actually said that? Yeah, I had said that. Wow. The things you say when you're not paying attention. Seeing the complete astonishment on her face, I said, "Well, I mean. You asked me to help you find out what kissing was. It'd be kind of similar, you know, just... 'What's this?'" A bit of understanding crept across her face, and she nodded, though her mouth still hung open. I blinked. "Why, what did you think I meant?" She closed her mouth, shook her head out as though clearing her thoughts. "Well, I. I kind of thought you were, you know, lusting after me or something. And I was like, Wait, he was eleven, is that normal?" I gave her a wry smile. "Well, I did lust after you for a while, back when we first met. But gradually it died out. Or maybe it became part of my friendship for you. I wasn't kidding when I said you were the prettiest girl in that classroom, and you haven't exactly lost any of your looks since then. But... Well, you know. We were first graders. It's hard to lust after somebody when there aren't any... Outlets, if you will, for that feeling. I knew you were really beautiful and that I wanted to be as close to you as possible, but, like, if you had asked me to tell you how I felt back then, I wouldn't have had the words. Or the expressions, either. It took until you moved away for me to realize I wanted to kiss you again." She smiled and sung out a line from an old song: "Don't it always seem to go / That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?" "Hey, that was nice," I said, smiling. "What?" she asked. "I've never heard you sing before." "Yes you have." "Well, not loudly. Not like that. You were always quiet, and, like, embarrassed. I don't see why, you've got a nice voice." "Well," she said, looking away and fidgeting. "You and Adam, you know. You guys sung a lot, and you sounded great. Especially you, making up your own harmonies and all. And now you and Adam have that whole group of friends from your choir around you, and I know you guys can sing well--" "No, not all of them," I said. "Most of them, yeah. But definitely not Sherynn, and I'm not sure about Jane either." "Well," Heather said. "Whatever." I smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. She's just enough shorter than me to make it possible. We stood in each other's arms for a short time, standing close to each other, feeling each other's breath, each other's heartbeat. Her breasts were firm against my chest--I still maintain she has perfectly good breasts. I was developing an erection, which tends to happen when I'm hugging someone I'm attracted to. I don't hug people very often. Unless I'm going out with them, at which point it's not as much of a social faux pas to have a hard-on. Once Heather gave this contented little sigh and snuggled closer, and I thought I was just going to melt. In her arms was now officially my favorite place to be. Why had I ever left it? Finally she said, "Well, you've got me. I'm a willing prisoner of Colin Watson." I could hear the smile in her voice; I felt her breath tickling my neck. "What were you planning to do with me?" "I dunno," I said, contented. "What did you have in mind?" She was silent for a moment. "Well," she said, "you were saying you wanted to try that sex thing with me..." Oh, yeah, that was why I had stepped away. "Uh, Heather," I said. She retreated from my embrace, looked up at me, blinked. This clearly was not the answer she was expecting. I don't blame her. I mean, come on. Heather Norwellyn is widely regarded as an eminently attractive and desirable woman. What sort of person turns her down? I must be insane. But I had my reasons. "Heather, we have just this one chance to get things right. Not just sex, but, like, you know, us." "Is there an us?" she asked, mildly surprised. "Well, I'd like there to be," I said, and she nodded. "More accurately, I'd like there to be an us even if we have sex tonight. I know it can screw things up--" "How would you know, Mr. Virgin," she asked, flashing me a delightedly malicious grin. I rolled my eyes. "I may be a virgin, but I've seen what happened to my friends who stopped being so. And I don't want that to happen to us." She nodded, her face serious. We had both seen a number of relationships fall apart after its members realized that the only connections being made were between cock and pussy. Heather had been in one of those. For that matter, so had I, but mine had mouths involved, which is why I'm still technically a virgin. "Well, good," she said, "I thought for a second you were going to say you didn't want to have sex with me." I snorted. "Are you kidding? I'm a nineteen-year-old virgin, give me some credit here. Seriously, though. I would like to have sex with you, or make love with you, or whatever you want to call it. I was always..." God, how embarrassing to say this. "I was always so jealous when you took someone to