Kylie’s thirteenth birthday rolled around, and for the first time, my parents let her throw a real slumber party. Friends from school flooded the house—three extra boys, six girls, plus Kylie, the twins, and me. Total chaos.
Harley—Luna’s seventeen-year-old cousin—got drafted as the “responsible” adult to keep things from spiraling while Mom and Dad hid in their room with the door firmly shut.
I hate crowds. And I especially hate Kylie’s friends. So I barricaded myself in my room like usual.
Luna showed up not long after, claiming the party was “stupid” and the people were “annoying.” We camped out on my bed with snacks, binge-watching our new favorite supernatural high-school drama.
Every so often, bursts of laughter and music drifted upstairs. Part of me wished I had the guts to join them. Lucian even poked his head in once, inviting us to swim in the lake with everyone. I was tempted—the water sounded perfect—but Luna shot it down instantly. “Pass.” And like always, I just went along.
We got sucked back into the show, forgetting the outside world existed.
During a commercial, nature called. Bad. I bolted for the bathroom.
In the hallway, music and singing leaked from the guest room—Harley’s voice, low and smooth. Weird. I figured she’d be outside supervising the lake crew.
Harley was my first real crush. Capital-C Crush. Seventeen, confident, effortlessly gorgeous. Dark caramel skin, warm chocolate eyes, long straight brown hair usually swept into a ponytail. She lived in tight jeans and band tees that hugged every curve, radiating this “I dare you” energy that made my stomach flip every time she looked at me.
She and Luna knew exactly how I felt and loved tormenting me about it. Harley thought it was “adorable” how I turned into a blushing mess around her.
So when I noticed the guest-room door cracked open, my brain short-circuited.
Stupid teenage logic took over: Maybe she’s changing into her swimsuit. Maybe… bikini.
Heart hammering, I crept closer, glancing toward the stairs every few seconds to make sure no one caught me.
I reached the door. Peeked.
Nothing—just part of the bed, nightstand, half a mirrored dresser.
Hands shaking, I eased the door open another inch.
Harley walked past—topless, wearing only bright yellow bikini bottoms.
My eyes locked on the way the fabric rode up slightly, contrasting against her smooth, tanned skin. Down the curve of her thighs, calves, perfect feet with painted toes.
Then she turned toward the mirror.
And I saw everything.
Breasts. Real ones. On the girl I daydreamed about.
Until that moment, I’d never gotten the hype. I’d accidentally seen Mom’s or Kylie’s before and felt nothing but panic. But Harley’s—flawless, full, moving naturally as she leaned over the drawer—hit me like a lightning bolt.
“Wow,” slipped out before I could stop it.
Our eyes met in the mirror.
“Meleek!”
I bolted.
Slammed the bathroom door, locked it, and braced my back against it like she might kick it down.
Minutes passed. No angry pounding. No yelling.
I pressed my ear to the door—nothing.
Knock knock.
“Oh god, I’m sorry!” I yelped.
“Uh… Meleek? You still in there?” Luna’s voice.
Relief flooded me. “Y-yeah! Almost done!”
“Hurry up, I paused the show.”
“Be right out!”
She headed downstairs for drinks.
I turned to the toilet—and froze.
My body had… reacted. Strongly.
First time ever.
I stared, half horrified, half thrilled. Puberty? For real? I thought being an elf might skip me on this one.
Another knock. “Damn it, are you constipated or something?”
“Coming!”
I gave up on peeing, flushed for show, washed my hands, and rushed back to my room.
Luna was already on the bed, holding out a Coke. “About time.”
“Thanks—” I reached for it.
Her gaze dropped. She barked a laugh.
“Dude. You’ve got a boner.”
I glanced down, then back at her with a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Cool, right? I think puberty finally hit.”
She yanked the drink away and scooted to the far edge. “Ew, gross! Keep that thing away from me.”
“It’s not gross. It’s kinda awesome.” I grabbed myself through my pajama pants, curious.
She pointed accusingly. “Make it go away. I’m not sharing a bed with that.”
“I don’t know how! It’ll probably chill on its own.”
