The Romantic

"You read romance?" I asked Stella when I noticed a book with a cover of a man and woman peeking out from her bookshelf. It was surprising, as I had never considered Stella a romantic. Of every book we had traveled into, she liked adventure and mythical tales, not cliché stories about love. Something about knowing this fact made my heart beat in anticipation. Maybe one day, she would notice me.

"Of course," Stella was staring at an empty ice cream bowl as if she wished it would magically fill up again.

"Why?"

"Why not?" She countered.

"I mean, do you like it?"

"Very much."

"Why?"

"Does there need to be a reason?"

I pulled the book from the shelf and joined her on her bed. She finally looked away from her bowl. "You're impossible."

Stella took the book I was holding and opened it. "You're wondering why we've never explored romance, correct?"

"Maybe…"

"I'll show you."

"Wait, what?" But she had already taken out her pen and grabbed my hand, pulling me with her when the world around us slipped from view.

Stella’s pen brought the book to life. We appeared outside a cozy cottage, with a cobblestone path leading up to the front door. Stella eased toward the window and peered inside. I hung back for a moment before curiosity got the best of me, and I joined her.

The window gave a view to a quaint little room with a fireplace roaring and a couple sitting on the carpet right next to it. There was a dark-haired man with a book in his hand and a woman was sitting across his lap, looking up at him wonderingly.

I tried looking back at Stella, but she caught hold of my chin and turned my head to look at the couple again. The woman was raising her hand to touch her husband's cheek. I watched his lips stop moving and a light sparkle in his eye as he set the book aside to reposition his wife. Soon enough, they were kissing. As the kiss deepened, so did the touching, and I found myself unable to look at the couple.

"Why are you showing me this?" I finally managed.

Stella tore her gaze from the couple to look at me. "It feels strange to watch them."

"We've run away from slimy monsters."

"This is different."

"How so?"

Stella considered her following words before saying, "Romance novels make me feel light and happy and full of joy as if I were the protagonist. Some tear my heart in two and then attempt to repair it with glue.”

I didn't want to interrupt but didn't know what she was talking about either. "What does that have to do with us being here?"

Her eyes didn't leave the couple when she answered. "I don’t travel into romance novels because they make me uncomfortable. There’s a difference between imagining this intimate scene and actually seeing it. Real life doesn’t work as smoothly as in romance novels. Husbands hit their wives and fathers abandon their families, which is why I prefer reading romance than watching it or even living through it. Besides, why would anyone want to see two people kissing anyway?”

“Maybe they wish to be in that position?” I offered.

“Maybe…” Stella made a face. “I just don’t understand why people get so worked out about it. We’re 14! Why are we focusing on getting our first kiss?”

"A first kiss is a pretty big deal."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"No, have you?"

"No." She leaned against the window.

"Have you wanted to?"

She was silent at first. Just as I was about to change the subject, she replied, "I used to wonder how it would be. If the other person would taste like strawberries." She started shuffling her shoes. "But that's not the point of kissing."

"Alright, Smarty Pants, what is the point then?" My teasing made her mouth go up a bit. How I adored that smile.

"It's an intimate thing, and I know people love intimacy these days, but it's also special. You shouldn't just kiss anybody for no reason. You should kiss someone you like, someone you care for." She threw her hands in the air. "It could even be your best friend like the girls used to do back in the day."

"What?"

"You know, like the girls who would walk into school, arm in arm, and would give each other a quick peck on the lips before parting ways. In the movies?"

I stared blankly at her.

"Never mind." She started to turn away but I caught her arm. She looked at me curiously as I pulled her closer.

"Did you read this book already?"

"Yes." She was close enough for me to notice the height difference, though it was barely a couple of inches. I hadn’t had my growth spurt yet, but I could tell I was catching up to her.

"Does this house have a garden?"

"Yes."

I gestured my hand towards the cobbled path and said, "Lead the way."

She led me past a small gate with roses crawling over it and stopped before what seemed to be a pair of gnomes. They stood as if they were frozen in the middle of a dance, with the man’s arms around the lady’s as he lifted her up. Their pointy hats covered most of their graying hair, and despite their miniature size, I could see the outlines of smiles carved on both of their faces. Stella was about to ask why we were there when I spun her into my arms. Her surprised squeal was enough to make me melt, but I was determined to stay put.

"Will you dance with me?"

"You already have me trapped so might as well."

And so we danced. The scent of the roses perfumed the air and the sun made Stella’s curly hair shine a deep red like wine. There was no music, no musicians playing, nothing but the sound of the birds chirping, and it was perfect.

I spun her several times, trying to imitate dancers in movies, and then spun her some more. By the time she had twirled enough times to prove neither of us knew how to dance, she was breathlessly giggling, the sound of her laughter better than any music.

I held her tightly now, trying to ease her dizziness. Before I lost my nerve, I asked, "What if we kiss?" She looked at me confused and I stammered, "You know, like those girls in the movies."

It was a moment too long, but to my relief, her face broke into a grin when she remembered what she had said earlier. "I—Sure," she managed.

I slowed our dancing and brought one hand up from where it rested on her waist to cup her chin. "Is this okay?"

When she nodded, I finally leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't as perfect as books describe, but it was more than enough because I was kissing Stella. Neither of us knew how to kiss anyway, so it didn't go any deeper than an affectionate peck.

When I pulled away, I held her as she opened her eyes again and blinked. We danced for a couple of minutes more, in silence, but a comfortable one.

Later I found myself back in her room, sitting in a chair, as moonlight poured in the room. Stella was on her bed, an arm holding up her side, and I realized she had been staring at me. When she noticed I was awake, she smiled and said, "Get up Sleepyhead. You have to go home."

I knew it was only a dream, but seeing her there, with her brown locks falling in her face, I couldn't help but wish it had actually happened.