bed, knowing that... He was getting something I wanted, and could probably never have. But now that I do have you... I don't want to mess things up." "Well, you do have me," Heather said softly, looking up into my eyes. "And we'll make sure we don't mess up. And that you get some." I smiled. "That sounds like a good deal to me." We smiled at each other for a moment. I looked over her face--those blue eyes now bright with joy, her shining smile, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, my favorite color and length... How the hell did I get so lucky? "Well," she said, "want to get started?" I laughed. "It isn't like a business arrangement or anything." "Well, how would you know, Mr. Virgin," she said, sticking out her tongue. "Oh, should I get out my wallet then?" I asked, laughing. "You better not, you'd make me feel like a whore," she said, her eyes dancing. "Unless you've got a condom in there or something." I shook my head. "Actually, I haven't got anything in the way of protection. Maybe we should go get some." "I thought that was what we were talking about," she said, giggling, and I suddenly realized my double entendre. "You know what I meant," I said, fighting back giggles. We must've been drunk, we were smiling so much. It hadn’t even been that funny. "Well, I am on The Pill," Heather told me, "so we can just go for it, if you want." I thought about it for a second. "Let's go to the store and get some condoms later." "And what shall we do now," she asked me. "Put that Pill of yours to the test, potentially," I said, waggling my eyebrows. "Oh-hhhh," she said with a wicked grin. "Taking some risks, I see, Mr. Watson." "Yeah, yeah, save the morality for later, you're not my mother," I retorted, grinning. "Well, I sure hope not!" Heather exclaimed, and we dissolved into random giggles. Finally we got ourselves together and realized we were still standing in the middle of the room. I held her tenderly. "I--" I love you, Heather. No, maybe not yet. She may not take me seriously if I say that. "I'm really glad you're here." She pecked me on the cheek. "I'm glad to be here." She took my hand and led me to the bed, and began taking off her clothes. "Well, come on, then," she said, smiling. I did as she suggested, after taking the precaution of drawing the blinds mostly closed. We were on the third floor, and I had already checked the angles before--no one should be able to see anything. Regardless, though. Then I got my pants and underwear off. It felt strangely formal. When I was done, I turned to her. I had seen Heather in a bathing suit before, but nothing prepared me for this. She stood before me without a stitch on her--she had even discarded her hair band. She had pale skin and enough muscles to give her body some definition. Her breasts were smoothly rounded and did not sag much; they reminded me of Heather herself--beautiful but not showy, with an elegant dignity to them. She had small pink areolas and little eraser-nubbin nipples. Her hips flared out from a slim waist, leading to long, smooth legs--and, of course, a juncture between them, a juncture I had often dreamed about. Her pubic hair was a neatly-trimmed triangle of deep, rich gold, darker than the hair on her head. I must have gaped for a while, because eventually Heather smiled and said, "You like what you see, I suppose." I tried to answer her and made a sort of gagging noise instead. I had to work moisture into my mouth. "Absolutely. I knew you were beautiful with clothes on, but, like... Wow." She giggled. "Well, you're not so bad yourself." She ran her hands over my arms and down my chest. "Looks like you've been working out a bit." I laughed nervously. Actually, I hadn't, but hey, who was I to argue? She ran her fingertips across my chest and over my nipples. I jumped a little. "Heehee. Tickles." "What," she said, "no one's ever touched your nipples before?" "Well, no," I said. "We mostly ended up paying attention to the woman's nipples." Heather rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't see why there should be any difference. Nipples are nipples, no matter which gender they're fastened to." "Yeah, but I just have these, you know, hard planes. You have breasts." She rolled her eyes again. "You know, Colin, these things are not the greatest things to have." "Yeah, I know, Lindsay complains about them too," I said. Lindsey is Adam's best friend. "But..." I reached out and covered her left breast with my hand; her nipple peaked against my palm. "I think they're pretty cool." She looked into my eyes. "Well, then, who am I to complain?" I bent down and took her nipple in my mouth, keeping my teeth out of the picture. With my hands I continued to massage her breasts, using only my fingertips to stroke across their surface, underneath them, at the tender places where they joined her flanks. Her breathing grew heavy and she pressed up to meet