First Kiss, Last Kiss, Every Kiss
Copyright© 2026 by SpankLord40k
Chapter 10: Three Words
The week after Riley’s party felt like the longest of Emily’s life. Every day at school, she’d catch glimpses of Sophie in the hallways - always surrounded by her friends, always looking effortlessly cool in her dark clothes and confident stride. Their eyes would meet for just a moment, and Sophie would smile that knowing smile before looking away, leaving Emily’s heart racing.
During third period on Wednesday, Emily was walking to her next class when she spotted Sophie coming from the opposite direction in the crowded hallway. Their eyes met, and Sophie smoothly slipped a folded note into Emily’s hand as they passed each other, their fingers brushing for just a moment.
Once Emily reached her classroom, she unfolded the note. A neat handwriting said: Saturday, 2 PM. My place, 124 Maple Street. Can’t wait to see you. -S
Emily read it three times, her pulse quickening. A whole day together. Just the two of them.
She tucked the note into her pocket and returned to the cafeteria, where Lola, Tiffany, and Erika were deep in conversation about some drama involving two sophomores.
“There you are!” Lola said. “You’ve been weird all week. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Emily said too quickly. “I’m fine.”
Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying. You get this look when you’re lying. Who is he?”
“Who’s who?”
“The boy!” Erika squealed. “There’s totally a boy! That’s why you’ve been all distracted and dreamy!”
Emily felt her face heat up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh my god, there IS someone!” Lola grabbed her arm. “Tell us! Who asked you out? Is it someone from our grade? A senior?”
“I’m not - it’s not - “ Emily stammered, then gave up. “Okay, fine. I’m seeing someone on Saturday. But I’m not telling you who.”
Her friends exchanged excited looks and spent the rest of lunch trying to guess which boy had captured Emily’s attention. She let them guess wrong names, knowing the truth would surprise them all eventually.
Saturday morning, Emily woke up at six AM, too nervous and excited to sleep. She had eight hours to get ready. Eight hours to transform herself into someone Sophie wouldn’t be able to resist.
She started with a long shower, shaving her legs carefully, using her mother’s expensive body wash that smelled like vanilla and jasmine. After, she moisturized every inch of skin, wanting to feel soft and smooth.
Then came the hardest part: hair and makeup.
Emily had been watching YouTube tutorials all week, practicing different looks on her phone’s camera and wiping them off before anyone could see. Today she wanted something bold - mature, sexy, confident.
She started with her hair, using the curling iron to create loose, soft waves that fell past her shoulders. It took forty-five minutes to get them right, each section carefully curled and then brushed out for that effortless, tousled look. She added texturizing spray and a tiny bit of her mother’s expensive hair oil to make it shine.
Makeup came next. Foundation first, applied carefully with a damp sponge to even out her skin. Then concealer under her eyes to hide the evidence of nervous sleeplessness. Contour along her cheekbones, jawline, and nose - subtle but enough to make her face look more angular, more mature.
For her eyes, she went bold. A smoky shadow in deep plums and blacks, blended carefully from her lash line up to just below her brow bone. Black eyeliner, thicker than usual, with a slight wing at the outer corners that made her eyes look larger and more intense. Mascara applied in three coats until her lashes looked impossibly long.
Her lips were the final touch. She chose a deep berry color - not quite red, not quite purple - and applied it carefully, using a lip liner to define the edges and make them look fuller. She blotted once, reapplied, and checked the result in the mirror.
The girl looking back didn’t look seventeen. She looked older, more sophisticated, like someone who knew exactly what she wanted.
Clothes were the last piece of the puzzle. Emily had planned this outfit days ago: dark skinny jeans that hugged her hips and legs, a fitted black V-neck top that showed just a hint of collarbone and the barest suggestion of cleavage, and her leather jacket over top. Black boots with a small heel completed the look.
She added small silver hoop earrings and the delicate bracelet her grandmother had given her for her eleventh birthday. One final check in the mirror: hair falling in perfect waves, makeup bold and flawless, outfit edgy and mature.
She looked good. Really good.
Downstairs, her mother was in the kitchen when Emily came down at 1:10.
“Oh!” Her mother did a double-take. “Honey, you look ... very grown up. Where are you going?”
“Just to Lola’s,” Emily lied smoothly. “We’re working on a project.”
