She paused for a second. ”You’re a good kisser,” she said. ”Thank you,” I said, pausing, and then adding, “So are you.” But she wasn’t really, I thought. Either that, or this was the way making out was going to be for forever.
I stared at myself in the mirror back at the room, weighing the night heavily. It was a mistake. I was here with my family, who I had grown up with. To me, it was a bizarre switch to go from attempting to lift a girl onto a railing while kissing her, to watching a Spanish cartoon in the room with my dad and sister. But, I assumed that was what making out was. Everyone has a family they go home to after they make out.
| — |
I read this whole post earlier. Quality. |
