PROLOGUE: FIREWORKS

~SOUNDTRACK: Son Lux – Lost it to trying (instrumental)~

It was the 4^th of July and I was drunk under a starry sky painted in fireworks.

In hindsight, I couldn’t say that night, precisely, was the night when it all began. I think the beginning of this story is set a bit ahead, considering you sometimes need some time to stop the war against yourself and what it is you’re feeling. But in hindsight, I could say that night, precisely, is what set things in motion.

One drink.

One crazy idea.

One breathless ‘Let’s do this’.

One tick of the clock as midnight washed over us.

One loud boom and one explosion illuminating the night sky.

One cigarette and a bit too much booze on both ends.

It was the 4^th of July and I was drunk under a starry sky painted in fireworks. But so was he. And we collided hard, just like two sets of fireworks heading towards each other at high speed. The sound of it was deafening. The explosion was blinding. The collision hurt deep inside my bones and set me on fire like nothing before. But oh, we made quite the sight.

It was the 4^th of July and I was drunk under a starry sky painted in fireworks. I recognized the poison on his lips and I still choked on it. And he sipped on the fire in my veins like a fine wine.

It’s the 4^th of July again. And as I close my eyes, painted on the inside of my eyelids I can see unveiling a whole year worth of fireworks, each one brighter than the one before. And you and I, the brightest ones.

 

 

Heyoo! Hi, you guys! Glad to have you here, thrilled you gave this story a chance, even more excited that you’re sticking around for an author’s note and further digging into the story!

Some of you may know me as the author of Light Up My Sky and Smoke and Mirrors, or not. That’s coolio. I just hope I can make you fall in love with these characters as much as I love them. Stick around, y’all! I’ve got great plans!

Lots of love,

xoxo

2: Chapter 1: Fireworks that went off too soon

CHAPTER 1 – FIREWORKS THAT WENT OFF TOO SOON

~SOUNDTRACK: Apollo LTD – What are you waiting for~

~Dawn’s POV, July 4^th, 2016~

It was the 4^th of July and we were drunk.

Well, I was just a bit tipsy, but it’s fair to say Aria was having some trouble walking a straight line. The vodka burned down my throat and I felt it tingling to the tips of my fingers and curling my toes, enough to make me dizzy enough to fall into one of my sister’s reckless traps. But as the first firework lit up the night sky, even I had to admit, this one tiny adventure of hers had paid off.

~Earlier that morning~

“So what are you guys doing tonight for the firework show?”

Mom’s question set fire to a whole firework show of its own in Aria’s eyes and I knew that look all too well. Oh, she had plans. And they involved me. And they weren’t good. I stifled a groan, because whatever she was planning, as everything she usually planned, was either dangerous, illegal or involved alcohol. By the way she smirked at me, I could safely assume it was all three.

“Oh, you know,” she answered mom, without taking her gaze off me; I narrowed my eyes. “This and that.”

Mom glared at my sister, clearly seeing through her attempts to avoid replying. “That wasn’t an answer, Aria.”

Before Aria could defend herself, dad cut in by laughing loudly and shaking his head. Dad was always so irrationally amused by my sister’s stubborn attempts to get herself into trouble. By my guess, it was because he related so much. Dad always told us stories about how much of a troublemaker he’d been in his younger years, and while he and mom were crazy proud of me and what I’d accomplished, I could often tell he missed the thrill of mischief. Well, lucky for him, Aria had plenty of that.

“Leave them be, Leslie,” he turned to mom, still chuckling. “It’s the 4^th of July. They’re entitled to some fun.”

“Yeah, take a chill pill, mom,” Aria stuffed her mouth with some bacon. “We’ll be fine. We’re sticking around for the barbecue and then there’s this tiny party that Mandy is throwing at her place. Just close friends, nothing too nasty. We’ll behave.”

I once again stifled a groan. Mandy was my roommate from the dorm. I rarely saw her during summer when university classes were off, but I was sure she wasn’t throwing any party. If I was awkward and antisocial, Mandy was that and more. It was why we got along so well. Aria was selling our parents a well-polished lie and I couldn’t rat her out, not if I cherished the well-being of my collection of Milky Way and Andromeda sketches and layouts.

Mom sighed, not entirely convinced. “Fine. Just don’t get into any trouble.”

Aria grinned widely at me. Oh, but we were gonna.

We helped mom and dad clean up the table and Aria and I stayed in the kitchen to do the dishes while they headed out to aunt Julia’s house, where they were gonna have the annual 4^th of July barbecue. That we were more or less forced to attend. As soon as they were out of ear shot, I turned to Aria with narrowed eyes. She smiled back at me, eyes wide and acting all innocent, but I wasn’t buying her act. Oh, I saw right through her like thin glass. Aria was young and restless and she loved getting involved in all sorts of crazy and stupid things that got her in trouble. But she enjoyed it all so much. And I got it, to some extent. Sometimes I envied her for it. At 18, she knew how to enjoy life better than I did at 23. I’d always been the quiet, nerdy child. She gave our parents enough headaches for the both of us. It was entertaining to watch and it would’ve been funny, hadn’t it been so exhausting.

“Alright,” I sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Spit it. Where are we going?”

She handed me a plate that she’d finished washing for me to dry, keeping up her innocent charade.

“What are you talking about?” she feigned surprise. “Mandy’s party. Small gathering, absolutely no alcohol. She promised there’s only gonna be soda.”

I glared at her and she tried, she did try so hard to keep a straight face, but she lost it eventually as I patiently waited for her to explain where she was dragging me this time.

“I went too far, didn’t I?” she shook her head, still giggling. “When should I have stopped?”

“At the sodas,” I said seriously. “You lost me at the sodas. Because surely my best friend would’ve thrown a party without me knowing or being invited. Now spit it out. Where are we going?”

Aria rolled her eyes and handed me another plate.

“Okay, so hear me out. It’s the 4^th of July, 2016.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “And last year was the 4^th of July, 2015. Your point being?”

“My point being, Dawn, that we deserve to watch the firework show from V.I.P. seats on this 4^th of July, 2016. We need to have a front row view.”

I cringed, making a mental list of all the ways in which this metaphor of hers could be translated into actual possibilities. A hot-air balloon. A rocket ship. A helicopter. Maybe riding a firework and jumping right off before it exploded? With Aria, everything was possible.

“Chill pill, sis,” Aria winked. “This plan is actually more vanilla than whatever it is you’re thinking. Just bring some booze and I’ll take care of everything.”

 

***

This plan was not vanilla. This plan was dumb. Seriously dumb. Oh, God. Oh, God. I was already picturing mom’s face when she got the phone call asking her to bail us out of jail. Because we were so going to jail for this.

“Aria, this is trespassing,” I whispered to her as she dragged me forward, but she just laughed in my face.

“This is not trespassing,” was her argument. “And why are you whispering? There’s no one here.”

This was her brilliant idea. Watching the midnight firework show from the Kezar Stadium. Why, I asked? She shrugged. Because she felt like it. We’d had some vodka on the way here, enough to make me a bit tipsy and more than enough to make Aria halfway drunk. She couldn’t be talked out of it. She was dead set on seeing the fireworks from the Kezar Stadium, so naturally, next thing I knew, I was jumping fences and sneaking around.

“It’s a freaking stadium,” I raised my voice, hoping she was right and there wouldn’t be anyone around to catch us. Oh, God. I was too young to go to jail. “I’m pretty sure it’s government property. We’re trespassing. And we could go to jail for it.”

Aria groaned and turned to face me, the bottle of vodka a bit shaky in her hand. “Would you relax, Dawn? No one’s going to jail. And trust me, it’s gonna be worth it. Now come on, it should start any minute now.”

When it became clear I couldn’t reason with her, I let the alcohol get the best of me and followed both the tingling in my fingertips and my sister to the middle of the stadium. The small voice of law-obedience and anxiety still nudged at the back of my mind, but I drowned it in some vodka and looked up.

~SOUNDTRACK: Fall Out Boy – Fourth of July~

I nearly gasped and I could practically feel Aria’s satisfied smirk as she was watching me. It was dark enough for me to see the stars clearly and to make out the constellations. I’d been studying astrophysics for quite some time now, and I’d been passionate about astrology for as long as I can remember, but still, standing under the night sky, I always felt as if the universe had new stories to tell.

And then, the darkness exploded into a blast of colored lights as the first fireworks went off and Aria and I fell onto the ground, letting ourselves watch the sky straight into its core as the firework show unraveled before us. And I had to admit, she’d been right. It was quite the view.

Midnight came and went and dozens of fireworks sang along our thumping hearts as they put on a show that felt as if it was for our eyes only. With no one in sight and a full, giant empty stadium for us and nobody else, it surely was easy to believe we were guests of honor into this tiny corner of infinity.

We sipped on vodka until the last firework went off. And as silence crept in, even Aria fell speechless and was afraid to break the peaceful quiet we’d fallen into. It was like we were under a spell that night had covered under a veil. Thin enough to see through, but too thin to allow ample movement. It had been too long since I’d felt as blissful as I did now, with my back against the ground and my face tilted towards the whole universe.

Eventually, I felt Aria shift by my side and I turned my head to find her watching me, a smug expression on her face.

“Told you it was worth it,” she told me, the words a bit slurred from the alcohol, and I chuckled.

“Alright, fine,” I conceded. “You were right.”

Aria huffed. “You always say that. I always make you do the stupid thing, but you don’t wanna do the stupid thing, but then you admit the stupid thing was fun.”

“Yeah, well, I believe in the power of habit.”

“Shut up, nerd,” she rolled her eyes and sat up.

I laughed and followed her example, letting my eyes travel around the stadium to accommodate with the darkness again. After the overwhelming spectacle I’d just witnessed, it felt a bit disappointing to go back to such a mundane view. My eyes went over the bleachers and I caught sight of a blurred shape. I squinted to see better whether or not my eyes were playing tricks on me or not, but I gasped a little when I realized they weren’t.

“Aria,” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Aria, there’s someone else here. In the bleachers.

“Huh? Where?”

She followed my gaze to the bleachers, where a smoke cloud rose up from the tip of a cigarette. It was a guy from what I could distinguish and I could tell he was looking at us. A cold chill went down my spine, worrying about what kind of creep he was, but Aria had no such concerns. To my horror, she raised her hand and waved. I gasped terrified.

“Aria, what are you doing? He could be a murderer.”

She turned to me and rolled her eyes dramatically. “If he’s a murderer, he’s gonna murder us anyway. We’re drunk and I don’t jog. No way we can outrun him. Might as well be polite. Maybe we’ll charm him into, you now, not killing us.”

I widened my eyes at her. Was she serious about this? I was gonna argue about it when I noticed she was standing up and, when I looked back at the stranger in the bleachers, I saw he was making his way towards us. And it occurred to me he may have been worse than a killer. He may have been a cop.

“Aria,” I slapped her arm in panic. “Aria, what if he’s a cop?”

My sister sighed loudly. “Gee, relax, Dawn. He’s not a cop.”

I bit off my tongue against ranting, knowing she was just gonna brush me off, but I started picturing my mom again, getting that phone call about us being in jail for trespassing. Or for being murdered in cold blood on an empty stadium. I couldn’t decide which one was worse.

The stranger got closer and closer until he stopped a few feet away from us and I could make out some of his features. He looked young from a distance, perhaps not much older than me. He was tall and muscular, so if he was indeed a murderer, that worked out well for him. A cigarette rested lazily between his fingers that he eventually put between his lips and inhaled deeply, breathing out the smoke before speaking.

“You’re not allowed to be here,” he said, and it took me by surprise how smooth his voice was. Low, but silky. And because I just couldn’t help myself, the snarky remark rolled off my tongue before I could stop it.

“Neither are you,” I said, then mentally slapped myself for it. I’d totally forgotten about my cop theory. But instead of pulling out some handcuffs and arresting us, he chuckled and stepped forward until I could see him clearly.

I gasped. He was so freaking young and attractive. His hair was ruffled in that way guys’ hair gets when they couldn’t be bothered to do more than run their hands through it and his jaw was square and maybe it was the alcohol doing the talking, but I’d never seen lips that got more distracting as they curved around a cigarette. He was a fine specimen. And definitely not a cop. That only left serial killer on the table.

He whistled as he stopped short in front of us, checking us out from head to toe. First alarm sound. Douche move.

“Not bad,” he mumbled under his breath. “What are two pretty girls like you doing on private property in the middle of the night?”

“None of your concern,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t like the way he was looking at us, like he was picturing us naked. Aria, however, looked completely smitten. He watched him like she wouldn’t have minded devouring him.

“You’re not too bad on the eyes yourself, mate,” she clicked her tongue. “Got a name?”

“Paul,” he answered in one breath, exhaling smoke as his lips curled into a wicked grin and he turned towards me. “And you? What’s your name?”

“Also none of your concern,” I answered him, and he stared back at me like I was the most entertaining thing to have happened to him tonight. We spent a full minute staring each other down and I made up my mind right away about him. He was an arrogant asshole.

“Short tempered, are we?” he tilted his head. “Such a pretty mouth should be put to better use.”

I felt the blush creeping into my cheeks and I cursed my shyness and awkwardness for making me react this way before I could even think about slapping him. Before I could snap at him, Aria stepped forward and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout her,” she said sweetly, and I glared at her, but she ignored me. “She’s cranky, but she’s not usually so rude. I’m Hurricane. Hurricane Lovelace.”

I narrowed my eyes. Hurricane? She was unbelievable. The guy – Paul – snickered at that.

“Hurricane?” he puffed out some more smoke. “Were your parents on crack when they names you?”

Aria huffed. “Must have been. They names her Dawn.”

I elbowed her in the ribs, but she didn’t seem to notice. Why was she giving him an alias for herself, but was so eager to offer my real name? I still wasn’t ruling out the possibility of him being a psycho murderer. Paul turned his attention on me, his eyes intense and lips pursed, ignoring Aria completely. And while she clearly had the hots for him, she didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that crazy Paul had the hots for me. In my peripheral vision, I noticed her biting back laughter and watching us smugly.

“Dawn,” Paul repeated, his head tilted to one side, making him look like a curious puppy. “How unique.”

“Would love to say the same, Paul,” I teased and he let out a low laugh that made the cold night air around us vibrate.

“Such a foul attitude,” he shook his head. “You’re too hot to be so snarky. But that’s cool. I love a challenge.”

I gasped incredulously. I’d been hit on before, but never so shamelessly. He didn’t dance around words, he threw them like darts, aimlessly, hoping one of them hit bull’s eye. But oh, he had no idea just how snarky I could be.

“And you’re too hot to be such a jerk,” I admitted, the alcohol in my system removing every sort of filter I’d ever had. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You just keep hoping you’ll get away with it. Does that smirk of yours always work?”

He took a step closer, and then another one, until he stood so close to me I could smell his cologne and I was surrounded by his smoke cloud. Aria became an abstract shape in the background. And what hit me first was how blue his eyes were, like waves dreaming of being the sky. He truly was too pretty to be such a dick.

“You tell me,” he spoke slowly, looking down at me and shooting me a half grin. “It never failed me before. If you’re feeling lucky, we can head to my car and I can show you just how many wonders my smirk can work before dawn breaks.”

I narrowed my eyes at his bad joke as he put his cigarette to his lips and drawing the smoke into his lungs. I forced myself to stand my ground despite feeling my cheeks burning and I glared at him.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” I made myself say. If he gave a worthless penny, he didn’t show it. Instead, he blew up the smoke right into my face obnoxiously and flooding my lungs.

“That’s too bad.”

I coughed violently and I stepped backwards as he simply laughed at my annoyed expression. Out of all the guys that could’ve taken an interest in me on a night that had been such perfect, it had to be this one. An insufferable full of himself moron who tried to get in my pants. I heard Aria snickering in the background, but I saw red from rage.

“Screw you,” I hissed at him, staggering backwards, and he barked a laugh.

“That was the whole point, baby.”

“Oh, man, I like your style,” Aria had the nerve to congratulate Paul and I groaned loudly, turning on my heels and walking away. My sister chuckled and followed me eventually, but I could still feel Paul’s eyes on my silhouette. I just wanted to go back there and punch his teeth out, but as Aria often liked to point out, my skinny ass could hardly peel a carrot without hurting myself. Punching large dudes was out of question. So I kept walking away, ignoring him.

“See you around, Dawn,” I heard him call after me, amusement obvious in his tone, but I did my best to let it go. If I never saw this Paul guy again, it would still be too soon.

So I shoved drunk Aria into a cab and followed her inside, despising the smell of cigarettes lingering in my hair. The 4^th of July, 2016. I wondered if, one year from now, I would remember the mesmerizing firework show I’d witnessed from such special front row seats, or the one bastard who took the magic of it away.

 

Meet Dawn. Meet Aria. Meet Paul. They’re my babies. Be gentle to them.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it and thanks for giving this a chance. Hope you’ll stick around for more.

Lots of love,

xoxo

3: Chapter 2: Enter charming Paul

CHAPTER 2 – ENTER CHARMING PAUL

~SOUNDTRACK: Foster The People – Pumped up kicks (Tanner Patrick cover)~

~Dawn’s POV, September 2016~

“Hey, remember that guy from the 4^th of July?”

I turned around to glare at Aria. “Obviously.”

“What was his name?” she looked up pensively. “Peter? Paul?”

I rolled my eyes. “Paul. His name was Paul and he was an obnoxious bastard. What about him?”

