"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you."—Coldplay.

It feels as though my lips have press up against a ball of sugary marshmallow, the minty type, that's also a little moist and buttery. With also a faint touch of citrus and a dash of cinnamon.

Soft, silky bristles brush against the curve of my upper lip, tickling my skin and tingling my stomach with butterflies and every possible living creature with a pair of fluttering wings.

I think I got lost in a wonderland, where everything is made out of sweets and chocolates and... a pair of honey-dripping eyes.

I blink rapidly as my teacher stares up into my flabbergasted spirals, our lips still formed in an alliance as if they have somehow mutated together.

The castle of candies begins to deteriorate, and rainbows become black and grey when I come to terms with what on earth just happened or still happening.

I am kissing him! I am kissing Mr. Todd!

Oh, God. My first kiss...

I quickly break our mouths apart and tear my eyes open while he lies against the couch, looking like a poor innocent man who had just been assaulted.

He blinks a few times, and the little lighting in the storage doesn't do a great job at camouflaging the strawberry tints in his cheeks.

Then there is a thick silence. With me staring at him in shock and him looking up at me wordlessly.

Finally, my hand flies up to cover my mouth but stops midway as I sputter an apology.

"Oh, my God...I am so sorry!"

He swallows thickly, looking nothing short of awkward. Hell, he's probably traumatized.

"I didn't mean for that to happen. Oh, God..." I flame a bright red, and then something catches my eyes at the corner of his lips.

Blood! He's bleeding!

"Mr. Todd!" I gasp.

That red substance always sets me in a mode of panic. It all started when I was younger, maybe about nine, and Kevin was annoying the living hell out of me for the entire day. Long story, short I shoved him headway down the stairs, and he ended up cracking his forehead. I cried a river thinking I had killed him, and ever since then, I've feared seeing blood.

Yeah, I know...not a heart-touching story there...

"Sir!" I fidget on top of him, my thighs moving up and down against his groin, causing him to grimace at the further pain I am inflicting. "Blood! There's blood."

He doesn't pick up, scrunching his brows. "What?"

"You're bleeding, oh my gosh." I reach a hand out to touch his lips, and he nudges it away.

"What blood are you talking about?"

"I think—I think I burst your lip."

"Stop panicking; what's wrong with you?" He tries to sit up, and I climb off him, jerking my legs.

He gets up and begins to walk to a small door at the corner of the room, and I follow him promptly while blabbering anxiously. "This is my fault. There is blood on your lip, right at the corner. It's red. I think it's the force I came down with. Maybe it was my teeth, or my head, or somewhere, but either way, you're bleeding, oh my God."

"Kelly." He swings to me suddenly, and I stop in my tracks, looking up at him.

"Stop. Panicking."

I gulp. "But you're—"

He pivots and thrusts the timber door open, displaying a compact adjoined bathroom. He switches the lights on, and I stay close to him as he titles his head to inspect his lips in the mirror. I tip on my toes, my hands subconsciously gripping his waists to keep my balance, as I peer over his shoulders at the chip on his mouth.

His eyes glide to me in a reptilic motion, and I look at him through the mirror. He drops his gaze to my hands, and I pull them back quickly, clearing my throat.

"Sir—"

He flips the tap, and water spumes out as he rolls up his sleeves to his elbows. "It's just a small cut."

I fiddle with my fingers while my face falls in sympathy. "I am sorry."

He doesn't say anything as he bends his head over the pipe and begins to tap the bruise with running water.

"Does it hurt?" I scoot closer to him and hang my head over the sink as well.

His tie flips over into the pedestal sink, getting wet under the loud spurs, and upon common courtesy, I grab it and toss it over his shoulder, wanting to be as helpful as I can. The thoughtful action causes him to still for a second, and he turns his face to me, his lips appearing even redder as they drip wet.

I didn't realize that our faces were this close together until now, but he makes no effort to move back as he stares at me for longer than a second. My face threatens to get red, but luckily, he turns his head to the faucet and continues to dab the blotch.

