Story 1: Butterfly Kisses

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Erika asked leaning back against the side of the house. Her brown hair swaying as the wind blew through it.

Hayley smiled, her eyes fixed on the sky, and taking a step closer to the edge of the roof she sighed, "I want to be a butterfly." Her tone was whimsical, as if she was lost in a pleasant dream.

"Why would you want to be that?" Erika chuckled softly, watching the little blonde girl with caring eyes. Drawing her knees up to her chest and crossing her arms across her knees, Erika leaned forward, resting her chin on her arms.

The wind tousled Hayley's short, wheat-coloured hair, making it seem to dance on the breeze. Closing her grey eyes, she extended her arms out to the side, taking in a deep breath. She stood there a moment, holding one little foot out over the edge, as if debating stepping out.

"If I was a butterfly, maybe just once, people will think I am pretty," her words grew soft, more timid, as she opened her eyes.

"Hayley, you are beautiful just the way you are," Erika retorted sharply, lifting her head up.

"Not really," Hayley chimed in quickly, turning to face her. "But it's just a silly dream," she smiled cheerfully at Erika.

Erika smiled back at her friend, shaking her head. "You're weird, you know that, right?" she stood up, opening the window to her room. "I'm going back inside," she announced, sliding through the frame.

Not bothered by her words, Hayley turned around to face the sky again. "Just a dream..." she whispered.

Inside her room, Erika stood there for a moment, watching the little girl. It's been like this every day this week, with her coming over to Erika's house, just to stand on the roof and daydream. As strange as it was, she never really minded Hayley's moods because her company was always pleasant. They were best friends after all and she loved spending every moment with her.

"Hey Caterpillar!" Erika shouted out towards her.

"Caterpillar?" Hayley turned to face Erika, her bare feet unmoving and the look on her face quizzical.

"It's getting late, crawl back inside," she smirked playfully as she walked over to her bed, sitting down.

"Why did you call me Caterpillar?" Hayley asked as she stepped inside. Sitting down on the floor she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and pouted her pretty mouth at her friend.

Lying back on her bed, Erika stared at the ceiling. "Because, you are not a butterfly yet."

"One day..." Hayley whispered softly, looking down at the floor.

"Maybe," was all Erika replied.

They sat there awhile in silence, Hayley looking at the floor, tracing patterns in hard wood flooring with her finger while Erika closed her eyes, humming a low tune to a song that somehow got stuck in her head.

"Erika?" Hayley whispered, her chin now resting on the bed, next to Erika's knee. She sat on her knees, her arms outstretched in front of her on the bed.

Erika opened one eye, "Yes?"

Extending her right index finger, she traced invisible circles on Erika's leg nervously. "Well, do you think that one day I will fly?" she asked innocently.

Erika smiled, rolling over on to her side, facing Hayley. "I believe you can do anything if you set your mind to it," she replied, extending her hand out to caress Hayley's soft pale cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.

"Th- Thanks," Hayley whispered blushing softly.

"Just promise me something," Erika said sitting up, a leg on either side of Hayley's shoulders.

"Anything!" Hayley beamed, sitting up straight.

"Promise you won't fly away from me."

Hayley grew silent for a second, looking up at Erika with wide eyes. But in a short moment, Hayley sprang up quickly, tackling Erika in an affectionate hug, both of them falling back on to the bed.

In surprise, Erika coughed some. "What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"I'd never fly away from you!" Hayley replied, kissing Erika on the cheek.

Story 2: Apple of Her Eye

Her name was Miss Ellis. She was twenty-two years old and fresh out of college, and my daughter Mimi was a student in her first grade class. Mimi fell in love with her on the first day of school. She never told me this, of course, but a mother always knows. She came home that first day and she sparkled as she told me everything that had happened, how Miss Ellis had read them a story from a brightly coloured picture book and how she had hung on her every word.

"And- and I want to give her an apple!" she announced.

"An apple?" I asked. I was peeling grapes for her lunch box the next day.

"Yes," she said, "it was in the book we read today. The kids, they gave their teacher an apple, and I think it would be a nice thing to do."

"Alright," I said, "we will get some apples. Any kind of apple in particular?"

Mimi thought about it for a moment. "A big red one!"

The next morning she marched off to school with her big proud apple held delicately out in front of her, and when she came back home that afternoon, all she could talk about was how much Miss Ellis had loved her gift, and how she wanted to bring her teacher an apple every single day for the rest of the school year.

So I let her.

She was pretty, in a tired sort of way. Sometimes, when I was picking Mimi up from school, I would see her off in the distance, leaving the classroom with her giant blue schoolbag slung over her shoulder. She always had a man with her, a great big man who looked like a soldier but moved like a dancer. She would lock the classroom door, he would snake an arm around her shoulders, and the two would be off. Then Mimi would jump in the car and start talking a mile a minute, throwing forth all her stories from the day, and Miss Ellis would be painted in such a shining, golden light that all my worries would disappear.