Aria simply shrugged and resumed folding clothes. “Nothing. I remembered him just now. You should’ve hit that. It’s too bad you didn’t, I would’ve.”

I stopped mid-movement just to glare at my sister. “Are you serious? Aria, he was a jerk.”

“Correction,” she raised a finger at me. “A very hot jerk. Should’ve boned that.”

I shook my head at her, knowing I couldn’t win this one. It had been nearly three months since that night and, in all fairness, I had forgotten about what’s-his-name. I had bigger things to worry about. For instance, Aria was starting college, too, this fall and, since it was her orientation week, we were both moving into the dorm today. I had majored in physics and I was on my way to getting a master in astrology, astrophysics and space science. Yeah, I was the family’s nerd. Aria, on the other hand, had wanted to become a journalist for as long as I could remember. And here she was, at 18, a young woman on the doorstep of her dream, knocking at the doors of what she loved most in the world. Photography.

Before I could open my door and argue more with her on the margins of douchebag Paul, the door to her room burst open and we both turned around to see a tiny figure run inside and into my arms before I even had time to process what was happening. I let out a small yelp and hugged Mandy back.

“Hey, Mandy,” I laughed as she bounced up and down.

“Oh, this was such a long summer,” she pulled back, feigning a pout. “I missed you, D.”

I had missed her, too. A lot. Mandy was my best friend and had been for years. We’d practically grown up together in a small town in Indiana and we’d been heartbroken when my family and I had had to move to San Francisco. But luckily, Mandy followed me in no time, not breaking a sweat before deciding to come here to college as well. We lived together, we shared everything, we told each other everything, and that made Mandy the closest person to me after Aria. And she was a joy to have around. I was short, too, but Mandy was ridiculously tiny. She was like a goofball on two feet, with her pink pixie hair and her never-faltering smile, with her sparkling green eyes and her obnoxious laughter. And while Mandy didn’t seem like much at first sight, she was a supernatural phenomenon. You’d never have guessed it, but she was the best in our class, knocking each and every teacher straight on their asses with her brilliance. I’d always suspected so, but now I knew for a fact Mandy would change the world someday.

“So the little ugly duckling has finally made it to college, huh?” she turned to Aria, and my sister glowered at her.

“Not cool,” she hissed, and Mandy laughed.

“Gorgeous swan, Aria,” Mandy winked at her. “Gorgeous swan.”

“She goes by Hurricane these days,” I muttered under my breath, but smiling to let her know I was teasing. Though was I really? I still had no idea where that had come from. Hurricane?

“Sweet,” Mandy high-fived Aria. “I’m digging it.”

“I’m digging the hair,” Aria complimented, and Mandy ran her fingers through her pink locks. She changed hair color like trees changed with every season and that was a very Mandy thing to do. Just before summer, her hair had been blue. Not months before that, she’d rocked purple. You’d think she’d have worn out the color spectrum by now.

“Thanks,” Mandy smiled widely. “So, first day on campus, huh? What should we do for our first night on campus?”

She nudged us with her elbows and I groaned. I could see where this was going. Ah, yes. I could basically visualize the quiet night I’d planned of staying in and doing some reading fading away fast. Mandy was enough of a party girl, but she could usually be reasoned with. Mandy and Aria, buddying up against me, I wasn’t sure I could survive that. Not that I had much of a choice.

“Going out and getting wasted?” Aria suggested like it was the most obvious thing. “Duh.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t have the drinking age,” she brushed me off. “Chill, grandma. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“Aria!” I widened my eyes in shock.

“What?” she shrugged innocently. “Please, like you’d expect me to be some sort of saint who faints at the sight of alcohol.”

I sighed. Well, that was true. It’s just that I was having a hard time accepting that Aria had grown into a young independent woman. She was 18 now, she was in college and she made her own choices. It was a bit scary. I shook my head, feeling that, if I opened my mouth, my mom would come out. Gee, when had I turned into an old boring lady?

“Fine,” I threw my hands up, conceding. “We’re going out. But I’m not carrying your sorry drunk asses back home.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Jessie J vs. Katy Perry – Last Friday’s domino~

I groaned as I struggled to wake up. The sun creeping through my half-closed eyelids sent a pounding through my head that triggered intense dizziness that triggered nausea. It was a chain reaction. Jesus Christ. What the hell had happened last night?

I forced myself to open my eyes. Huge mistake. I felt like I was gonna puke my guts out. I was in my dorm room, which was dark and I saw Mandy sleeping gloriously in her bed, one leg over the covers, wearing the same outfit she had last night and drooling over the pillow. Good. I wasn’t going to suffer alone. Just as I was about to pull the blanket over my head, hoping I’d suffocate before I had to get out of my bed, the door burst open and a giddy Aria waltzed in. I groaned at the noise, feeling like my head was gonna explode.

“Morning, sunshine,” she chanted and Mandy rolled over, groaning as well. Aria went straight to the windows and she raised the blinds, opening the windows widely. “Such a beautiful day outside, don’t you think? And you’re wasting it by lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourselves. Ah, the flowery smell of defeat.”

“How are you not hungover?” I managed to mumble, ignoring her ranting. She laughed and jumped in bed next to me. Was she suicidal? Did she like her clothes so little she wanted me to throw up all over them?

“That’s cause by the time I was starting to feel even a little bit tipsy, you guys were already wasted,” she shrugged, and I groaned. “And how did that saying go? Someone had to watch out for your sorry drunk asses.”

Mandy mumbled something from her bed that sounded like Jabba the Hut, but we ignored her.

“I think she’s still a little drunk,” Aria commented, tilting her head. “Understandable. Such a huge amount of alcohol takes at least a week to sober up from. Seriously, how something so tiny like you and Mandy could drink so freaking much goes beyond my head.”

I buried myself under the covers. Aria was only confirming something I knew already, considering I couldn’t remember a single thing from last night. I had a few flashes of the first two hours, maybe, but after that, it was complete darkness. I was scared to even ask.

“Come on, big sis,” Aria smirked at me, probably guessing my thoughts. “Ask away. I know you wanna, you know you wanna. And trust me, they’re juicy stories.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I answered and she laughed.

“So you wanna hear them?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you do, here goes,” she ignored me, and I didn’t have it in me to keep arguing. “Mandy made out with like three different bartenders. You gave a guy a lap dance, so you might find a 20 in your underwear if you haven’t already. You drunk dialed each other to confess your undying love and how immensely grateful you are to be friends. Should I go on?”

Mandy/Jabba the Hut mumbled something from under her blanket and I released a breath.

“Doesn’t sound that bad so far. I mean, could have been worse, right?”

Aria threw her head back laughing. “Oh, sweetie, I’m just getting started. I didn’t even get to the good part. So here goes. Mandy had already started to lose the ability to form sentences, but luckily for us, you were getting to that point of spilling out ideas. So around what must have been the 200^th shot of tequila/vodka/whatever the hell you had to drink, you told Mandy that a friendship like yours is worth remembering for life.”

“Oh no,” I hid my face in my palms.

“Oh yes. That she was so important for you that you wanted to carry her friendship with you forever.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. I tried to stop you, but you’re more stubborn when you’re drunk than you are when you’re sober, so that’s gotta count for something. So anyway, Mandy was super psyched by your idea. Care to take a wild guess what that idea was? Hint: not friendship bracelets.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Friendship tattoos. So we went to the nearest tattoo parlor.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. At that point, I wasn’t even trying to talk you out of it. Can you imagine mom and dad’s faces when they’re good nerdy kid came home with a tramp stamp from her best friend? I was gonna savor that.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. And here’s the great plot twist. Are you sitting?”

“Where would I go, Aria? I can’t even move without being sick.”

“Okay, so, you’ll never guess who the tattoo artist was.”

I removed my hands from my face and I turned to Aria, frowning. “Huh?” She looked back at me with the most satisfied grin I’d ever seen on her.

“Dude. I’m telling you. Best plot twist in the history of plot twists. So, remember the Fourth of July?”

My eyes widened and I gasped. No. No. No. What were the odds? No way.

“Oh no.”

“Oooooh, yes.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Fall Out Boy – Where did the party go~

~Paul’s POV, September 2016~

This had been such a shitty day. Like, the kind of shitty day that happens once, maybe twice a year and manages to fuck up your entire week. Like, the kind of shitty day that takes a divine miracle in the form of a tall blonde with long legs and tiny skirts and gorgeous cleavages to make up for it. But that wasn’t gonna happen. Because shitty days are shitty until the very end.

I walked down the street, making my way towards the tattoo parlor where I worked, hoping at least that would get my mind off it. In all truthness, I didn’t really need to work as tattoo artist. After my parents’ death, I had been taken into care by uncle Ross and aunt Lily, who had shitloads of money. And I’m not kidding. These guys have built an empire and they made sure I always got everything I needed. So I didn’t work at the tattoo parlor because I needed money. I did it because I needed something of my own. A thing that I can do so that I don’t feel useless. Not that uncle Ross and aunt Lily understood that. I loved them, but they could be such a pain in the ass sometimes.

I walked into the parlor and took off my leather jacket. Linda, my boss, noticed me and offered a smile.

“Hey, Paul. You’re early today.”

I shrugged and grabbed a chair, turning it around, sitting on it and resting my arms on the back of it.

“Yeah, perk of running away from my problems,” I joked. “I’m always on time.”

Linda chuckled. “Bad day, huh?”

“The worst,” I replied, sighing. “Ross and Lily keep bugging me about the job. They think I should be focusing on ‘more important things’. Yeah, right. What’s wrong with parties, tattoos and smoking weed every day?”

Linda laughed out loud, her red curly hair bouncing up and down.

“What’s wrong with parties, tattoos and smoking weed every day?” she quoted me. “Paul Rixon, 2016.”

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes, but laughed nonetheless.

Linda was a cool chick. She was cryptic about her age, as all women were crazy about, but she must have been around 35. She was a non-conformist who liked to swear a lot and who made it no secret she would’ve liked to get in my pants. I was flattered, but cougars weren’t really my style, and she took no offense in it. I had lots of dude friends, like Nate and Pete, and I liked to hang with them. But if I had to get all sentimental and pick some sort of best friend, Linda would’ve been the one. There was something about her that made me trust her and open up. And Paul Rixon doesn’t do trusting and opening up.

I usually worked night shifts at the parlor so that it didn’t interfere with my day to day life, considering I would have never heard the end of it otherwise. Tonight was a quiet night. Save for a dude who wanted something tattooed over his ex’s name and a couple who got matching tattoos, it was pretty chill. I spent the whole night chatting with Linda and playing cards. Maybe it wasn’t my blonde miracle with long legs and mini-skirts, but it was something that took my mind off Ross and Lily’s pep talk and the fact that all of my friends had basically ignored me throughout the day when I tried to get someone to drink our asses off with.

But then around 2 a.m., the door to the parlor opened and two drunk girls and a sober one walked in.

Remember what I said about that miracle it takes to turn my day around? Oh, this was better. Way better. Sure, still no slutty blonde, but no less entertaining.

It had been dark that night and I’d been pretty stoned. But a man never forgets the women who don’t fall prey to him. Besides, she’d been smoking hot. I never forgot a hot figure.

“Well, well,” I whistled. “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Look who just walked into my parlor.” Linda’s parlor, technically. “Dawn Lovelace, is it?”

The girl stopped and stumbled a bit, looking confused. I had to admit, in better light, she was pretty cute. She wasn’t the kind of girl I would’ve picked from a crowd, or even my type, but there was something in those doe eyes of hers, currently intoxicated with alcohol, in that little frown and in the way she’d held her own so well that night. Yeah, she wasn’t my type. But I could give it a whirl.

“I know you,” she slurred, pointing her finger at me, and I laughed.

“And I know you,” I replied. “Both.”

I turned my attention to the blondie, who was watching the whole exchange amused. “Hurricane, is it?”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “Actually, it’s Aria.”

I tilted my head, watching her. Aria. It seemed like such a common name. “I think I prefer Hurricane.”

She shook her head, laughing, but still extended her arm and high-fived me. I decided that I liked her. She was like a little sister, but I had my eyes on the older one of the two. I turned again towards Dawn, who watched me like a confused puppy.

“I know you,” she repeated, stumbling over words. “How do I know you?”

I took a step closer. “We’ve already met.” Another step closer. “In your dreams, baby.”

She parted her lips, looking at me even more confused than before. And for a second, I thought she was drunk enough to buy that, but it didn’t last long. She burst out laughing out of nowhere, obnoxiously and snorting, clapping her hands and snorting again. Wow, she was really wasted.

“Good one,” she sing-sang. “Goooood one. My dreams. I see what you did there.” She paused, the smile on her face fading and being replaced with the shadow of panic. “Actually, I don’t, cause, cause I’m, uuuh, having a bit of double vision, I think?”

I laughed and offered a chair, turning to Aria/Hurricane. Dawn fell in it gloriously, letting out a loud sigh.

“I’m guessing she wants to get a tattoo?” I asked her sister, and she sighed, not looking apologetic or annoyed at all. In fact, she looked pretty entertained by the whole situation.

“Yeah. She and her friend right here.”

I noticed the little minion for the first time since they’d entered the parlor. She was just as drunk as Dawn and looked like her 6 year-old cousin. No, but seriously, she was pretty cute, but the pink hair and the height really put me off.

“Hi, tiny friend of Dawn’s,” I resisted the urge to pet her pink hair.

She said something back, but the words were so twisted they only made her sound like Jabba the Hut.

“So they want matching tattoos?” I asked Hurricane. Yeah, I’d decided Hurricane suited her better. She had that ruffled look, with long blonde curly hair and leather jacket and combat boots. She nodded, but just as I was about to reply, Linda cut in.

“Paul, you know the policy about drunk tattoos.”

Dawn stood up so quickly, taking us all by surprise, just to fall back into the chair from dizziness, her wide eyes never leaving mine, looking as if she’d just discovered the use of the toothpick.

“Paul,” she shouted. “You’re douche Paul!”

I pursed my lips, turning to Hurricane, who was biting her lip against laughter.

“Douche Paul?” I questioned.

“What can I say, man? I guess you left quite the impression that night.”

I rolled my eyes at her. Well, I can’t say it came as much of a surprise. I had the reputation of being the opposite of a charmer. I was lucky enough to be able to get girls without trying too hard, so wasting time by being charming was of no interest to me. But I looked back at Dawn. It seemed to me that I’d have to try a little bit harder if I wanted to rid her of douche Paul. Enter charming Paul.

“So about that tattoo—“ Hurricane started. “I don’t think they’ll leave here unless they get a tattoo. Surely it’s a bad idea, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy my nerd of a sister doing something stupid. Is there something you can do about that?”

I chuckled. “Well, we’re a serious parlor. We’re not allowed to give tattoos to clients who are so heavily intoxicated. But I think there might be a way.”

I pulled out some henna paint and started working on Dawn’s friend first. Just as I’d thought, they didn’t know the difference and, seeing as it was only a temporary tattoo, it was perfectly legal. The tiny friend mumbled and laughed the whole time, but I paid little attention to her. As soon as I was done with her, Hurricane picked her up and let me know they’d be outside so that Mandy – that must have been the pink girl’s name – could get some fresh air and sober up.

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers ft. Phoebe Ryan – All we know~

That having been said, I sat in a chair across from Dawn and she fixated her gaze on me. Her brown eyes danced, unfocused as she tried to glare at me and failed miserably.

“Hi, douche Paul,” she tried to snap and failed miserably still. I laughed.

“Hi, drunk Dawn. So where do you want your tattoo and what do you want it to say?”

She looked at me pointedly for a second, maybe trying to figure out a way to get that tattoo without having to deal with me. I don’t know what must have happened in her little drunk head, because eventually, she shot me a smile and took off her scarf, pulling one of the straps of her dress down to reveal her shoulder. I found myself gulping. Firstly, because this was the first time she’d smiled at me and it struck me dumb, the way her scrunchy face could light up like that. And secondly, because of that small patch of her skin on her shoulder that she’d so boldly uncovered. But then I bitch-slapped myself. Paul Rixon didn’t get distracted by smiles or bare shoulders. Not if I wanted to see more bare parts of her than a small bit of skin.

“Mandy and Dawn forever,” she stated proudly, like a little kid.

“Forever only lasts for like three months, Dimples,” I teased her. “Even for lesbians. You sure you won’t come back here to beg me to tattoo something else over that?”

She frowned again, struggling to process my words. Maybe I should have tried shorter sentences. Eventually, she narrowed her eyes at me.

“We’re friend bests,” she stated. “I won’t beg for… whatever.”

“Sure, Dimples, sure,” I laughed.

I extended my hand and let my fingertips brush against her shoulder and I noticed with no little amount of satisfaction that she shuddered a little and a few goosebumps followed the trail of my fingers. She might not have liked me much, but her body surely did and I enjoyed the way she responded to my touch. I took my time inspecting the skin I was about to tattoo, enjoying the way she responded to my touch and she glared at me, apparently knowing exactly what game I was playing. I looked up at her innocently, shooting her a smirk I knew no girl could resist.

Should have known better. Dawn was no ordinary girl. I was beginning to see that.

“You done with the smolder?” she slurred.

I blinked up at her, unsure how to respond to that. I’d just been roasted by a girl who couldn’t even sit straight or speak clearly. Oh, but I knew how to get back at her. I smiled again, nodded and proceeded to paint the henna tattoo on her shoulder. Mandy and Dawn forever. Yeah, right. Let’s see how my initials looked on her skin for the next two months. A little reminder. I wasn’t sure for what, but it’d be nice to know she’d look at it for the next few weeks and probably curse at me.

