“Dannon Barone, you are forbidden to come to church with me ever again!”

Saying that that was the worst church session ever would be a complete understatement.  All of the teenage girls—and frankly, there were a lot—swarmed around him like bees to a flower, offering to do very not Christian-like things to him.  Dannon stuck close to me when we went down to the teen room (we learned in a separate classroom from the others), but that only seemed to make the girls try harder.  Apparently, even though it was pretty damn obvious that Dannon wasn’t interested, they had to crawl all over him and coo gooey things into his ear.  Long story short?  I was fuming through the whole service.

Was I jealous? 

Maybe.

Yeah, I would admit it.  I wanted to punch all the girls in the face.  And it wasn’t just because they were disrespecting the teacher, Riley. 

“Well, I was having a lovely time,” Dannon drawled sarcastically, opening the passenger door for me.

I slipped inside, shooting him a disbelieving glare.  “Seriously?  You enjoy people pining over you?”

Dannon chuckled, shutting the passenger door and walking around the front of the car.  I watched him through narrowed slits, so irritated that I could scream.  I was disgusted with every single girl in my class.  How was that even allowed in church?  It shouldn’t have been.  They were a lot of perverts, they were!

I blinked as Dannon pried open his door and plopped inside.  I willed myself to calm down, not to bring out my annoyance on him.  It wasn’t his fault that the girls in my church were complete idiots and made me want to rip my hair out.  Though, maybe it was.  You know, he was the one who decided to be stunningly attractive.

Wait.  Did I just call Dannon stunningly attractive?

Dammit.  I did.

“No,” Dannon said teasingly, pulling me—thankfully—out of my reverie, “I enjoyed seeing you jealous like that.”

“You enjoy seeing people jealous?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, not at all feeling the need to deny the obvious truth.  “That’s kind of sadistic, don’t you think?”

Dannon pulled out of the parking lot, shaking his head solemnly as a group of girls giggled and waved to him.  “Do you think if I quit football they’d stop looking at me like that?” he muttered, sounding completely disturbed.

I scoffed, leaning back in my seat.  “Dude, they’ve always looked at you like that.  When you came to return the apple to me, I thought they were going to rip Kyla and me to shreds.”

“Oh.  Well, that’s awkward.”

I smiled, not saying anything.  I stared out the car window, not at all recognizing where we were going.  After church my family and I would always turn the opposite way.  At first I was confused—I mean, my house was the other way—but then I remembered that we were going to Dannon’s house.  My sour mood immediately turned alight with excitement.  I was finally going to meet Dannon’s dad!  Mystery Man was going to become known!

“So, what’s your dad’s name?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.

“I’m sure he’s going to introduce himself,” Dannon mused, glancing at me from the corner of his eye with a small smile pricked on the tips of his lips, “but his name is Tom.”

Tom and Dannon.  Ha!  That didn’t really flow at all.  You’re not making a couple name, Bri, I thought, mentally shaking my head, so it doesn’t really matter if it flows or not.

I was such an idiot.

“Tom,” I murmured, testing the name out on my tongue.  Was I even going to regard him as Tom?  Or would he prefer Mr. Barone?  Or even just Dannon’s dad?  Oh my gosh.  I was so overthinking this!  This was insane.

“Yes, Tom,” Dannon said, nodding and grinning at the same time.  He looked away from the road for a moment, at me.  “Why do you look so nervous yet excited at the same time?”

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to slap him.  “I do not look nervous.”

“Oh, you can see yourself now?” Dannon countered, smiling.

I shook my head slightly, refusing to argue that.  Whatever I said would come out completely idiotic, and I didn’t feel like dealing with that.  So, instead, I decided to ask some more questions.  Because that was so much better.  “So,” I began, keeping my eyes on Dannon as he drove, “how far until we reach the Barone residence?”

Dannon chuckled, turning down a dirt pathway.  “Not far.  Just down this road and then one more turn.”

