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that her eyes were violet.
Like amethyst.

"I'm Grace," she said, and took my hand.

I paused, shocked. "Gracie LeRue?"

Her smile faltered. "Hart Meyor."

_

We left the party together, and walked slowly toward her house her Aunt's house, as her parents had apparently passed away and talked. I realized that I hadn't just talked to a girl in a long time. The subject shifted to that day by the lake.

"Do you still regret that I stole your first kiss?"

"No."

"Would you mind if I did it again?"

"Not at all." A smile played on her lips, enticing in its innocence.

I stopped walking and pulled her close to me, letting my fingers tangle in her long hair. She lifted her chin and closed her eyes, waiting. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against hers in a light caress, so much more tender than the one when we were kids.

_

Within a week, we were dating, and it was a big deal that I appeared to have a steady girlfriend. We stayed together for several months, then somehow drifted apart (though admittedly, that might have something to do with the fact that she had caught me making out with other girls several times hey, I had a reputation to keep).

She gave the necklace I had given her back, a simple gold chain with a small amethyst hanging from it, and walked away. I could tell she was trying not to cry as she did. I've always regretted it.

"It's not fair to me, Hart."

"I know."

Learn more about this author, Christina Faith.
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