Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Forgotten Kiss by Rylee (list of ebook readers TXT) 📖
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thing. It’s only two bucks. Not much difference.”
“Which is exactly why I can pay for myself. It’s not much difference, after all. So take my money.”
He rolled his eyes, but took my bills and stuffed them in his wallet. “Danni Rose, you are as stubborn now as ever.”
I paused. “How do you—?”
“C’mon, Danni. Don’t you remember me?”
“No.” I recognized the name, but not the face. Who was this boy?
“Hmm. Well, that’s interesting. I’ll tell you what: I’ll tell you who I am if you can’t figure it out by the time we finish the art tour, okay?”
“It’s a deal.”
He led me into the next room, and I gasped at the first painting. It was colorful and bright, interesting and intriguing. I could spend hours in this small room! But we only had about half an hour.
Outside on the steps, twenty-six minutes later, I sat down and faced the street, the cars, the pedestrians. “Okay, Sam. I give up. Who are you and how do you know me?”
He sat down beside me. “I used to live across the street from you. We were like, best friends until I moved when we were both nine. I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, then it clicked. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I…wow. Um, yeah. Your birthday party was the last time we spoke. I remember now. I’m sorry, it was just so long ago and…I thought it all was some dream I had when I was a kid or something.”
He nodded and grinned slyly. “I was your first kiss.”
I blushed. “Yes, you were. I had no idea that you were about to kiss me, and then you did. I was so mad…furious, really. You were supposed to be my best friend, after all. And I still believed in cooties at the time.”
“Do you still now?” He asked.
“N—” But I didn’t get to finish before his lips were on mine. I should have guessed this time what he was planning, but he caught me by surprise.
At first, it was a gentle little peck, but when Sam pulled away, I cupped both his cheeks and brought his face back to mine. My hands trailed back to tangle in his hair. His hands came up to rest on my hips.
I pulled back and stared into his mischievous eyes. “Samuel Levi Jackson, you do not kiss a lady!”
“I know.” His grin widened. “That’s why I kissed you.”
I crushed my lips to his again. This kiss was better than the one when we were nine. A lot better.
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“Which is exactly why I can pay for myself. It’s not much difference, after all. So take my money.”
He rolled his eyes, but took my bills and stuffed them in his wallet. “Danni Rose, you are as stubborn now as ever.”
I paused. “How do you—?”
“C’mon, Danni. Don’t you remember me?”
“No.” I recognized the name, but not the face. Who was this boy?
“Hmm. Well, that’s interesting. I’ll tell you what: I’ll tell you who I am if you can’t figure it out by the time we finish the art tour, okay?”
“It’s a deal.”
He led me into the next room, and I gasped at the first painting. It was colorful and bright, interesting and intriguing. I could spend hours in this small room! But we only had about half an hour.
Outside on the steps, twenty-six minutes later, I sat down and faced the street, the cars, the pedestrians. “Okay, Sam. I give up. Who are you and how do you know me?”
He sat down beside me. “I used to live across the street from you. We were like, best friends until I moved when we were both nine. I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, then it clicked. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I…wow. Um, yeah. Your birthday party was the last time we spoke. I remember now. I’m sorry, it was just so long ago and…I thought it all was some dream I had when I was a kid or something.”
He nodded and grinned slyly. “I was your first kiss.”
I blushed. “Yes, you were. I had no idea that you were about to kiss me, and then you did. I was so mad…furious, really. You were supposed to be my best friend, after all. And I still believed in cooties at the time.”
“Do you still now?” He asked.
“N—” But I didn’t get to finish before his lips were on mine. I should have guessed this time what he was planning, but he caught me by surprise.
At first, it was a gentle little peck, but when Sam pulled away, I cupped both his cheeks and brought his face back to mine. My hands trailed back to tangle in his hair. His hands came up to rest on my hips.
I pulled back and stared into his mischievous eyes. “Samuel Levi Jackson, you do not kiss a lady!”
“I know.” His grin widened. “That’s why I kissed you.”
I crushed my lips to his again. This kiss was better than the one when we were nine. A lot better.
Imprint
Publication Date: 07-12-2012
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