You know, I thought that meant in like two seconds we would be there.  But no.  Dannon didn’t include the fact that the dirt road was long.  Like, super long.  Seriously, for like five minutes there was nothing but trees, trees, and more trees!  I felt like we were in a warped movie where things popped out of the forests and attacked some lonesome car in the middle of nowhere.  Damn, I watched too many movies—weird movies.

Finally, we turned onto another dirt road.  I sat up in my seat, ready to get a look at Dannon’s house.  I wondered how big it was.  Obviously not as big as Aunt Jill’s.  His eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of their sockets when he saw how gigantic it was.  Maybe it was about the size of my house?  I sighed.  I hated not knowing things.  A lot.

A house finally came into view.  I turned and looked at Dannon, who nodded.  My head whipped back to his house.  Let’s just say, I did not expect what I saw.

His house was a mobile home.  I had nothing against mobile homes, I really didn’t.  I just didn’t expect it!  It was a double-wide home, and it was a pale yellow color.  The window shutters were a pale orange, going along nicely with the small gardens in the front.  The porch was wooden, its color reminding me of milk chocolate.  One glance around the yard and I realized that it was about the size of mine—around twenty feet long. 

“Surprised?”

At the sound of Dannon’s voice I turned and smiled.  “Yeah, but not disappointed.”

Dannon seemed to like this answer because he smiled back.  But, on the other hand, he smiled even when he was upset.  Most of the time, anyway.

We parked in the little driveway next to the house and stepped outside.  I stretched my arms out, watching as Dannon trotted toward me.  He smiled.  And then suddenly he grabbed my wrist lightly, pulling me toward the house.  He seemed to have gotten into the habit of pulling me places.  I allowed him to, though, because frankly?  I didn’t mind.

“Dad, we’re home!” Dannon called, opening the front door.  He turned, smiling at me.  “You can put your shoes here.”

He pointed to a small rectangular mat with a pair of penny-loafers placed on top of it.  I guessed that they were his father’s shoes.  I kicked my Converse off, scooting them together neatly with the tip of my toe.  Dannon chuckled, kicking his shoes off not-so-neatly.  I stared at his discarded shoes blankly, kind of tempted to fix them neatly.  I didn’t really know where the urge came from.  But it was there.

Suddenly Dannon cut off any further thoughts about his shoes, grabbing my wrist again and pulling me toward the living room.  I peered around as we moved, excited to see the house.  The inside was welcoming.  Wide, painted with pale, pretty colors.  It was warm, loving.

The living room was cute.  There was a plump, maroon recliner kiddy-cornered in the far side of the room which was aimed toward the flat screen television on the opposite wall.  There was a couch placed next to it.  All over the pale blue walls were pictures of Dannon and his parents.  The ones with his mother were when Dannon was an infant.  He hadn’t really changed much since he was baby.  Just the sharpness of his chin and the darkness of his hair.  Even as a baby he was all smiles, his eyes crinkled in delight.

Sitting on the couch was Dannon’s dad.  He looked younger than I’d imagined, though not by much.  His hair was gray, covering the top of his head and the sides of his face—all the way until it reached the bottom of his chin.  He was a little plump in the stomach area, but not extensively so.  As his eyes were trained on the TV, he was clad in a red T-shirt and jeans with white anklets covering his feet.  All in all?  He kind of reminded me of Santa Claus.

“Dad,” Dannon called again, his voice rising a little so his father would hear him.

Dannon’s dad looked over then, his eyes wide with surprise.  “Oh, hey guys!” he exclaimed, his voice deep—deeper than I expected.  He stood up, trotting over to us with his hands in his pockets.  He cast his gaze in my direction, a polite smile on his face.  “And who might this young lady be?”

I held out my hand instinctively, smiling a small smile.  “I’m Brianne,” I introduced.

“Tom,” Dannon’s dad replied, sliding his hand into mine.  We shook and then let go, our hands falling back to my sides.  “And I would prefer to be referred as that.  Not Mr. Barone.  He’s my father.”

I smiled and nodded.  I averted my gaze to the pictures on the walls.  My eyebrows rose as I realized that Dannon had inherited most of his looks from his mother.  The dark, wavy locks of hair and the beautiful blue eyes.  I blinked, hard, slightly disturbed that I’d just referred to Dannon’s eyes as beautiful.  Well, they were. . . .

