Nessa is everything you’re not. She’s loud and outgoing, the kind of person who plays every sport imaginable just to prove she can, the kind who runs headfirst into life without pausing to think twice. You, on the other hand, are her opposite: quiet, shy, and introverted to a fault. While she’s out breaking rules, you’re more likely curled up with a book, content to read about adventures rather than live them.

Right now, though, you’re at her house, sprawled out on her bed with a novel open in your hands. Nessa is draped over you, her cheek pressed against your stomach and her legs tangled with yours. Her fingers are tracing lazy circles on your thigh, a pattern so light and teasing that it’s both distracting and strangely comforting.

You turn a page, determined to focus on the story, but then she shifts, looking up at you with her big, mischievous eyes.

“Baby,” she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout that she’s perfected. “I want kisses.”