I climbed in anyway.
She eyed me warily, hugging the edge like I was contagious.
Luna shoves a pillow between us like a fortress wall and jabs a finger at my crotch. “That thing stays on your side.”
“Whatever. Unpause the show.”
She hits play, but the vibe is wrecked. Every few minutes her eyes flick over—curious, weirded out, whatever—and it only makes the situation downstairs worse. I yank the blanket over my lap, cheeks burning.
We power through a couple episodes anyway. Eventually, a knock saves us.
“Yeah?” I call, eyes glued to the screen.
Harley slips in, glances at the TV, then at us. Our eyes meet for a split second. Heat floods my face. She’s here to murder me.
She plants herself at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, looming. “Luna, you two need to stop hiding. Come downstairs. They’re starting games.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t like any of those bitches,” Luna says through a mouthful of popcorn.
I snort despite myself.
Harley sighs. “Girl, get your ass up before I drag you down by your hair. You know I will.”
Luna glares, sees Harley’s dead serious, and growls. She flings the popcorn bowl onto the bed—kernels everywhere, mostly on me—and stands. “Fine. I hate you sometimes.”
Then she points at me. “He’s coming too, or I’m not.”
“Hey!”
Harley turns to me, softer. “She’s right. It’s your sister’s birthday.”
“I don’t wanna,” I mumble.
Harley leans in, voice low. “If you don’t, I’ll tell your parents what you pulled earlier.”
My eyes go wide. I leap out of bed. “No—don’t! I’ll go!”
Luna perks up. “What’d he do?”
Harley chuckles, shaking her head. “Nothing.” She slings an arm around my shoulders as we head out. I tense, waiting for payback, but she just guides me gently.
“What if they make fun of me?” I whisper.
“I got you,” she says. “Nobody’s messing with you tonight.”
Luna snickers as we walk. “He had a boner earlier. Gross.”
“Luna!” I hiss.
Harley just laughs it off, sparing me further humiliation.
Downstairs, everyone’s circled up debating board games. Harley announces us like conquering heroes. “Found two more players.”
She positions me in front of her, hands firm on my shoulders. “Quick rule: anybody makes fun of my boyfriend here, I kick your ass.”
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The room goes silent for half a second—then muffled snickers.
One guy on the couch—Abe—lets out a quiet snort.
Harley’s over there in a flash. Smack—open palm across the back of his head.
“Ow!”
“Thought I was joking?”
Everyone cracks up, even me and Luna.
“Abe, trust me—she will,” Lucian adds, grinning.
Abe rubs his head. “Sorry.”
Harley ruffles my hair on her way out. “You’re good, kid.”
We settle in. Teams of three. Naturally, Luna and I pair up. Nobody fights to join us—one girl gets stuck and looks thrilled about it (not).
First game: trivia. My jam. I crush most categories—history, science, random facts. The pop culture, music, and sports stuff? Luna and our reluctant teammate carry those. We win. The girl actually smiles at the end.
Next: Never Have I Ever.
The boxed questions are tame—cheating on tests, stealing candy. Then they start freelancing.
“Never have I ever had a crush on a teacher.”
Fingers drop. Giggles.
“Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room.”
More fingers. A couple girls sneak glances at Lucian. A few guys eye Kylie the way I eye Harley. I keep all ten fingers up.
Then: “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”
Snickers ripple. A couple guys and one girl lower fingers.
Lucian lowers one.
Luna leans in. “Who?”
He smirks. Doesn’t answer.
I think about it… then lower a finger.
Everyone stares.
Abe laughs. “Meleek’s kissed a girl? Who?”
Eyes flick to Luna.
“Hell no,” Luna snaps, hands up. “Never happened.”
“Then who?” Lucian asks.
“My mom. And Kylie,” I say, confused. “What’s the big deal?”
The room explodes in laughter. Kylie goes scarlet.
“Shut up, Meleek!” She bolts out, friends chasing after her, still giggling.
Abe leans forward. “So… you kissed Kylie?”
“Yeah? So?”
“What kind of kiss?”