I finally met Miss Ellis at Mimi's open house. She took me in and sat me down and told me everything a teacher ought to say to a little girl's mother: "Mimi is a very bright student" and "She is a great addition to our learning environment."

Then she sighed and she looked at me intently and she said, "Mrs. Shepard, every day, Mimi brings me an apple, and it's a really sweet gesture, but - I thought - it's awfully old-fashioned, don't you think, and - I thought - I don't really need all these apples, it's already been more than my boyfriend and I can finish together!" she laughed and her hand strayed to her coral-coloured sleeve. "I just don't want you to think it's... necessary for her to do this."

I said quietly, "The apple thing was not my idea. It's something Mimi likes to do."

Miss Ellis looked surprised. I stood up to leave. "It was nice to meet you, Miss Ellis."

The next morning I didn't give Mimi an apple. I deliberately woke her up late, and in the flurry of getting ready, she didn't even notice. It wasn't until she hopped out of the car, that earnest, trusting smile on her round freckly face, and slammed the door and bounced off towards Miss Ellis' classroom, that I noticed the guilty hunger gnawing at my stomach.

I couldn't focus all day. All I could think about was Mimi's face when she realised she didn't have an apple to give Miss Ellis. She'd be crushed. She lived for those moments, those brief encounters, the fleeting student-teacher interactions that made her feel complete.

Suddenly I realised that it was not my place to protect Mimi from her own emotions. If Miss Ellis was used goods, if she had a boyfriend, if her apples went unnoticed and were unwanted, and if Mimi loved her all the same... well, then, I could learn a thing or two from my daughter.

I brought an apple with me when I picked Mimi up that day. She did not run to the car when she saw me. She shuffled forlornly, with her little face turned to the ground. I held out the apple when she opened the door. Her face lit up when she saw it.

"Go take this to Miss Ellis," I said.

I watched as she scampered up to Miss Ellis' classroom, almost tripping over her own feet from excitement. But she opened the door to a sight she did not want to see. The man was standing in Miss Ellis' classroom, his face leaning next to hers, their lips locked in a kiss.

My daughter stood there, quivering, a tiny sapling in the shadow of a towering tree, and I almost got out of the car to rush and comfort her, but she held her ground. The man broke the kiss, shook his head and walked out, leaving Mimi standing alone outside of the classroom.

Miss Ellis was blushing. Mimi didn't understand what had just happened, but she understood sorrow in her little heart. She understood heartbreak. But still, she walked into the classroom and she held out the apple in both hands, a sacred offering, a silent gesture of love and acceptance.

And Miss Ellis wiped her eyes, and she smiled, and she took the apple.

Story 3: Flowers in the Rain

Diiiiing...Doooong.... the school bell hollered. It shattered every thought racing though Inna's head by announcing the end of yet another long and dreary day. It was the type of day that lasts an eternity. Inna picked up her books and pencils and shoved them into her backpack, then swung it over her shoulder and walked out of her seventh grade class.

Thank God this day had finally came to a close, was all she could think as she weaved through the halls, blending in with crowds of students. When she finally made it to her locker, she begin to untangle the code of her lock. The door swung open and a small burst of air hit her face. She picked up her umbrella and then reached for a sweater to put on her back to keep herself warm. As she leaned back, she felt two hands slither around her waist. It immediately made her smile.

It was her. It was the person she told every single one of her deepest secrets, as well as the few dorky ones that only made her blush. It was the person that could make her laugh even when there were tears running like rivers down her cheeks. It was the person that made her lose so much sleep because she could not stop thinking about her. It was Heidi.

"Hi, beautiful!" she spoke to Inna like the word beautiful was the name written on Inna's birth certificate. She said it like it was Inna's name and it made the thirteen-year-old girl blush thinking that someone might have heard Heidi's compliment. Inna could never understand how it just rolled off Heidi's tongue so easily. She could never be as fearless and confident as Heidi. She was just too shy.

"Hi, Heidi," Inna said as smile broke out from every direction of her being. She pulled her sweater on and picked up her backpack. Heidi looked at her and into Inna's eyes. Sometimes Inna felt as if Heidi could see so much deeper then just her eyes. Perhaps she could read her mind, see into her heart, draw the map of her very soul...

Inna let go of the thought, realising just how completely cheesy it sounded.

"Where would you like to go today?" Heidi asked.

"It's going to rain soon. I think it's best if we stay inside so we don't get wet. Maybe somewhere we can be warm?"

"I was thinking about the park," Heidi continued as if Inna's comment about the rain had not been spoken.

"But Heidi, it's going to rain..." Inna reminded her friend.

Heidi reached down and slowly slid her finger against the palm of Inna's hand. She took Inna's hand into her own and slowly interlocked their fingers, then leaned over and whispered quietly in her friend's ear, "So we'll get wet."

