‘I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t going to…’ she whispered, her eyes begging me to believe her. I shook my head, and hugged her close again, letting my eyes and body tell her that she didn’t need to worry, that I believed her and, above all, that she was safe. Almost without thinking I bent my head and pressed a kiss to the side of her face, letting my lips linger softly on her cheek, closing my eyes and relaxing with a renewed sense of rightness. It felt good to hold her in my arms, it felt like she belonged there, and I didn’t ever want to let her go. I felt her muscles tighten before she leaned away once more. Her sad eyes caressed my face and I saw them soften a few degrees before she leaned back in and pressed her trembling lips against mine. I held my breath and kept absolutely still, instinct telling me that that moment of fragile trust and careful closeness had to be on her terms. Her kiss was soft and then a bit harder just for a short while before she leaned away and looked at me. ‘I mean flushed, like the temperature is too high in here.’ ‘Oh.’ Now I really started blushing. ‘I see what you mean.’ She laughed. ‘I am just teasing. You really do look hot—as in, hot-and-sexy.’ I giggled. ‘Well… thank you very much… Tease.’ ‘Actually, not far off. Teresa.’ ‘Ah. I am Anya. Nice to meet you, Teresa.’ We chatted away for a little while—giggling at the boys and their flat footed approach to chatting up girls, the terrible state of popular music, this and that. Then, apropos of nothing, Teresa said, ‘I want you.’ ‘Pardon?’ ‘You heard. I didn’t mumble.’ She hadn’t mumbled, and I had heard. My heart was in my throat, and she had me in her gaze. Then, as if it was Anya saying it, and not me (I know that sounds weird), I replied, ‘Then I am yours.’ She smiled at this—a smile of supreme confidence—but somehow, not arrogance, just self-assurance. ‘Then follow me.’ I followed her out of the party and along the quiet street. Between every few houses were alleyways leading.
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