He switches the pipe off, and his black kerchief is poking out from the top pocket of his dress shirt. I carefully pull it out. As soon as he straightens up again, I tip on my toes and begin to dry his lips in apology.

"I am sorry," I say. He looks at me again, a weird look passing over his face. "Does it hurt?"

He swallows hard and tries to dodge my hand, but I frown and move closer to him. "Wait, it's not dry yet."

"Kelly."

"I know what will make it better. My mom bought this strawberry-scented ointment for my knees. I have it in my bag, wait here." I hand him his kerchief and quickly hurry out of the room.

I squat on the stage floor and hastily grab the medicated lotion from the small compartment of my rucksack.

When I return to the washroom, Mr. Todd is using his handkerchief to wipe his face. I move closer to him, noticing how he takes a subtle step back as if to create some distance. Subconsciously, I inch nearer while dabbing the pink tube of cream on the pad of my forefinger.

"Let me see your lips," I say, and his earlier strange expression returns.

"It's alright."

"It's not." I frown.

I angle my head to examine the cut, bringing myself closer to his face, that we are both now breathing the same air. I gently pat my finger against his mouth, and he flinches a little.

"Sorry..." I mutter, rubbing the ointment in. When it is properly applied, I bring my mouth closer and begin to blow air on it. It's what my mom would usually do, so it's a natural custom for me.

But Mr. Todd doesn't like it. He quickly grips my arm and pulls me back, causing my forehead to crease in wonderment.

"Sir?"

"Stop. Go to class; do you have a class right now?"

I shake my head. "It's a club period."

"Then go to your club." He gestures to turn away when I grip his shoulder, reaching my hand toward his mouth. Stubbornly.

He clutches onto my wrist, and I shrink at the sudden action, swallowing as he stares down at me.

"Why are you being so disobedient?" His brows furrow, but he hasn't let my wrist go.

"I...I am just feeling sorry. It was my fault."

"And I told you that it was okay, didn't I?"

I nod my head.

"Words."

"Yes, sir."

"Exactly. And what else did I just say?" He questions.

My eyes travel from his hand that is secured around my wrist and to his face. He looks a bit angry, but I have seen him angrier on several other occasions.

"What else did I just say?"

"That I should...go to my club meet."

"Correct. Now go, or I'll punish you further for not listening to your teacher."

I purse my lips as he finally releases me. Without meeting his cold eyes again, I whirl around and sprint out of the bathroom. But then I quickly make a U-turn and run back in. I grab his hand, and his brows tug as I put the ointment in his palm. Blushing in timidity.

"You can have it." Before he can rebuke me again, I speedily chase out of the storage room, grabbing my bag from the stage and scurrying out of the theatre. As soon as I enter the hallway, I bump into someone.

"Oh! Sorry." I crouch down to pick up the purple pouch that fell on the ground, looking up to see Ms. Smith.

She smiles as she accepts it from my hand but tilts her head wonderingly. "Isn't it club meet right now?"

"Yes." I grip the straps of my bag impatiently, and when her answer lingers, I quickly hurry past her and pelt down the corridor.

••

"Mr. Todd? Are you in here?" Ms. Smith glances around the semi-lit storage room, just before Nikolai steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"Ms. Smith."

She smiles brightly, her pearl earrings shining in the gloom as she advances toward him. "I was wondering why you weren't at the stage."

"Oh." He folds his handkerchief and neatly tucks it into the top pocket of his shirt. "I was using the restroom."

"What happened to your lips?" Her thin eyebrows come together in worry at the pink bruise on the corner of his mouth. "It's red and looks scarred." She grips his shoulders to have a close look at the spot.

"Just had a small accident." He tells her, pushing his hands into his pockets, and the movements cause her hands to fall off him. "Is something wrong? Why are you here?"

The woman frowns playfully, scrunching her small nose at his question. "You told me you were going to decorate the auditorium today, so I just thought I would drop by to say hello."

Nikolai smiles toothily, his teeth appearing even whiter due to the lighting. "Okay. Though we saw each other in the office this morning, whilst we were both checking in."

