"So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane."

— John Green, Looking For Alaska

~o~

The first time I saw her, I didn't even really see her. Just the giant pile of books she was carrying.

The books... damn, those books. I swear it was always the books. You always saw her with one. Always. I didn't even think she was interested in anything else. At first it started with a new one every week. But then it became a new one almost every day. And soon I don't have a doubt that it'll become every hour.

Why I watched her, I had no idea. Why she caught my eye more than the others, don't ask me. There was just something about her, I guess. Or maybe it was that Kyle fancied her.

She was different. And when I say she was different, she really was. She still is. She wasn't beautiful. She wasn't quiet. She didn't dress up in skimpy clothes. She never wore makeup. She wasn't coy. She didn't flirt.

Because Noelia wasn't like most girls in Seaside.

Noelia was confident. She was loud. She was crazy. She was a book worm. She loved art with a passion. Her brown, curly hair was frizzy and out of control. She wasn't afraid to break a nail. She was the girl who will spend hours updating you on the newest anime episode she watched. She was the girl who wouldn't give up even when she was losing. She was the girl who cried when she was frustrated only to wipe her tears on her hoodie and move on headstrong.

And she laughed. When she laughed, she laughed. And it was real. Not that little giggle that some girls do. Not that fake polite thing. Not her.

When Noelia laughed, she would laugh so hard that the corners of her eyes crinkled and her lids closed so tight where you wonder if she can still see you.

And when Noelia laughed, she clapped her hands together so hard that they'd be tomato red.

When Noelia laughed, she clutched her stomach and tears came out. She'd laugh so hard that it became silent and all you could see her do was slap the table repeatedly until she calmed down.

When Noelia laughed, it was contagious. It made you want to laugh with her even if the joke wasn't funny. It was as if a whole new world of galaxies had opened up. The stars shone brighter. The universe conspired. The Earth stopped spinning. And everything for the first time, everything even in my fucked up world, finally, finally something felt right.

And I swear once you've heard her crazy donkey laugh, you'll do anything to hear it again.

~o~

I've made a lot of mistakes in America.

Mistake 1)

Asking what everybody's obsession with Bill Nye the Science Guy was about in my old school and claiming I've never seen it.

1/2 of my classmates were face palming and yelling HOW COULD YOU HAVE NEVER WATCHED BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY while the other proceeded to chant BILL BILL BILL BILL.

I'm positive that I'm known as the British guy who's never watched America's most popular science show now.

Mistake 2)

Calling 999 and forgetting that the emergency hotline was 911.

Mistake 3)

Forgetting to apply sunscreen and ending up looking like a walking tomato.

Mistake 4)

Referring to erasers as "rubbers."

Mistake 5)

Not realizing that "you alright?" is not a common greeting in America as it is in Liverpool and unintentionally having to sit through a lot of boring life stories or how the person is indeed not alright.

Mistake 6)

Kissing Noelia.

It seems rude to say that kissing her was a mistake but it's true. I didn't mean to. I swear. It's what got this whole thing started. Kissing her lead to another kiss. And another. And another...

We're getting off topic.

She wasn't my first. I'd kissed other girls before. Girls that didn't fill up the crazy meter as much as she did. But I don't think it counts as a kiss if you didn't mean to do it. It wasn't even all that good.

And none of this was my fault. If anything, it was her fault.

Because I didn't kiss Noelia.

She kissed me.

In the late days of November, if I remember correctly. I probably don't remember it correctly. My memory is terrible. But I don't think you can ever forget something like this.

I was already late when I'd been out in the hallway, trying to fight my way to 3rd period through everybody when I collided with somebody else, scattering their stuff over the floor.

"Sorry..." I mumbled, bending down to pick up the mess. There were bare legs in front of me. Girl legs. Not those gorgeous, sexy legs you see in movies where the guy leans down and there's an angelic figure in front of him. Nope. They were just legs. Still nicked with tiny bruises and scars probably from years ago getting hurt as a kid. They were rather dry. And it looked like this girl hadn't shaved in awhile.

Noelia.

There were another pair of legs next to the hers. Probably her boyfriend.

