fic: First Kiss
New Britney/Christina fic. MMC-era.
Warning: underage-ness.
Britney lived five minutes away from where you lived with your mom and sister. And you knew a shortcut too, which you always took to her apartment complex. You went through the back doors of your apartment building, over the freshly cut grass and through the gate. Then you would walk past a playground and some pavement, which burned your bare feet in the summer weather, that one time when you didn’t wear shoes. You didn’t bother to put your shoes on, and your mother warned you. She complained how you could step on a nail or something.
When you got to Britney’s, with bare feet and a grin on your face, Lynne immediately handed you a pair of Britney’s shoes. She shook her head and told you exactly what your mother told you five minutes ago. You decided that you didn’t want to hear anymore pesky lectures, so you just slipped the shoes on and smiled at Lynne.
So this time, you were walking across the pavement with your new red shoes that your mother bought you with the monthly Mickey Mouse Club paychecks. When you got to Britney’s apartment building, you remembered that she too, paid for the apartment with her monthly check from MMC. They did pay pretty well, enough for the kids on the show to rent an apartment in Florida for the seasons that they were on MMC.
You didn’t need to call up for them to buzz you in, because some older man held the door open for you when he was leaving. He smiled at you as you ran into the building, and you shyly thanked him.
You press the button and wait patiently for the elevator to come. When it did, you got in and pushed the button for the fifth floor, and again waited patiently when the elevator stopped on the second floor for a girl a few years older than you and her father to get in the elevator.
The elevator finally reached Britney’s floor, and you turned right and sprinted to her room. Room 516.
You knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened and Jamie Lynn stood there, looking up at you.
“Hi, Chriseena.” Jamie Lynn smiled brightly up at you, and stepped back so you could come in.
“Hey Jamie. Where’s Britney?”
Jamie Lynn closed the door behind you and pointed towards the balcony. “She’s outside. There.”
You kick your shoes off onto the doormat, and walk over to the balcony. You open the sliding glass doors, and notice Britney drawing on the ground with a piece of orange chalk. She’s drawing a circle around some other drawings, and stops to look at you.
“Hey Chrissy, come here.”
You sit down beside Britney on the ground, and she touches your arm. Your skin tingles under her hand and you move closer to her.
“I drew a picture of you.”
You look down on the ground and you see yourself. Britney drew you in pink chalk with baby blue chalk as your hair.
You lean against her and giggle. “I don’t have blue hair. Or pink skin.”
Britney smiles and hands you a piece of green chalk. “Draw me.”
You grip the chalk tightly in your little hand and press it to the ground. You draw her face and hair, and then you hand her back the green piece of chalk.
The door suddenly opens and Lynne steps out onto the balcony. “Britney! I told you before to not draw on the balcony!” Lynne exclaims.
“I have nowhere else to draw, Mama.” Britney replies, her southern accent drawling out.
“Outside on the pavement. Just not here, honey.” Lynne sighs and then looks at you. “Oh, hi Christina.”
“Hi.”
“Chrissy, let’s go to my room.” Britney grabs your arm and pulls you up with her. She says something to her mom, and then you both go into her room and she closes the door.
“What do you want for your birthday?” You ask her suddenly. Britney’s thirteenth birthday is in ten days.
Britney shrugs her shoulders and sits down on the bed. She’s still grasping your arm, so you sit down beside her.
You touch her hair because you felt like it. It’s soft and delicate, and feels really good underneath your fingertips. You don’t understand why you feel so good touching her, or being close to her, but you don’t really think about it much either.
You’re really touchy-feely and affectionate with Britney, you realize years later, but no one cares because you’re both just little girls. (They do care years later though, which is why you’re forced to stop)
“Chrissy.” Britney’s voice breaks the silence in the room, and you move your hand away from her hair strands.
“Yeah.”
“I want to kiss you.”
You don’t say anything, because you wanted to kiss Britney too. You lean forward towards her and you let her kiss you, feeling her mouth lingering on yours. Your eyes involuntarily close. This is your first kiss.
She pulls back after a minute or so, and you feel her breathe against your face. When you’re fully apart, you open your eyes again. Britney is looking into your eyes. You’ve never seen her eyes this bright before.
When you go home that night, you grab some money out of your piggy bank because you want to stop by the store and look around because you want to get Britney something good for her birthday. You didn’t bother to put your shoes back on after you leave again, because you’re just going around the corner and you don’t think it makes a difference.
You want to get Britney something really, really wonderful, and you don’t completely understand why you want it to be that wonderful. You think she deserves something really good, because she made you feel really good. You realize later that maybe you should get her something that isn’t material-like, because nothing material-like is as good enough of a present as what you want to get her.
The sun is setting now, and you know that you should get home now before your mother gets worried. You walk out of the store, letting go of the door and letting it close behind you as you stride down the steps.
You walk home with the sun hitting your back and the purple sky ahead of you, and you listen to your feet hit the pavement. The air is cool and breezy. Your feet are bare, but it’s getting dark, so the pavement doesn’t burn your feet. You walk and you think about Britney, all the way home.
