We were behind the school. Kissing.
She pushed me against the brick wall and rested her hands on my hips. I twirled my fingers in her hair.
"Mia," she whispered against my lips.
"Hm?"
"I want more than stolen kisses," she says.
I open my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is," she says, looking into my blue eyes, "I want us to be more than friends."
"More than friends?"
"More than friends."