It was the day before winter break. We stood in the school courtyard, the old, brick building casting long shadows on our faces. Our breath came out in puffs it was so cold out.
You were smoking a cigarette. “That’s a filthy habit,” I told you.
You smirked at me. “Give me something else to do with my mouth then, and I’ll stop.”
I coughed. “Like what?”
Your eyes were blue, and sparkling even though the sun was covered up by clouds. My heart pounded against my chest.
I licked my lips, and stared at yours. “Kiss me,” you said.
Then, I leaned over, and I pulled out a single, Hershey’s kiss from my pocket and I handed it to you. Your bare, freezing cold hands grazing mine as I did.
“Happy Holidays,” I said.
“Happy Holidays,” you said softly back, grinning, “maybe next year, I’ll get a real one from you.”
“Maybe,” I said softly.
Winter Break
