Sometimes a side of Adam that an angel or someone with unjustified faith in humanity might have called demonic took a kind of pleasure in playing with the world in that way.
However, there were parts of growing up that Adam gradually became rather eager about. There were times even during that last eternal summer when he thought about it. And by it, he meant her. And by her, he meant Pepper, who had quickly begun to -- well, sprout. Her red hair had grown longer, she'd grown taller, and what was more, she'd grown unmistakeably curvy.
And so, as determinedly and charmingly as he ever did anything, Adam began to court her (the term his father -- the earthly one -- used for it, not his: he'd seemed somewhat proud in a vague sort of way that Adam was showing signs of growing up to be a decent specimen of humanity).
He could have made her like him, of course. But that, as they said, wasn't cricket, and besides, he had an uncomfortable feeling sometimes that she would know.
Flowers, his starting point, didn't go well.
"I'm not a girly girl," she said, scathingly. Her arms were crossed under her reasonably ample breasts, pushing them up rather in a way that might have been horribly distracting if Adam hadn't already been thoroughly schooled in my face is up here. "Are you giving flowers to Wensley and Brian, too?"
"No," he said, slowly. "But -- "
"You shouldn't discriminate," she said, rather primly.
Once upon a time, he would have sulked for a reasonable length of time -- perhaps even a whole afternoon -- at this slight. But Pepper didn't take well to sulking. She was a champion sulker herself, if she wanted to be, and Adam could almost swear sometimes that the weather responded to her sulks as much as to his.
Offering to do her homework was, of course, similarly snubbed. She could do it herself, thank you very much. And the chocolates were ignored. "I have to eat healthily," she told him, airily. And bit into the huge slice of cake another boy had given her.
Adam bloodied his nose at the next opportunity, just out of principle.
"Maybe you should just kiss her," Wensleydale suggested, when Pepper was very much out of earshot. Adam gave him a look oddly reminiscent of Brian -- which is to say, rather blank.
"She might break my nose if I did that," he protested.
"She might kiss back," Wensley said, with dogged practicality. "Have you ever tried it? Has anyone ever tried it?"
"Because everyone's afraid she'd break their nose."
Wensleydale sighed. Rather exaggeratedly, Adam realised, but he let that slide. "You'll have to kiss her sometime. Might as well be now."
"Hm," Adam said. He was looking thoughtful. Wensleydale sat there waiting for a response for a while, and finally gave another exaggerated sigh and made his exit.
It was a sunny day. Adam had made sure of that. Wensleydale and Brian were out of the way: he hadn't needed to arrange that. They'd both understood from a look and a brief nod that that day was, indeed, the day, and had tactfully -- and in deference to their leader -- withdrawn. So it was just Adam. And Pepper. She had grass in her from laying on her lawn and a redness about her freckled cheeks that suggested a burn and, later, more freckles.
Adam thought she looked perfectly -- well -- perfect.
"If I do this, are you going to hit me?" he asked. He was quite close to her. Not closer than he'd ever been before, but almost there: pushing the boundary. She blinked.
"If you do what?"
"This," he said, and then kissed her.
First she made a surprised noise. And then there was a movement under his mouth that might've been a smile. And then she bit his lip, quite hard.
And then she kissed him back.
"What took you so long?" she asked, when he pulled back. He found himself doing a very human thing: he was grinning, like an idiot. And his heart was pounding.
"Wanted to do it right," he said, with awkward romanticism. She nipped at his lip again, making him yelp.
"You were scared. Scared I'd hit you."
"Maybe a bit," he admitted. She kissed him again. "Only a little bit," he added, just to save face. She kissed him again. Firmly.