Her mother’s eyes traveled over Emily’s careful styling - the waves, the dramatic makeup, the outfit that was definitely not for a study session. “That’s quite a lot of effort for homework.”
“We will take some photos after,” Emily improvised. “You know, for Instagram.”
Her mother looked skeptical but let it go. “Alright. Be home by ten, please. And keep your phone on.”
“I will. Love you!” Emily grabbed her bag and practically ran out the door before more questions could be asked.
The bus ride to Sophie’s neighborhood felt endless. Emily checked her reflection obsessively in her phone camera, making sure her makeup hadn’t smudged, that her hair still looked good. She reapplied her lip color twice.
When she finally reached Sophie’s house - a modest two-story with a well-kept lawn and a car in the driveway - it was 1:57 PM. Perfect timing. Not too early, not late.
Emily walked up the path, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She rang the doorbell and waited, suddenly terrified. What if Sophie thought she looked ridiculous? What if all this effort was too much?
The door opened.
Sophie stood there in ripped black jeans and an oversized band t-shirt, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, minimal makeup as always. But the way her eyes widened when she saw Emily, the way her gaze traveled slowly from Emily’s styled hair down to her boots and back up - that look made all the effort worthwhile.
“Wow,” Sophie breathed. “You look ... I can’t stop looking at you. You’re stunning.”
Emily felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Thanks. You look great too.”
“I look like I just rolled out of bed compared to you,” Sophie said with a laugh. Then she reached out and took Emily’s hand, pulling her inside. “Come on. My parents are out for the day. We have the whole house to ourselves.”
The words sent a thrill through Emily - nervous and excited in equal measure.
Sophie closed the door and immediately turned to face her, both hands now on Emily’s waist. “Seriously, though. You look incredible. Did you do all this for me?”
“Maybe,” Emily admitted, smiling.
“Well, it worked. I’m completely blown away.” Sophie leaned in, her lips brushing Emily’s ear. “Come upstairs?”
Emily nodded, not trusting her voice.
They climbed the stairs hand in hand, Sophie leading her down a hallway past family photos - Sophie as a child, Sophie with what must be her parents, vacation pictures. Then into a room at the end of the hall.
Sophie’s bedroom was nothing like Emily’s pink, cluttered space. The walls were painted a clean white, giving the room an open, airy feeling. A full-size bed with simple gray bedding was pushed against one wall, flanked by minimalist nightstands. A white desk sat under the window, holding a laptop and a neat stack of textbooks. Floating shelves on the walls displayed a carefully curated collection of books - fantasy novels, music biographies, art books - along with a few small potted succulents. Band posters were tacked up with care: The 1975, Arctic Monkeys, Phoebe Bridgers. In one corner stood an acoustic guitar on a stand, and in another, a small record player sat on a low table with a crate of vinyl records beside it.
The floor was light wood, mostly bare except for a small gray rug beside the bed. String lights were hung along one wall, currently off but adding a cozy touch. Everything was clean, organized, intentional - a space that felt mature and personal without being cluttered.
“I love your room,” Emily said, looking around. “It’s so ... you.”
“Thanks. I like having it simple. Less distraction.” Sophie closed the door behind them. “But right now, the only thing I want to focus on is you.”
She pulled Emily close, hands settling on her waist, and looked into her eyes with an intensity that made Emily’s breath catch. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Emily whispered.
Sophie’s lips met hers, and the world narrowed to just this - the softness of Sophie’s mouth, the warmth of her hands, the taste of mint and something sweet. The kiss started gentle but quickly deepened, weeks of anticipation making them both hungry for more.
Sophie walked Emily backward until her legs hit the bed, then gently guided her down onto it. Emily lay back against the gray pillows, and Sophie followed, settling beside her and immediately capturing her lips again.
“You’re so beautiful,” Sophie murmured between kisses. “So sexy. I couldn’t think about anything else all week except seeing you again.”
Emily smiled against her lips. “Me neither.”
They kissed for long, breathless minutes, hands exploring tentatively - Sophie’s fingers threading through Emily’s carefully styled hair, Emily’s hands tracing patterns on Sophie’s back. Each touch felt electric, charged with possibility and want.
Sophie pulled back slightly, looking at Emily with those intense dark eyes. “Is this okay? We can slow down if you want.”