“So, I hear you bonked this kid on the head with an apple.”

My head whipped back to face Tom.  I froze, my teeth digging into my lip.  Was I in trouble?  I couldn’t really guess from the look on Tom’s face—I mean it was blank.  But, when he cracked a smile, I guessed that I wasn’t.  “Um, yeah,” I mumbled, rubbing my arm awkwardly.

Tom laughed merrily, clutching his stomach.  “Hon, there’s no need to be frightened,” he assured me.  He sighed lightly.  “Dannon and I had a good laugh about it.”

I glanced sideways at Dannon, who smiled at me.  I couldn’t help but smile back.  “Yeah,” I said, more confident this time, “my friend kind of forced me to do it.”

“And you listened?”  Tom put his hands on his hips, shaking his head and smiling at the same time.  It seemed that Dannon had inherited his constant smiles from him. 

“That’s the first thing everyone says!” I laughed, feeling more at ease now.  Why I’d felt nervous in the first place, I wasn’t sure.   Tom wasn’t at all intimidating, nor was the house.  Everything and everyone was open and friendly.  Maybe I just hated meeting new people that much.

Tom laughed, his eyes full of amusement.  “Is there a reason why your friend wanted you to throw an apple across the cafeteria?”

Acting nonchalant, I shrugged.  There was no way that I was telling him that Kyla was pretty much setting Dannon and me up.  Especially not with Dannon right there.  “She just does things like that.”

Tom smiled, turning and trotting back to the couch.  “Well, I won’t keep you two,” he mused, looking between us.  “Go do your project!”

I followed Dannon out of the living room and down the hall.  The hall, like the living room, was filled with pictures.  It shocked me that Dannon’s parents could have so many pictures when they only had one child.  On the other hand, if his parents were fond of photography, it was definitely possible.

“My mom loved photography,” Dannon said, answering my unasked question.  “My dad does too, but not as much.”

I nodded, my head turning all around to try and catch a glimpse of every single picture as we passed.  “Were all of these taken by your mom?” I asked, awed that someone would take the time to take this many pictures.  I wondered if Dannon had memories of every single photograph, every single event captured from time. 

“Most of them,” Dannon said softly, a faint smile on his face.

Dannon opened his bedroom door and stepped inside.  I peaked in, suddenly self-conscious.  Why, I didn’t really know.  I’d never really been self-conscious around Dannon, not even when we first met.  Terrified?  Yes.  Self-conscious?  No.

His room was nice.  There wasn’t really that much emotion to it.  There was a bed with a striped comforter on top and two pillows on top of that.  There wasn’t a television set anywhere, but there was a computer on a mahogany desk beside his bed.  And, to top it all off, his walls were white.  White.  How boring!

“You should paint the walls,” I announced, plopping onto his bed.  “Just sayin’.”

Dannon grinned, sitting down next to me.  “I’ll get right on that.”

I sighed, pushing myself back against the wall.  Dannon turned, crisscrossing his legs as he faced me.  I smiled at him before saying, “I have an idea for the project, and it’s not all video-taping.  So you’re going to have to deal with a stupid questionnaire with stupid questions.”

Dannon cocked an eyebrow.  “Okay,” he said slowly, uncrossing his legs and flopping beside me.

I continued to smile.  “Do you have any paper and a pencil?”

Dannon shot me a play-scowl before heaving himself up from his bed—very dramatically, might I add—and grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil from the top of his desk.  He plopped back down beside me, placing the objects in my lap.  “Need anything else?” he asked.

I shook my head, beginning to jot the word “favorites” down in a messy scrawl onto the paper.  My plan was simple: put footage and then titles between the clips.  It was kind of like a movie trailer . . . but for a single person.  Ha!  Dannon being in a movie where he was the only actor was a funny thought.

“Okay,” I began, bringing a hand through my hair, “so, what’s your favorite color?”

Dannon pondered the thought for a moment before answering.  “Silver,” he said with a nod. 