Luna groans. “Don’t be gross. She’s his sister, idiot.”
“Cheek or lips?” a girl asks, grinning.
“Both? We used to play house.”
More laughter.
“Was there tongue?” someone teases.
My face twists. “Ew, why would there be tongue?”
“That’s a French kiss, dummy,” a guy says. “You never heard of it?”
“No…” I glance at Luna. “Is that what those people were doing on our show?”
She nods, trying not to laugh.
Lucian steps in, firm. “Okay, enough. The question meant romantic kiss—like a girlfriend. Family doesn’t count. It’d be weird if I kissed Luna or Mom.”
Luna grimaces. “This whole conversation is nasty.”
The game moves on, but the mood’s lighter now—even Kylie trickles back in, still pink but laughing.
For the first time all night, I don’t feel like the odd one out.
“Oh,” I say, glancing at Kylie. She’s still flushed and upset, arms crossed tight.
She sighs heavily and stalks off to the kitchen. A trail of friends—and Lucian—follows, murmuring apologies.
Lucian claps his hands. “Okay, new game. What’s next?”
One guy yawns. “It’s almost one, dude. We sure we wanna start something big?”
“Come on, one more,” Abe pleads, looking toward the kitchen. “Kylie, your party—your pick.”
Kylie grabs a soda from the fridge, not turning around. “I don’t care.”
The group migrates to the kitchen, voices dropping as suggestions fly. At first the ideas are tame—charades, cards. Then they get… spicier. Whispers now, like they’re trying to keep Luna and me out of it.
Too late. My ears catch everything.
Spin the Bottle? Vetoed fast—Lucian and Kylie both shoot it down because of us.
Truth or Dare? Same story.
Then someone whispers “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”
Another quick veto.
The others start bargaining: ways to play without “involving the kids.”
I lean toward Luna, who’s scrolling her phone for shows. “Hey. What’s Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
She scowls. “Why?”
“They just picked it.”
“Oh, hell no.” Luna’s voice cuts across the room as the group files back in. “We’re not playing that.”
Everyone freezes. How’d she hear?
One girl—Amy—smirks. “Good, because nobody wants to kiss you anyway.”
Luna’s out of her chair in a flash, shoving Amy back onto the couch. “Say that again.”
Amy’s eyes go wide.
“Luna—stop!” Lucian grabs his sister around the waist and hauls her back.
“Let go!” Luna snarls, shoving him off.
Abe sighs. “Amy, chill. We all know Luna’s not into guys. No girl here’s gonna want to kiss her either.”
Luna’s fists clench. “Who says I’m not into guys? You all just assume.”
“Fine,” Amy snaps. “Prove it. Go in the closet. We’ll send a guy in.”
“Not it,” Abe says immediately. The other boys nod fast.
Luna sneers. “Like I’d want any of you.”
“See?” Amy says. “That’s why everyone thinks—”
Luna lunges again. Lucian catches her mid-air.
“Enough!” he barks at Amy. “She doesn’t have to prove anything.”
Luna yanks free. “I’ll do it. Let go.”
Everyone goes quiet.
“Luna, you don’t—” Lucian starts.
“I said I’ll do it.” She storms to the coat closet, yanks the door open, and glares back. “And if it’s you, Lucian, trying to prank me, I swear…”
She steps in and slams the door.
Silence.
Kylie breaks it. “Okay… who’s going in?”
Whispers erupt. Lucian’s immediately out—obviously. Me? Not even on the radar.
Abe flat-out refuses. “No way. It’d be like kissing a dude.”
Laughter. Jokes. Someone suggests just leaving her in there all night.
It stings. I glance at Lucian—he’s staring at the floor, saying nothing.
I’ve had enough.
I stand. “I’ll go.”
Laughter explodes.
Kylie’s eyes widen. “Meleek, no. That’d be weird. And if Mom and Dad found out—”
“I’m tired of you all picking on her,” I say, fists balled. “If nobody else will, I will.”
Lucian rubs his neck. “I don’t think—”
Abe claps my shoulder, grinning. “Let the little guy go. Might be his only shot at a kiss that isn’t family.”