Both girls laughed before making their way to the park. The dark clouds filled with rain slowly made their way across the sky. By the time they reached the park, the rain had already begun to come down. The backpack on Inna's shoulder was becoming heavier by each minute. She turned around to see Heidi throwing hers under a small shelter nearby.

"I don't want it to get wet," she explained, reaching for Inna's school bag at the same time.

Inna smiled at how Heidi knew her so well, just as she knew Heidi. Heidi took Inna's hand once again in hers and led her into the middle of the field where on weekends there were sport games in progress, but on a normal week day barely anyone went to the park, especially on days like today when it was supposed to rain.

Out of nowhere, Heidi whispered in Inna's ear, "I'm cold. Would you hug me, please?"

"We're in the park, Heidi. In the middle of the field..."

"But I'm cold, Inna," Heidi whispered, her breath fogging before her face.

Inna could tell that Heidi was not going to take no for an answer. She smiled and began to play along with her friend's antics.

"What if someone sees us?" Inna asked, slightly worried.

Heidi shrugged her shoulders as usual, "Let them watch." She placed her hands on either side of Inna's waist as Inna slid hers up and around Heidi's neck. Heidi buried her face in Inna's neck and kissed the warm patch of skin there as she held Inna close to herself in tight embrace.

From nowhere, a sudden burst of rain began crashing down on them. The two girls flinched and looked up to the sky. Inna looked at Heidi only to see she wasn't looking at the sky. Instead, she was looking at Inna, in complete amazement. Inna peered into Heidi's eyes and leaned in to her. Their lips brushed together for a few moments until Heidi pulled back and smiled. The rain continued to pound harder on their shoulders.

There they were, in the middle of a field, sharing a kiss that felt like it was the first one they'd ever had. Two girls looked into each other's eyes just as they always had and finally understood what they were seeing.

Smiles floated on both faces as they once again touched their lips. The rain poured. And they felt alive for the very first time in their lives.

Story 4: 桜の花びらたち ¹

Tomoka sat next to me, snuggled beneath the kotatsu ² while working on her homework. She sighed putting down her pen and laid back on a pillow.

"God, I'm so tired of learning Kanji ³ !"

"I guess we could take a break," I said, setting down my notebook. Tomoka sprung back up, smiling at me.

"Hey, Mio-chan, you know Kaito senpai ⁴ from 3-B? Do you think he's a good kisser? I mean his lips are like perfect!" she commented.

"Um.... no. Why would I care?" I asked. She knows I'm not into boys.

"Oh that's right. Well I think he could," she said smiling, all spaced out and thinking about God knows what.

"Hmm..." I said looking back at my homework.

"Well, surely you must have some opinion, Mio-chan. I mean even if you're not into that, lips are lips. Right?" she said, grinning that mischievous grin of hers.

I blushed hard, trying to hide my face behind my long black hair. She saw me though and, like the person she is, she couldn't let it go.

"Wait, Mio-chan... Have you ever even kissed someone?" she asked, scooting closer to me.

"Well... um... I mean..."

"Oh-my-God! You haven't!" she squealed with laughter.

"Shut up, Tomoka!" I said, still embarrassed.

"Why not? I mean, you're thirteen, Mio-chan. Surely there must have been one girl you've kissed."

"No... I mean... I've only dated one person and she only lasted a few days and we just never kissed, I guess."

I caught Tomoka staring at my lips with a sly smirk on her face.

"What?"

"B- But you have the perfect lips for it!" she said, still in shock. "I bet they're softer than fresh mochi ⁵."

"Um... th- thanks... I guess..."

"You're welcome," she said, scooting closer to me. Now I know that Tomoka can't help but sexually harass everyone she talks to but right now she's acting all weird and it's officially freaking me out.

"Damn," she whispered.

"Tomo-chan, what are you doing?" I asked, leaning back.

"Oh hush," she said, placing a finger on my lips. "Mochi... Mochi... Mochi..."

"S- Stop it!" I cried out, embarrassed.

"I knew it. They're so soft," and then, "Have you ever just wanted to try it?"

"Of course... I mean... I have. But with whom?" I regretted saying that as soon as I saw that familiar, perverted look on her face.

"I could help you out, Mio-chan!" she said, letting her fingers dance over my thigh.

"Umm..." I stuttered, unable to form a sentence. I've always had a bit of a crush on Tomoka, but never in a million years have I thought that she'd swing that way.

My heart skipped a beat as she brushed her lips up against mine. My breath hitched in my throat as she deepened it.

When the kiss broke, she left me breathless and blushing. Tomoka on the other hand just smirked in that cool confident way of hers, totally unfazed by all of this.

"I was right! You are a good kisser, Mio-chan," she said.

Without any thought, I wrapped my arms around her neck and brought her in for another kiss. This time she slipped her tongue into my mouth and pulled me down on the futon ⁶.

