“We are?”
“Yep.”
She turned toward me then, first bending her knees up onto the seat and then raising herself up so she was sitting on her legs, facing me. She angled her head off to the left to look into my face. I didn’t move. My insides were still all twisted up.
“You know,” Mayra said softly as she tilted her head farther over to look at me, “I was just about to give up hope. I would have asked you out a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure how you would take it. I’m glad you finally asked me.”
“You are?” I glanced up at her for a moment then looked away again. Everything was happening so fast and so slow at the same time, which was leaving me horribly confused.
“Of course I am.” In my peripheral vision, I could see her shaking her head.
“You never look at me,” Mayra remarked suddenly.
I tensed and tried to understand her tone. She didn’t seem angry, but memories of other times when people have made the same statement in anger were haunting me. It was often the last thing they would say before walking away from me and not coming back.
“I do,” I whispered as fear began to creep in. My hands were starting to shake. “I look at you more than almost anyone else.”
“It’s okay.” I heard her quiet voice beside me. I stared down at my lap as she moved a little closer. “Matthew, really—it’s all right.”
I felt the tips of her finger against my jaw.
“Just look at me,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I forced my eyes in her direction as she put pressure against my jaw, turning me toward her. Her eyes were so flawlessly brown, and her lashes were only slightly darker and completely devoid of any chemical compounds to make them look longer. They didn’t need it.
So beautiful.
Unable to hold her gaze any longer, I lowered my eyes and looked to the right, focusing on the light green stripe that ran down the sleeve of her shirt. Every muscle was still tensed, and I knew I would have to hit the heavy bag tonight.
“Why is it so hard?” she asked.
I had no idea what to say. No one had ever asked me before. No one had ever just come right out and asked like that. How could I explain that sometimes it actually hurt to look people in the eye, like maybe they could see into me and see something awful? Even worse, maybe I would see something inside of their souls, and I would find out something horrible about them. What if reincarnation was real, and if I looked long enough, I would be able to see the past lives of the souls inside of people?
Maybe she’d figure out what a total freak I was for even thinking these things.
Her fingers stroked over the edge of my jaw, tickling it a little. I tried to glance at her again, but I still couldn’t hold my gaze. I looked down, and my eyes focused on her mouth as she wet her lips with her tongue.
“It just is,” I finally said. It was probably the lamest answer in the world, but it was all I had.
“Close them, then,” she said.
“What?” I asked. I looked at her lips again as she moved a little closer to me, so close, our faces were almost touching.
“Just close your eyes,” she said softly.
Not ready, I thought to myself, but the internal battle had already gone into overdrive. I knew what she was thinking—I didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand as she moved our mouths closer together. Part of me wanted to run screaming from the car, but there was another part, one deep inside the pit of my stomach, that wanted to know what it was like.
My eyelids drifted closed.
I felt the touch of her lips—warm and soft—against mine.
I couldn’t believe what was happening, but there was no way I was going to stop it.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t even breathe.
When I felt the touch of Mayra’s lips against mine, I just froze. I sat there on the seat of the car with my eyes closed and just felt the pressure of her mouth on mine. She pushed gently, then just a little harder. My first and second kisses combined. The pressure stopped briefly as I heard Mayra take a short breath and then resumed.