We sat in silence until I finished painting an italic P and an R. When I was done, she turned to me blinking.

“That didn’t hurt,” she stated, surprised, and I bit off my laughter.

“Yeah, umm, it’s the alcohol. It’s known to work as an anesthetic.”

I was full of shit, obviously, but she nodded at me as if she knew exactly what the hell I was talking about.

“Can I see it?” she stammered and I stood up, helping her up, too.

“Now it’s, umm, really red and really swollen. But I bet you’ll have a huge surprise tomorrow morning when you look in the mirror.” And that was tonight’s greatest understatement.

“Mkay,” she started yawning. “Thanks, douche Paul.”

I laughed, by this point having to admit it kinda stuck to me. “You’re welcome, Dimples. See you around.”

“Hope not,” she muttered under her breath. God, this woman was a joy to have around.

She walked out the door and I saw Hurricane intercepting her and literally throwing her ass into a cab. I shook my head and chuckled a little. Yeah. Definitely the little miracle that turned my day around. Linda’s voice brought me out of my reverie.

“Someone’s a bit smitten.”

I turned around abruptly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Me? Smitten? By a woman? Never.”

She laughed, clearly not buying it. “Sure, sure. Smitten Rixon.”

I rolled my eyes and I was going to argue, but then my eyes fell to the chair where Dawn had been sitting and I noticed the scarf she’d taken off before I started working on the tattoo. I looked at the door, thinking about sprinting after her to return it. But then I picked it up. It was silky and blue and it smelled of a sweet perfume that somehow suited her.

“That hers?” Linda asked me, but I didn’t answer. Instead, I folded the scarf and shoved it in a pocket inside my jacket. Till next time.

4: Chapter 3: Highway don't care

CHAPTER 3 – HIGHWAY DON’T CARE

~SOUNDTRACK: Lou Lou – Stayin’ alive~

~Dawn’s POV, November 2016~

If my life were a book, I could probably start each chapter with Aria suggesting something crazy. It was like she never ran out of stupid ideas to drag me into. And while I could normally avoid most of these – most, not all, never all of them – and stay home safe praying that particular day wasn’t going to be the day when we got that phone call which would let us know she’d been arrested, today I was trapped with no way out. What with it being her birthday and all that.

So if today were a chapter, I’d have to start it with Aria’s crazy idea for her birthday.

“Ask me what I wanna do for my birthday,” she’d blurted out this morning over breakfast.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Oh, I knew this card all too well. It was a well-thought strategy, a mind game I lost every year. But not today. I wasn’t playing today.

“No,” I told her, but it didn’t seem to faze her.

“Well, we are gonna do something,” she crossed her arms over her chest, smiling wickedly. “Don’t you wanna know what I’ve got planned?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you do. Here goes.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “You have got to stop using that card.”

“Pass,” she grinned, leaning over the table with mischief in her eyes. “So, remember you only get one veto. That having been said, I was thinking, now that I’m 18, we could go to Vegas. You’re driving. I have a whole agenda planned and mom and dad already think we’re visiting some old high school buddies of mine in San Diego. They think we’re going to some rave, but better going to a rave with Miss Pissy who’s just as bad with rules as mom than what I’ve actually got planned, am I right?”

All I could do was stare at her in disbelief. Vegas? Talk about not wanting to play her crazy games. It was the same story every year. Veto right, my ass. She came up with a first idea crazy enough for me to veto so that I actually had to pick the thing she’d thought of initially. Mind games. So what was I supposed to do now? If I said no to her Vegas idea, God knew what else she had in stock. I was scared to even think about it. But then again, I couldn’t exactly take my 18 year-old little sister to freaking Vegas, could I?

“Absolutely not,” I yelped. “We are not going to Vegas.”

“Okay,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Then there are some car races in town. We’ll go to that.”

I groaned. Again. “Car races. Of course. This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

She shrugged innocently. “You make it sound like I’m some evil mastermind.”

“You are.”

“Besides,” she flat out ignored my contribution, “this time around, I genuinely wanted to go to Vegas. But I’ll settle for car races.”

“Car races,” I shrieked again, in case my indignation from earlier hadn’t made enough of a point. “Car races, Aria? Car races are illegal. And, and dangerous.”

“Duh,” she rolled her eyes at me like I was some rookie – which I was, proudly. “I know that, dumbass. So was breaking and entering into a stadium. I do lots of illegal things. The key is not getting caught. Besides, you’ve already vetoed Vegas. You’re stuck with car races.”

She left me gaping with no argument. You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson the first 17 times. But no. Twelve hours later, Aria had thrown me into a mini skirt, boots and a leather jacket and the one and only concession I had gotten out of endless arguments had been the right to pull my hair into my signature ponytail. It was enough that she was dragging me to a car racing and that she had dressed me up into her clone, I had to do something to remember I was still Dawn.

~SOUNDTRACK: Muse – Supermassive black hole~

I followed Aria’s direction to a remote neighborhood on the outskirts of town and I heard the obnoxious music long before we even reached the site. Oh boy, and when we did reach the site. There must have been hundreds of people, hundreds of mini-skirts and long legs and boobs overflowing the way too tiny tops, hundreds and hundreds of beers, hundreds of intoxicating teenagers and the screeching of tires of the pavement was deafening. The moment we got out of the car, the smell of hot burning tires and gas flooded my nostrils. It was like night itself was throwing an epic rave.

I hated it.

I crossed my arms over my chest, as if guarding myself against it all, but Aria slapped my hands away.

“Stop Dawn-ing this,” she scolded me, and I huffed. “Blend in.”

Blending in. That was easier said than done. People screamed and the testosterone in those drivers was overwhelming even from afar. But while I was having trouble with it, Aria blended in in no time. In the blink of an eye, she was aligned with all those people yelling and cheering, dancing along to this type of electronic music wanna-be I had no idea she even liked. I sat back and watched her enjoyed it. I can’t say I understood the purpose of this gathering or where she saw the flavor in it, but I was happy she was having fun. So long we didn’t get arrested. While mom and dad expected to bail Aria out of jail at some point, I don’t think they afforded to bail me out, too.

“You having fun?” I asked Aria over the deafening music and she turned to me, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“Hell yeah,” she screamed back. “I wish I could sign up for one of these.”

I didn’t even bother arguing with her, because I was pretty sure even Aria knew that was impossible. The guys who took part in stuff like this were big and dangerous and scary and, while my sister was dangerous and scary in her cute little way, too, those guys knew their shit. They were regulars and they didn’t mess around. I didn’t know much about races, but I did know there was lots of money involved. Also, Aria didn’t have a car. And with so many fancy sport cars around, signing up my old truck was only gonna be humiliating for a car geek like herself.

“Also,” she leaned closer to my ear. “Don’t look now, but there’s a guy on your 3 o’clock who’s been giving me the eye.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway and subtly turned to my right. The crowd was thick and I thought I was never gonna be able to make up the guy Aria had her eyes on, but I spotted him right away. Mostly because he was obvious as hell, nearly tripping over his tongue. Understandable, really.              While I was older, but tinier, with shoulder-length brown hair that I never let down and out of that pony tail, with an ever-present frown on my face and something that Aria called ‘the judgy look’, my sister had the it factor. If I was summer dresses and sweaters, she was sneakers and leather jackets. If I was pony tails, she was messy bronze blonde hair swinging down her back. And if I was frowny and judgy, Aria was telling stuff like it was, saying what she thought and speaking her mind without overanalyzing stuff like I did. It was like we weren’t even related. We wouldn’t know, really. Mom and dad had been joking about us being adopted for so many years, at this point it was kinda hard to make out the truth.

Aria nudging me with her elbow in my ribs brought me out of my reverie.

“Dawn, you’re staring,” she said through gritted teeth and I blushed a little.

I had been staring, but I don’t think the guy had even noticed me. Like I said, he was drooling all over his shirt with his eyes glued on Aria. And he was cute. He had that messy rock star look that she dug, though the poor fella looked so dumb folded I was pretty sure Aria could eat him alive. And by the look in his eyes, he knew it, too.

I was just about to look away, grateful he was too smitten to notice me staring, when another guy joined him, patting him on the shoulder and laughing.  I squinted, pretty sure I knew this other dude from somewhere, but it was hard to make out his features through this darkness and the overwhelming light show and the crowd. He was wearing a jacket that looked absurdly expensive and sunglasses. Sunglasses at night. Basically the douchebag signature. And where had I seen that bronze hair that was so intentionally messy and that smug smile?

I couldn’t see his eyes, but by the way his head cocked to one side and the grin widened, I could tell he’d noticed me. And I froze as I realized exactly who he was. I turned to Aria violently.

“What?” she frowned at me.

“We gotta go.”

“Go? But we just got here.”

“Aria, please. Trust me, we—“

I tugged at her sleeve like a little kid while she was staring at me like I’d gone nuts, but I didn’t get to finish my sentence when I noticed her looking over my shoulder. Her eyes widened and I shut mine tight, hoping whatever was about to happen wasn’t really happening. For some reason, I remembered those movie scenes when the villain shows up and the hero asks, ‘He’s right behind me, isn’t he?’ This is how absurd this situation was.

“Well, well,” a low, raspy voice came from behind me. “This city sure is small. The Dawn and her Hurricane. What d’ya know?”

I turned around, pursing my lips in utter rage. I don’t know what was about that guy that was able to bring out such an ugly side of me, but it was like he had a specific formula that let him know exactly which one of my buttons to push. Or maybe I just didn’t like self-centered, obnoxious, arrogant pricks.

“Hi,” I said acidly. “Patrick, was it?”

“Paul,” he corrected, amused by my attempts to diminish him. “You should have known by now. I did make sure to leave you with a reminder of it, if I recall. How’s that tattoo, by the way?”

I could practically feel my nostrils flare and I heard Aria snort behind me. Traitor. Of course, the henna tattoo. I had rubbed and rubbed, trying to wash it away, but I could still make out its shape. I’d had to see it every morning in the mirror for weeks. PR. Douche Paul’s initials, I could only assume. The night was blurred into my head, but I sometimes got a few flashes that I would’ve preferred not to. Not one of my proudest moments. And I’d had to live with a reminder of that for quite some time.

“Almost gone,” I snarled at him and he chuckled. “You know, I’m pretty sure there’s some illegal catch to this. I could sue your ass.”

He rubbed his chin pensively, mocking me. “You really can’t,” he replied, grinning down at me. “You see, Dimples, we’re not allowed to ink intoxicated people. But I didn’t ink you, did I? You weren’t going to leave without a tattoo, so I worked with what I had. And Paul Rixon always leaves an unforgettable impression.”

Paul Rixon. I narrowed my eyes. Just like I’d thought. His initials.

“Sure, Pablo,” I shrugged, playing nonchalant. “Now if you don’t mind…”

I tried to turn my back on him, but I heard him snickering. “Pablo’s Spanish for Paul, so I’ll take that as a win. And I do mind, because I come in peace this time.”

“Color me shocked,” I muttered under my breath and he shook his head amused before slapping his friend’s shoulder.

Seeing him from up close, I could tell Paul’s friend was actually really nice. I stood by my earlier statement, Aria would still eat him alive, but truth was, he was nice. He had onyx black hair matched with clear blue eyes and a goofy smile that contrasted against his racer badass leather jacket. He was like a baby owl dressed as a falcon for Halloween. But then he looked at Aria through those long lashes with those cute little sky blue eyes and I could practically feel Aria almost stumble a step backwards.

“This is Pete,” Paul said, and I turned to Aria, not knowing whether it was my turn to react. Luckily, I knew Aria wouldn’t disappoint me. Cute as a puppy as he was, Aria wasn’t easily taken aback. She looked him up and down, crossed her arms over her chest and clicked her tongue. Hurricane mode on.

“Can’t Pete introduce himself?” she tilted her head. It was like watching a ping pong game. I looked back at Pete to see him shrug one shoulder and extend his arm. Huh. Kudos to him for standing his ground. I’d seen Aria break boys. He was on dangerous territory.

“Sure,” he responded, and Aria took his hand reluctantly, shooting him a half smile. “Pete. Paul said he knew you.”

“He doesn’t,” I was quick to reply.

“Sure he does,” Aria responded at the same time, successfully avoiding my glare. “I’m Hurricane. Hurricane Lovelace.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I looked at Pete to assess his reaction, but the kid was unreadable. He looked at Aria like at a thousand-pieces unsolved puzzle that he was keen on resolving.

“Huh,” was all he said. “Suits you.” Aria simply blinked. “So, you like car races?” Aria extended her arms and rolled her eyes at the surroundings to emphasize how absurd his question was. “Cool. I could use a co-pilot for the next race. Word goes around here it brings good luck to bring a pretty girl along, and I could use some if I wanna kick Paul’s ass.”

It was my turn to just blink at the exchange. Huh. Who would’ve thought? The baby owl wasn’t so helpless after all. He was growing falcon feathers. And the funny thing was, Aria was a bit impressed. I could tell she hadn’t given him credit, either, and she was still pondering ways to get into his head. I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch. Unlike his friend douche Paul, I actually liked Pete.

But then it registered and my eyes widened.

“Wait, what?” I shrieked. “Aria, no. That’s—“

“Illegal?” Aria turned to me, rolling her eyes. “Heard you the first time, grandma.”

“Aria?” Pete cocked his head. “Wasn’t your name Hurricane?”

“It is,” she taunted him, then leaned in to whisper in his year. “Alzheimer’s. You know how it is at her age.”

“Aria—“ I tried again, but Paul stepped in my way. It took me a bit by surprise, how hard I wanted to punch him. This whole thing, what with the racing and all, was already way out of my comfort zone. Adding his presence to the mix was too stressful already and I smelled the bitter fragrance of imminent disaster.

“Look, you worry too much,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at me with a smirk that drove me to the edge of my nerves. “This whole thing isn’t as dangerous as it looks.”

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I crossed my arms over my chest, but then I noticed his eyes sliding down to my breasts and, blushing violently while his smirk never left his lips, I zipped up my jacket.

“It is,” he replied. “It’s safe. Cops leave us be as long as we keep playing nice with each other. And Pete and I are good drivers. Look, how about a friendly competition?” He stepped closer until only inches separated us and I stepped backwards, scowling at him. “Hurricane co-pilots him. You co-pilot me. It’s gonna be fun. Winner gets his co-pilot’s phone number.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and, with the corner of my eyes, I noticed Pete smiling sideways at Aria. Me, on the other hand, well, I wasn’t so convinced. Which is to put it lightly.

“Hell no,” I shrieked. “I am not getting in a car with you. And in no parallel universe would I give you my phone number.”

“Don’t worry,” Pete’s voice came from behind me and I turned around to see he was actually watching Aria, a glint of mischief in his eyes – one that I was too familiar with; these two had the potential to get along just fine. “I don’t intend to lose.”

Aria scoffed and rolled her eyes, but I knew her well. She was taking up to him.

“Fine,” I conceded. “You can co-pilot Pete, Aria. But I am not getting in a car with Philip.”

Paul laughed at my constant attempt to mess up his name and pulled out a cigarette out of his pack and brought it to his lips, followed by a lighter. A cloud of smoke surrounded him before he replied and I coughed violently, slightly exaggerating it.

“Well, Dawn, it’s a double or nothing offer.”

“Then we’re not going,” I hissed and by my side, Aria threw her hands in the air dramatically.

“Yes,” she snapped. “We are. That’s it. Drama time over. I’m calling in my birthday favor.”

I widened my eyes at her, a little bit terrified. I knew Aria had no boundaries when it came to stuff she made me do on her birthday. There were many rules to that. First, the veto rule. And second, we each got one favor per birthday. It couldn’t be too huge or and it had to be accomplishable, and we couldn’t refuse. I was trapped.

“Seriously?” I threw my hands in the air. “You wanna waste your birthday favor on this?”

Aria gestured dramatically. “Actually participating in a race and getting you to have some fun against your will? Duh. What do you think?”

Of course. I had no way out of this one.

“Fine,” I hissed. “One race.”

Aria let out a loud yelp and didn’t waste a single breath before fading into a crowd, with Pete on her heels and the last thing I heard was him saying, “I didn’t know it was your birthday,” before the night swallowed them.

And I was left alone with douche Paul. He put out his cigarette with his shoe and straightened his back mockingly, stepping out of the way and gesturing for me to walk ahead.

“Shall we, Dimples?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically and huffed loud enough to make it a point that I was not doing this willingly. “Screw you, Pedro.”

~SOUNDTRACK: Wolfe feat. Emma Sameth – Under the covers~

He laughed as I moved past him and into the crowd and he led me to his car. And I don’t know much about cars other than what Aria kept throwing at me, but even I had to admit this one was a beauty. A black beauty, shiny and spotless. I supposed it was a Jaguar, but with my car culture, I couldn’t be sure.

“See something you like?” I felt Paul’s lips near my ear and flinched, clearing my throat before speaking.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

He laughed whole heartedly before moving past me and opening the door for me.

“If a Jaguar is an okay car, you’re a tough cookie to impress, Dimples.”

I got inside the car with my chin held high and every ounce of pride I could master up my sleeve. He shook his head amused and moved to the other’s side of the car, climbing inside the driver’s seat. I took my time to admire the inside of the Jaguar. Damn, this really was a pretty car. The leather seats smelled incredible and I was afraid to even touch any surface because of how super expensive it all looked. By the time Paul climbed inside the car, the bitch mode was back on.