She laughs. "Mm. You're right. But this setting..." She looks around, crossing her arms against her bust. "Is a little more private." She stares at him suggestively.

Mr. Todd slowly bobs his head, lifting his chin.

Her cheeks bloom as she flashes her long hair from her eyes, pursing her lips. "Anyway. I saw a student chasing out of here. Have you any idea where she may have been coming from? It's club meet now."

Nikolai begins to move toward the door, and she follows him while he answers her inquiry in the process. "She was with me."

"She was?" Ms. Smith tilts her head, closing the door after them.

"Yeah." He begins to throw some decorations lying on the stage floor into the open carton. "She was on punishment."

"Oh." She taps her short, manicured nails against the glittery pouch she's holding, curious. "Why?"

"She spoke rudely to me." He brushes his hands together before folding them across his torso as he looks at the wall that is now artistically decorated. "So I had her assist me with this."

"Oh..." Ms. Smith comes to stand next to him, her healthy hair moving along her shoulders in silky waves. "She has some skills."

His mouth twitches a little. "Yeah...she does."

"Wasn't she the girl who scraped her knees in your office the other day?" She inclines her head.

"Yeah." Nikolai adjusts his stance at the question. "I teach her history."

"Oh, speaking of history, Mr. Carl wanted to speak with you. Something about you enlightening his students on the evolution of sports."

Mr. Todd turns to her. "Oh, he had asked me to assist him with this week's P.E class. I should go talk with him."

"Now?" The P.D educator cannot contain her disappointment. Secretly, she wanted to spend some more time in Mr. Todd's presence. Alone.

"Yeah, now." He turns away and begins to leave the auditorium. "Are you coming?"

She sighs but forces a smile. "Wait up."

••

"Are you alright?" Derrick narrows his eyes at his best friend as she jiggles her feet unsettlingly, her complexion resembling the reddest of fruits.

They are now getting ready for their Physical Education class, sitting on the bleachers while waiting for their grade coach to show up. Mr. Carl has always been a tardy, materialistic man who is rumored to spend most of his time in his office cleaning the school's sports trophies. Kelly and Derrick don't mind this, as it gives them more time to converse.

"Yeah, I'm alright..." Kelly lies, but then she cannot withhold it anymore and swings to him, bringing her thigh over the other end of the seat so that she's straddling the long silver bench.

Derrick turns his torso in preparation to receive the news as she scoots a little closer to him.

"Um, I-I think I just had my very first kiss." She tells him, and he narrows his eyes in befuddlement.

"What?"

"Okay...I kissed..." She leans into him, and he willingly brings his ear forward to hear her whisper, "I kissed...Mr. Todd."

"WHAT?!"

Several heads snap up to them from the field, and Kelly slaps his arm, pinching it right after. "Be quiet."

He chuckles and swats her hand away. "Ow, I am sorry, but what did you just say?"

"I kissed our history teacher."

He blinks his eyes, clearly confused. "What-how did that even happen?"

"Okay. I was on punishment. To decorate the school's auditorium. I climbed up on a chair—no stool; it was a stool, a really old one. So, I climbed up to get some ornaments, and then I slipped, and he was right in front my me, so I fell like this..." Kelly grips Derrick's shoulders to visualize, slowly motioning herself forward as a way to depict what happened. "Then our mouths smacked together like this." She claps her hand together, and Derrick jerks. "That's what happened..."

Derrick stares at her for a little while, crickets and birds in the background, and then he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as he gropes his stomach. Curling up on the grey bench.

Kelly frowns, offended. "What?"

"Kelly." He sits up straight again; his eyes are watery from his guffaws. He lifts his hand and strokes her forehead, then flicks his finger against it, causing her to yelp in pain.

"What the hell?!" Her hand flies up to rub the spot now throbbing from his assault. "What did you that for?"

"That was not a kiss, you cute little rabbit." He strokes her jaw. "That was an accident, not a kiss."

"Our lips touched, so it's a kiss."

