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"C'mon, Tyson! We don't have all day!" I tap my foot on the tiled flooring of Wayzata High School, leaning my weight against the doorframe of the boys' locker room. My best friend, Tyson Hadley, the blonde captain of the boys' varsity football team, has been in the changing rooms for thirty very long-drawn minutes. He promised to walk me home like he does every day, but today, he has decided to take forever to shower and change.
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My lips part to call to him again when the door flies open, and Tyson's in front of me, dressed in jeans and a crimson t-shirt beneath his Letterman jacket; his blonde hair styled messily, as it always is.
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"Finally! What took so long!" I shoot him a look of disgust, adjusting the position of my black bookbag on my shoulder. "I can tell you I definitely don't take that long to change after soccer practice."
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Tyson feigns a sigh, running a hand through his damp hair and shooting me his signature dazzling grin. "Would you laugh if I told you ninety percent of that time was spent on my hair?"
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I snort a laugh as we start down the practically vacant hallway, heading in the direction of the glass doors that lead outside. "I'll always laugh at your obsession with your hair, blondie."
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He gives a soft laugh, opening the door for me and following when I step outside. A raindrop plonks onto my head, quickly superseded by another, and another, and another, until a steady rainfall pounds against the cracking concrete walkway. I turn to Tyson and fling my hands up as frigid water dribbles down the back of my shirt, sending chills down my spine.
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"Really!? We could have been home by now, but no! You had to take forever, and now we're gonna get soaked!"
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"Relax, Brooke; my mother put an umbrella in my bag this morning," he unzips his backpack, tugging out a folded-up black umbrella. He pulls it open, diverting the raindrops away from him and shielding his 'perfect' hair. "This is one time where we can thank my mother for her over-preparedness."
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"I'm getting soaked." I point out, tone flat as strands of my dark brown hair adhere to the side of my head, soggy with raindrops.
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"Come over here then; there's space for you." Tyson motions to the empty space beside him, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Unless you want to keep sulking over there."
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I show him a scowl, dragging my feet as I come to stand beside him. His broad shoulders take up so much room beneath the rather small umbrella that a good half of my figure is still subjected to the rain.
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"I'm still getting wet..." I jab him in the ribs, adding a whine to my tone simply to aggravate him. "You take up too much space..."
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Tyson drapes an arm over my shoulders, hugging me to his side and effectively keeping me dry.
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"That better, Princess?" He whispers, glancing down at me and my flushed cheeks.
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I nod, glancing away and willing myself to stop blushing. Why am I even blushing? I don't blush...
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We're about halfway through the walk turned awkward when the shivering hits, the moist coldness still clinging to me and chilling me to the bone.
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"You cold?" Tyson stops, watching as I rub my arm in a feeble effort to be rid of the goosebumps.
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"Just a little..."
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"Here..." Tyson lifts his arm from my shoulders, pressing the umbrella into my hand and shrugging off his jacket. He holds it out to me, taking the umbrella back.
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"Thanks, but I don't want you to be cold..."
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"I'm fine," he grins at me. "I'm naturally warm-blooded, remember?"
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I give a small laugh and peek down at my shoes, a sudden shyness eroding my ever-so-perfect confidence. "Thank you."
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"Always." He takes my hand, his cerulean eyes stopping when they meet my green ones. "You know...we should probably wait out the rain."
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"Probably..." I whisper, my gaze still caught in his. "So...what do you wanna do?"
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He says nothing, and before I can even process what he possibly could be doing, he places a hand on my cheek, tilts down, and carefully, almost cautiously, catches my lips in a kiss.
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A startled squeak-like sound exits my throat as I take it all in; Tyson Hadley is kissing me. Our lips fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the kiss gentle and warm, producing a heated fuzzy sensation in my chest. My hand moves to his neck, fingers traveling upward to lace in his hair as I press myself closer because, in all honesty, I'm insanely curious to see where this will lead us.
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The umbrella slips between Tyson's fingers, sinking to the puddled ground, leaving us completely at the mercy of the weather. But we're both too preoccupied, too wrapped up in this kiss to do much of anything.
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When we drag away, his lips spread into a grin, and he leans his forehead against mine, his fingers twisting in my damp hair. I let out a faint laugh, tracing my fingers down his arm to lace with his fingers.
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"I have the biggest damn crush on you, Brooklyn." Tyson whispers, a grin playing on his lips.
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"I have an even bigger damn crush on you, moron."
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