I looked up all the way. But it was impossible to  really see a face with all those books she had in her arms. I wasn't even surprised. Her nose in the book and her head in the clouds–that's Noelia for you. No wonder we bumped into each other. She probably couldn't see a thing over all those novels.

She said a quick apology and unsteadily tried to put her books down on the ground. Unsuccessfully might I add. The book tower toppled over too. Which didn't help my situation of trying to get to class as soon as possible.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she gasped, slapping her forehead so hard I thought it might invoke a concussion. "I'm such a klutz. Geez."

"No. No. You're fine. It's fine." It really wasn't. But she seemed so distressed by it, that it just felt like my job to reassure her.

"Noelia."

"Gesundheit." I replied, placing another book back onto the pile.

She rolled her eyes. "No. My name. It's Noelia."

I knew exactly who she was. Noelia.

She was far from beautiful. She wasn't ugly of course. But if any of you are imagining a perfect, gorgeous teenage girl who was seductive without even trying, then stop. Because that's not Noelia.

I know, I wanted to say. I know exactly who you are. I know that when you read, sometimes you'll wrinkle your nose and squeal and have to put your head down, as if you're trying to soak up the pages. I know that you're the girl who prefers hoodies over crop tops. The one who won't just sing the lyrics to a song and be all cute, because you're the one who sings lyrics, backup vocals, and guitar riffs all while head banging. I know. You're Noelia. I know.

But I couldn't say that.
That's creepy.

So instead I gritted my teeth and said, "Jun."

She smiled and shook it. Her boyfriend was giving me the stank eye. Come to think of it, he was practically hovering over me the entire time. Noelia seemed to notice it too. "You can go now, Vante." She spat acidly, averting her eyes from his.

"Lia—"

"DeVante. Get your Afro out of my business. We'll talk later."

I snickered and ignored the glare the boyfriend (who now had a name) was giving me. This Vante guy either didn't speak English very well or happened to be excessively stubborn because didn't budge an inch. It wasn't any of my business but I couldn't help but want to know what his deal was.

Noelia stood up while I followed suit and she smiled, stacking her gigantic books up in her skinny arms. It wasn't a perfect smile. But her teeth were straight and her canines were a little pointier then the average ones. She looked like a little monster.

I turned my head away from her and mumbled something incoherent under my breath.

"Thank you," I heard her say.

I turned back to face her.

And her lips were on mine.

I don't know what she told you but here's the truth in plain black and white: I was the kissee here and not the kisser. That's how it happened.

We pick up her books. We stand up. I turn my head for a minute. And as soon as I turn it back, my lips are smushed against hers. Simple. Not the fault of yours truly here at all.

My eyes widened. "What was that for?"

From the looks of it, she seemed just as surprised as I was. "I... you... no. No, I didn't mean—" Her books dropped on the floor again but neither of us cared. I stared at her. She stared at me. DeVante stared at the both of us.

Seriously, why was he still here?

She took a slow step back. Then another. And another. Until she turned her back on me and ran. That annoying other guy gave me a look that implied "I'll kill you later" and dashed after her.

I touched my lips and frowned. Out of all the kisses that I've had in my lifetime, this one definitely was made to disappoint.

I kissed her. No, she kissed me.

The hallways were empty. I was alone.

BILL BILL BILL BI-BI-BI BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY!! *proceeds to air guitar and yell the rest of the lyrics* I remember seeing a Bill Nye post on tumblr about a British guy who did the exact same thing and I thought it was so funny, that I put it in just for the heck of it. How I love tumblr.

I think Jun's opinion of the kiss is a little mixed.

This chapter wasn't as interesting as I hoped it'd be but I promise I'll build up the plot. I guess I was so eager to post it that I didn't work on it very thoroughly. I'll be sure to edit. And bare with me, I promise it'll get better.

And for any of you English folk out there, I have no clue about what to do when it comes to slang. I figured that when Jun was still in Liverpool that he'd just watch a lot of American television and pick up on our slang so that's how he writes his part of the story. Make sense? I should probably brush up on my British slang.

And drink more tea.

Nah. Just kidding.
I do like tea though.

*sips tea dramatically with pinky up* Cheerio!

Geez, I'm such a weirdo.

Goldenetti