21

On Saturday morning, I wake up at six o'clock. It isn't my intention – believe me – but that damned neighbors' cat fault. At least once a week it starts meowing loudly, in the middle of the night. At least today it started at six, and not like two, but it's still really annoying.

It goes on for about fifteen minutes until I can't take it anymore. I get out of bed and go to the cellar, where we keep the water guns. I fill it up and step outside in my pajamas. I point the gun at the cat, which is looking at me curiously. I fire and hit him on the back. He jumps up and scrambles away in fright.

"That'll teach you to wake me up," I mutter.

At that moment I feel a droplet fall onto my head. I look up just as another drop of water lands in my eye. "Ow! Jesus!"

It quickly starts raining heavily, so I run back into the house and dry myself up. It's still pretty early, but I know that I can't go back to sleep. It's just not in my nature.

I decide to just start my day. I change into some baggy clothes – perfect for a rainy day – and head downstairs for breakfast. I eat some breakfast, then I make myself a cup of hot tea and go back to my room.

I should probably do some homework, but it's still seven thirty in the morning – too early to do anything school-related. With this thought in mind, I open my book, walk to the couch next to the window with my tea in hand and start reading calmly.

At lunchtime, my parents come downstairs. My father has to leave right away, so that leaves me alone with my mother. We cook something together, but we don't speak: we haven't talked since our fight.

As usual, I have to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen, and I make sure I clean it well this time.

I ask Tom to send me his address, but he doesn't answer until two hours later. At three forty-five, I get my car keys and get in my grey Volkswagen. It takes me about ten minutes to reach Tom's house, so I have time to look around. I've never been to this neighborhood, but it's actually pretty nice. Rows of colorful houses are placed on each road, and flowers fill every garden. Sadly, the bad weather kills the joyful mood of the place. The rain is bouncing off my car loudly, and I curse for not bringing an umbrella.

At four o' clock exactly, I run out of the car and under the front porch. I ring the doorbell, and I immediately hear steps approaching. The door unlocks and Tom appears in the doorway. Again, my heart skips a beat.

"Hey," he says with a smile.

"Hi," I say back. "Sorry if I'm a little wet. I didn't bring an umbrella."

He chuckles. "Don't worry about it."

He makes way for me as I walk in. It's a cute house: simple, colorful and homey at the same time. I certainly didn't expect the cool guy to live in a place like this.

"I thought we could work in the TV room," Tom says. "It has a small table, and it's private. My parents are here, and I don't want them to distract us."

"Yeah, that's fine," I say.

I follow him through the house to a small room on the lowest floor. There is a low table in the middle, then a big long couch that faces the I-don't-know-how-many-inches-but-really-big TV. Behind the couch is a huge window that shows the garden.

Tom gives me a pillow to sit on - the table is only like two feet tall – as I pull out my Physics stuff. I'm sitting in front of the sofa, so I'm facing the TV, while Tom is sitting opposite me, facing the window.

We start working, me explaining the exercises and Tom trying to solve them.

"What's the formula for the work?" I interrogate.

"Uh… the force times the movement?" Tom says.

"Yes. What if I ask you to find the force?"

"Um… work divided by the movement, right?" he says.

"Right! And, what about the movement?"

"Work divided by the force," Tom says, this time with confidence.

"See? It's not that hard." I say. "Okay, now try to do this exercise here." I point.

But Tom doesn't move. He's staring behind me in wonder, so I look back. Nothing unusual, just a lot of rain falling to the floor. I turn back to look at Tom. "What are you looking at?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away. After a few seconds, he says. "Come with me."

"Where?" I ask, surprised.

"Just come."

I stand up and follow him through the hallway again and behind a corner. Suddenly, he grabs my hand and opens a door. Dragging me behind, he runs outside under the rain.

"Tom!" I yell. "What the hell!" I let go of his hand and wipe my face.

Tom laughs, although I can barely hear him over the heavy rain. I'm already dripping wet, but I don't go back inside. Something about feeling the rain drop on my head calms me down. Of course, you'll be all wet after, but for the moment everything is peaceful. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling.

Tom takes hold of my hands again, and I open my eyes. He's standing in front of me, looking down. His black hair is dripping wet and sticking to his forehead, but I think it gives him a really attractive look.

"Emma… I have to tell you something," he says, and my heart starts beating faster. "I… I like you. A lot actually." he smiles, as my heart explodes in joy. "I want to be closer to you. I want to be more than your friend. Or a student." he jokes. "I want to be with you."

At that moment I realized something. Something that almost brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't be with him. I know I said I should try to be in a relationship, but not like this. Knowing him, I have this feeling that this won't go well.

"Tommy…" I say. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a good idea. I like you too, but we're different. Too different. I know that in a couple of weeks, maybe even a month, you'll dump me and go after another new girl."

"That's not true," Tom says. "I want you."

"No, you don't!" I exclaim, tears falling from my eyes. Or maybe it's the rain. "I'm different!" I say desperately. Without even realizing it, I confess everything. "I've never been a normal girl. I have always been the weirdo. I've never been to a party and I don't have a lot of friends. I like reading, writing, and I prefer to stay at home with a good book and a cup of tea rather than going out with my friends. I like video games, and comic books, and superheroes, and I obsessed over characters in books.

I've never had a boyfriend, I still haven't had my first kiss and I haven't lost my virginity. These are things that normal sixteen-year-old girls usually have done, but my parents raised me to be responsible, and to me, having sex at seventeen is really early.

I've never had a boyfriend, but I really want to be with someone. To kiss, to hug, to love someone that's special to me. To be able to cry on someone's shoulder knowing that they won't judge me. To be comforted by my other half.

I've never been in love but based on the movies and books that I watch and read, I know that love is hard, complicated and you have to be brave to deal with it. But at the same time, it's incredible. I've never been able to experience that feeling, and I honestly can't wait.

I want to be with someone, but I don't know what I'm doing wrong. When I hang out with a bunch of guys, I don't flirt. If I do, I don't even realize it. I just talk and try to be funny.

Honestly, there have been a few interests, but I always shut them off. And I think its because I've made up this picture in my head of my perfect guy, and I keep waiting for him. I'm still waiting for the One. But, by doing that, I've been alone my whole life." I pause. "I don't want you to regret being with me. What I told you right now – this is me. I'm not going to change. I'm not going to become a slut. I'm not going to become the girl who sleeps with the playboy. I just want you to think about it." I finish.

Tom doesn't react to my speech. He just stares at me, either in wonder or in shock, I can't tell.

Then, in one swift movement, Tom surges towards me and slams his lips against mine, holding the sides of my face. After dealing with the initial shock, I kiss him back. It quickly becomes a passionate kiss. Our tongues battle for control, but in the meantime, we're exploring each other's mouths. He moves his hands on my waist as I place my arms around his neck. One of my hands is pulling his face towards me, deepening the kiss.

We brake apart, but only to breathe. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. She smashes me against the wall of the house, but it doesn't hurt. I'm too taken by our connection.

We keep kissing until he pulls away and looks at me. His eyes are filled with lust, and I'm sure mine look the same.

"Come upstairs," he says.

"Where?"

"My bedroom."