Can your lips get a burn just from the warmth of your own breath?

I wonder as I stand here, glancing towards the living room, feeling my heart ticking under my shirt. I decide that my hands have been wobbling on the wooden balustrade for long enough. I'm going down these stairs.

It would help if my mum, Lia, kept her voice down. Her acute tone resounds from the kitchen and travels all the way up to the top of the stairs where I'm standing.

Not even Mrs. Albert from 8th grade --whose hoarse voice used to echo two classrooms away from where she was teaching-- was known to be this loud.

I'm not sure if Lia is trying to teach basic math to Soni or if she wants to wake up the entire neighborhood. Maybe summon the spirits?

I take a deep breath for the third time and wrap my knuckles into a fist to squeeze some courage out of my system.

Okay, Jay, the plan is simple : I go down these stairs, like nothing is happening, then find a way to leave the house while Lia is not looking.

Whenever she isn't busy flipping pages of newspapers in search of a job, the only two things mum can award her attention to are Soni and the TV. Why would she notice me now?

Well, I'm grounded. That's why. All because I was stupid enough not to take off the clipping earring I wore at the party of the school's basketball team last Friday night.

It's ridiculous when you consider that I refused every offer to drink alcohol, thinking that my breath would be what Lia would inspect when I got home.

That night, when she slammed the door of my room behind her, I swore I would never speak to her again. A bit too loud, I have to admit.

She understood soon enough and is giving me the same silent treatment now:

no waking me up in the morning if I'm late to school anymore,

no calling me for dinner at night,

nor asking me about my grades.

Great!

It's been a week she didn't come near my room and we're even getting used to taking turns at talking to Soni during dinner, as awkward as it was at first.

Sometimes I feel bad for my little sister Soni. But my mom. . . I think I'm starting to hate her.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and can't help biting my lower lip as I read Jord's text from that afternoon. It was still hard to believe he had asked me on a date. Just the two of us at the Sweet-T tonight.

Jord caught me off guard when he complimented my earring at the party last week. That alone couldn't get my hopes up, but after a sip of beer he asked if I was into guys.

I should have put two and two together then, but I opted to mutter an uninterested 'yeah'.

I didn't want it to be too obvious that I wanted to kiss him every time his Nike shoes squeaked on the hallways of the school, his dimples cornering his big smile and a ball trapped between his arm and his waist. Such a natural, like he was born doing that.

On top of that, Jord is the only basketball player on earth who is a member of a poetry club. Who else could pull that off?

I'm sorry, mum. I know I'm grounded but I have a date tonight.

The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced the fact he even noticed me at the party --let alone ask for my number then ask me on a date -- was a miracle. So, whoever is responsible for this, please teleport me out of this house.

I groan at myself as I realize I have my eyes turned up to the ceiling. As if God really cared about any of this.

Mum's voice downstairs is still too loud, and I have yet to move an inch if I want to get my kiss tonight. My first kiss.

I watch my steps as I begin trekking down the stairs. I catch a glimpse of the old rug on the armchair close to the TV, pressing my thumb on the handrail.

Just when I'm brave enough to go further, my feet slip along the steps, like there's oil under my shoes. I swipe my hands to catch the rail. I fail.

My eyes are pressed shut. I'm going down, only hoping the wood won't be so hard on my ass.

My back bumps on the wood as I slant downwards, and I land above the small red carpet at the base. My nape rests above the wooden steps. My face is burning, my mind, racing. I can't bring myself to think of an excuse before mum says something.

I open my eyes. But, to my surprise, she's not even looking my way. Weird.

She carries on helping Soni with her schoolwork, squinting her eyes slightly because of the white pendant light casting a white glare on the kitchen table.

She even pulls her dark hair behind her ear, throws a brief glance my way, but carries on as if I didn't exist. Wow.

I know we aren't exactly on friendly terms, but I could have seriously injured myself. I begin standing.

Now that I think about it, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I still feel like I'm gonna puke my heart out if I can't manage to calm down, but everything seems to be in place.

Mum walks to the sink wearing a smile that seems a bit plastic to me while Soni shoves her books inside her school bag.

She's taking the 'don't ever talk to me again' too seriously. And now she's dragging Soni into this too.

I can only stand there awkwardly, like a dog busted ruining furniture, then I fake a limp walk to the armchair, quickly glancing at the partially open door. I'd be scolded if I was the one keeping the door open while the heat was on.

I mutter a hi to Soni as I let myself fall buttocks-first on the couch. I grab the remote control, then glance back at her with a pout because she was ignoring me. Seriously, mum didn't need to include her into this.

Behind me, the door creaks open, sending a cold whiff inside the house that begins freezing my neck. Just when I turn to see, the door bangs open, hitting the wall and making me jump on my seat.

The hell! I glance at Lia wide-eyed, holding my breath. It's baffling that she just carries on washing vegetables in the sink, almost like she's gone blind and deaf all at once.

Wait. It makes sense now: Jord's text, me falling down the stairs without breaking my neck (with the kind of luck I usually have), and now this... This has to be a dream.

I re-read Jord's text smiling nervously as I mentally warm up my feet. I've wanted this since the beginning of the school year. Of course, I'm not missing a date with him even if it's just a dream.

I bolt to the door and slam it behind me. I throw glances behind my back, but there's no sign of Lia nor Soni, even as I open the entrance gate and push my bicycle to the street.

When I'm on my bicycle, all I can think of is Jord's short hair cut squarely along his forehead, his voluminous smile and chocolate skin that matched his brown eyes so well. A pretty brown that turned orange when he squinted against the sunlight. Unlike my dark brown ones, typical of most kids of Asian descent.

A strange rush blows from my belly as I pedal down the street number 10. Still, I can't help my smile as I envision myself taking street 15 at the intersection, then pedaling past Alice's Bakery before entering the street of the bars and shops, where the Sweet-T is located.

It's one of the few places to go to on Friday night and weekends in all Belfort. The Sweet, as we call it. They have all possible types of tea you can imagine: from bubbly Japanese to fancy Taylors of Harrogate Yorkshire Red. Not that I've ever ordered the latter.

I took so long to go down those stairs that at this point Jord probably already had two cups or more. Just the mere thought of him waiting for me peaks my rush. And I need to remind myself to breathe against the cool air as I push harder on the pedals.

As I make a turn on the roundabout and engage street number 15, another cyclist starts a series of sharp and annoying dingles behind me. Before I'm able to turn to look, his yellow helmeted head bolts ahead, his bicycle flashing red and blue as he pedals farther along the street. Fucking ass.

The fright forces me to stop for a minute to catch my breath before I can get back on the road.

I arrive at the Sweet-T out of breath and I run straight to the entry, check myself in the glass of the door briefly then push it open.

Being a professional airhead, I only now remember that I didn't bring any money with me. I pat my pockets anyway while scanning the whole coffee shop to find Jord, but I don't find a penny.

Blue neon lights run across the entire ceiling and the walls are covered with drawings of tropical things on a pink background. I scan the entire shop once, twice...my money isn't the only thing missing.

Jord isn't here.