For Her (The Girl I Loved Duet 1)

I hadn’t thought about what it must be like to want someone so much in a society that barely allows anyone to touch. No wonder the filmmakers took the time to focus on the tiny details like simple touches on the hand.

The chemistry between the characters in this scene is burning, and I could swear that even though they’re furious at each other, that they’re going to kiss. But they don’t. They hold themselves back even though you can tell it’s the only thing that they want to do.

I look at Amber, and for just a second in the dim light, I swear that she’s looking at me, but the next scene is brighter, and she’s just watching the film. The air feels changed now, charged, and I’m far more invested in the outcome of the film than I ever imagined. Even though I already know the ending—after all, I’ve read the script.

The reunion between their characters is romantic and breathless, and I can understand why this story is a classic. Both of these characters have flaws. They’re not too perfect and they both screw up massively, but they still find a way to forgive and find each other.

For a second, I think about my mom. We’ve both screwed up, and I would love it if we could somehow find our way back to each other and start again. But who knows if that will ever happen or if that will ever be a possibility.

The credits roll on the film, and Amber sighs. “Such a good movie.”

“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”

She doesn’t move to turn on the lights, so we’re left in shadowy dimness. I’m glad. I think the atmosphere that’s been created would be shattered.

“So what scenes do you want to run?”

There are two that are on my mind. “The last one.”

“Okay,” she says softly, turning toward me on the couch.

I start the scene, asking her about the visit Darcy’s aunt made to her the night before. I can empathize with Darcy here. His aunt had his best interests in mind, even if she went about it in a completely misguided way.

And then it’s there, and Darcy is confessing his love for Elizabeth, and it feels so natural to be saying this to Amber. I won’t pretend that I’m in love with her the way Darcy is with Elizabeth, but I think it would be easy to get there.

Then I realize than we’ve been staring at each other because we’re out of lines. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, and I didn’t realize how we’d moved toward each other until right now. We’re so close, and I can’t breathe.

Yes…no.

Yes.

I’m going to kiss her.

I take the surge of confidence while I have it. Just like the movie, I lean in and press my forehead against hers. Amber gasps softly, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask softly.

She bites her lip. “There aren’t any kisses in this scene.”

“I know.”

And then I kiss her.

It’s soft and barely there, and everything in my body suddenly feels electric. I feel like all of my breath has gone and she’s the only way I can get more.

Then it’s over and we pull apart, and I don’t move. I’m staring at her and I can’t believe that I just did that. That we just did that. But there’s nothing I want more than to do it again.

Amber blushes, smiles, ducks her head, and suddenly she’s off the couch. She practically sprints toward the stairs, turns around and comes back. “Snacks, I’m going to get us some snacks. Is that okay? Snacks.”

She doesn’t wait for me to answer, just disappears up the stairs. I can’t stop smiling. I’m not sure what to do. I guess I’ll wait for her to come back and spend that time reliving the best ten seconds of my life so far.

There murmur of voices floats down the stairs. Shit. I completely forgot about Amber’s parents. Should I have not have kissed her while they’re here? If they weren’t here, would she have let me kiss her again?

I’m not exactly Casanova. My life to this point hasn’t let me hang out with a lot of girls. When I lived in Virginia, I was too busy working and taking care of my mom to date. One point scored for Massachusetts.

Amber comes down the stairs again, and she’s holding a big plate of cheese and crackers and a couple of sodas. She sits down with the plate in between us and hands me the soda. “That was nice,” I say. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” she says.

Nerves jump through my gut. “Did I—was that okay? I’m sorry if—”

“No!” she interrupts me, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It was fine. Great. I was just…embarrassed.”

I pick up the tray of crackers and move it to the coffee table because I don’t want it between us. If I get the chance to kiss her again, I don’t want it to be thwarted by cheese. “Why embarrassed?”