"Do you know what's a kiss?" He leans into her, smirking at her naivety. "A kiss is tongue and all that stuff. You guys just bumped together. You see that wall over there?" He points to the white wall that now looks close to brown due to the school's lack of renovation. Kelly follows his gaze and squints her eyes from the glare of the sun. "It would be like you kissing that wall. There's nothing there. Nothing."

That hurts her feelings for some reason. Of course, the collision of their lips was an accident, but deep down inside, it meant something to her. She can't say the same for Mr. Todd.

"Don't say that to anyone," Derrick tells her. "It could ruin his career, whether it was an accident or not." He shrugs.

Kelly drops her gaze to her sports skirt. He's right about that. She wouldn't want to be the one to dent Mr. Todd's reputation and put an end to everything he has worked hard for. She needs to control her emotions, or they could just be the death of someone's profession. She would not be able to live with such guilt.

"This evening they are having a concert in the theatre. The music club is putting it on. Staying back?" Derrick asks her.

"I have my tutoring today." She shrugs and grabs her blue water bottle from the ground, popping it open and putting the sprout in her mouth.

Instantly, she sees Mr. Carlton coming onto the fields with a net of balls in his hand, but he isn't alone. Mr. Todd is right next to him. She chokes out water, spikes of it splashing onto Derrick's face. He shuts his eyes.

"Okay...it's alright. I needed that. I needed a shower; the weather is hot."

Kelly purses her lips to hold the laughter in, and when it begins to burst her tummy, she cracks up. "I am sorry." She puts her bottle down and starts to help him wipe the liquid off his face.

Mr. Todd's eyes find her at once, witnessing as she chuckles while cleaning up a smiling Derrick's face. He stares at her before Mr. Carlton begins to speak to him.

"We can start with the origin of sports and so on."

He tears his eyes away and nods at the man. But not long after, his eyes move up to the bench again, but her position has now shifted. He trails his gaze to see her and Derrick coming down to the playfield. She looks at him, and he quickly looks away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Everyone line up here!" Mr. Carlton blows his whistle, and the group hurries over to where he is standing.

Kelly stands at the left end of the horizontal line so that she won't be in Mr. Todd's eyesight. He would have to twist his neck at an uncomfortable angle to see her. She doesn't believe she's the most attractive person in the school's sports uniform, but that isn't the only reason she chose to stay at an arm's length. Derrick had been right. She cannot let her petty, girlish feelings ruin a man's life, hence it is best she stays far away from him.

Which is impossible, being that the man is her teacher and also her personal tutor.

"Mr. Todd teaches Advanced History, as some of you guys may know. He's very knowledgeable when it comes to teaching history as a whole. Anything related to it. So, since the end of semester exams are coming up and we'll be revising, I called him here today to talk to you guys about the history of Sports, just some insights that I may have missed." Mr. Carlton tells the class, and the girls blush as they feast their eyes on the young instructor.

Kelly stares at her shoes, and Derrick bounces her shoulder playfully, jutting his chin in Mr. Todd's direction. "Your first-kiss."

She reddens. "Shut up."

"Oh, look who decided to show up." Mr. Carlton shakes his head as Peter Carson walks on the field with his friend, his jersey on backward and his shorts crushed as if it had been at the bottom of his locker for decades.

Kelly rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. Peter is a part of her Physical Education class, but he skips classes so often that the teachers forget that he exists. His internal truancy contributes to his low GPA and bad record at Camber High. A 'bad boy' without brains. And maybe beauty isn't exactly on his side either.

"Are you still a part of this class? Are you even still a part of this planet?" The coach digs, and the class chuckles.

The boy rubs his shaved head. "Yes, sir. I haven't been to school for a while. I was sick."

"Sick from what? Smoking too much weed? I see you at the back of the school smoking every goddamn day."

The batch laughs again, and Kelly can't help the small cackle that leaves her lips. However, it quickly fades when Peter turns his eyes in her direction, easily picking her out from the group of students. He lifts his chin arrogantly and stiffens his back.

"Don't worry, coach, I won't miss this class ever again." He says, boldly staring at her. "I'll be here every session." He bites his bottom lip.