Here it is: part two. I think it makes decent sense even if you didn't read the first one...I can't figure out how to add a link to the first one, though. Oh well. Enjoy!

Previously: That is what I remember about my first kiss: the nearly scalding temperature of his face, the sticky candy on our lips, and the wind that warned me not to tear my world apart.

When I got home from the outing in the woods, I danced, then burst into explosive song, then broke down sobbing in my room. My only goal in life was to save my first kiss for my wedding day, and I messed it up. Nice going, smart one. You had to go lock lips with your best friend. The initial thrill of my first kiss was fleeting, and in my opinion, couldn’t be worth the consequences. Then again, I had no idea what the consequences were. Maybe that’s why I was so frightened as I sat alone in my room, curled in a ball in the middle of the floor.

After a while, the tears made way for exhaustion as I reasoned with myself. I didn’t really kiss him. He kissed me, and I didn’t initiate, so it’s not that bad. I didn’t sell my affection to him, or anything. With that thought, I was able to relax enough to go to sleep.

September 8, the day after the Twizzler incident: I accidentally fell asleep on the floor in the fetal position, and consequently woke up sore. As I tried to stretch out the stiff muscles, the phone rang upstairs. I let it ring, hoping someone was home. Unfortunately, no one was.

I grumbled to myself as it rang again, forcing me to get off my butt and limp around the house trying to find the darn phone.

“Hello?” I said when I found it.

“Emma? You know you sound like tour guide Barbie.”

“Why thank you. Now, who is this?”

“It’s Megan, darling.”

“Hey,” I said. She started to giggle. So did I. We were dorky like that.

“So…” she continued. “I think you should don your Star Wars pajammies and come over tonight. I’m organizing a Star Wars marathon, to begin at 7 o’clock pm.”

“Great! I’ll bring the pizza.”

“Sweet! Oh, and guess what?”

“Que?” I said, using my best Spanglish.

“Pues…” Megan said, following suit, “Mi familia acaba de comprar un televisión nueva.”

“Dude! No way no way!”

“Indeed.”

“That’s so cool!”

“I know. You still sound like tour guide Barbie.”

“Lay off!”

“Later!”

Then she hung up on me. I love that girl.

I worked on homework all day, finding pleasure in that I had things planned all day to distract me from Luke. After all, approaching him that day was inconceivable for someone of my awkwardness level. At half till seven, I called the pizza place and headed over to Megan’s in my sports utility vehicle to help her set up.

Her new t.v. basically rocked. 72 inches of gray screen welcomed us as we cantered to the basement to set up bean bags.

“We don’t have a couch yet,” she said apologetically. “And I don’t think we have enough bean bags, either.”

I stared at the massive collaboration of Styrofoam-stuffed pleather already set out. “Well, how many people did you invite?”

“Just the usual gang,” she said, scanning the basement for other forms of seating. “Jennie, Becca, Kevin, Derron, Spencer, Kate, Amy, Travis, Max, Ben, Luke…all of our nerdy friends.”

As one can imagine, my spine went cold as the name of the last individual rolled off her tongue. I hadn’t told her anything about the previous day’s events.

“Oh,” was all I managed to say. “I should probably order more pizza.”

After I ordered the extra pizza, the first pizza arrived, and we started getting calls explaining the no-shows excuses. Becca had a date with Derron (who forgot and showed up on Megan’s doorstep, where we proceeded to yell at him until he remembered where he was supposed to be), Max and Spencer had a baseball game, Kate was grounded, Travis was sick, and Jennie didn’t show up. As it were, we had a couple extra pizzas. And Luke still came.

The movie repertoire for the night consisted of Star Wars, the Original Trilogy. “A New Hope” went without any incident. Luke was on one side of the room, and I was safe, hiding in the kitchen. Halfway through “The Empire Strikes Back,” Jennie showed up, and there was much rejoicing, followed by further consumption of pizza. Luke came over to talk to me, and I was relieved; we were still cool.

We sat next to each other while we watched “Return of the Jedi,” but there was an unnerving static in the air that made me feel uncomfortable. Curious to see how he reacted, I snuggled closer to Luke. He casually put his arm around me as we watched Leia kill Jabba the Hut while wearing a bikini. We sat like that until the big battle scene between the Ewoks and the clones, and it was strangely comfortable. I hate battle scenes, and adverted my eyes a couple times; the next thing I knew, my head was on in his shoulder as a cute Ewok was killed by a battle droid. I despise that scene, and always clung to him when we watched the movie together. But things were not the same anymore.

I lifted my head after the scene was over, realizing how awkward it was, and found myself inches away from Luke’s face. In Twizzler terms, we were only three inches apart. Crap! Emma, don’t turn to the dark side! It was, again, too late.

Luke’s lips were on mine, and this time, it was a bit more than a friendly peck. I could try to come up with excuses to why he stayed on my face so long, saying that it was the darkness or the movie…but the answer is simple: there was no Twizzler in the way. It was longer, sweeter, and I nearly melted. It felt good. I felt terrible.

After it was over, I looked at all of our friends. They were too engrossed in the movie to notice what we had just done. Luke was staring at me, half of his face it up by the t.v. screen, the other half lost in darkness.

“Are you o.k.?” he asked, and I knew the light side, the friend side was speaking.

“Yea…We’re not together, are we Luke?” I asked, and I waited to see which side would answer. After a while, I started stuttering, “Because I’m really confused, and if we’re together, I need to think it through, and you’re my best friend, but- the, well- and the – friends, and – is it awkward for you?”

“No,” he answered. “You’re a great friend, Emma. I love how you’re always there for me, and I – I like how well we get along, and when you smile, you make my day. If you don’t want to…”

“No, it’s fine,” I whispered. “I like it.”

“We’re not together though.”

“I guess not.”

“Okay.”

On screen, Hans Solo and Princess Leia were making out. Luke held me for the rest of the movie, and I didn’t really mind, as long as no one saw us and made a big deal of it. When the credits rolled, it was well past two in the morning. Everybody stood up, hyped up on Mountain Dew, Doritos, and pizza, but ready to kill the next person to say “may the force be with you.” Don’t get me wrong, Star Wars is great, but after six hours it gets a bit monotonous.

The groggy teens filed out of Megan’s basement while I stayed behind to clean up.

“So…what’s happenin’ between you and Luke?” she asked, once we were alone.

“Nothing, nothing at all!” I bit my lip, knowing I had lied too quickly for it to be believable.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, “And of course swapping spit during the movie is nothing because…”

“It wasn’t like that,” I stuttered. “It was more – you know – well, less romantic as much as – it was more friendly, anyway…you know, like friends. A friend kiss.”

“I see. Keep telling yourself that, babe.”

“Yea.”

That was when I left. I slammed the door of my SUV, letting the impact shake the car. Then, I let my forehead hit the top of the steering wheel, and my tears rolled down the leather and into my lap.

I had messed up again.