“Tough cookie to impress?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “That train’s left the station like fifteen seconds into meeting you, Percy.”

“You just wait,” he chuckled. “I know you’ll run out of names that start with a P eventually. I’ll be acknowledged one way or the other.”

I refused to acknowledge his acknowledgement as he drove to the start line, where Pete’s car already waited for them. Pete also had a sport car, so knowing Aria’s love for old cars and motorcycles, this might have been a yellow card for her. But then she looked inside Pete’s car and saw them chatting, Aria smiled at him and Pete looked a bit dumb folded, but he was keeping up. Huh.

“Cute pair, huh?” Paul commented after following my gaze. “They grow up so fast.”

“Oh, shut up, Paul,” I snapped, giving up on my attempt to keep messing up his name. He was right, though. There were only so many names that started with a P.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed happily. “I knew you remembered. It was the tattoo with the initials, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, those were your initials?” I played dumb, narrowing my eyes at him. “I thought it stood for something like… Like… Like ‘prick risk’.”

“Prick risk?” he looked over at me, feigning disappointment. “Come on, Dimples, you can do better than that. Let me have it. I’m sure you’re cooking up some really good insult up there.”

I bit my lip against a smile. No way was I letting him think he had gotten through to me. No way were we bonding or something. He had to know his place. And that was on mine and Santa’s black list.

“Potato Rooster. Penis Robot. Pretty Robust.”

He threw his head back laughing. “See, I knew we’d get along.”

“We are not getting along.”

“We so are. All right, Dimples, seat belt on. It’s show time.”

I fastened my seat belt on, muttering under my breath, “Now they’re worried about safety.” Paul started the engine and I could practically feel the tension before the race emanating out of his every pore, the air becoming charged around us. I looked over into Pete’s car and I could almost see the glint of adrenaline in Aria’s eyes as she flashed me. Flashes me! Pete looked at her with a dumb smile on his face like he’d just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

“Ready, Dimples?” Paul asked me, but never waited for me to reply before flooring it.

Both cars plunged forward and I could feel bile rising up in my throat. I gripped the door handle tight until my knuckles turned white and I was pretty sure I was holding my breath. I didn’t want to look at the speed meter, but I was pretty sure we were going fast as fuck. The car was almost flying and Pete was close by, no more than inches between the two cars. I shut my eyes tight. This was terrifying.

“Dawn,” I heard Paul’s voice through the panic and I dared to open one eye to look at him. He was glowing, adrenaline pouring out of him, a feral smile attached to his lips. And he was in the moment and not one second further. Every beat of a clock in the back of my head was unique to him and every inch of road was a brand new adventure. He was drunk on the rush. And then I heard him whisper against the screeching of tires against the pavement, “Breathe.”

And I did. I let his intoxicating rush flood me, too and I took in a deep breath. As my lungs expanded, I felt it. It was really exhilarating. Frantic people flew by us in less than an instant and the lights merged into a single bright streak that felt like a paintbrush driven across the back of my eyes. The speed made my blood hum and my heart beat faster and faster and faster and in sync with the beat of a song that seemed to come from so far away now.

I looked out the window and saw that Pete and Aria were just feet behind us. Paul was winning this. I knew there was a headache of consequences to worry about, but I couldn’t wrap my head around those just yet.

“You’re winning,” I told him and I turned to him when he didn’t respond. He was usually so vocal.

Eventually, he said, “Not quite, Dimples,” and his foot slammed the breaks and I watched Pete’s car fly right by us and past the finish line. Paul’s car was quick to follow and I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. “Don’t get me wrong, Dimples, I like you. But right now, I gotta wingman my buddy.”

Oh. The pieces clicked into my head. Pete had won Aria’s number. Smart, I had to give Paul as much. Really smart. He stopped the car past the finish line next to Pete’s and we both got out. Paul went over and patted his friend on the back, both of them laughing.

“Good race, man,” Paul told him and Pete laughed.

“Nah, you let me win.”

Paul winked at him. “Bro code, man. Bro code.”

~SOUNDTRACK: The Blue Foundation – Eyes on fire~

Aria fake gagged at the bro love and I couldn’t help but giggle a little. Against my protests, she agreed to let the boys walk us to our car. And just as expected, she stayed behind talking to Pete and shamelessly flirting with him until the poor boy didn’t know his name anymore and I had to walk ahead with Paul on my heels, trying to get reactions out of me.

“So you’re single?”

“None of your business.”

“Are you in college? Working?”

“None of your business.”

“Do you always wear leather jackets and boots? It’s hot, but you seem more of a summer dress kind of girl.”

“None of your business.”

“Do you think Aria and Pete will hook up?”

“None of our business. Except I’ll set his balls on fire. You might wanna drop that hint to\\on him.”

“Noted. So how old are you?”

“None of your business.”

“Where’s the pink-haired chick? Your best friend forever?”

“None of your business.”

“So pardon my boldness, but are those real? Cause they’re real nice.” He looked down towards my breasts, which were still covered by my jacket, but I still blushed violently.

“Rude, obnoxious and totally none of your business.”

We had reached my car and I overheard bits of Aria and Pete’s conversation.

“So, umm,” Pete stammered. “I think I’m long overdue my prize.”

I saw Aria smirk innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaned forward, but Aria only stepped back. “I’m talking,” Pete murmured, “about seeing you again.”

“Well,” Aria winked at him, “we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

Then she turned around, leaving him gaping and winked at me before getting into the car. I rolled my eyes, knowing what I had to do. God, I wondered if she would ever cease to involve me in her crazy schemes. Pete walked away, rubbing the back of his head confused as to what had just happened and I turned to Paul, extending my palm.

“Phone,” I commanded simply, and he shot me a smile that made me feel dirty.

“I knew you’d cave in,” he handed me his phone and I rolled my eyes.

“You were wrong,” I smiled sweetly, with just enough acid to practically burn my lips off. “This is Aria’s number. Keep him boiling for a few days, then give it to him. Direct instructions from the source.”

“Huh,” he mumbled after I handed him back his phone. “So none of your digits, then?”

“Not a single one of them.”

I turned around and opened the door of my truck, eager to just get the hell out of there and already fantasizing about my bed and my books and my sweatpants. But I barely got to open the door one inch when a strong arm came from behind me and slammed it shut again. I felt Paul’s breath on my neck, but I didn’t move. He moved so close to me I could feel his chest expanding against my back. He just stood there, his arm holding the door to my car in place, but I refused to turn around. Because I was drunk on adrenaline, and I was gonna either kick him in the crotch or make out with him. So we just stood there for minutes.

“Was there something else you wanted?” I asked eventually, surprised at how steady my voice sounded. I felt him let out a low laugh.

“Yeah,” he replied in a low, groggy voice that sent a chill down my spine against my will. “Plenty. But we’re getting there.”

He stepped backwards and I felt my shoulders relax. He opened the door for me and I finally mustered the guts to turn around and face him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes spoke a language I wasn’t willing or ready to translate. So I pretended not to notice.

“No. We’re not,” I replied.

“We’re getting there,” he repeated. “San Francisco ain’t that big a city, Dimples.” He stepped closer until I felt his breath hit my cheek and I forced myself not to step backwards and give him the satisfaction of an influence over me. “So see you around.”

I held his gaze for exactly five seconds before climbing inside the car.

“Or not. Goodbye, Patrick.”

The last thing I heard before driving away was his laughter and him yelling, “You used that one before!”

5: Chapter 4: Now I've got you in my space

CHAPTER 4 – NOW I’VE GOT YOU IN MY SPACE

~SOUNDTRACK: The 1975 – Girls~

~Paul’s POV, November 2016~

It was the dreadful Monday after a wild weekend. A wild three-day weekend that had started with the car races on Thursday and that had stumbled from party to party and from rave to rave until last night. So yeah, we had a full weekend worth of hangovers to look after, so Pete and I had stopped at Starbucks on our way to university to pump ourselves full of caffeine.

My head was hurting like crazy and I was having trouble keeping my guts together so that I wouldn’t barf them out, but Pete, on the other hand, was nursing his hangover better than ever. Ha. Fucker. How could he not? Just before calling him to meet up, I’d stumbled across Aria’s name in my phone – Hurricane’s, but it seemed to me that her sister was in big denial about that alias. I remembered what Dawn had told me on Thursday night – to keep Pete boiling for a few days before giving him the number. And in all honestly, I had completely forgotten about it. Otherwise, I would’ve given it to him long ago, seeing as he’d busted my ear all weekend about that awesome chick who’d kept his at arm’s length for an entire night and who’d disappeared on him just like that. Whiny bastard.

So needless to say, I gave him the number as soon as I could and he was so keen on working on a strategy to get in touch with her that he forgot all about the hangover. Miraculously. And obviously, not before giving me a mouthful for hiding it from her for so long.

The barista called our names and I went over to get out coffees. Our extra strong coffees. Black. No sugar. That’s how bad it was. I returned to the table to the most ridiculous sight I had ever witnesses. What the shit.

“Peter Nolland,” I sat down and narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re a fucking moron, did you know that?”

Pete flipped me off. “Shut up,” he mumbled my way before dialing Hurricane’s number just to hang up no more than two seconds and a half later.

“Dude,” I extended my arms dramatically. “I think you’re supposed to let it ring before hanging up if you want to actually talk to her.”

“Shut up,” he snapped at me again, a little weaker this time.

He tried to call her again and, again, chickened in the last moment. “This is painful to watch,” I mumbled under my breath, shaking my head and sipping on my coffee, feeling as it slowly alleviated my fucked up headache.

“You know what?” he rubbed his palms nervously. “Screw this. I’m gonna leave her a voice mail.”

I chuckled. It was still painful to watch, but as all best friends, I made it my purpose to enjoy his pain. What are friends for, am I right?

He dialed her number again and I heard her voicemail message through Pete’s phone.

‘Sup, losers, you’ve reached Hurricane. I probably won’t listen to this, but knock yourself out. See ya!

I rolled my eyes, smiling nonetheless. Hurricane was funny and a little weird, which made her perfect for Pete. She was a bit off the grid and I feared for my boy’s safety, but Pete was a grown up guy. He could hold his own. Or not. Whatever worked. It was still fun to see him so out of his element. I’d known Pete for a while and I knew he was a complete wuss and the biggest nerd. But the paradox was, Pete looked like a little cub, but he was actually quite the lion. And his game was on point, cause chicks were usually digging the puppy eyes and the shyness and then he hit them with just the right words. Pete was a dork, but in what concerned me, he was a god. It remained to be seen if his game would work on Hurricane.

“Heeeey, Hurricane,” he started in a high-pitched voice that made me cringe. “It’s – It’s Pete. Pete, from the races. Umm, Pete Nolland.”

I bit my lip against the cascade of laughter that threatened to spill over, but he didn’t need to look at me to know it was utterly lame. It had, indeed, been seen that his game was a bit overthrown by this chick.

“To replay the message, press 1,” his phone chimed. “To delete the message, press 2.”

Pete didn’t even hesitate before pressing 2, and before I could make fun of him or offer any piece of advice whatsoever, he recorded another one. And another ten after that. Each lamer than the previous one. By the tenth one, my head hurt more because of Pete than because of the heavy partying this weekend.

“Hey, Aria—“ Message deleted. “Why the hell did I call her Aria? She introduced herself as Hurricane. The fuck is wrong with me?”

“Hurricane. You already know who I am, I figure.” Message deleted. “What am I, the Godfather? Hurricane, I’ll make you an offer you cannot refuse. Go out with the greatest idiot on earth.”

“Hi, Hurricane. I’m – It’s… Umm, Pete. I am…” Message deleted.

“Hey, Hurricane. You, me, date? What do you say?”

“Hello, Hurricane.”

“H-Hi—“

“Umm, hey, Hurricane?”

This was getting ridiculous. I rolled my eyes dramatically and grabbed the phone from his hand and deleted the last message.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he squealed, and I shushed him, recording a new message.

“Yo, Hurricane,” I started. “Your girlfriends had me ask you out for him. Call Pete back.”

Pete looked at me horrified as the voice in his phone reminded me, “To replay message, press 1.” I remembered the words in my head and I started getting second thoughts. I looked at Pete and for a second, I worried he was in a nearly catatonic state. And maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t approached this right. “To delete—“

I deleted the message and turned to Pete, frowning. “That was too harsh, wasn’t it? I sounded like a douche.”

Douche Paul. Maybe Dawn was onto something. Pete looked at me and shrugged one shoulder, troubled. I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know what?” I tossed his phone back and he caught it with one hand. “Just text her.”

He sat back in his chair and let out a loud breath. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” A few moments of silence. “Should I use emojis?”

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “Pete. Does my face suggest I have opinions about fucking emojis?”

He looked at me for a few seconds with a confused puppy look in his eyes, then turned his attention to his phone. “So no emojis, I guess,” he muttered under his breath.

I gave him a look that he didn’t notice, because he was too wrapped up in composing a ten-word text and making it sound like a Shakespeare masterpiece. Huh. This was a weird turn of events. All the time, girls clawed at each other for Pete’s attention. I’m telling you, it’s the puppy eyes. He had that vulnerable thing to him that made him huggable and irresistible. Me, I was stuck with being douche Paul. Not that I minded. I scored enough girls as it was, seeing as there were enough girls with daddy issues who went for the bad guy. But Pete was one halo short of having an army of googly eyes on his steps.

But he never paid much attention to them. He made them sigh, won their hearts over and then decided he had no need for such thing. And the motherfucker was so clueless, it was frustrating. I have no idea what chick movies he’d watched and who the hell he waited for, but he’d rejected so many girls, it almost insulted my male pride. So to see Pete, always so cool and composed and uninterested Pete, fuss so hard about a girl who gave him the same cold shoulder he’d mastered, oh boy, it was priceless.

“Dude,” he slapped my shoulder. “Check this out. She’s totally bullshitting me.”

He handed me his phone and I looked at an exchange of four or five texts.

Hey, Hurricane. It’s Pete. Remember me? Dawn gave Paul your number the other day.

“Nice,” I approved of his text. “You did well, young padawan.”

“Oh, no,” he prompted. “Keep reading.”

Pete? Pete who? came the reply, and I cringed.

“Ouch,” I wrinkled my nose at poor Pete. “Right in the ego.”

Pete from the races? We met last Thursday. You co-piloted me :)

“I see you’ve decided to give a shot to emojis after all,” I mocked and he flipped me off.

I don’t remember any Pete.

And that was the last text. I turned to Pete with all of my pity. How Pete-iful. “Dude,” I sighed. “Dawn either gave me the wrong number, or she’s just playing you. And I don’t think Dawn gave me the wrong number.”

“Right,” Pete rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Because Dawn likes you so much, doesn’t she?”

“She does, secretly,” I argued. “But that’s not the point. I’m sure she’s just making fun of you. Kicking you in your fragile masculinity or whatever.”

“I don’t have a fragile masculinity,” he looked borderline offended and I rolled my eyes.

“We’re men, Pete. There isn’t an inch of our masculinity that isn’t fragile. Now give me that.”

I reached for his phone to save the situation and turn the situation against Hurricane, but he slapped my hand away. He wrote a text with a surprisingly determined look on his face. He hit send, looking damn smug and the phone buzzed a few seconds later. He showed it to me.

Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong number. You see, there’s this girl I met last week. She seemed pretty taken with my car. A beautiful Mustang. I was thinking I could give her another ride. On a date ;)

Well played, Peter. Well played. Right in the weakness.

I snorted. Who knew? My man Pete really had quite the game up his sleeve. My padawan was actually quite the skilled flirting Jedi.

I finished my coffee in silence while he and Hurricane kept texting. By the large smile plastered on his face, it was going good.

“Well?” I asked after taking the last sip of my coffee. “What’s the great conclusion?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, but his grin said otherwise. “She’s not going out with me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then what’s with the smile? Are you that good on taking a rejection?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a rejection,” he folded his arms behind his head and extended his legs in the chair.

“Yeah, Pete, I’m pretty sure her not going out with you counts as rejection.”

“Nah,” he shrugged again. “She didn’t say no. She just likes to play. It’s all about the chase. She said I have to,” he drew the quotation marks in the air, “earn it.”

“Earn it?”

“Yup.”

“And what does that mean?”

Pete grabbed his bag and stood up. Was that supposed to be some dramatic exit?

“It means,” he clicked his tongue, “game on.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Chris August – Stranger~

By the time we left Starbucks, we were already late to class. Now that Pete had his drama sorted out, I pointed out that if he went for the little sister, that gave me an opening to the older sister. He pointed out I was being idiotic and that Dawn couldn’t stand my guts. I pointed out there’s a fine line between love and hate. He pointed out I couldn’t recognize love if it were a train and it hit me at full speed five times a day. I pointed out he was probably right.

We made it to class way too late for the professor to let us attend, and while Pete wasn’t that concerned about it, I decided to stay behind and have a chat with the old bastard. I remembered the talk I’d had with uncle Ross and aunt Lily just last week. I hated to admit it, but they were right. It was the middle of the semester and my attendance was below sea level. I was lucky I always managed to study in time for the finals and pass them with actually decent grades, and I was lucky I usually managed to charm my ways into said finals without breaking a sweat during the semester. But with professor Chang, things didn’t go as smoothly. Mostly because he couldn’t stand my guts for a reason I couldn’t understand.

So here I was, half an hour later. If I wanted to be able to even take the final, considering my zero attendance, I had a week to write a kick-ass gigantic essay on International Law due next Monday. And that had brought me to the library.