“No,” Emily said quickly. “Don’t slow down. I want this.”
Sophie smiled and kissed her again, deeper this time, her tongue tracing Emily’s bottom lip. Emily opened for her, and then they were French kissing, tongues tangling together, and it was so much more intense than at the party. This time there was no rush, no audience, just the two of them with all the time in the world.
Time became meaningless. They kissed and touched and whispered to each other - about everything and nothing. About their dreams, their fears, their favorite songs and books. Between conversations, they’d fall back into kissing, unable to stay apart for long.
“I want to study music production,” Sophie said at one point, lying on her side facing Emily, playing with her hair. “Maybe in New York or LA. Somewhere with a real music scene.”
“I want to go to art school,” Emily replied. “Maybe New York too. I want to be somewhere I can really grow, you know? Somewhere I’m challenged.”
“We could go together,” Sophie said softly. “If things ... I mean, if we...” She trailed off, suddenly shy.
“If we stay together?” Emily finished.
“Yeah.”
“I’d like that,” Emily said, squeezing Sophie’s hand.
They kissed again, and this time it was slower, deeper, full of unspoken promises about a future they were just beginning to imagine.
More time passed. Emily’s leather jacket ended up on the floor. Sophie’s t-shirt rode up slightly, exposing a strip of skin at her waist. Neither of them noticed or cared. They were too lost in each other - in the taste of kisses and the sound of soft laughter and the feeling of finally, finally being able to explore this connection without interruption.
“You’re ... wow,” Sophie said quietly, pressing kisses along Emily’s jaw.
“Yeah,” Emily said, fingers in her hair. “But you are also amazing.”
At some point, they ordered pizza using Sophie’s phone, eating it cross-legged on the bed while watching music videos on Sophie’s laptop. They shared a pair of headphones, laughing at ridiculous choreography and debating which artist had the best music videos.
Emily let out a quiet breath and rested her head on Sophie’s shoulder. “I like this.”
Sophie smiled and kissed her hair. “Me too.”
Then the laptop was set aside and they were kissing again, unable to get enough of each other. Emily felt drunk on it - on Sophie’s lips and hands and the way she made her feel beautiful and wanted and seen.
Somewhere in the haze of kissing and touching, Emily’s pants ended up on the floor next to her jacket. Sophie kicked off her own pants. They were both in just their shirts and underwear now, less dressed but somehow more comfortable, closer.
“This feels like a dream,” Emily murmured against Sophie’s lips.
“If it is, don’t wake me up,” Sophie replied, and captured her mouth again.
They were deep in another kiss - Sophie’s hand cupping Emily’s face, Emily’s arms wrapped around Sophie’s waist - when something caught Emily’s attention. A glimpse of Sophie’s alarm clock on the nightstand.
10:17 PM.
“Oh my god!” Emily jerked upright so suddenly she nearly knocked Sophie off the bed. “Fuck!”
Sophie sat up, dazed and kiss-drunk. “What?”
“The time!” Emily grabbed her phone from her pocket. 10:17. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. I was supposed to be home at ten!”
Reality crashed back in. Her parents would be furious. She’d completely lost track of time, too caught up in Sophie and kisses and the perfect bubble they’d created together.
“I have to go,” Emily said, panic rising. “Right now. My parents are going to kill me.”
She scrambled off the bed, looking around frantically for her jacket, pants and boots. Sophie got up too, helping her find her things, both of them moving quickly now.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, pulling on her boots with shaking hands. “I didn’t mean to stay so long. I just - we were -”
“It’s okay,” Sophie assured her, though she looked disappointed. “I get it. Parents.”
Emily shrugged on her leather jacket and caught sight of herself in the mirror on Sophie’s closet door. Her carefully styled hair was a disaster, mussed from Sophie’s hands running through it. Her lipstick was completely gone, smudged away by hours of kissing. She looked thoroughly, obviously like someone who’d been making out all evening.
“I look like a mess,” she said.
“You look beautiful,” Sophie corrected, stepping close and wrapping her arms around Emily from behind. “Like you’ve been thoroughly kissed. Which you have.”
Emily turned in her arms, looking up at Sophie’s face. “Today was...”
“Amazing?” Sophie supplied.