I raised an eyebrow before writing his answer down.  “Favorite band?”

“Switchfoot.”

The questioning went on like that for a while.  I found out a lot of new things about Dannon because of this.  Apparently he was afraid of spiders, lizards, and any other assorted creepy crawly.  Not only that, but he hated getting dirty in any way.  How he tolerated football when he hated getting dirty, I wasn’t quite sure.  But, whatever.  Dannon was Dannon.

“Any secrets?” I asked, wriggling my eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dannon replied, wriggling his eyebrows back.

I laughed softly, shaking my head.  “Yeah-huh.”  I paused for a moment, trying to think of another question.  “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

I expected him to say something like, “Play football,” or “Play video games.”  You know, boy stuff.  But he didn’t say that.  He said something that I did not expect.  I didn’t expect it at all.  “Hanging out with you,” he confessed softly.

My eyes met his and we both smiled.  Wow, I was smiling a lot today.  I kinda felt weird, too.  “That is unbelievably corny,” I said, smiling as I jotted his answer down onto the paper.  I changed the answer to “hanging out with friends,” but it was still the same basic principle.

“Ah, but it made you smile.”

I cast Dannon a side-glance to see him grinning at me.  He’d expected me to do that, I realized.  “Yeah-huh,” I muttered, writing down the next question.  I looked up at him, my lips tilting into a smile.  “What’s your least favorite thing to do?”

“Sleep.”

I stared at him blankly.  What an odd thing to say.  Who hated sleep?  I, for one, loved sleep.  I loved dreaming of really weird things and then laughing about it with loved ones the next day.  One time I dreamed that I was a piece of toast being put into a marshmallow toaster.  I ate the marshmallows and was proclaimed the kitchen’s hero.

Yep, weird dream, right?

“Sleep?” My eyebrows raised, I shook my head at him.  “Not only is sleep amazing, but you happen to sleep a lot.”

Dannon shrugged.  “I don’t like going to sleep.”

I sighed, not at all understanding but writing down his answer anyway.  “You never cease to surprise me,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Dannon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.  “How many questions are left?” he whined, jutting his lips out into a pout.

I dropped the paper and pencil onto my lap, sighing.  “Well, since I can’t think of anymore, none.”

Dannon grinned, letting his head fall back on the wall for a moment before glancing at me.  “My turn,” he said simply.

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest.  Why did he need to question me the same way?  Was he planning on stealing my idea?  That was okay and everything, but we couldn’t just go into the classroom with identical projects.  “Why?” I asked slowly, continuing to cock an eyebrow. 

Dannon rolled his eyes playfully, taking the pencil and paper from my lap.  I let out a sound of disapproval as he did, but he simply smiled, slapping the paper onto his lap.  “Okay, Miss Nichols,” he said teasingly, “let’s learn something about you.”

I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall.  I stared up at the ceiling, mentally preparing myself to answer the stupid questions he was probably about to come up with.  Why did I have a feeling I wasn’t going to know the answer to any of them?  “Whatever,” I said softly, flicking a glance in his direction before turning my attention back to the ceiling.  “Let’s get this over with.”

In the end, Dannon’s questions weren’t that creative.  In fact, they were the exact same questions that I asked.  I knew that he was just looking off from the questions I gave him, but still.  They couldn’t have thought of some on his own?  Nah, of course not.  Nonetheless, I answered his questions with minimal amount of sarcasm.  Which, surprisingly, was a lot less than you would have thought.

“How long does our presentation have to be?” I inquired as Dannon set the paper and pencil down beside him, finally done questioning me.

“I dunno.”  Dannon tossed me a smile.  “I think we should try to go for at least two minutes.”

I nodded slightly, looking away from the ceiling.  “Okay.”

It was quiet for a moment.  Neither of us was enticed to start working again, and neither of us really wanted to bring the topic back up.  It seemed like a break was going to come really soon. 

And, as though Dannon could read my mind, he said, “I think we should take a break.”

I grinned.  “I think that’s a great idea.”

| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

“You have a ping pong table in the middle of your yard, why?”