The fucking library.

This was like bringing a nun to a strip club. Except maybe the nun would actually secretly enjoy it.

I walked inside the library and I held back a groan. Ugh. So many books. I moved through the shelves lazily until I found the Law section and hating every second of it, I selected the books I would probably need for that stupid essay. Everything with the word ‘international’ on it. As soon as I had a solid pile of books, I started making my way to the front desk to borrow them and get this over with. I was already starting to make a plan on how to finish this with as little effort as possible.

I was steps away from the front desk. I heard her before I could see her. And it was unmistakable. And really, not as big a coincidence as it had been to run into her into a giant crowd at the races. Chances were pretty high that we went to the same college.

“Miss Lovelace, I can’t just let you go inside without your pass. It is against the rule.”

I heard Dawn let out a very un-lady like groan. “Miss Parker, you’re being unreasonable. You know I have a pass. I was here last week! I just forgot it.”

“Rules are rules, Miss Lovelace. You ought to know that.”

Dawn groaned again and turned around angrily, looking like she wanted to smother the old librarian lady. Yeah, and it probably didn’t help that she found me not five feet from her when she turned around. Her face burned bright red – probably with rage rather than with how flustered and excited she was to meet me.

“You,” she narrowed her eyes at me. “I will close my eyes and count to ten, because you can’t be here. This day can’t be this bad.”

She actually closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, looking borderline shocked when she opened them and I was still standing in front of her.

“Ouch,” I feigned hurt. “Offense taken, Dimples. I may be your knight in shiny armor for all you know.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hi, Paul,” she grimaced. “I have had an awful day and now I can’t go inside the library to study. I would very much appreciate if you held back on whatever games or shenanigans you have in mind, because I am really not in the mood. And I hear double homicide is often frowned upon in court.”

“Shenanigans,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Frowned upon. Yeah, they frown between 20 to life, if you’re interested. But allow me to be your knight in shiny armor, after all.”

I moved past her without waiting for her reply and placed the books on the counter in front of the librarian. She was really an old bitter hag. There were wrinkles radiant to her lips that were proof she’d spent her whole life pouting and frowning. Her eyes were judgmental and they looked over those glasses right into my soul. Yikes.

I put on my best smile and leaned across the counter.

“Hello, Miss Parker,” I spoke sweetly and she just stared at me.

“Can I help you, young man?”

“I would like to borrow these, please and thank you,” I patted the pile of books and she started to scan them. “And may I add, that sweater looks marvelous on you. Brings out the green in your eyes.” It was an awful sweater. Dirty dark green, the color of mold. Just awful. “It looks hand-made, if I’m not wrong.”

That brought a grimace that looked almost like a smile out of her. “I knit it myself. Good eye. Name?”

“Paul Rixon, ma’am. You know, you remind me a lot of my grandma. Oh, she was just the sweetest lady. She would always knit me so many sweaters every Christmas. I was heartbroken when I grew out of them.” I let my eyes drop, going straight for effect. I tried for a few tears, but I figured it would’ve been overly dramatic. “Ever since her passing, Christmas just isn’t the same. But it’s nice to find a little reminder of her in such a wonderful lady as yourself, Miss Parker.”

“Oh, poor boy,” she patted my arm. Shots fired. “I wish more youngsters were so thoughtful of their elders. Your grandmother has raised you well, Mr. Rixon.”

I brought my hand to my chest and lowered my head in fake awe. I could practically hear Dawn rolling her eyes hard enough to make them pop out of her eye sockets.

“I’m touched, Miss Parker,” I smiled at her. “Take my girlfriend, for example.”

Dawn let out a small outraged gasp, but I looked over at her quickly over my shoulder to have her play along with this. And I could tell she wasn’t excited about it, but she didn’t object, at the very least. So I hoped Miss Parker could assume she was pissy because she was locked out of the library.

“My girlfriend doesn’t get that,” I continued. “I am all for respecting our elders. But you see, she’s had a really rough day. Her cat just died, and she loved her cat very much. So you can understand why she’s a little out of her element today.”

By the way the old lady huffed and puffed, I could tell Dawn wasn’t out of her element today. I smelled a bit of a feud here, but I shot Miss Parker my best smile and I felt her slowly caving in.

“She needs to take her mind off of it for a while,” I poured honey into my voice. “Would you do that for me, Miss Parker?”

She pursed her lips and glared at Dawn, then turned to me and grimaced again into her weird way of smiling. “Alright. Just because you’ve been so kind, Mr. Rixon. Miss Lovelace, you should follow your boyfriend’s example more often. You may go now.”

I turned to Dawn with the smuggest smile I could pull off and I could practically see her face melting off with rage. She forced an angry smile at Miss Parker before hugging her precious books even tighter.

“Thank you, Miss Parker,” she replied acidly. “Thanks, Paul. If you’ll excuse me now—“

She didn’t wait for our reply before turning on her heels and walking away. I couldn’t help but laugh. She was like a cocky little kitten. She was the most entertaining women I’ve ever chased.

“You know what, Miss Parker?” I turned around again. “On second thought, I think I’ll have these books here, if you don’t mind. Got a big essay to work on, you know? Better keep my girlfriend company while I’m at it.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Natalie Taylor – Latch~

“Is this seat taken?”

Dawn raised her gaze to meet mine and, if looks could kill, hers would have shot daggers and thunders and a few brain-eating zombies on my ass.

“Yes,” she replied sharply. “In fact, they’re all taken. Sucks to be you.”

She turned her attention back to the book she was reading, but if she thought for a second I was giving up so easily, then she’d clearly learned nothing from our past encounters. So I pulled the chair in front of her and sat down, pretending like I didn’t notice the death glare she was giving me. I took a look at her book.

“Radiation measurements in astrophysics?” I scowled. “Pff. Show off.”

I sat back with my feet prompted on the table and opened a random book. Something about the U.K. law. Wouldn’t know, because I wasn’t really reading. But the dramatics of it were good enough.

“Paul,” Dawn’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re in a library. You can’t do that in here.”

I shrugged and turned the page loudly, making no move to take my feet down. Eventually, she gave up and went back to her book. I took my time to look at her. She had a coffee and a muffin by her side and she was chewing on her pen. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail and she was wearing a purple sweater that reminded me how I liked her better in that leather jacket from last week. Dawn and Pete were very much alike, really, at a first look. They both came off as little kittens, but they were more than they actually let on. At least, that was the vibe I got from Dawn. There was more to her than purple sweaters and ponytails and radiation measurements in astrophysics.

“Psst, Dimples,” I whispered and she raised her gaze from her book, her nostrils flaring. “Whatcha doin’?”

She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Paul, you’re being a loud jerk. I’m trying to study here. Can’t you go somewhere else?”

I turned another page dramatically. “I hear all the seats are taken. Besides, I have to study, too.”

She clicked her pen angrily and leaned over the table, her nose wrinkling. “Oh, really? What are you even doing here, huh? Is there a degree in tattoos?”

“Huh,” I narrowed my eyes pensively. “I should look into that. But no. I’m actually in law school.”

Her eyes widened and she raised an eyebrow incredulously. I saw her gaze drift to my books to see if my story checked out and I showed her the cover. She let out a humorless laugh.

“Unbelievable,” she shook her head and I took a mocking bow.

“Why, thank you. Glad to know you find it so impressive.”

She picked up her pen again and glued her gaze to her book again. “I mean, unbelievable what type of individuals they’re willing to let in these days. Law school. What a joke.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “What’s your problem with me, Dimples? Now you’re just hurting my feelings.”

I saw the ghost of something that looked like guilt cross her eyes, but it was gone just as fast as it came. Her shoulders dropped and she let out a loud sigh.

“Fine,” she almost hissed at me. “Sorry. That was mean. I just have a very low tolerance for arrogant douchebags with little to no consideration for other people.” She returned yet again to her book.

“Ouch. Though I can’t say that wasn’t on point. Apology accepted.”

“It wasn’t too much of an apology,” she spoke without raising her eyes to meet mine.

“True,” I conceded. “I’ll still take it.” A few moments of silence passed. “So wanna go for a drink?”

She groaned and closed her book with a loud thud. “I’m out of here.”

She stood up and walked away and I burst out laughing. “So I’m guessing that’s a no?” I called after her just to be shushed by other students. She didn’t even look after her shoulder.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “I’ll just ask again tomorrow.”

6: Chapter 5: The rat in the house

CHAPTER 5 – THE RAT IN THE HOUSE

~SOUNDTRACK: Charli XCX – Boom clap~

~Dawn’s POV~

I walked out of the library almost fuming, unable still to wrap my head around the impossibly awful day I’d just had. Pop quiz first thing in the morning after a weekend of Aria overusing her birthday favors in which I hadn’t had a lot of time to study. The cafeteria had run out of blueberry muffins, which were my favorite, so I had to settle for cherries. Then somehow managed to drop it and my latte so I had to buy a new muffin and a new latte. Walked into the wrong class. Remembered I had a paper to write on radiation measurements due this Friday that I hadn’t even started. Then, naturally, I went to the library to get started with that and it turned out I had forgotten my pass. So obviously, because Miss Parker was a major pain in the ass, wouldn’t let me in even knew the old hag knew I had a pass. For crying out loud, I was here almost every day and she knew it. And who was there to get me out of trouble? Well, it was already a terrible day, so it happened like in those movies when you say to yourself that it couldn’t get any worse and then it starts raining. Oh, not raining. A freakin’ hurricane. In the form of douche Paul. And because douche Paul was a douche, he’d somehow managed to ruin any chance I had on starting that paper by simply overusing his flashy personality.

Groaning out loud, I pulled out my phone and dialed Aria’s number. She picked up after the second ring.

“Yo,” her voice greeted me. “I was just gonna call you. You’re not gonna believe who—“

“You can tell me in person,” I interrupted her, stomping angrily down the street. “Meet me at my dorm in ten minutes. I have a 911.”

“Oh, shit,” I heard her fuss around the room. “Be there in ten. I’ll bring the ice cream.”

I sighed and wrinkled my nose. “Aria?”

“Yeah?”

“Screw ice cream,” I heard myself say. “We need booze for this.”

I was met with silence for a few seconds, which, knowing Aria, meant she approved this so much she needed a few second to blow it out of proportions. For a second I almost regretted the choice, but then I remembered the crappy day I had just had. My muffin. My latte. Pop quiz. Essay. Evil Miss Parker. Douche Paul. Oh no. I needed this.

“My time has come,” Aria said eventually and I could almost hear the smirk in her voice. “You’ve come to the right person, vitamin D.”

I smiled at the nickname. “Oh, and Aria? Don’t hold back.”

She huffed. “Like I was ever gonna.”

I laughed out loud and I hung up. I had no doubt I had indeed come to the right person. If there was anyone who had the means to lift up my spirits, Aria could. And Mandy. My dynamic duo. Well, trio if you count the booze, and while I was usually the one with the stick up my ass, I needed a drink more than ever now.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking into my dorm room just to find Aria and Mandy already surrounded by empty glasses and bottles of vodka and beer and some weird-looking blue thing I had no idea what was and was a bit scared to ask at this point.

“Good,” I nodded and sat on the floor with them, grabbing a bottle of beer and gulping down about a quarter of it and letting out a content sigh while Aria and Mandy stared me down, the first in awe and approval, and the latter in a bit of shock.

“That bad?” Mandy raised an eyebrow at me and I simply nodded.

“I’m telling you, it’s that ugly purple sweater,” Aria pointed at my sweater. “It’s hideous, D. It must be cursed or something. I thought I told you to ditch it. Mandy, we had a deal. I gave you permission to destroy it.”

“Shut up, it’s my favorite sweater,” I defended. “And permission to destroy it? What are you, princess Leia?”

“Also,” Mandy raised a finger and gulped down a shot of vodka. “I like you, Aria, and I totally agree with you, but I’m not touching that sweater. I’m scared of your sister. She’s all cute and cuddly and wide-eyed and whatever, but she’s the cutthroat bitch I have to live with.”

“Fair enough,” I shrugged. “So long as it keeps my favorite sweater safe.”

Aria groaned and threw her head backwards in exasperation. “But it’s so ugly! You’ll never score something as gorgeous as Paul Rixon wearing that.”

I narrowed my eyes at the mention of his name and gulped down almost half of my beer under Aria and Mandy’s confused gazes. I put the bottle down with a loud thud and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t want to hear his name in this conversation again,” I pointed my finger at Aria. “Douche Paul is at least half the reason why I’m so pissed right now.”

“Huh,” Mandy twisted a strand of pink hair around her finger. “Paul from the tattoo place? He was hot.”

“Off topic,” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“He gave Dawn a ride last week,” Aria wriggled her eyebrows at Mandy.

“Oh,” Mandy smirked dirty at me. “Is that as dirty as it sounds?”

“No,” I replied. “Also off topic.”

“I like what he did with the tattoo. The henna thing was a pretty bright idea.”

“Off the freaking topic, Mandy,” I snapped. “Why are we still talking about the thing I didn’t wanna talk about?”

“Because he’s a very hot thing to talk about,” Aria offered, a dreamy expression on her face. “So, speaking of Paul Rixon and hot things to talk about.”

“Aria…” I groaned and she shushed me out.

“Shut up. There is a point. I’m getting there. So remember douche Paul, right?”

I grabbed the closest pillow and shoved it at her and, to my satisfaction, it hit her right in the face.

“Rings a really loud and obnoxious bell.”

“Goodie,” she chirped. “And remember his friend Pete?”

I raised an eyebrow. Oh yeah, I remembered Pete. The guy who’d been so in over his head and picked up the small bread crumbs that Aria left behind. Poor soul. The guy for whom I’d given Paul Aria’s number. A small grin blossomed across my lips.

“Pete?” Mandy looked from me to my sister.

“A poor bastard who fell head over his heels for Aria. And dare I say, that Aria herself fancied quite a bit.”

“Fancied,” Aria rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the insight, your majesty. Well, yeah, he was alright. And he texted me today.”

“Huh,” I clicked my tongue. “So douche Paul did something right and gave Pete your number after all.”

“He hot?” Mandy asked the more obvious questions.

“Eh,” I shrugged one shoulder at the same time as Aria said “Hell yeah.”

I turned to her with my eyebrows raised. “Hell yeah? I didn’t think you went for guys who are more likely to wear a skirt than you’ll ever be.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “Rude. At least he’s not wearing purple sweaters. And true, he may be a little shy, but he’s not that cute and innocent as he seems. Here. See for yourself.”

She took out her phone and went to texts, handing it to me to read them. Mandy snuggled into my side, curious as ever, the alcohol already making her motions a little uncoordinated, but she hadn’t turned into Jabba yet. I read the first texts, cringing a little at how bad Aria played poor Pete, but after the few firsts ones when she pretended not to remember who he was, it seemed like had finally mustered enough courage to dive in.

Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong number. You see, there’s this girl I met last week. She seemed pretty taken with my car. A beautiful Mustang. I was thinking I could give her another ride. On a date ;)

Well played, Peter. Well played. Right in the weakness.

I know my audience.

Now, now, let’s not get too hasty. One may dare say it’s beginning to look a lot like blackmail.

Do I need to go to such lengths as to blackmail you into going out with me?

Depends on what you’re offering me.

I’ve been told I have pretty eyes.

That, you do. But that’s a low starting point. Come on, Peter, work with me.

And I’m a terrific kisser.

So am I, what’s your point?

I’ll have to see for myself ;)

Why, Pete, are you trying to out-Hurricane me?

More like trying to un-Pete myself.

That’s a Pete-y. Just when you were getting close to me accepting to go out with you.

Then I guess I’ll Pete myself back together. You know, since you like him so much ;)

……………..

That was too much, wasn’t it? When should I have stopped?

At name puns. Always stop at puns.

You just made two name puns.

Oh, you poor thing. Word of advice. Rules don’t apply to me ;)

And that had been it. I nearly choked on my beer, that’s how hooked I was. Mandy let out a dreamy sigh as I handed Aria back the phone.

“This was so intense,” I chuckled. “Guess he’s not as spineless as I thought him to be. I mean, you can still eat him alive, but I think he can hold his own. All the respect for the dude.”

“So Aria likes him,” Mandy sing-sang. “Look at that lil’ smirk of hers. She’s totally making out in her head with him right now.”

Aria really had a wide grin splattered over her face that she couldn’t wipe out. It was that half-smile I knew too well. The one that gave her dimples and the one that made her eyes sparkle with mischief. I was really starting to pity poor Pete. He may have thought so, but he had no idea what he was getting into. Aria liked to play guys she wasn’t even into. But seeing as she actually liked Pete, she was really gonna Hurricane his ass.

She clicked her tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered Mandy. “I am doing no such thing.”

But as she brought the glass to her lip and let her eyes drift upwards, we all knew she was.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Bob Bradley – Save me~

I walked into the library the next day, grateful yesterday’s little drinking party hadn’t resulted into a hangover. Now I had all day to start working on my paper, so I flashed my pass at Miss Parker with no little amount of smugness and grinning sharply, then with my books hugged tight to my chest and my coffee in hand, a blueberry muffin safely into my bag waiting for me, I headed to my usual spot.

I didn’t even notice him until I sat down. That’s how dead set I was on having a good day, and yet a good studying day, given how terrible yesterday had been. So I sat down, I opened my book and let out a sigh, finally raising my gaze.

And there he was. Smug and punchable as ever. Grinning arrogantly at me, with his feet off the table for a change. Douche Paul himself.