Feedback, please. :-)
Warning: underage-ness.
Britney lived five minutes away from where you lived with your mom and sister. And you knew a shortcut too, which you always took to her apartment complex. You went through the back doors of your apartment building, over the freshly cut grass and through the gate. Then you would walk past a playground and some pavement, which burned your bare feet in the summer weather, that one time when you didn’t wear shoes. You didn’t bother to put your shoes on, and your mother warned you. She complained how you could step on a nail or something.
When you got to Britney’s, with bare feet and a grin on your face, Lynne immediately handed you a pair of Britney’s shoes. She shook her head and told you exactly what your mother told you five minutes ago. You decided that you didn’t want to hear anymore pesky lectures, so you just slipped the shoes on and smiled at Lynne.
So this time, you were walking across the pavement with your new red shoes that your mother bought you with the monthly Mickey Mouse Club paychecks. When you got to Britney’s apartment building, you remembered that she too, paid for the apartment with her monthly check from MMC. They did pay pretty well, enough for the kids on the show to rent an apartment in Florida for the seasons that they were on MMC.
You didn’t need to call up for them to buzz you in, because some older man held the door open for you when he was leaving. He smiled at you as you ran into the building, and you shyly thanked him.
You press the button and wait patiently for the elevator to come. When it did, you got in and pushed the button for the fifth floor, and again waited patiently when the elevator stopped on the second floor for a girl a few years older than you and her father to get in the elevator.
The elevator finally reached Britney’s floor, and you turned right and sprinted to her room. Room 516.
You knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened and Jamie Lynn stood there, looking up at you.
“Hi, Chriseena.” Jamie Lynn smiled brightly up at you, and stepped back so you could come in.
“Hey Jamie. Where’s Britney?”
Jamie Lynn closed the door behind you and pointed towards the balcony. “She’s outside. There.”
You kick your shoes off onto the doormat, and walk over to the balcony. You open the sliding glass doors, and notice Britney drawing on the ground with a piece of orange chalk. She’s drawing a circle around some other drawings, and stops to look at you.
“Hey Chrissy, come here.”
You sit down beside Britney on the ground, and she touches your arm. Your skin tingles under her hand and you move closer to her.
“I drew a picture of you.”
You look down on the ground and you see yourself. Britney drew you in pink chalk with baby blue chalk as your hair.
You lean against her and giggle. “I don’t have blue hair. Or pink skin.”
Britney smiles and hands you a piece of green chalk. “Draw me.”
You grip the chalk tightly in your little hand and press it to the ground. You draw her face and hair, and then you hand her back the green piece of chalk.
The door suddenly opens and Lynne steps out onto the balcony. “Britney! I told you before to not draw on the balcony!” Lynne exclaims.
“I have nowhere else to draw, Mama.” Britney replies, her southern accent drawling out.
“Outside on the pavement. Just not here, honey.” Lynne sighs and then looks at you. “Oh, hi Christina.”
“Hi.”
“Chrissy, let’s go to my room.” Britney grabs your arm and pulls you up with her. She says something to her mom, and then you both go into her room and she closes the door.
“What do you want for your birthday?” You ask her suddenly. Britney’s thirteenth birthday is in ten days.
Britney shrugs her shoulders and sits down on the bed. She’s still grasping your arm, so you sit down beside her.
You touch her hair because you felt like it. It’s soft and delicate, and feels really good underneath your fingertips. You don’t understand why you feel so good touching her, or being close to her, but you don’t really think about it much either.
You’re really touchy-feely and affectionate with Britney, you realize years later, but no one cares because you’re both just little girls. (They do care years later though, which is why you’re forced to stop)
“Chrissy.” Britney’s voice breaks the silence in the room, and you move your hand away from her hair strands.
“Yeah.”
“I want to kiss you.”
You don’t say anything, because you wanted to kiss Britney too. You lean forward towards her and you let her kiss you, feeling her mouth lingering on yours. Your eyes involuntarily close. This is your first kiss.
She pulls back after a minute or so, and you feel her breathe against your face. When you’re fully apart, you open your eyes again. Britney is looking into your eyes. You’ve never seen her eyes this bright before.
When you go home that night, you grab some money out of your piggy bank because you want to stop by the store and look around because you want to get Britney something good for her birthday. You didn’t bother to put your shoes back on after you leave again, because you’re just going around the corner and you don’t think it makes a difference.
You want to get Britney something really, really wonderful, and you don’t completely understand why you want it to be that wonderful. You think she deserves something really good, because she made you feel really good. You realize later that maybe you should get her something that isn’t material-like, because nothing material-like is as good enough of a present as what you want to get her.
The sun is setting now, and you know that you should get home now before your mother gets worried. You walk out of the store, letting go of the door and letting it close behind you as you stride down the steps.
You walk home with the sun hitting your back and the purple sky ahead of you, and you listen to your feet hit the pavement. The air is cool and breezy. Your feet are bare, but it’s getting dark, so the pavement doesn’t burn your feet. You walk and you think about Britney, all the way home.
Feedback, please. :-)