me. I let go of her nipple and began to kiss in rings around the surface of her breast. I paid special attention to the areole, which I could feel through its different texture. Then I kissed my way to her flank near her underarm, hoping I wasn't going to run into some sort of solid deodorant, and made tickling kisses down around the rim of her breast. The Internet says that this is a very sensitive place that is normally ignored. I don't know if that's true, but it seemed to be working. Stooped over but not caring, I worked my way across her chest to the other breast, listening to her heady breathing, feeling her hands ruffle through my hair, smelling a vague musky aroma that must clearly be her sex, smelling the clean warm scent of her body itself. Finally I reached the other nipple and felt it harden between my lips, heard her moan softly. "Colin," Heather said. "I'm going to lie down now. This is a little awkward. Think you can follow me?" "I'm right behind you," I said, my mouth full. It was an amusing maneuver: Heather trying to move slowly to lie down on the bed with me half overbalanced, teetering on one foot, following her, trying not to let go of this wonderful thing I had just discovered on her chest. It probably would have been easier to just stop and regroup on the bed, but hey, what can I say--we were so obsessed with each other we were basically drunk. "Wow," she said, once we had finally gotten ourselves arranged. "I never thought I'd be doing ballet." "I don't think--" I stopped to give her other nipple a gentle pinch and she hissed with indrawn breath. "--I don't think ballet dancers do the kind of activities we're considering." More Than Friends Ch. 01 "Well, at least, not on stage," she said. My left hand left her boob and began a meandering journey over her flanks, her belly, her navel, down to her right hip, and then over and toward that secret thing she had between her legs. I felt wetness on the inside of her thigh; and then my fingers were in contact with the object that is every (straight) man's nirvana. I let my fingers wander around her vulva, feeling her fleshy lips, trying to orient myself towards her clitoris. "You seem to know what you're doing," Heather murmured. "I thought you said you were a virgin." "Hey," I said, "I am a horny college student with a broadband Internet connection and waaay too much time on my hands." "Well, I see you've put that time to good use--" she began, and then cut off as my fingers brushed gently over her clitoral hood. She gasped breath and pushed her hips upward, wanting more. I spread her outer lips with my fingers as well as I could--my head was still up near hers, watching her face grow increasingly flushed, the clenching of her eyes, her gasps and cries of pleasure. Using my remaining fingers, I rubbed gently around her clitoris. I knew some girls were too sensitive to take direct stimulation, but Heather seemed only to want more. When I touched the hood directly, she jumped and moaned a little, but didn't say anything, and I took it as a good sign. Being unable to see was getting to be a hassle. I loved her face, and I wanted to see her face light up with the joy I was bringing her... But to do a good job, I would have to abandon that. And seeing as how this was my debut performance, I was determined to do a good job. But Heather had other ideas. "No," she said, as I began to move down her body. "Stay here." "Why, what's wrong with down there," I asked. She opened her eyes and looked at me. A sheen of sweat covered her body. "I think it's time to give you what you've been waiting for." "Are you sure," I asked quietly. Women were supposed to need more foreplay than that. She nodded. "You've waited so long, I think it's time to put an end to it. At this rate, you'll have another birthday before we get started." That might have been a slight at my technique, but I had other concerns. "But what about... You?" She grinned at me. "I'll teach you how to work with me later. Right now, though, I want to give this to you." She pointed imperiously. "Get over here, Colin, and put your dick in my pussy." I had to admit, I was kind of eager. But if we were going to do this, I wanted to do it right. But if Heather was serious... I stretched out beside her, putting my arms around her, and we kissed. As we did, she used her hands to coach me into position until I was basically lying on top of her. I felt rather nervous and strangely timid. I had wanted this for years, but... Suppose I screwed up? And I'd probably want it in future too. What would happen if I disappointed her so much that she refused to do it again? I'd probably go insane. "Use your elbows to hold you up," she whispered, and when I did, she spread her legs. I could feel my cock pushing against her vulva; I could feel the warmth and wetness. She reached down between us and I felt her hand positioning me at her