“I was starting to think you were ignoring me,” he spoke in a hushed voice and I could only stare at him. “Good morning.” I blinked. “All good, study partner?”

I blinked again. “What are you doing here?” I whispered and he simply shrugged.

“Studying. Duh.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a really stupid essay to write.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve missed some classes and the teacher won’t give me the credit otherwise. Well, more like all of the classes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s really boring.”

“Why?”

“Because the teacher is an old hag who—“

“Stop,” I snapped eventually, and a few students from the other tables shushed me. “Stop. I don’t care. I mean, why here? Is this some sort of joke to you?”

He brought his hand to a chest and let out a fake gasp. “I’m offended. I take things very seriously, mind you.”

“Paul,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Seriously. I have no idea what it is you’re trying to do here, but I’m sick and tired of these games of yours. All you manage is to piss me off. If you’re trying to get laid, then go look somewhere else because you’ve chosen the wrong girl, mate.”

I had leaned forward across the table, whispering in rage and after my rant, he leaned forward, too, until we were sitting way too close to each other for my liking. It felt like he was invading my comfort zone, but I couldn’t very well back away and give him the satisfaction of having made me step backwards.

“Dawn, have you seen me?” he tilted his head. “Not too sound too cocky—“

“Too late for that,” I cut him off.

“Regardless of that,” he rolled his eyes. “You think I have problems getting laid? The demand on the market is pretty high, I’ll have you know. There’s no problem whatsoever.”

“Then what do you want?” I narrowed my eyes at him and he smirked at me.

“Why do you assume I want something from you, Dimples?”

“Because,” I spoke in a low voice, “I keep running into you everywhere I go. Because you keep getting in my way. Because you’re here now. And because you’d get up and leave otherwise.”

“Fair point,” he clicked his tongue. “Why don’t you?”

“Because this is my spot. I’ve been studying here for years straight. Because when there are rats in the house, you don’t just pack up and leave.”

“Ouch,” he fake pouted. “I’d cry if I weren’t laughing. See, Dimples, you’re just that entertaining. It’s not about getting laid, though I wouldn’t very much mind. It’s about this little sexual tension that gets under my skin. I don’t get that very often. Most of the time, it’s wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

“There’s no sexual tension,” I said exasperatedly. “You’re out of your damn mind. I just want to study.”

He finally leaned back into his chair and I stopped myself from letting out a heavy breath. If this was war, then I had just won this battle.

“Then study,” he opened his book for dramatics. “We’ll just have to cohabitate.”

I rolled my eyes, but admitted that this wasn’t one I could win. He was too stubborn to let it go, whatever reason he had to keep bugging me. And I was not leaving my spot. Problem was, people don’t just learn to cohabitate with rats. I was just gonna have to find a way to chase the rat out of my home.

“Fine,” I conceded for the time being, took my muffin out of my bag and turned my attention to my book. Paul was silent for exactly 45 seconds.

“Next time, though, pick some coffee for me, too. I could use one. What’s that, anyway? Mochaccino? You look like a Mochaccino girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s soy latte. And you can get your own damn coffee. I’m not your errand girl.”

And so it went the whole day long. His best record was 15 minutes without talking. Other than that, I was taken by assault by rude comments or attempts at a small talk I wasn’t willing to make. In fact, I admired myself more than ever right now. I had managed to sit through a whole day by Paul’s side without once trying to murder him, though the thought had crossed my mind more than I’d care to admit. Actually, scratch that. I had acknowledged it out loud, so it’s not like I was afraid to admit it or something. And as a matter of fact, I had even managed to make a pretty solid introduction to my paper and had already started working on its architecture. A good day’s work, all things considered.

~SOUNDTRACK: Major Lazer, The Chainsmokers, Bebe Rexha – Meet you~

I took advantage of Paul being outside for a cigarette, hoping I could sneak out without running into him again. I was already pretty sure this wasn’t the last hellish day he’d put me through, so the less of him, the better. I gathered my books and went on my way, muttering a half-assed ‘Goodbye’ to Miss Parker on my way out.

My nose was so buried into keeping all of my books from slipping that I nearly bumped into Paul. Obviously. Whatever thing up there he prayed to, it must have been a goddess who dug his looks, because there was no logical way he’d be able to do these things.

His arm flew up unexpectedly, connecting with the door case, blocking my way out and causing me to almost stick my nose into his shirt. I don’t think he would’ve disliked that very much.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” he looked down at me, once again way too close for my liking. And as much as I hated to admit it, he smelled amazing. Like expensive perfume and aftershave and mint and cigarettes. I stood my ground, though, trying to ignore the fact that his gaze kept drifting to my lips and that, objectively speaking as a female specimen appreciating a male specimen, his own lips did look way too tempting.

“I was certainly hoping so,” I replied and tried to move past him, but he didn’t remove his hand and all I managed was to close the distance between us even more, feeling his body heat. I resisted the urge to jump backwards a step or two or ten. I was not giving him that satisfaction. If he could be overly arrogant, then he had yet to find out how overly stubborn Dawn Lovelace could get.

“That’s not very nice,” he whispered close to my ear. “I think you value morals too much to let that slide, don’t you? It’s not exactly polite.”

“What do you know about morals?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Not much,” he narrowed his eyes playfully. “Enough not to need any. Enough to outline them in you. Part of what sets us apart. It’s fun to watch.”

“Let me guess. This is the part where you feed me that theory about how opposites attract?”

He got even closer and this time, I couldn’t help but lean backwards away from his touch. He only smirked at my reaction and spoke close enough to my face that I could feel his minty breath hitting my cheek.

“Not at all, Dimples. You wanna know why?”

“Not particularly.”

“Because we’re not exactly opposites, you and I,” he said anyway. “We may have our differences, but we’re not really too different. I’d say we’re very much alike.”

“I refuse to believe that,” I shook my head slightly.

“Deny it all you want. At the end of the day, we want the same things.”

“I highly doubt it,” I still argued. “And what is it you think I want?”

He finally dropped his arm, but didn’t move a single inch away from me and I wasn’t about to break the chain and wave the white flag now.

“New things. Exciting things. An adventure. To stop thinking every once in a while. To break the habit and break some rules just for the sake of something that can get the blood boiling.”

I huffed out a humorless laugh. “You know nothing about me, Paul.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Don’t I?”

“No.”

“My intuition is rarely wrong, Dimples,” he bit his lip lazily. “It has yet to be wrong. I’ve met lots of girls. I’ve met bad girls who enjoyed the excitement of it. I’ve met good girls who had been waiting for someone to turn them bad. And I’ve met good girls who are just plain boring.”

I rolled my eyes. “By all means, enlighten me. Which one am I?”

He stepped closer again and with no little amount of panic, I discovered biology was a sneaky traitor and that my body was learning to respond to his. Electricity buzzed in anticipation when he lifted his fingers and moved a strand of hair away from my eyes. How cliché, my brain said. But my skin was covered in goosebumps. I forced myself to roll my eyes, but my breath still caught in my throat.

“Neither,” he responded in a whisper that was supposed to be sexy; and holy crap, it was. The man knew his shit. “You’re neither.”

“Now you’re just embarrassing yourself,” I whispered back, scared that if I spoke aloud, he’d notice my own voice was a bit charged and the least I wanted was for Paul to get ideas into his head that I had a thing for him. Because I didn’t. It was just my stupid biology betraying me.

“Suit yourself, Dawn. But you’ll see. We’re a lot alike. And I’m having a hard time figuring you out, but I will. I’ll figure out what makes you tick.”

I cleared my throat. “Good luck with that, Paul.”

“Thanks,” he smirked and finally moved out of the way. “So see you tomorrow?”

I let out a groan and walked right past him without replying. I didn’t look back, but I felt his eyes on me, following my moves all the way to my car and until I disappeared out of his sight. And I hated myself for it, but when I got to my dorm, I waited for about five minutes in my car in the parking lot to cool down before walking inside.

 

Hey, guys! How are you enjoying the story so far? I haven’t gotten much feedback yet, but I enjoy the hell out of writing it. These characters are basically begging to be written down and I am having tons of fun outlining them.

Anyway, let me know what you think!

And for those of you who are interested, I have made a Dawn/Paul video (might contain spoilers) that you can find on youtube under the username kiki cosmina.

Lots of love,

xoxo

7: Chapter 6: If you could see me now

CHAPTER 6 – IF YOU COULD SEE ME NOW

~SOUNDTRACK: Fujiya & Miyagi – Uh!~

~Paul’s POV~

I opened my eyes to blinding sunlight. Just the way I hated the hell out of. I groaned and rolled in bed, trying to avert my eyes from the sun and to go back to sleep to avoid thinking about how late for classes I was. But boy, oh boy, was that a bad idea.

See, that’s the thing about constantly avoiding direct confrontation with your issues. They usually keep up and they pick up the pace and they pile up and they fall on top of you and they suffocate you to death. Maybe aunt Lily had a point. Maybe I needed to clean up my mess, said Paul’s conscience as I rolled in bed and found a naked girl by my side, looking at me like I had just proposed.

Which was a fair possibility. Last night at the parlor, Linda and I had had one of those moments of ours when we decided to get totally wasted. And by the looks of it, the naked girl was pretty much my type. Blonde, easy and whatnots. I had to remind Linda to close the parlor before we ever decided to get crazy again. Man, this was not one of my good weeks.

“Um,” I stammered. “Hi. Umm—“ I stumbled through my memories in search of her name. It was definitely something with an A. Aubrey? Alison? Angela?

I saw her face fall and an ugly scowl replaced the beaming expression from earlier. “It’s Samantha.”

Oops. Close enough. “Right. Samantha. Sorry ‘bout that. Last night’s a bit of a blur.”

She must have decided to let one little mistake slip – what was it with girls and standards these days? Because the scowl was gone, too, and she started purring like a kitten, drawing small circles into my bicep.

“It’s okay,” she whispered sultrily. “We had a lot of fun.”

I caught her wrist and stood up, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, Samara—“

“Samantha,” she corrected again, pretty pissed off by now and I mentally slapped myself. Well, what’s a guy supposed to do? If I were to remember the names of all the chicks I hooked up with, how would I have been able to remember all the classes I was failing? Dudes were not programmed like that. It was some sort of mechanism that instantly deleted names I would never again use.

“Samantha,” I said through gritted teeth again, forcing a smile. “So about last night. I guess it was fun. I don’t remember much. But I live with my relatives and I doubt they’ll be too happy to find you here. So you kinda need to leave.”

She huffed in that dramatic outraged way that chicks did in movies. “Unbelievable,” she squealed, standing up and wrapping my sheets around herself. I shushed her, which I guess only managed to piss her off even harder. “So what, you think I’m just some toy? You use me and then you kick me out of the house like a dog in the morning? I’m worth more than that!”

“My heart breaks for you,” I tossed her a bra. Also, I didn’t tell her so, but had I been sober enough, she wouldn’t have been here now. My female guests never slept over. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to preserve himself against these leeches that wanted to suck the love out of you. Five or six hours of sleep in the same bed are like an incubator for them that breeds thirst for commitment. Women were truly terrifying beasts.

She put on her pink top and her mini skirt. Oh, yeah. Definitely my type. Though, now that I thought about it, it happened before I even had time to process it that a small head with a brown ponytail and a tiny figure in a purple sweater popped into my head. Not blonde. Not tall and skinny. And I definitely couldn’t picture her wearing a pink top and a mini skirt, and not for lack of trying. Huh. Guess my type had some malfunctions.

Anyway.

“Come on,” I told her as I put on pants and a somewhat clean T-shirt. “I’ll show you out.”

She grabbed her purse and flipped her hair here and there, but all in all kept quiet, which was more than I could ask of her. The last thing I needed was uncle Ross poking around and asking about my nights and lecturing me about responsibility. So we tiptoed down the stairs of the mansion and made it to the front door without any trouble.

“’Kay,” I said as she walked out. “Bye, Samantha.”

She placed her hand on the door and stopped me from closing it, looking at me through her lashes in a lousy attempt at seduction, I presumed. Maybe she’d gotten ideas from me getting her name right. See, talk about standards.

“So,” she bit her lip. “Call me later?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes so hard they would’ve popped out of me eye sockets. Did she have no self-respect? I had practically made it overly clear that I had no interest in her. I was in the process of throwing her out of my house. But I controlled myself and shot her a tight smile instead.

“Sure,” I lied smoothly. “I’ll call you. Bye.”

She beamed. “Bye.”

I closed the door behind her and let out a relieved sigh, resting my forehead against it. Crisis averted.

“Why did your friend leave so early, Paul? We would’ve loved to meet her over breakfast.”

“Jesus Christ,” I flinched at the voice behind me, feeling my heart skip a beat. I turned around to find uncle Ross and aunt Lily watching me judgmentally and shaking their heads in disappointment. Oh boy, was I in it this time.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Script – If you could see me now~

“Seriously, guys, you’re overreacting.”

I paced back and forth through the living room as Ross and Lily patted their coffee table.

“I’m 23,” I argued. “I’m not a kid anymore. And I know you feel responsible for me, but I think I’m old enough to deal with my own crap. So I’ve had a girl over. It’s not like I’m 15 anymore.”

Uncle Ross cleared his throat. “What about the rest of them?”

“What?” I frowned, playing dumb.

“The other girls, Paul,” he sighed and took off his glasses. “Just because we don’t catch you sneaking them out every time, it doesn’t mean we don’t hear them doing the walk of shame down the stairs most nights.”

I sighed and rubbed my face. “Guys—“ I tried, but Ross cut me off.

“No, Paul—“

“Ross,” aunt Lily cut him off, too. “I got this.”

Uh oh.

She placed a hand on his arm and I could see my uncle’s shoulders dropping in defeat. He let out a loud sigh and shot me a warning look before walking out of the room. Aunt Lily walked over to me and caught my face in her palms. And if I could take uncle Ross’ scolding and his endless lectures, Lily was a trained guilt assassin. Two sentences from her, a pat on a back, pursed lips and a disappointment tear rolling down her cheek and she had me eating out of her palm. She played me well.

It was absurd, really. Aunt Lily was short, shorter than Dawn, even. Maybe shorter than Dawn’s pink-haired best friend forever. Her hair was gray and her hands were wrinkly and her voice wasn’t shrill or demanding. She was a sweet lady in her 50s who had gotten stuck with a troublemaking kid by the time she had already accepted the fact that she couldn’t have kids of her own. And while I respected uncle Ross for the fortune he’d built for himself, aunt Lily I loved from the bottom of my heart for how much effort she’d put into raising me.

Aunt Lily was my mother’s older sister. When mom and dad had died in a car crash when I was 11, she’d been stuck with me. Well, she had specifically asked for my custody, but I don’t picture it was easy, having an angry kid like myself on your hands at the time. Because I hadn’t taken my parents’ death well, as no regular kid would’ve. I was angry. I rebelled. My teenage years were pretty ugly. I felt like nothing around me truly belonged to me. Ross and Lily were ridiculously rich, but I wasn’t their kid. I was some dead people’s kid. Yeah, those were the ugly years. Come to think about it, Lily had been absurdly patient with me. She sat there through my identity crisis and she’d been there as I walked out of it. She’d licked my wounds like a protective momma bear. Like a lioness. And with her help and her love and her support, given the consequences, I’d say I’d turned out pretty good.

So having her standing before me looking so disappointed was a low blow. The lowest of the blows. I’d have taken my uncle’s lectures any day over her guilt trips.

“Paul, what are you doing?” she whispered and I caught her wrists, smiling playfully.

“Oh please, Lily,” I rolled my eyes. “She was just a girl. It’s not like you guys were completely oblivious to—“

“Not that, honey,” she cut in. “It’s not just that. You’re right. You’re 23, you’re a big boy and you can take care of yourself. So then, why do I feel like I’m back to 6 or 7 years ago when you were in high school? Do I need to search your pockets for weed every day again?”

Would’ve been awkward if she did. My phone, my wallet, my cigarettes and my weed were the stuff that I always had in my pockets. “’Course not. I’m not really getting what it is you’re both busting my ass for.”

“Paul,” she tilted her head. “You can sell this crap to Ross all you want. But don’t lie to me. I was always your ally. But, honey, you’ve made it through pre-law. I was starting to figure I could loosen my grip on you and let you build your own path. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted? To build a name for yourself?”

“I do,” I mumbled through my teeth. “I do want that still.”

How could I not? Everything I had was theirs. This huge mansion. My Jaguar. My classes were paid for by them. I didn’t own a single pair of socks that wasn’t paid for by them. I was Paul Rixon, but I was my uncle’s nephew first. And I wanted to be Paul Rixon first. Lily knew that.

“Then what are you doing? You don’t go to classes. You lose nights at that tattoo place. You bring a different girl home every night. It’s not like you’re not even trying anymore.”

I sighed. When she put it like that, I could help but admit she was right.

“Okay,” I rubbed my face. “Okay, I guess you have a point. I’ve been a bit careless lately.”

“Yes, honey, I’ve noticed,” she mocked me. “But why? Is there something you want to talk about? Paul, you know I’m here for you, right?”

I patted her hand and smiled at her reassuringly. “I know. But I’m fine. It’s just—“ I took a deep breath and sat on the couch. “I’ve been a bit angry. Some teenage rebellion residues, I guess. You know, Lily, this year is the 12^th anniversary of my parents’ death. On New Year’s Eve.” She squeezed my shoulder. She knew. Of course she knew. She’d lost a sister the same day I’d lost my mom. “And I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing in 12 years. I don’t think they’d like what their son turned into.”

