[Isaac had been minding his own buisness, clearly lost in thought. It surprised him when he was pushed up against the wall, a grunt escaping his lips. Before the teen could say anything, he was being pulled into a kiss, something he honestly didn’t mind. His cheeks burned with a dark red, his body frozen. Isaac was about to kiss back when she pulled away, causing him to stumble forward.]
“ — H-hey…! We weren’t finished!”
She slows her step, doesn’t turn. It had been a dare, just a stupid dare — “well go kiss him then, I dare you, see what happens” — and she doesn’t believe what he says. Except this is /her/; she has to believe him. Because he means it.
So she turns back, head high. Takes a step back toward him. “Weren’t finished?” she says, teasing, hiding her nerves, pretending with all her might that she knows how to flirt, doesn’t want to throw herself at him — hasn’t wanted that for months, since she saw him at the championship lacrosse game.
“Did you want something more?”