I moaned into her mouth and she pinned me under her and her hands slid up my school skirt.

"I- I didn't know you are this way, Tomo-chan..." I stuttered in between kisses.

"Like I said, lips are lips, and yours are very delicious," she said before locking lips with me again.

She bit my lower lip, making me go crazy. God, what have I been missing all these years. I tried my best not to moan too loudly and alert my parents who were downstairs as she licked me on my neck, sucking.

"To- Tomo-chan..."

"You know what? Forget I asked about Kaito senpai," she said, straddling me. "Who needs boys when I can have your kisses."

I knew she'd never have enough once she got a little taste, a little touch... So thank you Tomo-chan for being my first that day, and... let's just say... that kiss beneath the kotatsu wasn't my only first that day.

1. Translates to 'sakura no hanabiratachi' or cherry blossom petals.
2. Kotatsu is a low table frame covered by a heavy blanket upon which a table top sits. Underneath is a heat source, often built into the table itself. Kotatsu are used almost exclusively in Japan.
3. Kanji are the adopted logographic Chinese characters used in the modern Japanese writing system along with hiragana and katakana.
4. Senpai is a term used to address or refer to one's senior colleagues in a school or sports club. At school, the students in higher grades than oneself are senpai.
5. Mochi is Japanese soft and chewy rice cake.
6. Futon is traditional Japanese bedding consisting of padded mattresses and quilts pliable enough to be folded and stored away during the day.

Story 5: Careless Whisper

The worst part is the kids all around us. It's the school dance night after all. Who can blame them? I wish I could ignore them, but I am too nervous to look into your eyes, and I have to look somewhere.

We're the kids you see at every school dance, you know the ones, the kids that are too scared to dance. The ones that make a joke out of it and pretend they don't care, pretend they're too cool to dance, pretend it doesn't bother them that they are all alone.

I hate when others, the popular, confident kids, smirk at me slyly or grin and whisper behind my back with their fingers pointing, making my cheeks burn.

I glare as hard as I can, believe me. But it's kind of hard to glare when you see blue dots everywhere.

Then I see you smile.

You smile at me and I look down shyly, not knowing what to say. And you whisper something, but I can't hear over the music and my heart pounding. I just see your mouth move and I bite my lip uncertainly, not meeting your darkened eyes.

You know, I'm usually a brave girl, really.

But I can't pretend I'm not terrified to dance with you.

You mean so much to me. But...

You're a girl too.

I see your mouth move again and I realise you're whispering my name.

I don't know what to say so I just whisper your name back. And you smile and your dark eyes glimmer and I think I've lost myself again. I try to concentrate on the dance steps but my mind is flitting around like a butterfly, and my eyes must be too. I close them so you can only see my eyelashes; you can't see how my eyes are glowing.

And when I open them again you're close. Too close. I think I see spirals in your eyes and I feel like I'm hypnotised. Like it's a dream.

I'm never scared in dreams. There are no sneering kids in my dream, no pointing fingers and mocking whispers.

There is only you in my dream.

And so I let you lean in, and I can't hear the music anymore. All I can hear is my heart beating a tattoo against my chest as I inhale and imagine myself standing beside us with a measuring tape, watching the distance between our mouths.

Three inches, two inches. I'm afraid I'm going to fall over. Everything seems dizzy.

One inch. The dance floor around us is spinning and I can hear the blood in my veins and I feel dizzy; I've lost my balance.

And then I find it again, with your mouth on mine. I've never been more scared or fascinated; the warmth entrances me. I can't see the dance floor because I've closed my eyes and you can only see my eyelashes again; I don't want you to see how my eyes are glowing.

And when I open them again you're gazing at me. I break off the kiss in alarm, without meaning to. The song ends and then I think of a million things to say, how I'm not scared anymore, how I love you, how that kiss felt so good, how my eyes are glowing and how I think I've lost my balance.

But all I hear is the laughter around us and taunting, scoffing insults and accusing fingers and... tears in your eyes.

Story 6: Assassin's Kiss

I've never ridden the Ferris wheel before, nor had I ever been to a carnival.

But now, sitting in this octagonal pod, I could cross those two things off of my to-do list. Sitting alone with a strange woman I didn't know, however, was not on the list.

I guess I never realised how exceedingly awkward it was going to be after my Dad dropped me off and some guy ushered me on here, saying that someone didn't have a partner. Seeing as how I was also alone, we were immediately paired together.

I swallowed gently, stealing a glance at my silent partner. Tall and imposing, and a dash threatening, almost like some mysterious character out of a late night movie I was too young to watch. But I couldn't ignore the traits that made her incredibly attractive. She looked like an assassin on a job, a CIA hitman... or a hitwoman, if such exists. Definitely some sort of a hitperson. The dark hair against her pale skin, her full, bloodred lips, those blue eyes. Deep blue eyes. The colour almost made me believe that they had the ocean trapped inside of them. They weren't crystal blue, the typical, over-hyped kind. It was something darker, richer, turbulent... an ocean caught in a wicked storm.

