When I come home that evening, coat still in hand, both my parents are awake and chatting happily. My mother must have broken out a new bottle of wine for the night because she seems to be in a fairly good mood now that my father has come home from work.

"Hey, how was your, uh, thing?" my dad asks.

I'm too much in shock still to really make sense of his question. After a slight pause where I attempt to recollect myself, I answer.

"It was good...I think."

"You okay?" my mom asks.

"Fine. Just tired. Long week. I'm off to bed," I say, listening to my parents picking up on their chatter below. Both my siblings are already asleep, probably sent to bed by my parents early so they could enjoy their evening together. I shut the door to my room and collapse on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

My fingers trace against my lips. The same lips that were kissing Aurora less than an hour ago.  My first kiss. 

"Oh my God," I murmur at last. The entire car ride home, I was silent, trying to will my heart to stop beating so fast and for my fingers to stop trembling. I didn't even bother to put the coat in another seat. I just let it sit on my lap as I drove. Even now as I set the coat to the side, it still smells faintly like Aurora's perfume.

As the initial shock begins to wear off, I quickly turn over and shove my face into my pillow before kicking my legs excitedly against my bed. Oh my God. I kissed Aurora! No. Rather. She kissed me. Was that why she had been acting distracted at dinner? Was that why she had dressed up? Was that why she had even invited me to go out on Valentine's Day?

The flush is rising in my cheeks again as I stare up from my pillow. I think excitedly about what this means in the future. We both like each other. At least, that's what I assume if Aurora was the one to properly kiss me. I glance at my phone, hoping she's texted or called, but she hasn't. The phone screen remains blank. I almost want to text her myself. 

I wonder how she is reacting back home, if she's lying in bed squealing to herself like I am, or if...maybe she regrets it. I try not to think of that possibility. I can only hope she's as lovestruck as I am right now. I have no idea how we'll act on Monday. I angrily wonder why she had to kiss me on a Friday of all days, when a weekend will separate us from seeing each other. 

That night, I sleep wonderfully. My dreams are just of Aurora. I keep grinning like an idiot throughout the night when I think of the kiss. This trend seems to continue throughout the entire weekend.

My parents try to get me to go out and run errands, to which I deny, and even when my friends want to go out and see a movie, but I also decline. I barely see anyone over the weekend, even my own family. All I do is sit in my room and try to get through homework as I continually think of the feeling of Aurora's lips on mine.

"What is wrong with you?" Olivia finally asks Sunday night. "You've barely left your room all weekend, and that's strange even for you."

"Homework," I lie.

"Give her a break," Oliver murmurs.

My mother, though suspicious of my attitude, doesn't seem to care when Monday rolls around. On Monday morning, I nervously put on my uniform and pray that my hair looks semi-decent. Because today, I'll be seeing Aurora again after what feels like a million years. I did not hear from her all weekend, but I also didn't bother to text her. We both probably had homework keeping us busy anyway. I can only hope she'll be as ecstatic to see me as I am to see her today.

But instead, I end up feeling more awkward than normal. In the minutes before classes, I talk to Abigail while waiting for the classroom to open, being sure to avoid any conversation about the past Friday. Then Aurora walks by.

"Aurora!" I call.

She pauses in her steps and turns around. "H-Hi," she says meekly.

"Um, how was your weekend?" I ask.

"G-Good. Um, I've got to get to class."

"Oh, right. Okay, see you," I say, watching her nearly walk into a locker as she heads off. I silently curse to myself. We barely managed to keep eye contact with each other.

"What the hell was all that?" Abigail asks.

"I don't know. She's acting weird," is all I say in response, though I'm sure Abigail can see my red cheeks. Oh well. If she asks about it later, I'll just attribute it to the cold, as well as my tongue-tied nature.

I go through my classes, wondering when I will inevitably meet with Aurora. At lunch, she doesn't sit with me, not that I expected her to, but I keep sneaking glances every now and then, wanting to just smile at her. At some point, near the end of lunch, she finally looks up. I give her my widest grin, but she only looks inquisitively at me in response, as if she's confused as to what I'm so happy about.

Oh no. What if she does regret it?

Nevertheless, Aurora is still at my locker at the end of the day, though she's balancing on her heels awkwardly, acting more stressed than normal.

"Ready to go?" I ask. I had imagined her to be much more charismatic. I had imagined us holding hands as we walked home from school today, but something tells me that this won't be the case.

"Okay," she says.

I don't expect her to bring up the kiss at school, but I reasonably expect her to bring it up when we're farther away from campus. But instead, she's just silent, until she finally opens her mouth to ask about a Calculus problem she was having trouble with. I find myself slightly irked by the comment. That's all? That's all she wanted to talk about?! If anyone has asked Calculus questions in this relationship, it's been me.

Soon enough, we're at the corner where we split, and not once has the kiss surfaced in conversation.

"See you, then," Aurora says.

"Is there anything else you want to say?" I ask quietly.

"I have a lot of homework, sorry. I'll see you," she says again. I stand still on the sidewalk for a few minutes. That was not the Aurora I have grown to know. She is usually bold and confident, but today, her awkwardness outcompeted mine. And even worse, she seemed to be disappointed walking home with me. 

The fact that she has avoided speaking about Friday altogether worries me. I suppose I could have brought it up in conversation, but she seemed so stressed that it felt wrong to lay that conversation on her. Perhaps she truly is just stressed about school. Either way, as I stand and watch her walk away, I feel my heart sink. Just for once, I thought I had a chance at some real happiness.