It was his first kiss, her second. Perfect, almost.
They were young. He felt brave and she felt vulnerable.
She called him, said come over. She lived half a block away.
Walking that half block, he was excited, trying to commit to memory exactly what he had done to make tonight happen.
She let him in. They weren’t sure what to do, but they did it anyway.
In the biblical sense they didn’t go far. He didn’t know he could ask for more, yet.
Afterwards, he said, “thank you.” She thought that was a weird thing to say.