“Beyond amazing.” Emily stood on tiptoe and kissed her one more time - a long, lingering kiss that tasted like goodbye and promise all at once.
When she pulled back, she looked into Sophie’s eyes and started to say what she’d been feeling all day. “Sophie, I - I l -”
The words stuck in her throat. I love you. She wanted to say it so badly. But it was too soon. Way too soon. They’d only spent one day together.
“I ... I like you,” she finished weakly. “Really, really much. So much. I’ll see you Monday at school, okay?”
Sophie smiled, a knowing look in her eyes like she’d heard the words Emily hadn’t quite said. “I like you too. Really, really much.”
They hugged one more time, and then Emily was running down the stairs and out the door, sprinting to the bus stop. She made it just in time, collapsing into a seat and trying to catch her breath.
Her phone showed seventeen missed calls from her parents and a dozen texts ranging from Where are you? to Emily Morrison, call us RIGHT NOW.
She was in so much trouble.
The bus ride home felt both too long and too short. Emily tried desperately to fix her appearance, using the dark window as a mirror. She smoothed down her hair as best she could, attempting to tame the wild mess Sophie’s hands had created. She licked her fingers and tried to wipe away the smudged eyeliner at the corners of her eyes, managing to make it look slightly less obvious. Her lips were still swollen and bare of the lipstick she’d carefully applied hours ago, but there was nothing she could do about that.
When she finally walked through her front door at 10:52 PM, both her parents were waiting in the living room, looking furious and worried in equal measure.
“Where have you been?” her father demanded. “We’ve been calling you for an hour!”
“I’m sorry,” Emily said, avoiding eye contact. “I was at Lola’s doing homework and I lost track of time. My phone was on silent. I’m really, really sorry.”
“At Lola’s,” her mother repeated, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe that for a second. “Until almost eleven at night. Doing homework.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Emily edged toward the stairs. “Can I go to my room? I’m really tired.”
“Emily, we called Lola’s mother!” her mother called after her. “She said you haven’t been there all day! Where were you really?”
But Emily was already halfway up the stairs. “I know! I’m sorry! Can we talk about this tomorrow? Please?”
She disappeared into her room before they could stop her, closing the door and leaning against it with her heart pounding.
She’d just gotten away with it. Barely.
Emily looked at herself in her mirror. Her hair was still somewhat messy despite her attempts to fix it on the bus, her makeup mostly cleaned up but with faint smudges still visible at the corners of her eyes, her lips slightly swollen from hours of kissing. She looked exactly like someone who’d spent the day making out with their girlfriend.
Girlfriend. Was that what Sophie was?
There was a knock on her door. “Em? Can I come in?”
Sarah. Of course.
“Yeah,” Emily called, quickly trying to smooth her hair.
Sarah entered and closed the door behind her, then just stood there looking at Emily with a complicated expression.
“What?” Emily asked.
“I need to tell you something,” Sarah said, and there was something heavy in her voice. “I’m moving out. After I graduate next year.”
The words hit Emily like a physical blow. All the happiness from the day with Sophie evaporated instantly.
“What?” Emily’s voice came out small, broken. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m twenty-two, Em. It’s time for me to get my own place.”
“But - “ Tears were suddenly hot in Emily’s eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. “But you can’t! I need you! I’ve always needed you!”
Anger flared hot and fast. “How can you just leave like that? What about me?”
Sarah crossed the room and pulled Emily into a hug, but Emily tried to push her away, too hurt and angry to be comforted.
“Em, listen to me,” Sarah said firmly, holding her despite her struggles. “I’m not disappearing. I’m just getting an apartment nearby. I’ll still be here whenever you need me.”
“It’s not the same!” Emily sobbed into Sarah’s shoulder, her earlier resistance crumbling. “You won’t be right next door anymore. What if I need you and you’re not here?”
“Then you’ll call me and I’ll come. Or you’ll come to my place.” Sarah stroked Emily’s hair gently. “Em, you’re so mature now. You’re making your own decisions, living your own life. You don’t need me the way you used to.”
“Yes I do!” Emily insisted. “I’ll always need you!”
“I know. And I’ll always be there for you. I promise.” Sarah pulled back to look at Emily’s tear-stained face. “But sweetie, you’ve grown up so fast. You’re almost an adult yourself. You’re handling things I never could at your age.”
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