A Thousand Boy Kisses

Doing as he said, I walked down to the basement and into the small side room my pappa had converted into a darkroom for me. I still developed film in the old style instead of using a digital camera. I thought it made for a better result.

After twenty minutes, I stepped back from the line of new pictures. I had also printed the photo from my phone, of Poppy and me at the field. I picked it up and carried it to my bedroom. I stuck my head into Alton’s room as I passed, checking my two-year-old brother was sleeping. He was, curled up tight to his brown stuffed bear, his messy blond hair spread out over his pillow.

I pushed through my door and turned on my lamp. I looked at the clock, registering it was near midnight. Running my hand through my hair, I made my way to the window, and smiled when I saw the Litchfield house in darkness, save for the dim light from Poppy’s nightlight—Poppy’s sign that the coast was clear for me to sneak in.

I locked my bedroom door and switched off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness. I quickly changed into my sleep pants and shirt. Silently, I lifted the window and climbed out. I sprinted across the grass between our two houses and crawled inside Poppy’s room, closing the window as quietly as I could.

Poppy was in bed, tucked under the covers. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was soft and even. Smiling at how cute she looked with her cheek resting in her hand, I padded over, placed her present on the nightstand and climbed in beside her.

I lay beside her, my head dropping to share her pillow.

We’d done this for years. The first night I stayed over was a mistake; I climbed into her room, at age twelve, to talk, but I fell asleep. Fortunately, I woke early enough the next morning to sneak back into my own bedroom unnoticed. But then the next night, I stayed on purpose, then the night after that, and almost every night since. Luckily we’d never been found out. I wasn’t too sure Mr. Litchfield would like me the same if he knew I slept in his daughter’s bed.

But staying beside Poppy in bed was becoming more and more difficult. Now I was fifteen, I felt differently around her. I saw her differently. And I knew she did me. We kissed more and more. The kisses were getting deeper, our hands starting to explore places they shouldn’t. It was getting harder and harder to stop. I wanted more. I wanted my girl in every possible way.

But we were young. I knew that.

It didn’t make it any less difficult though.

Poppy stirred beside me. “I wondered if you were coming tonight. I waited for you but you weren’t in your room,” she said sleepily as she pushed my hair from my face.

Capturing her hand, I kissed her palm. “I had to develop my film, and my parents were acting weird.”

“Weird? How?” she asked, shuffling closer and kissing my cheek.

I shook my head. “Just … weird. I think something’s going on, but they told me not to worry.”

Even in the dim light I could see Poppy’s eyebrows were pulled together in concern. I squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Remembering the present I’d brought her, I reached behind me and took the picture from the nightstand. I’d put it in a simple silver frame. I tapped the flashlight icon on my phone and held it up so Poppy could see better.

She gave a small sigh and I watched as a smile lit up her entire face. She took hold of the frame and stroked her finger across the glass. “I love this picture, Rune,” she whispered, then placed it on her nightstand. She gazed at it for a few moments, then turned back my way.

Poppy lifted the covers and held them high so I could shuffle underneath. I laid my arm over Poppy’s waist and moved closer to her face, peppering soft kisses over her cheeks and neck.

When I kissed the spot just below her ear, Poppy began to giggle and pulled away. “Rune!” she whispered, “that tickles!”

I drew back and threaded my hand through hers.

“So,” Poppy asked, lifting her other hand to play with a long strand of my hair, “what are we doing tomorrow?”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “We’re not, my pappa is making us go out as a family for the day. To the beach.”

Poppy sat up excitedly. “Really? I love the beach!”

My stomach dropped. “He said we have to go alone, Poppymin. Just the family.”

“Oh,” Poppy said, sounding disappointed. She lay back down on the bed. “Have I done something wrong? Your pappa always invites me along with y’all.”

“No,” I assured her. “It’s what I was saying before. They’re acting strange. He said he wants us to spend the day as a family, but I think there’s something else.”

“Okay,” Poppy said, but I could hear the sad tone in her voice.

I cupped her head in my hand and promised, “I’ll be back for dinner. We’ll spend tomorrow night together.”

She took hold of my wrist. “Good.”

Poppy stared at me, her green eyes wide in the dull light. I stroked my hand along her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Poppymin.”