I stood at the edge of the random ping pong table sitting smack in the middle of Dannon’s backyard, grabbing onto the edge.  Dannon told me to stand there, otherwise I wouldn’t have.  What confused me even more—if that was even possible—was the pyramid of cups laid out in front of each side of the ping pong table.  On Dannon’s side of the table there was a jug of fruit punch waiting to be opened.  I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure out what was going on.

“For occasions like this,” Dannon answered.  He began pouring fruit punch into the assorted cups.  I watched him, uncomprehending.  “We’re going to play beer-pong, but with fruit punch.”

I cocked an eyebrow.  “You haven’t done it with actual beer, have you?”

Dannon pinched his face together in disgust.  “Alcohol is disgusting.  I don’t plan on consuming a single drop in my lifetime.”

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Tom trotting toward us, my camera in his hands.  “I thought we were taking a break,” I murmured, shooting a confused look at Dannon.  Our conversation about actual beer-pong was already forgotten.

Dannon smiled.  “The best footage comes from when we’re on break, am I right?”

He had a point there.  I mean, the whole point was to capture the real us.  What better way than to tape us while we were doing what we always did: fool around?  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, my eyes scanning the cups again.  “Now, how exactly do we play?”

Dannon’s hands swept over the cups.  “You toss a ping pong ball into the cups.  If you get one inside the cup, the person has to drink the entire contents in the cup.  The person with the last cup wins.”

Whether that was the official way to play, I didn’t know.  But I didn’t really care.  This way seemed kind of fun.  “If I puke, it’s going to be on you,” I warned, getting in a stance I found appropriate.  “You go first.”

Either Dannon had a crap-load of practice, or I just sucked.  All I knew was that I was drinking a lot more fruit punch than he was.  In fact, so far, he’d only had to drink two cups.  Two.  And me?  I had two left.  I think it was pretty damn obvious who was going to win.  But was that really surprising?  No, I didn’t think so.  I mean, I royally sucked at every single game in history.

“You seem to lack expertise in these sort of things,” Tom mused, aiming the camera at me.  I totally forgot he was video-taping us.  Great.  My suckiness was being taped for everyone to see. 

“I know!” I exclaimed, shaking my head.  “You’re about the thousandth person to tell me that.”

“She knows a thousand people?” Tom gasped dramatically.  “You’re friends with someone popular, Dannon.”

I decided not to mention that, in reality, Dannon was the one that was popular.  Apparently Tom didn’t know how many people fell at Dannon’s feet.  Maybe that was because Dannon was just oblivious to that fact.  I shrugged mentally, not really wanting to brood on the subject.

Dannon chuckled, shaking his head.  “Popular?  Her?  I think not!”

I chucked the ping pong ball aiming for Dannon’s head.  Of course my aim was a little (use the term “a little” loosely now) off, so it bounced off table and fell into the grass.  I scowled, annoyed that the stupid ball betrayed me.  “Rude!”

Dannon smiled, slickly picking up the ping pong ball and tossing it into one of my leftover cups.  I glared down at the ball now covered in red liquid.  How the hell did he even do that anyway?  Staring down at the ball, I imagined it being alive so I could drown it.  I’d laugh as I did it, too.

After plucking the ball from the cup, I lifted the cup from the table and brought it to my mouth.  I gulped it down quickly, ignoring how bloated I felt.  I was seriously going to regret playing this game later.  “I think I should boycott any game known to existence,” I muttered, wiping a stray drop from the corner of my mouth.  “I lose anyway.”

Dannon smiled again, shaking his head.  “So pessimistic.”

I ignored his comment as I tossed the ball as gracefully as I could toward Dannon’s side of the table.  I let out a small whoop as the ball landed into one of his cups, throwing my arms into the air and doing a victory dance.  I clapped and jumped up and down as Dannon downed the drink in one go. 

Despite my efforts, I ended up losing the game.  It was pretty close, actually.  He only had three cups left by the time he finally landed his final shot.  I sighed deeply, gulping down the last cup.  “So close!” I whined, stomping my foot childishly on the ground.