She was dressed in all black, the black fabric of her leather jacket clinging to her chest and abdomen in all the right places. She was tall, skinny but also athletic and defined. A single silver chain hung around her neck, a small silver scorpion from it.

The atmosphere however was so thick you could cut it with a knife... not that I imagined it to be any different. Alone, with some strange woman I couldn't help staring at.

Just then, while I was staring at her extra intensely, she turned to me, watching me with an unreadable expression.

"Is there something you need?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. Hearing her voice sent a little thrill through me, like I knew a secret no one else did. She had slightly foreign accent, like one of those Russian spies you see in the movies.

I shook my head nervously. "N- no why?" I tripped over my words, stuttering lightly. Internally cursing my social awkwardness.

"Because you keep staring at me," she said calmly.

I blushed when she pointed out the fact that I had been rudely ogling. I looked down at my lap, hoping that this wouldn't escalate into an argument.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," I said quietly.

She shrugged. "It's okay, I mean, you're not the first," she dismissed the subject quickly, leaving me surprised. I had expected her to say something sour, or rude. I was surprised when she just let it drop, and caught myself glaring at her again as she returned her attention back out the window.

Why is she dismissing me so lightly, I asked myself, twiddling my fingers, one of the nervous habits I had.

She turned slowly, noticing me staring again.

"You're doing it again," she said calmly, meeting my gaze evenly.

I nodded, never breaking eye contact. "I- I know."

Say something cruel, or something mean! I was irritated when I started searching for some sign of impoliteness. I was searching for something about her that should repulse me, but was coming up dry.

"Is there something wrong?" she crossed her legs as she asked this, running one of her hands through her dark curls.

I looked back down, defeated. "Are... are you a... Russian assassin?"

She looked surprised when I asked this and laughed. "Oh, that's sassy," she uttered.

My head snapped up, "What do you mean 'that's sassy'?" I repeated, defensive now.

She shrugged, still not minding me much. "Well, I think you're a silly little girl if you think I'm a Russian assassin."

I shot up, "Who do you think you're talking to?!"

She stayed calm. "Some kid on a Ferris wheel."

"Either way, I'm not some silly little girl. I'm thirteen!"

Without warning, our pod shuddered, shaking before it stilled. It took me a few minutes to realise that all the other pods had done the same, and then it dawned on me that we were stuck at the very top.

"I had a feeling this might happen," she said quietly, her voice was nearly inaudible. Her comment didn't seem to be meant for me, and a pang of jealously welled up in my chest.

"Will you stop ignoring me!?" I demanded suddenly, crossing my arms, not completely aware of how childish the act was.

The woman looked up at me, amused expression colouring her otherwise pale face. Her full lips pulled into a sweet smile, the expression immediately sending my heart racing. I stood there, staring at her, completely perplexed by how gorgeous she was when she smiled.

"What made you think I was ignoring you?" she stood up as she said this, looking slightly smug, with just the faintest twinge of victory clinging to it.

The tall woman stood in front of me, running a hand through her dark, silky hair. Instinctively, I scooted backwards, not stopping until I felt the cool glass press up against my back through my shirt. She followed, pressing her palms to the glass on either side of my shoulders. She stood close to me, her chest brushing mine, the pleasant smell of her wafting up my nostrils. I kept my eyes locked on the floor, flushing red.

Her voice was sweet, but slightly superior, as if she were talking to a child who was insisting that they knew the truth. "Is that why you're angry? Because you felt like I ignored you when I said that you were acting sassy?" she asked lightly.

I shook my head, perhaps a bit too violently, blushing a deeper colour of red at her calling of my actions. "Of course not! I don't even know you! It's just... It's... Are you going to ass- assassinate me? Because if you are, you must know... I'm- I'm not afraid of you!"

She came closer, which was really saying something, considering how there were mere inches separating us now. "That's a very curious thing to say," she leaned down slightly and whispering it in my ear like a dirty secret. Her lips softly grazing the sensitive flesh, her cool breath trailing down my neck. I shivered responsively, biting my lower lip, confused by the chills it sent down my spine.

"I'm Natasha," she said quietly into my ear "What's your name, little girl?"

I fumbled for strength, but was only able to answer her question. "M- Mia," I replied simply, resisting the urge to reach up, and touch her lips. "Please don't hurt me."

She touched my chin, lifting it up gently. Natasha's lips slid across my cheek, a soft caress.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to, Mia," she whispered against my skin, her voice sounding like honey in my ears. "If you tell me to stop, sweetheart, I will stop." Her lips lingered next to mine, barely a whisper away.

My heart raced in my chest, thudding so loud I suspected that she could hear its discord. I turned beet red, standing completely still, not knowing what to do or even less, what to expect. Her mouth hovered over mine, so close, barely a centimetre away. Then, her gaze connected with mine, and half a second later, our lips met.