More laughs.
“Luna is family,” Lucian mutters.
Kylie groans. “Fine. But nobody tells Harley or the parents.” She looks at me. “Go. And don’t breathe a word.”
Ten minutes of stalling later, I’m at the closet door, heart pounding. They’re still snickering behind me.
I open it.
Luna’s on the floor, back against the wall, knees to chest, head down.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says, voice thick. “Just go.”
I step in, pull the door shut. My eyes glow softly—enough to see in the pitch black.
“I wanted to.” I crouch in front of her. “You okay? You sound like you’re crying.”
Her head snaps up. Tear tracks glint on her cheeks. “Meleek?”
“Yeah.” I smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s me.”
She exhales, relieved, and leans back. “Of course they sent you.”
“I can leave if you want,” I tease, reaching for the knob.
“No—wait!” She grabs blindly—my sleeve. “I’m… glad it’s you.”
Then, quieter: “You don’t actually want to kiss me, right?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“Good.” She relaxes. “I really didn’t want to kiss anyone.”
“Then why’d you agree?”
She shrugs, avoiding my eyes.
“Can’t see a thing in here,” she mutters.
I hesitate. Mom and Dad swore me to secrecy about the magic—but Luna’s different. She’s family. My best friend.
“Luna… can you keep a secret?”
“Depends. What?”
I hold out my palm. Eyes brighten. Cool mint scent fills the air.
A soft blue orb ignites above my hand.
Luna gasps, leaning in. “What—how?”
“Magic.” I grin at her wonder. “Real magic. Promise you won’t tell?”
“This is incredible. Why hide it? Your parents said on TV you didn’t have powers.”
“They think if people knew, I’d never have peace. Some might be scared. Think I’m dangerous.”
She sniffs the air. “Is that mint?”
I nod, “Always happens when I use my magic.”
She looks at me curiously, “What else can you do?”
“Watch.” I float the orb toward her. “Touch it.”
She pokes it cautiously.
It bursts—thousands of tiny blue sparks swirling around us like fireflies, like stars.
Luna’s face lights up, eyes wide, mouth open in pure awe. A smile breaks through—real, bright, beautiful.
“This is… amazing,” she whispers. “You’re amazing.”
Warmth floods my chest.
Realizing she never answered my question earlier. “So,” I say softly, “why’d you really play this dumb game?”
She watches the lights dance. “Got tired of the gay jokes. Didn’t want to look weak.”
I chuckle lightly, “Nobody who knows you would call you weak.”
She reaches for a spark—it passes through her fingers. “Do you ever wish you were… different?”
“All the time. Short, nerdy elf kid everyone teases. Sometimes I wish I was just normal. Human.”
“But you can do this.” She gestures at the lights. “You hear everything. See in the dark. It’s awesome.”
“Yeah, but I have to hide it. Can’t go to real school. Can’t make friends without the world watching.” I pause. “Why? You wish you were different?”
She hesitates, then: “Sometimes… I think it’d be easier if I’d been born a boy.”
I nod slowly. “Kinda figured.”
She narrows her eyes.
“I mean—uh—” I rub my neck. “Never mind.”
She chuckles. “It’s okay.”
Quiet settles.
Then: “If I was… you know, gay like they say—would you think of me different? Still be friends?”
I blink. “Are you?”
She opens her mouth—just as a knock rattles the door.
“Time’s up!” Kylie calls.
The door starts opening.
Luna panics—lunges forward, hands on my shoulders, and presses her lips to mine.
Everything stops.
Heart. Breath. Time.
She’s trembling. I’m frozen.
Light spills in. Gasps and “ooohs” from the hallway.
She pulls back slowly.
Our eyes lock. For a second, hers catch my glow—golden, almost luminous.
She’s… beautiful. In a way I’ve never seen before.
Reality crashes back.
I touch my lips, stunned.
Luna stands, shoving past the crowd. “Happy now?”
Kylie crouches beside me. “You okay?”
I blink, snapping out of the daze, fingers still brushing my lips. “I’m fine. Just… leave her alone.”