“Oh, honey,” Lily exclaimed and caught my face in her palms, forcing me to face her. “You’re joking. Paul, you’re just getting started. You’re on your way to becoming a successful lawyer. Barbara and Timothy would be so proud of you right now. Don’t ever doubt that.”

I did. Every day. But she didn’t need to know that. I was past all that rage that had driven me through my teenage years. I had meant what I had told them just now. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I could work through my own shit. So I shot Lily a tight smile and patted her knee.

“Thanks, Lily,” I told her and I stood up. “Now I gotta get going. I’ve got an essay to write that’s due in two days.” And a certain girl to stalk into going out with me. “You know, being responsible and all that.”

Aunt Lily laughed and hugged me. “Praise the Lord should such a miracle come to happen.”

I hugged her with one arm and rolled my eyes. “Gee, great vote of confidence, aunt Lily. See you later. Bye.”

“Bye, honey.”

I smiled at her one more time before walking back upstairs to my room. I changed quickly and made the plan for the day. The library. But first, I had to make one more stop.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Marc Scibilia – How bad we need each other~

The cafeteria lady looked at me expectantly, stomping her foot. Well, I’d been at it for a while and I still couldn’t make up my mind. They all looked exactly the same. How was I supposed to know which one she’d like?

“Sir, there’s a line forming behind you,” the lady with the hair net and a mole above her upper lip said. “What’s it gonna be?”

I sighed and pointed at one of the muffins on display. “That one. Wrap that one to go.”

“The blueberry one?”

I shrugged. “I guess.” It looked like the one Dawn had been eating yesterday. They were all muffins, for crying out loud. It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? I was having an epiphany of some sorts, so knowing me, the thought did count if it came from the world champion of thoughtlessness, I guess.

I got the muffing and the soy latte – wondering what kind of sicko drank soy latte – and made my way out of the cafeteria and to the library. I don’t know what had me so worked up about Dawn Lovelace. Another epiphany of this morning had been realizing she was nothing like the girls I usually went for. And by that I mean she wasn’t easy in any way. And she hated my guts. I had no idea why I kept wasting my time like that and why I put so much effort into something I had no shot at. And yet, here I was. Muffin and soy latte. Ugh. I must have enjoyed the chase quite a lot. You see, us men are pretty dumb like that. If something’s too easy to obtain, we don’t want it anymore. But flash a version of some forbidden fruit in front of our eyes and we turn into rabid dogs.

I smiled at Miss Parker as I entered the library and she shot me that grimace of hers. I made my way to Dawn’s usual spot, putting on my best smile and holding my good-will token smugly. But when I got there, I found her seat empty. Huh. Now this was a possibility I had failed to consider. I’d been so sure she’d be here.

I sighed and pursed my lips, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do with the muffin and the coffee now. The place in front of her where I’d sat the past few days was now taken, and without Dawn to torture, there wasn’t really any point in me sticking around. I could just as well work on my essay from home. Show Ross and Lily how responsible I could be. I looked from the muffin to her seat and back to the muffin.

Eventually, I rolled my eyes and sighed, turning to the guy sitting in my spot.

“Hey, man,” I told him in a low voice and he raised his head. “You got a pen and a piece of paper?”

“Sure. Here.”

I took the paper and the pen from him and I placed the muffin and the latte on the table where Dawn sat. Then I scribbled a few words on the paper, put the note under the latte and returned the pen to the guy studying.

“Thanks, bro.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “Are those for Dawn Lovelace?”

I frowned and tilted my head, smiling in surprise. Turns out Dimples was quite popular around the nerds.

“Yeah,” I replied. “You know her?”

“Yeah, vaguely. We study together from time to time. And by together I mean in approximate vicinity,” he smiled at a joke I didn’t get. “Are you her boyfriend?”

I blinked for a few seconds, then burst out laughing, causing a few student to shush me. Boyfriend. Oh God. The poor guy clearly had no idea who he was talking to. Paul Rixon didn’t do relationships. Dawn Lovelace’s boyfriend. Oh, the irony. How could I even begin to explain Mr. Thick Glasses here the process of trying to get in a girl’s pants?

“You’re a funny guy,” I said through chuckles. “I’m no one’s boyfriend, pal. Just do me a favor and tell Dawn Paul Rixon says hi. And try not to be in her punching range when you say it. Peace out, bro.”

I walked away laughing still and shaking my head. Paul Rixon, a boyfriend. As if.

8: Chapter 7: Not the kind of drum you play one time

CHAPTER 7 – NOT THE KIND OF DRUM YOU PLAY ONE TIME

~SOUNDTRACK: Marian Hill – Whiskey~

~Dawn’s POV~

Take these as a gesture of good will. Your move, Lovelace. Here’s my number. I expect a ‘thank you’ text and a formal invitation to dinner.

The little note still rested in my pocket. I’d come pretty close to throwing it away all day yesterday. I still had no idea why I hadn’t. Needless to say, I hadn’t texted him and I wasn’t going to, but as I held the little piece of paper over the trash can, every single damn time, I let out a sigh and shoved it back in my pocket. It bugged the hell out of me. I should’ve gotten rid of it as soon as I found it on my desk. And it bugged the hell out me that I had actually smiled at the muffin and the latte.

But then I remembered they were from douche Paul. And while the smile didn’t disappear completely, it grew weaker. Then he also graced me with his absence for the whole day. And I was so happy about it, enjoying the silence and ignoring the way my eyes drifted towards the door from time to time. Yup, studying alone surely felt good.

“Yo,” Aria snapped her fingers in front of my eyes and I shook my head. “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “I was just thinking.”

She turned to me and wiggled her eyebrow. “Is it about a certain tall and brooding douche?”

I rolled my eyes. Well, it was, but she didn’t need to know that. “No. I was thinking about how late to class you made me.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. We were walking to class from out dorms together since our schedules happened to overlap. But naturally, while I was ready five minutes early, Aria was fifteen minutes late.

“Whatever,” she huffed. “You didn’t have to wait for me. We have different classes anyway and we live in different dorms. You just wanted to debrief me on the Pete situation.” I opened my mouth to ask about that, but she was quick to shush me. “Which I’m not giving you details about. Serves you right for being on my case earlier.”

“Jerk,” I rolled my eyes and she fell unusually silent. I frowned and turned to look at her just to find her smirking from ear to ear, staring straight ahead.

“What do ya know,” she muttered. “Karma’s a bitch.”

I followed her gaze and let out a groan when I noticed douche Paul a few feet away from us, leaning against his Jaguar without a care in the world. Aria and I closed the distance between us and him shortly enough.

“Ladies,” he greeted. “Hurricane, looking good. Haven’t seen you in a while. My boy Pete won’t shut up about you.”

I noticed a smug grin on Aria’s face that she was quick to hide. “Is that so?” she played coy.

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t intervene and Paul turned to me next. “Dawn,” he grinned. “How did you enjoy my peace offering?”

I refused to answer, partly because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting I had enjoyed his little peace offering, as he put it. Suddenly, the little note in my pocket felt heavy and my hand instinctively flew to it. Paul followed my motion and he must have put two and two together because he broke into a wide grin. I glared and luckily for him, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he extended a hand towards me and only now did I notice he was holding a coffee cup from the cafeteria. I blinked.

“Latte?” he tilted his head like a puppy. “Soy, just like you like it.”

I heard Aria chuckle under her breath, not even bothering to hide it. Thus I didn’t even bother to glare at her. All in all, as much as I hated Paul’s guts, it was a nice gesture. Of good will, as he’d put it. The note still felt heavy in my pocket. I took the coffee from him, trying my best not to look impressed in the slightest.

“What, no muffin?” I put on a bitchy smile and he laughed, shaking his head. Then he dared to wink at me and, despite myself, I blushed a little.

“Wouldn’t wanna spoil you now, would I?” he asked and I rolled my eyes dramatically

Before he could say anything else, I moved past him heading for my class. I heard him call ‘See you later’ over his shoulder and I could swear I heard Aria high fiving him, but I didn’t stick around to see how that went. Of course Aria got along well with douche Paul. They both had that troublemaker aura about themselves that lured you in and screwed you up. And while I felt bad for poor Pete for falling into my sister’s spider web, I was far from falling into Paul’s.

~SOUNDTRACK: Jace Everett – Bad things~

~Paul’s POV~

I watched Dawn Lovelace walk away and I loved to watch her go. There was something insanely entertaining and alluring about her small sweater-covered posture and her angrily storming off like a cute little pissed off hamster. It made me want to push every one of her buttons to see how long it took to break her, to make her snap. Maybe aunt Lily was right. Maybe I did need therapy. But I did look after her grinning, until she became a small dot in the distance. I sighed. One day.

I finally turned around just to find Aria still standing there, looking at me through narrowed eyes and tapping her foot, but a sly grin playing across her lips that put off my worry about how she was gonna castrate me on the spot.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I shrugged, barely able to contain my smile and totally guilty.

“I don’t know, Rixon,” she tilted her head pensively. “It looks like you were totally staring at my sister’s ass, you little perv. And you were totally caught in the act.”

I hugged, feigning indignation. “Was not,” I defended myself, but needless to say, she didn’t look too convinced.

“Were too. But it’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”

This time, I couldn’t help but laugh. “What secret? That I like butts and your sister happens to have one? Not as smooth a criminal as you claim to be, Hurricane.”

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, yeah? Silly me. And here I thought you were in it to win it, bro.”

“Not at all,” I laid back against my car, crossing my arms over my chest. “This was all butt-related. Haven’t you heard? Men are pigs.”

“Then you’re out of luck,” she mirrored my pose. “Dawn’s a vegan.”

This time I laughed whole-heartedly, throwing my head back. I liked Hurricane. I liked her a lot. She was carefree and quirky and annoying enough to pass for my little sister. I related to her too much for any of our sakes. And I feared she was quite a handful for my boy Pete to handle.

“Dang,” I hissed playfully. “Not my lucky month. Why are you so concerned about the nature of my relationship with Dawn anyway?”

She turned to me scowling and slapped my shoulder once. “Because she’s my sister, you idiot. I’m being protective. She’s a little red riding hood and you’re the big bad wolf.” I blinked at her and how serious she looked and she eventually cracked up. “Who am I kidding? Dawn is anything but helpless. And I actually happen to like you, Rixon. You’re a fair candidate to pull that stick out of my sister’s ass.”

I frowned at her. “Thanks, I guess?”

She laughed out loud, snorting. “For real, dude. Dawn’s a great gal, but she’s so fond of her comfort zone, it’s ridiculous.” She turned to look at me, looking serious for maybe the first time since I’d met her. “Maybe you’re the guy to shake things up a little for her.”

I pursed my lips. Well, it was a stretch, to be fair. I didn’t wanna rock her world – though considering I’m Paul Rixon, that part would be inevitable. In all honesty, I wasn’t even sure what I wanted from Dawn Lovelace. I didn’t just wanna nail her, though I would not have minded that at all. But I didn’t want any way, shape or form of commitment with her, either. Paul Rixon doesn’t do relationships. And whatever I wanted from Dawn, I’d figure it out on the spot. For now, I was happy with saying whatever Hurricane wanted to hear that would get me closer to my goal – even though I wasn’t sure what that was yet.

“So all aboard ship Paul and Dawn?” I smirked at her. “Good to know you’re in my corner. You can start by giving me her number.”

She snorted and laughed in my face. “Nice try, dude. Nice try. Valid effort. Smooth as hell.”

I rolled my eyes. I should’ve known she’d see through my schemes. Takes a player to know a player. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am,” she admitted. “I can’t wait to see where this goes and who pushes whose buttons and who explodes first. I think you’re just what she needs. But that doesn’t mean I’m suicidal enough to stick my nose in it. Have you met my sister?”

I chuckled. I had to admit, hell would probably rain over Hurricane’s head if I texted Dawn today and she learned that it had been her sister who’d sold her out.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” I clicked my tongue and, before she could reply, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I took it out and opened a text from Pete.

Just got out of class. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in five.

Huh. I looked sideways at Hurricane. This was bound to get interesting.

~SOUNDTRACK: Tove Lo – Talking body (Rendition) by SoMo~

I was about to text him back and stall Hurricane until he got here, but just then, I noticed him making his way towards us. I didn’t get to see Hurricane’s expression, but the moment Pete’s eyes fell on her, I swear I could hear the sound of his breath being knocked out of him.

He gulped before speaking. “Hurricane.”

I finally turned to Hurricane, taking a step back to watch the exchange without interfering. All I needed was some popcorn, seeing as I had front row seats to the show.

“Peter,” she smirked at him and I noticed Pete struggling to pull himself back together. It had been easier that night back at the races, when he’d had enough time to muster the courage to go talk to her. And even after half an hour of courage-mustering, I had still had to drag him in front of her. This time, being caught off guard, I could see he wasn’t sure how to put on that confident mask without putting Hurricane off. And he wanted so badly for her to think he was confident and badass. Hurricane, however, looked at him seeing him for who he was. A puppy. And she was enjoying it. God, I had to get Pete to teach me this puppy trick.

“H-Hi… Umm… It’s good, I mean, umm… To see… Umm, hi.”

And now it was just painful to watch.

Hurricane stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest, but she didn’t look like she had any intention to speak or to help him. And neither did I. This was the funniest situation I’d ever seen Pete in. Eventually, he took a deep breath and looked straight into her eyes.

“Hi,” he spoke fiercely, surprising me, Hurricane and maybe himself, too.

“Hi,” Hurricane smiled up at him.

“Good to see you,” he continued just as fierce.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Hurricane replied and a small smile played over his lips. Well, what do you know? My boy Pete must have been some sort of robot because, otherwise, I can’t imagine how he’d turn into a totally different person in a matter of seconds. Was there a hidden button he pressed?

“I think you were supposed to say ‘Good to see you, too’,” he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I thought I made it clear rules don’t apply to me,” Hurricane replied. “And besides, maybe it’s not that good to see you. Don’t oversell yourself.”

Pete bit his lip lazily. Oh, smooth move. Knowing Pete, he probably wasn’t even aware of doing it and it came as a natural anxiety response. But I saw Hurricane’s eyes flying fast enough to his lips Pete didn’t have time to catch it and I knew he was in it to win it.

“I don’t buy that.” Pun on point. I was a proud papa. “Might as well save yourself the embarrassment and admit it.”

Hurricane chuckled. “Now you made sure I’ll never admit it.”

“Never is a strong word,” Pete shrugged. “But it’s okay. I’ve got time. We can start over that drink you owe me.”

Hurricane didn’t answer right away. They just stood there looking at each other for a few seconds, letting the tension build. Eventually, she stepped forward and leaned in to whisper something into his ear. I couldn’t hear what she told him, but I saw Pete’s face grow redder by the second and at some point, I was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing. Hurricane stepped backwards, smiling sideways and turned around to wink at me.

“Bye, Paul,” she said and started walking away without another word.

I blinked at Pete, who stood there still as a statue, wide-eyed. I extended my arms at him, waiting for him to explain. He gulped and looked at me almost terrified.

“Well?” I prompted. “What did she say to you?”

“She, umm… She said I still have to earn it. “

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s all? Because she must have talked in slow motion then. And you’re red as Santa’s butt, my friend.”

He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hear, the tips of his ears still flushed. “She also said that, by the time I’ll have earned it, there’s extra… um, bonus, coming with the drinks. And that’s all I’m offering.”

As soon as he finished the sentence, he turned around and jumped into the passenger’s seat without waiting for my answer. It took me a second, but as soon as it registered, I burst out into obnoxious laughter. Oh yeah. It was definitely the puppy eyes.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Verite – Underdressed~

After sitting through endless hours of stupid classes, my day was well ruined. I was pretty sure aunt Lily was proud as hell of me by now. And not taking my chances with it, I texted her to let her now and even sent her a photo of me. In class. With an actual text book open in front of me.

It was well past noon when I started making my way to the library, this time keen on actually studying, seeing as I’d been here for half of this week and hadn’t even gotten started on my essay. The Dawn Lovelace effect. And I could blame this bickering of ours and her distracting me all I wanted, but when I walked inside the library and noticed she wasn’t there, I could help but be a little disappointed. So much for hoping for some more entertainment to turn my afternoon around.

I made my way towards her table and sat down into my usual seat. Her things were there, so she must have stepped away for a while. All for the best. I prepared myself for the look on her face when she’d find me here. I even opened my books and started working on an introduction and I was at it for quite some minutes when I raised my eyes and they fell straight on her phone. Sitting right there, in front of me, luring me in. Tempting me. Begging me to sin. What was I supposed to do? There’s only so much will power a guy can have.

I didn’t waste a breath before grabbing it and shoving it subtly into my pocket, making sure nobody saw me. I needed some discretion for part two of my plan.

Just then, she walked in and made her way towards her table, not bothering to offer more than a glare as she slid into her seat. Huh. Disappointing.

“I was at least expecting a death threat,” I told her so.

She sighed. “I’ve made peace with the fact that you’ve been sent by the ancient furies to torment me for whatever sins I’ve committed in my past lives.”

I laughed. “Now that’s more like it. But don’t worry, I’m here to study for real this time,” I pointed at the book.

“Unlikely,” she said with her nose buried in her own book. I waited for maybe ten seconds before speaking again.

“Unless you have some other ideas—“

“No.”