Her lips captured mine, pulling me into a soft kiss. The back of my head lightly tapped against the glass that was supporting me, making a small audible click. Her lips felt so soft against mine, soft and affectionate and demanding at the same time. Natasha seemed to have a certain power, a magnetism that made it nearly impossible not to be attracted to her.

Questions began to flood my mind.

What will my dad think?

How bad will he punish me if he finds out?!

Will my mother be ashamed?

Will... will my brother understand?

But one sang the loudest, a question for myself.

Does this make me a lesbian?!!

One of her arms snaked around my waist, holding me against her and pulling me out of my thoughts. She gently tilted my head back, deepening the kiss. Then, perhaps just to tease me, Natasha suddenly pried her lips away.

"Do you still think I'm ignoring you?" she breathed.

I wanted to answer, say something snarky, witty and smart all at the same time so that she wouldn't think I was just a little kid riding on a Ferris wheel, but unfortunately, still dazed by her kiss, I could only shake my head stupidly. I leaned into her, silently asking for more while blushing at the same time.

I pulled her lips back to mine, eager for this new attention that I was receiving. I wrapped my arms around her neck, clinging to her tightly. The azure eyed woman pulled me closer, our kiss beginning to heat up again. Natasha's lips beginning to devour mine, and I found myself so small and lost in her arms, but kissing her just as hungrily.

She pulled me down, until both of us were sitting on the cold floor of our pod. Her lips only broke contact with mine for a moment, then they returned to mine as she settled onto the ground and pulled me into her lap. She reached down, gripping the fabric of my shirt by its edge and pulled it up and off me in one fluid motion. She caressed my cheek with her lips, trailing down, sucking along my collarbone, biting my neck softly.

Then it hit me. What in hell was I doing? I didn't know this strange woman. For all I knew she could really have been a hired killer.

But her eyes told me otherwise, dark blue, like impending storm clouds. They spoke volumes, and I suddenly trusted that dark blue hue of hers with my life.

My heart was going crazy, skipping a beat here and there, beating faster than it ever had in my entire life. Who would have known that this female assassin from Russia would be interested in a thirteen-year-old kid like me.

The Ferris wheel was still standing still and I suddenly wondered how much longer we would remain here.

Questions began swirling in my mind, was I ever going to see her again? Was this a joke? Is she making fun of me? Or does she like me? Do I like her?

Her lips silenced me, moving hard and demanding against mine.

"How much longer do you think we'll be up here?" I whispered against her lips, my voice far too breathy due to her hands roaming all over my body.

Natasha didn't open her azure eyes to answer me. "I don't know. Lets just enjoy it while it lasts."

"Wait!" I shouted suddenly, pushing her hand away from me and covering myself from her gaze. "Uh... I'm... uh... what's happening?" I stuttered, my cheeks now a bright tomato red.

"Shhh... It's alright, sweetheart," she whispered, gently easing my hands away and putting hers against my lips, silencing my next words.

"Close your eyes, Mia," she said softly, leaning down.

My heart thudded, loud and incessant in my chest. Yet I obeyed, though every single insecurity seemed to be screaming out at me, my heart hammering from the suspense. She hesitated, and I was tempted to lean up and ask what was wrong, when she kissed my neck gently.

I bit my lip, moaning in response, twisting my fingers into her soft black hair. Teasing my skin lightly with her teeth and tongue, stealing another breath from my lips.

Then it hit me.

I was forced back to reality. Yes, reality. The kind of reality that made me realise that my father would disown me if he ever found out what happened... the gnawing feelings forcing me to ask myself why was I naked with a woman I didn't know at all.

Natasha must have sensed my doubts, because she stopped, looking at me with her deep blue, probing eyes.

"Are you sure you want us to go on?" she bit the edge of her lip. "We can stop, I mean it, Mia."

I let out a deep breath, kissing her briefly. "No... I don't want to stop," I murmured against her lips. She moved her cool palm back over my mouth, watching me cautiously.

In the following moments we were both still, neither of us saying a word, just lying in each other's arms. I had no idea of what this meant or what it didn't mean, but I felt loved for the first time in my life. She kissed me gently, my nose, my cheek, my forehead. Her touch was just as calming as it was arousing a few moments ago.

She was warm. It was strange, the feeling of her body temperature, how it was lulling me into a state of sleepiness, like a foreign lullaby. I was slipping into a dream-like state when in the corner of my eye I noticed her holding something that resembled a remote control; or was it a cell phone?

The machine shuddered, and without warning the Ferris wheel roared back to life and began rotating as if nothing had ever happened. I pulled away from her, a little disappointed that I had to, and hurried to dress myself. The azure eyed woman pulled her shirt back on, looking cool and effortless where I was sure I looked awkward and embarrassed. Within moments, we were being pulled out, fully dressed and forced into the crowd.