entrance. "Ready?" she asked. I nodded. I felt the head of my cock slide inside her pussy, engulfed in warm, slippery-smooth walls that beckoned me with their secrets. As she took her hand away, I slid my hips forward slowly, feeling her lips engulf my shaft, feeling that incredible slick warmth surrounding my shaft, until I felt the pressure of her pussy lips against my crotch. I opened eyes I didn't remember closing and looked down at her. "Hi," I said, at a lack of anything else to say. "Hi," she said, a smile lighting her face. "You know, you can, like, move or something." "I know," I said. "I've never been here before. I just thought I'd take a minute and get acquainted." She giggled and kissed me. This was, of course, nothing like masturbation. Her pussy enveloped my cock, wetter than anything it had ever felt, and far warmer as well. Every time she moved her legs I felt it quiver and shift around me. If she moved them enough, I could probably cum right there. "My arms are getting tired," I said. They were shaking from holding my weight up. Maybe I should work out. "Then just lie on top of me," she told me. "I don't think you're that heavy." I did, letting myself down slowly. Her breasts yielded to my weight and she put her arms around my back, her legs around my waist. I felt their warm tension against my hips and felt welcomed. "Heather?" "Yeah?" "Well, I... I wanted to thank you. For... Giving me this." She giggled. "You sound like you just won a prize or something. This isn't the Academy Awards. We're having sex." "No, but... Still." It was impossible to express just how I felt: how long I had loved her, how much I had hoped this one day might come to pass, how happy I was that it had, how much I loved her. "I... Just... Thank you." She rolled her eyes. "If you insist..." She looked at me with a gravid dignity. "You're welcome." Then the jesting tone left her eyes and her voice. "You're welcome, Colin." I kissed her again. Our mouths met open, our tongues intertwined, and slowly I began to move inside her, shifting my hips back and forth. The feelings of velvet friction around me were maddening. Judging from her reaction, she was enjoying it as well. She broke the kiss, her mouth still open, and began to run her nails up and down my back. Waves of pleasure broke across my body, building in pressure behind my groin, urging me forward, but I kept to my pace. "I probably won't... Last long," I said between breaths. "That's... Okay," she replied. "And you're sure... It's okay for me to... Come inside you." She giggled. "Why do you have to-- (Ooh.) --To be so responsible?" "Well, that's what, that's what happens when I'm in the vicinity of pussy." "Heehee. How would you know, Mr. Virgin--" I laughed. "Oh, shut up! I'm not anymore!" She kissed me, and I gave into the pressure, beginning to move faster. The bed began to rattle from our exertions. I could feel her flexing her hips up to meet me, wanting more. Something within me sparked: This is it. I realized she wouldn't turn me down, wouldn't turn me away, wouldn't declare this some complete disaster. We were made for this. We were made for each other. Soul-mates, maybe. But this is right. We belong. "Soon," she grunted. "More like now," I replied, and barely a moment later I rocketed over the edge of ecstasy, arms wide, dropping like a stone and loving every second. I felt myself stiffen, tense, I pushed myself as deep as I could go; and then the end was there, and my cock throbbed against the walls of her pussy, seeding her with my cum. Her legs tightened around me, drawing me in as close as she could. Then it was over, and all that was left was the sound of our breathing. Once I could get anything resembling a coherent sentence together, I said, "Sorry-- For not-- For not lasting any longer--" She looked up at me with serious eyes. "Don't apologize, Colin," she said. "Don't ever apologize for being yourself." "Uh--" I said. "All right. I'm sorr... Err." She giggled at me and I giggled back. I withdrew from her embrace slowly--with my penis in its oversensitive state, I wasn't sure I could manage anything more--and then curled up beside her. Understanding my intention, she rolled up on her side, and we spooned, her ass against my hips and my hand cupping one of her breasts, just because I could. "So, how was it," she asked. "Uh--" I said. What did she want to hear from me? At a loss, I said, "Well, it wasn't like jacking off." A giggle escaped her, making her shoulders shake slightly. "Well, I sure hope not. A pussy is very different than a hand." She giggled again. "Wouldn't it be weird if girls had pussies instead of hands?" I laughed--it was quite an image--and kissed the tender spot behind her ear. "It was wonderful. Not just the sex--it was wonderful being with you." She turned to face me. "Well, I'm glad you think so," she said, "because you owe me an orgasm or