You Cry, Just Like She Said You Would

I thrashed, face burning—whether from exertion or humiliation, I wasn't sure—but her grip was iron. She laughed again, that obnoxious, bright sound, and leaned down until her nose almost touched mine. "Say it," she whispered, breath warm against my lips. "Say girls are stronger than boys. Or I'll kiss you right now, in front of your imaginary audience." Her knee dug into my thigh, her weight pressing me deeper into the couch.

And then—worst of all—I felt it. The hot sting behind my eyes. My vision blurred, and I squeezed them shut, but a traitorous tear escaped anyway, sliding down my temple into my hair. Sanah went still. Her teasing smile faltered, replaced by something unreadable as she lifted one hand to brush the wetness away with her thumb. "Oh," she said softly. "Oh, wow. I really did make you cry."

But she didn't let go. If anything, her fingers tightened around my wrist, her body shifting to press me even harder into the cushions. Her expression was a mix of triumph and something darker, more curious, as she studied my face. "You're blushing again," she murmured, and this time, she didn't say it loud enough for anyone else to hear.

She tilted her head, her nose brushing mine—just enough to make me flinch—and grinned. "You're so fucking helpless," she whispered, like it was a secret she'd been dying to share. Her thumb traced the damp trail of my tear, slow, deliberate, before she dragged it down to my bottom lip. "And now you're just lying there, letting me do whatever I want."

I should have pushed her off. I could have. But my hands stayed limp under hers, my pulse hammering so hard I swore she could feel it through my wrists. The thought of her noticing only made my cheeks burn hotter. Sanah leaned in, her lips hovering a breath from mine, and time stretched thin, warped by the frantic drumbeat of my heart. Then—just as another tear slipped free—she kissed me. Not gentle. Not sweet. A hard, claiming press of her mouth against mine, teeth clacking, her hoodie sleeve still half-smothering me.

She tasted like cinnamon gum and the strawberry chapstick she'd been reapplying all afternoon. The scent of her shampoo—something aggressively fruity—flooded my senses as her hair curtained my face. And worst of all? My traitorous body arched up into hers before I could stop it, a muffled sound catching in my throat. Sanah made a low, triumphant noise against my lips, biting down just hard enough to sting.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were bright with something wild and unapologetic. "See?" she breathed, thumbing my wet eyelashes one last time. "I told you girls were stronger." Her grip loosened—finally—but she didn't move off me. Instead, she smirked, drumming her fingers against my ribs like I was just another surface for her restless energy. "Now tell me how much you liked it, or I'll do it again."