“Yes, so very close,” Dannon mused, stacking the empty cups into a pile.  I copied, and after I finished I handed them to Dannon.  He added them to his pile, smiling as he did.  “Maybe next time.”

Tom chuckled, shutting the camera off and taking a step toward us.  “Nice game.”  He nodded toward the direction of the house.  “Now, why don’t you get some more work done, yeah?”

| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

“We’re not seriously going to work again, are we?”

After the intense not-so-beer-pong game, I was in no mood to start working on the project again.  We had over a month to complete it anyway.  We had plenty of time.  Why get it all done today?  We were together all the time.  It wouldn’t be that hard!

Dannon closed his bedroom door, shaking his head.  “Of course not.”

Simultaneously we plopped onto the bed, almost colliding with each other.  Our shoulders brushed up against each other as we lay back, staring at the ceiling.  I smiled faintly as I stared.  I couldn’t understand why, but I felt . . . peaceful.  Like there was nothing in the world could destroy the utter calmness of this moment.  I glanced at Dannon from the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt it, too.  My eyebrows drew together when I saw that his eyes weren’t on the ceiling at all.  They were on me.  I turned my head, facing him.  “What?” I murmured softly.

Dannon smiled slightly, not saying anything.  Instead he shifted closer to me, his eyes burning through mine.  Our faces were a mere inches apart.  His even breaths blew into my face, moving some of my stray hairs back toward my ears.  I barely noticed, though.  The only thing I could concentrate on was Dannon and his close proximity.

The sudden emotions blew through me like fire, scorching my entire body.  Dannon consumed me.  I became acutely aware of the curves of his cheekbones, strands of hair covering his forehead.  I became aware of how beautiful his eyes were, how much electricity seemed to course through them.  And, with one quick glance at his lips, I noticed how soft they looked.  How . . . kissable.

My eyes met Dannon’s again, my breathing all but stopping.  The want—the need—for him to close the distance between us terrified me.  Yet it excited me at the same time.  Usually I would smack myself for thinking such outrageous thoughts, but today the yearn was too strong.  My eyes flicked to his lips again, wondering if he was planning on closing the distance himself.  If he didn’t, I would.  I wasn’t one to resist temptation.

Once again, as though he read my mind, Dannon began edging hesitantly toward me.  His eyes stayed glued on mine, as though he was waiting for me to object.  But, unlike most the time, I wasn’t going to object.  What are you waiting for? my mind screamed.  Do it already!

Our noses were almost touching now.  In the back of my mind I wondered if this was just some sick joke, that he was going to poke me with his nose and then back away.  But, when I looked into his eyes, I knew that this wasn’t the case at all.  He wanted this as much as I did.

Our lips were about to touch when the door opened.  I closed my eyes, inwardly groaning as Dannon pulled away.  He smiled apologetically—and embarrassedly—before turning to Tom who stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.  He cocked an eyebrow at us, his lips pricked up into an amused smile.  “I see you’re getting a lot of work done in here.”

  | It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

I sat on my bed, turning my phone within my fingertips.  I had rushed straight to my room when Dannon dropped me off, not wanting to face my parents.  They would instantly be able to tell that something had gone on at Dannon’s today, and that something had changed within their daughter.

I bit my lip, my eyes shooting to the ceiling.  A nagging feeling kept poking at me.  I guessed that I couldn’t deny it any longer: I was disappointed that Tom walked in when he did.

Dannon hadn’t continued where we left off while we were in the car.  I was hoping that he would, hoping that I would find out what Dannon’s lips felt like on my own, but nothing happened.  But nothing happened.  All he did was smile, the look still present in his eyes without him acting upon it.  I didn’t know what was holding him back.  I was sure that I was still looking at him the same, too.

Oh my gosh.

I’d turned into a gooey teenager!

I flipped my phone open, clicking open the Text Messenger.  I had to tell Kyla or else she would kill me—or worse.  How would I say it, though?  I couldn’t just say, “I like Dannon!”  No, that was too unlike me and too commonly used.  I sighed, quickly typing the only thing I could think of: The apple was right.