This is from a new story, maybe 1,000 words written so far.
Izzy and Matt slouched against her locker, him leaning on her, pressing her arms at her sides, kissing her hard enough that they were the only ones in the hallway or maybe the school. Izzy’s torso crumpled in but she didn’t care—Matt’s weight rebuilt her, and if her hair got messed up, so much the better. It gave her that loved/smeared look she wore like a crown. Matt’s girlfriend. Matt’s skin and lips and hair and legs.
The bell rang and they unhooked from each other.