I push past the crowd and bolt upstairs, slamming my door.
I collapse face-first into my pillow, heart thundering, body buzzing like I’ve been electrocuted.
A slow smile creeps across my face.
My first real kiss.
But then doubt floods in.
Did she mean it? Or was it just to shut them up? To prove she wasn’t gay?
She’d asked what I’d think if she was. Was that a hint? Or was the kiss her way of hiding the truth?
The questions spin until exhaustion wins. I fall asleep tangled in confusion.
Next morning, Luna’s gone. For days she avoids me—no visits, no school (she skips), no texts.
One evening I’m sprawled on the living-room floor, homework spread across the coffee table, half-watching TV, when a knock sounds at the back door.
Luna stands there, backpack slung over one shoulder, waving awkwardly.
I motion her in, confused. She usually just walks right through.
She steps inside, eyes flicking to me, then the TV—anywhere but holding my gaze.
“Hey… any chance you could help me with homework?” she asks, voice unusually quiet.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Algebra. I suck at it.”
I grin. “It’s not bad. I actually love it. Learned it when I was seven.”
“Nerd,” she teases, faint smirk returning.
I gasp dramatically. “Fine. Figure it out yourself.”
“No—wait!” She lunges across the table, grabbing my hand. “Please. I really need help.”
Her fingers are warm. She realizes, blushes slightly, and lets go fast. “Sorry.”
I narrow my eyes, grinning. “Kidding.”
She slides her worksheet over. We lean in as I explain.
That’s when I catch it—a soft, floral perfume. And when she turns, her lips have a subtle shine.
“Are you wearing perfume?” I ask. “And… lip gloss?”
She pulls back, touching her mouth self-consciously. “Yeah. Do you hate it?”
“No, it smells nice.” I pause. “But… why? You never wear stuff like that.”
Her cheeks flush deeper. “Just trying something different.” She starts wiping the gloss off with her sleeve. “Stupid idea, right?”
I nod absently. “Yeah, it’s… different.”
We fall quiet, focusing on equations.
After a while she needs a break and rests her head on folded arms.
I keep working—until her breathing deepens. She’s out.
I prop my chin on my hand, watching her sleep.
My gaze drifts to her lips.
That kiss replays in my head. The softness. The surprise. The way everything stopped.
I smile, wondering what it’d feel like if it happened again. If it was on purpose.
Then she tenses. A soft, pained moan escapes. Brows knit like she’s trapped in something awful.
I reach out without thinking, gently stroking the back of her head.
She calms almost instantly.
The touch stirs her. Panicking, I yank my hand back and pretend to scribble equations.
She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “Crap. Fell asleep. Sorry.”
“Did you?” I lie, not looking up. “Didn’t notice.”
We finish the assignment. Silence stretches, thick with something unsaid.
Finally she speaks, eyes on her paper. “I’m sorry. For kissing you at the party.”
I glance over. She won’t meet my eyes.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “Dumb game.”
She fiddles with her pencil. “So… what’d you think? About the kiss?”
I hesitate. “It was… okay?”
Her brow furrows. “Just okay?”
“Well, it surprised me. And I don’t have much to compare it to. Only ever kissed Mom and Kylie.”
“Yeah.” She stares at her worksheet. “Guess it wasn’t that different from kissing them.”
The words sting more than I expect.
I swallow. “Why’d you do it?”
She shrugs, still not looking up. “Panicked. Wanted them to stop calling me gay.”
“But… you’re not, right?”
The pencil snaps in her hand.
She finally meets my eyes—hurt, angry. “I can’t believe you’d ask that. You know me better than anyone.”
“But you—”
“You know what? Screw it. Yes, Meleek. I’m gay. I hate guys. Kissing you was disgusting. Happy?”
She shoves her crumpled papers into her bag and stands.
“Luna, wait—I’m sorry—”
“Don’t talk to me.” She storms out, slamming the door so hard the windows rattle.
After that, radio silence.
No visits. No answered calls. No texts.
I replay every word, every moment, until my head aches.
I thought she was my best friend.
Now it feels like I’ve lost her for good.
