Chapter 8

 The other party guests started showing up at 10 pm. Kris and Mark had gone through the last party preparations, which pretty much only included making snack bowls and putting a beer keg in the kitchen, courtesy of Marks father. The cookies had been eaten by a rather reluctant Kris and a giggling Mark after the whole 'rainbow journal fiasco'.

The music was pumping and the high-schoolers were all starting to feel the buzz of alcohol infiltrating their already weak minds.

Kris had indeed only had one beer before he had felt a tingling sensation in his right foot. That tingling had made him do things he never thought he'd ever do. Ever. His right foot dragged a drunk left foot out on the living room dance floor. And that's how Kris ended up throwing limps about to none other than a Ke$ha song. That was also the reason why he ended up bumping into, yes you've probably already guessed it, Kim.

He apologized like crazy for knocking her to the ground with an enthusiastic hip move. Then he continued to apologize for spilling her drink on herself, resulting in a very sticky, awful-smelling, see-through black mesh top. Apparently she didn't mind but then again, she was even more intoxicated than Kris, sporting a nicely red Asian flush.

A wobbling Asian pair was later seen stumbling their way outside, even though it was cold as . Oh and snowing.

Kim shivered, snuggling herself closer to Kris' chest. Well that was certainly a first.

"Keuriiiiiseu?"

Kris visibly gulped. Not really knowing what was happening but conscious enough to realize it was the first time he held someone. And suddenly Edith Piaf was back.

"Enivrés et heureux." Drunk and happy.   

She let out a light giggle before standing on tip-toes to put her arms around his neck. Kris's heart was performing a drum solo in his chest. Was this it? His first kiss?

He closed his eyes in anticipation before leaning closer until he collided with, her eye? Okay, so closing his eyes was a bad idea. So with eyes wide open, he moved his lips towards hers and this time it was definitely lips he bumped into. His first kiss. Anticipated since forever and now he was finally kissing the girl he liked.

And it was terrible.

They were clearly both inexperienced, not to mention eager, cold and just plain drunk. The kiss was a mix of waaaaaaay too much tongue, rotating like a washing-machine and clashing of marble teeth. Never the less, in their drunk state they didn't care, not even able to tell that it was bad, but luckily they got better as their relationship progressed.