"I'm so sorry about the delay. I can't explain what happened," the operator proclaimed, looking deeply troubled.

Natasha smiled, looking bemused. "It's okay, this happens to me all the time."

The operator gave us a strange look, but moved on, apologising to the next group of people exiting the machine. We began walking in the opposite direction, away from the rides, the stands and the masses of people. Her warm hand curled with mine, Natasha's fingers weaving through mine effortlessly. Holding hands with her felt so right, so natural, like I belonged with her and no one else.

I was silent, looking down, feeling the danger of a blush resurfacing.

Natasha raised our twined fingers, kissing the top of my hand lightly.

"I like you, Mia," she whispered, as if it were a bitter-sweet secret. Her eyes searched mine, looking for some type of emotion. My heart thudded in my chest, and before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth.

"I like you too! And- and I want to be an assassin like you!"

But at that moment, I knew one thing for sure. Even if she wasn't a real assassin, she definitely was a thief who stole my first kiss. And then I realised I didn't care that my dad would hate me for this, and I didn't care about the fact that she was a woman. No matter what happened between me and Natasha, this moment was strangely... perfect. Odd and beautiful, just like her, the beautiful Russian assassin I will never forget.

Story 7: Starflakes

We sat together on the bench, watching the snow, drift to the ground.

"See, they're like stars... They're starflakes," Lily's voice was soft, innocent. I turned my head to her, to look at her. My best friend. My only friend. And I knew what I was feeling at that moment. I knew... that I loved her.

She looked to me. Those pools of sapphire drew me into her.

"Lily... I- I want to..." I let my voice trail off into freezing silence around us. I knew what I wanted, but it wasn't right to expect it from her. How could I even think she would want it too? How could I ask?

"Yes Kerri?" My eyes looked down so I didn't see the smile she had on her face, but I could hear it hinting in her voice.

"Lily..." I placed my hand over hers as it rested on the bench. I rubbed her hand gently through the material of our mittens. I looked back up to her, tears almost in my eyes. I was trembling. "...I don't know..." I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't tell her.

As I began to slip my hand away, I felt her turn her palm skyward and wrap her fingers around mine. A moment after I felt a soft-gloved hand on my cheek.

I opened my eyes slowly and saw her looking at me. She smiled so sweetly, so innocently. She was truly lovely. She caressed my cheek ever so gently before she leaned in. She paused for a moment, as if to pull away, but it was too late to turn back now. I leaned in the rest of the way and our lips met. I closed my eyes as I felt her softness on my lips. A tear escaped from the corner of my eye. I wanted this for so long, and it felt like everything I had was pouring out to her.

This is what I hoped for. This is what I wanted. Waiting for this had built up so much frustration, so much desperation, and it all just left me with a single kiss. I felt as if things would be all right. This felt right.

Lily pulled away slowly and rested her forehead against mine. I smiled through my tears and opened my eyes to look at her.

"I... I didn't know," my voice cracked slightly as I spoke. I didn't know she felt the same.

"Neither did I," she smiled and kissed the tip of my nose before she leaned back and rested against the bench looking to the sky. And all I could do was watch her in her beauty.

My starflake.

Story 8: Totally Gross

"Carly?"

"Yes, Thea?" I asked.

We were on our way to school. She stopped and turned half way.

"Do you like me?" she asked, worry colouring her voice. I raised my eyebrow before answering.

"No, I walk to school every morning with you because I hate you," the sarcasm in my voice was thick. She frowned, her brow knitting together.

"That's not what I meant," the frustration evident in her voice.

I stopped walking. "Oh?" My voice quavering some. "What did you mean, Thea?" I whispered. It would be just like her to make a joke of this.

Thea sighed, swinging her school bag back and forth while muttering something that sounded like, "You're so thick."

I squeezed my books, restraining myself from giving a karate chop to her head. I kept silent though, waiting for her to continue.

She avoided my gaze momentarily, letting her eyes wander.

"Carly," she began, "I like you. More than is cool to say out loud." She took her hands out of her pockets and started to fiddle with her thumbs. "And, I guess what I'm trying to ask you, is... do you feel the same?"

She gave me a small, timid, very un-Thea-like smile. She must be telling the truth, I thought, the shock sinking in slowly. She's nervous I reasoned.

I just stood there, dumbstruck.

"Wha... Ar... Are you, serious?" I stammered.

She turned around to face me and drew nearer, her face inches from mine.

"Yes Carly. I am," she breathed. "Are- Are you grossed out...?"

"Totally," I answered her as I closed the short distanced between our lips.

For a too-short moment, I was filled with utter bliss. We pulled apart. Why do I need air to live, I complained to myself.

"Are you grossed out too, Thea?" I whispered into her ear.

She smiled her typical Thea-smile, baring her pearly teeth.

"Yeah, that was really gross," she said simply.

