Idea

This just hit me when I was getting ready for work, so I’m going to try to get it down real quick:

Kyle slid my glasses up my nose and over my forehead, letting them rest amongst my unmanageable frizz like a headband.  He tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear, letting his fingers caress down my jaw and over my chin.

My breath caught.  Oh shit, this was really going to happen.

Kyle licked his lips slowly, tilted his head to the side, and began his decent.

I couldn’t help but think of my mother at that moment.  Of how she would rather walk in on me blowing the entire football team than kissing a stoner like Kyle.  Somehow that made the idea of making out with Kyle even more appealing.

He paused with his mouth just out of my reach as though he were waiting for permission or something, which was just bizarre; Kyle never waited for permission from anyone.  As his short breaths fanned over my face, I was hit with an image that was so clear it was practically a memory.  A girl standing just as I was, her back against a wall, and a guy with his hair greased back standing in front of her, leaning in to kiss her.  Right before his lips touched hers, she whispered his name.

The name was right on the tip of my tongue.  If Kyle hadn’t closed the gap right then, I probably would have ruined everything by repeating the name.

Tommy.