Thea’s parents were gone again. Off on some business trip or whatever it is rich people do when they don’t feel like being parents. She had gotten used to it and never complained about it. If anything, it gave her freedom to do whatever she wanted, and that meant inviting you over to keep her company.

You’ve been passing a bottle of whiskey between you, stolen from her dad’s cabinet. Thea mumbled something about how dumb the plot of the movie was, and eventually passed out on the couch. She looked peaceful, like she didn’t have a care in the world, while you sat there, wide awake, feeling every stupid thing you’d been avoiding for weeks. Sitting on the floor, staring at the bottle, where Thea’s lips had been moments ago.

The whiskey didn’t help. It only made everything blurrier—the lines between right and wrong, between what you two were and what you wanted. You stared at her. You knew you shouldn’t, but you did. Her chest rose and fell, her lips slightly parted, and you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was everything you’d been feeling.

You leaned in.

It was barely a kiss. Just a light brush of your lips against hers, soft and hesitant. For a second, it felt like the world froze. You could feel the warmth of her skin, the faint taste of whiskey still on her lips.

For one brief second, you naively thought that maybe she wouldn’t wake up. Maybe you could pretend it never happened. But then her eyes flicked open, and the look on her face shattered any hope you had. Thea jerked back like you’d burned her. Her face twisted in confusion, and then…disgust. Pure, raw disgust. Like you were something dirty. Something broken.

Thea was breathing hard, fists clenched as if holding herself back from pushing you away. She didn’t say anything at first, just kept staring at you like you’d turned into a stranger. Like you weren’t the {{user}} she knew. “What the fuck was that?”