She laced her fingers through mine, and we continued towards the school gate.

Story 9: Three Simple Words

On the first day of her seventh grade there was a simple note in the locker. Slanted cursive words written in black, smudges at the loops and strokes of letters, specks and blots of ink scattered in the margins. Three simple words.

I'm watching you.

Eleni showed the note to her older brother Tim. His face bent into anger. "I'll kill the bastard," he growled.

She said, "I don't know who it's from."

"Doesn't matter," he spat, the rage curling his fingers into fists. The letter began to crumble. "I'll absolutely slaughter the bastard!"

Eleni carefully pulled the paper from his balled hands. "He could mean it in a nice way, you know?"

Tim's eyes shot to her sharply. "What are you talking about? How can he perv on you in a nice way?"

"He might not be perving on me," said Eleni. She carefully smoothed the crinkles out of the letter. "He might have seen me at school and thought I was pretty."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

Eleni's face fell. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

Her brother noticed and said quickly, "You're pretty, Leni, I just meant most guys wouldn't do something like this to a thirteen-year-old girl." He nodded to the letter, "If he'd thought you were hot, he'd gone up to you, asked you out. Not done something sleazy like putting a stalker note in your locker."

"Maybe he's shy," she said softly. The curls and curves of the words were gentle and inviting and familiar. "Maybe he was nervous."

Tim scoffed. "Yeah, and maybe he's a perv."

Eleni sighed. She folded the note and slid it into her pocket.

084; 084; 084; 084;

The next day there was another note and a freshly picked daisy. The petals were straight and stiff with life, freshly picked and smelling of grass and spring and sunshine. Black ink words on the paper made her smile.

You are pretty.

Eleni didn't show this note to her brother. She folded it into her diary, with the other one on the page before. Two notes in two days. It made her smile, bite her lip and look at the ground. She sat in the living room at the window, sunlight warming her bare knees, a book open on her lap. Eleni looked out the window and then the street beyond. The daisy sat in a short glass vase on the windowsill. She bent to rub her nose against the soft white petals just as her mother entered the room.

"What's with the flower?" she asked curiously.

Eleni smiled, a blush tingling in her cheeks. "It was in my locker."

"For you?"

Eleni nodded. "My name was on the envelope."

Her mother's eyebrows were suddenly lost in the mess of curls across her brow. "Was there a note as well? What did it say?"

Feeling suddenly nervous, and remembering Tim's surmisal of the letter, Eleni was reluctant to share it with her mother.

"Not much," she said, biting her lip.

Her mother smiled cheekily, "I bet it's from Jim Taylor next door. He just got back from boarding school."

Eleni looked outside, as if she would spot him in the act of placing a note in the mailbox. "Jim?" she repeated, feeling confused about the idea of the neighbouring boy being interested in her.

Laughing, her mother said before she left the room, "That boy has always been too shy to speak to anyone."

When her mother left, Eleni looked down at the note and pulled out the one from the day before. Three words on each page. Something was odd about these notes. Something very odd. She bit her lip to resist a broad smile.

084; 084; 084; 084;

On the third day, there was another note, a rose and a small chocolate heart. Eleni didn't wait to get inside to pull the letter from the envelope. Her heart skipped a beat. Three more words.

I love you.

Eleni looked at the house next door. A curtain fluttered closed at the front window, only giving her a glance of yellow hair and a quick flutter of fingers. She smiled and turned to go back inside, a bubble inflating inside her that seemed to be full of butterflies. Once inside, she went to her room and sat at her desk. She pulled out a sheet of paper that had a border of flowers and bees. Unwrapping the chocolate heart, she slipped it into her mouth and waited for it to melt across her tongue.

Eleni took a pen from the drawer. "Three words," she murmured.

She giggled softly and began to write.

084; 084; 084; 084;

Later that day, Eleni went to the mailbox neighbouring hers. Holding an envelope tightly, she glanced at the front window. There was no movement. Her eyes slid upstairs and landed on a face sticking through the curtains. Upon her stare, it disappeared. She was unable to stop smiling as she pushed the letter into the mailbox.

Instead of going back to her house, Eleni began to walk down the street. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder, even at the sound of a door closing. At the end of the road, she crossed into the park.

084; 084; 084; 084;

Eleni was swaying gently on the swing when she appeared. Yellow haired, grey eyed. Lanky, freckled, sunburnt. She was holding Eleni's note.

"Hello," she smiled. A blush tingled across her cheeks and down her spine.

Jim Taylor's little sister Abby ducked her head as she grinned. "Hi."

"I see you got my note," said Eleni. Abby showed her the paper, crinkled and smudged from her palms. Eleni's simple handwriting was in blue pen, three words printed along the page.

Love you too.

Eleni took the letter from her hand, exchanging it for her fingers.

Abby smiled broadly at her, enlacing their fingers in a tight squeeze. "And I guess you got mine."

The End