We were behind the school. Kissing.

She pushed me against the brick wall and rested her hands on my hips. I twirled my fingers in her hair. 

"Mia," she whispered against my lips.

"Hm?"

"I want more than stolen kisses," she says.

I open my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," she says, looking into my blue eyes, "I want us to be more than friends."

"More than friends?"

"More than friends."