two." Then a smile broke across her face. "I'm glad you liked it. And I liked being the woman who gave your first experience to you." I pulled her close, and we held each other, her head curled against my chest, my arm draped over her. I don't really know how long we stayed there, but eventually my breathing slowed down to normal levels. Around that time, Heather spoke up again. "You know, you're the first man to come inside me." I was a little surprised. "What? What do you mean?" She gave me a level look. "I mean, I normally make him wear a condom. I'd rather be safe, and two forms of birth control are better than one. Plus, it keeps the STDs away." A playful light came into her eyes. "And it helps with the endurance aspects too, if you know what I mean." I nodded. It made sense. "Well, why did you let me, then," I asked. She was a long time in replying. She fidgeted--she looked for chest hair to play with, but I'm about as bald as she is in that respect. She settled for drumming her fingers on my ribcage. Finally she looked up again. "Because I wanted it to be special. It was your first time, it should be, you know, pure. And because... Well..." She looked down again. "Never mind." I blinked. "Okay..." After a short time had passed, I said, "You wanna go get those condoms now?" She giggled. "What, interested in another go-round?" "Well, yes," I said. "And also I have to make good on those orgasms I owe you, right?" She smiled. "I was kidding, you don't have to." "I want to," I said, and meant it. Watching her moan and twitch and push up against me as I pleasured her... Well, I wasn't exactly sure what was so attractive about it, but I knew I wanted to have that happen again. And preferably a lot. "All right," she said, "but... Well, first I want to tell you something." I blinked. What could she possibly have to tell me at this point? "Go on." "Well..." She looked away for a moment, and then directly back at me. "Colin, I love you." I was flummoxed. What were you supposed to say to that? Well, besides the obvious, that I loved her back. Which I did. But what had she meant by saying it? Was it just because we had had sex? Was she jerking me around? I doubted it--Heather could be dishonest when she needed to, but it wasn't her inclination. But what did she mean? Before I could take a breath, she dove on. "I'm not just saying that, I really mean it." (Whew, that's the major worry taken care of.) "I... I realized how much you meant to me. About halfway between my house and here. I never had sex with Jason, even though we were going out for--God, seven months? It was because you had just broken up with Jane, and every time I thought about having sex with anyone, it just kept being you... And it finally struck me how much you meant to me." Her face was vulnerable, wide open; she was holding nothing back. "You're a great friend, but even more than that, you look after me and care about me." A faint smile flitted across her face. "And you're pretty hot. But, honestly... You're just... You're my best friend, you're the most important person to me. I want to keep doing this. I want to be your lover. I want to hold you when things get tough and you cry." Her hand caressed my cheek. "I love you." "Well," I said. "I'm... I'm glad you said that. If not, I would have had to. Heather, I love you too. I love you. I think I first realized when you moved away. I hadn't ever lost anybody important, but for the first few weeks of seventh grade I was just... I walked around with my heart cut out. It was terrible. And when you were gone I realized how much you meant to me. And then you came back, and I just wanted to hold you and kiss you, and..." I sighed. "But, of course, you were seeing people, so who was I to go flirting with you. But I guess now we're both free, and I can tell you and not have you, you know, laugh at me because I'm not being serious. I am serious. Did you know that back in elementary school I wanted to marry you?" "You mentioned that before," she said. "Did you mean it?" I nodded. "Yeah." Her eyes widened and she laughed. "Honestly? You meant it?" I nodded. "Yeah, absolutely. I was worried about how it'd be, like, twenty years before we were ready for that, but I wanted to. You were the most important person in my life back then. And I guess that hasn't really changed." She smiled at me and tears filled her eyes. "Well, it's still a little too early to be thinking about marriage, but I know who I'll be looking up first when the time comes. I love you." I kissed her. "I love you." Eventually we would have to get up and get condoms. Eventually (probably all too early) Heather would have to call her mother and probably be ordered home. Eventually time would keep moving. But for now, we held each other tightly, enjoying the glow of being in love, of holding the one we loved. Of being together, finally, and never intending to let go.