I let her be this time and, minutes later, she even looked up surprised at how silent I was and how focused on my essay. I tried not to take it as a personal offense and looked back at her playing innocent. She frowned and turned her attention back on the book. Her phone still rested in my pocket and, to be fair, I was starting to grow restless. How much does it take a person to notice their phone is missing? I usually checked mine five or six times during the time span we’d just spent here since she’d walked in.

Surely so, eventually, I looked up from my book to find her frantically searching around through her papers and exhaling through her nose angrily. I tried not to snicker at the sight and cleared my throat.

“Lost something?” I asked with the most innocent look I could pull off and she sighed.

“My phone. I must have left it in my last class. I’ll go see if I can find it.”

I think she was talking more to herself than to me, because she stood up without even looking my way and walked away. The opportunity was just perfect. As soon as she was out of sight, I pulled out her phone and opened contacts. I chuckled a little at how organized even her contacts list was. There was a picture for every contact and their full name listed. OCD much? I typed my number quickly and ‘Hot Paul’ for name with a winky face. Pete and his emojis were rubbing off on me. I even took a quick selfie to add as a contact picture and clicked save. Then I dialed it so that I could have her number, too and that was it. Mission accomplished.

I grabbed my books and stood up, because I clearly didn’t want to be around for this when she came back. I happened to like my balls just where they were. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled ‘Since you can’t take a hint’ with another winky face, placed it on top of her book and put her phone over it.

Finally, I put my sunglasses on and walked out of the library, thinking that, all in all, this had been a good day. And it was gonna be an even better weekend.

9: Chapter 8: You look like my next mistake

CHAPTER 8 – YOU LOOK LIKE MY NEXT MISTAKE

~Dawn’s POV~

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift – Blank space~

This was supposed to be a good weekend. It was my weekend. I’d been looking forward to this weekend all week long. I was supposed to spend it at my parents’ house with Aria, to just have a quiet family weekend free of any drama.

Yeah, right.

I don’t know what I’d done to upset the stars I was so in love with. They were supposed to be my allies. We’d been friends for so many years. Why would they decide to align just well enough to fuck up my entire week like this? It was like a stab in the back.

It had all started on Friday with me losing my phone. Although losing wouldn’t precisely describe what happened to my phone. Misplaced? No, that one either. So this Friday, my phone was stolen from me. And it took me a while to glue the pieces together, but when I got the first text, it dawned on me.

So when I went all the way to the building where I’d had my last class and my phone wasn’t there, I started panicking. So, naturally, I looked for it everywhere for the rest of the day and eventually made my way back to the library to grab my books and head back to my dorm. And there it was, with a note underneath it that said ‘Since you can’t take a hint’, and I was so happy to see it that it didn’t even register. The note, its absence, its sudden appearance out of thin air.

And then Friday night came. I was already at my parents’ house, lying in my bed from my old bedroom with a cup of hot cocoa in my hand that only my mom knew how to make, soft jazz tunes playing in my headphones. I was working on another paper that was due next week and I was pretty concentrated, since this one was going to affect half of my final grade. I started a little when the jazz stopped for a second and my phone buzzed with a text. I was sure it was Mandy or any of my classmates needing my help with the paper, so I rolled my eyes and opened the text.

Watcha doin’?, it said.

I frowned at it and I barely had time to register what my eyes read as a contact name. Two seconds passed. Then three. Then ten. I blinked.

Hot Paul.

The wheels in my head spun and I must have been in some sort of denial, because I refused to acknowledge it.

Oh no.

Oh, hell no.

I opened the contact and then his picture and my nightmare suddenly felt disconcertingly real. Because from the contact photo stared right back at me douche Paul, grinning from ear to ear with that smug smirk of his I so often found myself wanting to punch off.

Oh, but it was real.

It suddenly all came together. My phone’s absence, the note. ‘Since you can’t take a hint’. Oh, that son of a bitch.

I let out a huff and threw the phone back on the bed, face down and went back to working on my paper. Douche Paul was not about to ruin my weekend even when he wasn’t there. I put away all of my bad energy and, while I didn’t manage to be as productive as I was before being blinded with rage, it was still going pretty well.

And then my phone buzzed again.

I shut my eyes tight and wished that damn text away. I knew it didn’t work that way. All my life, I’d studied probabilities and science and the universe and I was well aware that it’s absurd to wish upon dense balls of gas and energy that were probably dead by the time their light reached us. Yeah, I was fun at parties. But still, I tried. I put all of my energy praying for the universe to change whatever magnetic waves he wanted to so that his text wouldn’t pop up on my phone when I unlocked it.

Then I opened my eyes and I unlocked it. And it was still there.

For someone who’s so adamant about her precious morals, I’ll have you know it’s not very polite to ignore someone so good-willed such as myself.

I huffed again. Ha. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said he had quite the skills to talk his way around people. And I did know better. So I still didn’t reply and went back to my paper. But with every text I got from him, my motivation just kept running dry.

You’re pretty stubborn, did you know that?

I just got my answer. But it’s okay. You’ve met your match. You be stubborn, I’ll be perseverant.

So I’d like to see how much it takes to break you. You’ll snap eventually. You’ll give in to my gravity.

See what I did there? Gravity? I’m speaking your language ;) Do I get credit for trying?

Thought so. Anyway, pick your instrument of torture. Puns, lame pick-up lines or really bad jokes?

Fine, I’ll pick for you. Puns it is.

I groaned out loud and threw myself backwards on the bed, with my pillow over my face. If I was lucky enough, I’d maybe smother myself to death and free myself from this torment. And I wouldn’t need to finish my paper this way. Win-win.

I heard a knock on the door before I could test my theory and I removed the pillow from my face, looking up to see Aria standing in my doorway.

“Boring nerd paper kicking your ass?” she asked and I frowned.

“No. It just so happens that a tall brooding douche has found a way to sneak into my weekend uninvited,” I held up the phone and she snickered, pulling her face in a weird way I couldn’t pin point. I told myself there was something off about her, when I realized something. “You knocked,” I frowned and she shrugged, lingering in the doorway with a guilty expression on her face. Uh oh. “Aria. What did you do?”

She faked a gasp. “How dare you? Why must I always be your scape goat? I’m the most innocent person you’ll ever meet.”

I groaned. “Aria—“

Finally, she broke her façade a little and winked at me before disappearing down the hall. “Let’s just say this is gonna be an interesting dinner.”

~SOUNDTRACK: Jill Scott – Run run run~

I groaned and stood up from my bed, feeling a little scared by now to go down to dinner, but I gathered my courage and stood up eventually. My phone buzzed one last time as I went out the door and I stopped in the doorway, feeling my blood pressure rise by the second. But whatever he said, I was not giving in. So I squared my shoulders and walked out of my room, ignoring my buzzing phone completely.

My parents smiled brightly at me as I walked into the kitchen and I felt a smile of my own in return. I would never underestimate the therapeutic effect that being at home had on me. It was my safe haven in every way. Even if I was slowly building a life for myself out there and I did spend less and less time with my folks these days, here’s where I was at my best, still. And the way my parents’ eyes lit up when the four of us had dinner together got to me every time. Sometimes, it takes so little to make someone happy.

“What’re we having?” I asked mom before kissing her cheek.

“Take a guess,” she smiled and I rolled my eyes at Aria’s ridiculously wide grin.

“It’s lasagna, isn’t it?”

Aria cheered. Of course it was. Mom took turns in making our favorite dishes every time we came home for the weekend, so seeing as we’d had my favorite kind of pasta last week, it was only fair for Aria to get her lasagna.

We helped dad set the table and chatted for a while about our semester and I completely forgot whether there was anything I was worried about. Having dinner with my family, here and now, went beyond whatever issue bothered me because it took me back to when Aria and I were little, and we thought we were invincible because our parents had our backs. It fazed me every time how much I wanted for everything to still be so simple.

“So, Dawn,” my mom smirked at me with that smirk that Aria had inherited from her; the one that meant trouble. “Aria tells me there’s a new man in your life.”

I stopped chewing. Maybe even breathing. I looked sideways at Aria with tints of red in my peripheral vision that usually meant murder. So this was what she’d been so cryptic about. The little bitch had ratted me out. I turned to my parents with a look that I hoped betrayed nothing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shoved some more lasagna into my mouth.

Dad huffed. “Your mom lies better than you. And she’s a terrible liar.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Traitor. What happened to him always having my back? “I’m not lying. There isn’t. No man whatsoever.”

“But Aria said—“ mom tried, but I cut her off.

“Aria should keep her pretty mouth shut.”

I shot my sister a killer look, but when I looked back at my mom, she was practically beaming. “So there is a guy!”

“Ugh, mom—“

“What was his name again, Aria? Patrick, Pablo? Or was it Perry?”

I ran my hands over my face in frustration and let out a loud groan. “It’s Paul, mom!” I snapped. “His name is douche Paul. And he’s no one. Clearly not worth mentioning.”

“Well,” my dad chewed thoughtfully. “You did mention him.”

“You guys are unbelievable,” I narrowed my eyes at them.

“And douche Paul?” mom shook her head at me. “That’s not a very nice way to talk about a potential love interest.”

“Love interest?” I screeched incredulously.

“Leslie, remember when she was in second grade and she had a crush on Aaron? Oh, she tormented the poor kid. He wasn’t paying enough interest to her so she went all Nazi on him, claiming she couldn’t stand him rather than admit she liked him.”

“Dad—“

“All I’m saying is,” he raised his hands defensively, “history speaks for itself.”

“Guys, this is seriously nothing like that.”

It was actually an entirely different story. Aaron and I had been friends throughout school and to this day. We’d gone to school together and my silly crush on him from back in the day was something we often laughed about. Aaron was a sweet guy and had been sweet back then, too. Every girl in our class had a kid’s crush on him, and how could you not? We were great friends, but when I realized I had to compete with half of my class for his attention, I may or may not have taken it out on him. Aggressively. Like I said, we still laughed about it now that we were both in college and had over 15 years of friendship behind us.

“Sure it isn’t, sweetie,” my mom chuckled. “Just remember, you won’t be this young and pretty forever.”

“God, mom!” I exclaimed, unable to hold in my laughter at realizing how much fun they were making of me. “You guys are impossible.”

“It’s our job,” dad winked at me, and I shook my head at both of them.

“But tell us,” mom prompted me. “What about this Paul guy?”

I sighed and looked over at Aria to see that she was enjoying this exchange like a kid on a Christmas morning. Oh, but there was payback to be delivered.

“Not much to be said,” I shrugged at my mom. “He’s just a guy who’s been hitting on me for a while and that I’ve been rejecting. Seems like he can’t take a hint.”

“And why are you rejecting him? You won’t be this—“

“Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes. “I won’t be this young and pretty forever. I got the message, mom. But I’d rather end up a cat lady than with someone like douche Paul.”

“That bad, huh?” dad intervened.

I thought about it. Like, for the briefest of seconds, I allowed myself to actually think about it. Was Paul really that bad or was I judging the book by its cover? Needless to say, you’re unlikely to find a good book under a leathery cover smelling like booze and cigarettes and with profanities written all over it. That was Paul Rixon’s cover. It was possible that I was wrong about him. That I refused to see past the arrogant prick and to learn whether there was something more to him. But then again, the arrogant prick was a pretty thick shell and pretty hard to see past. So I may I was wrong about him. But maybe I was right.

“Yeah,” I made up my mind. “Yeah, that bad. He’s a bad boy and I’d like to think I know better than that.” I watched my parents nod in approval then I shot Aria a warning look before I dropped the bomb. “His friend is really nice, though. The kind of sweet guy moms love for their daughter. His name’s Pete. I bet Aria can tell you a lot about him.”

Without waiting for the aftermath of my words and totally enjoying the way Aria’s eyes widened at the mention of Pete, I stood up, placed my plate in the sink and kissed both my mom and dad before heading upstairs.

Served her right.

~SOUNDTRACK: Zayn feat. Taylor Swift – I don’t wanna live forever~

Needless to say, when I unlocked my phone, I had 11 new text messages from Paul. Eleven. This guy was relentless. I groaned internally and opened them just to see he’d flooded my inbox with puns. Really, really bad puns.

So I was thinking, I wasn’t sure what the big deal about your name was. And then it Dawn-ed on me ;)

Damn, I shouldn’t have opened with my best one. Now the rest of them are just gonna seem a-Paul-ing ;)

Nothing yet? Shit, that was my best work, woman. I mean, they don’t call me Peter Pun for nothing ;)

And eight more of those. And another five in the next half hour. Eventually, I turned off my phone.

Saturday, he decided it would be a good day for bad jokes. And when I said bad jokes, I mean, illegally terrible jokes.

Hey, Dimples. What’s red and bad for your teeth? ….. A brick.

A ham sandwich walks into a bar and orders a beer. Bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve food here.”

How do you make holy water? You boil the hell out of it.

It still annoyed the hell out of me, but by the fifteenth one, they started getting chuckles out of me. I told myself it had nothing to do with Paul, that these jokes were so bad they were starting to feel good. But every now and then, Paul threw in a silly emoji, or he started commenting on his own jokes like they do football games and then I told myself his little one-sided dialogue was funny for being so sad.

Then came Sunday, and it was the time for bad pick-up lines.

So, are you religious? Cause you’re the answer to my prayers.

You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy ;)

What’s the difference between a Ferrari and a boner? I don’t have a Ferrari ;)

So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?

I rolled my eyes at most of them, but I lost it at the last one. By then, my inbox was full of exactly 76 text messages from him. I was literally. Out of my mind. Because there’s no reasonable explanation for why I did what I did. But I took out my phone, typed in a few words and hit send.

Looking for a way out.

I regretted the choice as soon as I saw that tiny tick sign in the corner of my text box that let me know my message had been sent. Oh God. I must have truly been out of my mind. His reply came not half a minute later.

It speaks!!!

I rolled my eyes, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Did I wanna play this game with him? My brain screamed no. This was Paul Rixon. He thought he could get girls via puns, bad jokes and kinky pick-up lines. This was Paul. Rixon. Douche Paul. I wasn’t going to start texting douche Paul. I had more common sense than that. I had just reassured my parents that he was a dickhead who deserved not an ounce of my attention.

So yeah, my brain knew all that. But after his next text came, my fingers typed in a reply almost automatically.

Come on, Dimples, don’t chicken out on me now. Speaking of chickens…

If you ask me why the chicken crossed the street, Paul Rixon, so help me God.

…………I wasn’t going to.

Sure you weren’t.

I knew you’d cave in, Dimples.

It’s been 76 texts, Paul. It was either that or clawing my eyes out.

I’m glad to have won against the next most reasonable choice, I guess. And it’s good to know 76 is your limit. In all fairness, I was running out of bad jokes.

How tragic.

Two words in exchange for thirty-two. Decent ratio. Could’ve been worse.

Could’ve been a different combination of two words. Take a wild guess which ones.

Get coffee? ;)

No.

Come over? ;)

No.

Do me? ;)

Clearly no.

Oh, damn. You’re not giving me too many options there.

You never had any.

We’re texting now, aren’t we?

Poor judgement on my part.

Ouch.

I rolled my eyes and smiled nonetheless. I was shocked to be actually enjoying this. My conscience kept slapping the hell out of me, but it was an addictive game. And now that I was playing it, I couldn’t lose.

It’s a shock your ego is still standing. I figure that was a low blow.

Don’t say ‘low blow’, Dawn. If a kinky joke can be made, I will make it. Don’t test me like this. I’m weak.

I let out an actual laugh and my hand flew to my mouth before I could stop it. How was this the same douche Paul whose guts I hated?

I know.

Ouch.

See? Low blow after low blow. It’s a miracle you can still take it.

You’d see surprised how many low blows I can take ;)

……………

See, I told you!!

How silly of me to have such lack of faith.

I know, right?

I have a paper to write, Paul.

What about?

I raised an eyebrow, which was ridiculous since he couldn’t see me, but the situation called for it. It was quite the leap from bad pick-up lines and kinky jokes to asking me about my day. Not very… Paul Rixon of him. I hovered with my fingers over the keyboard, not knowing whether to sass him or to actually answer his question.

Quantum physics stuff.

What about?

The quantum mechanics of collisions.

Sounds boring. And nerdy.

Welcome to the life of Dawn Lovelace. How may we bore you today?

Sweet. Do I get an invitation to the whereabouts of Dawn Lovelace? ;)

I rolled my eyes and smiled a little before replying.

Goodbye, Paul.

The phone was silent for longer this time, but the reply came nonetheless.

See you tomorrow, Dimples.

 

10: Chapter 9: Hot and cold

CHAPTER 9 – HOT AND COLD

~SOUNDTRACK: Zayde Wolf – King~

~Paul’s POV, Monday~

“You look tired,” I told Pete as we walked inside the cafeteria and he looked at me a little surprised. “What? I notice stuff.”

“Hardly,” he commented sharply and I tried to huff in indignation, though he had a point. I wasn’t exactly observant.

“Well, you have to be blind not to notice,” I rolled my eyes. “What truck ran you over? Have you even been sleeping at all this week? Or should I ask, who kept you up all week?” I wiggled my eyebrows at him, but then a thought popped in my head and I stopped him dead in his track and pointed a finger at him. “Dude, if it’s Hurricane, I know nothing. I think I like my balls just where they are and I’ll enjoy laughing at you when Dawn kicks yours up in your throat.”

Pete pulled a face. “Vivid. Thank you, Paul, for your insight. But it wasn’t like that.”

I grinned at him. “So I was half right. It was Hurricane, wasn’t it?”

He turned to me and rubbed his face, but through the exhaustion, some excitement and beaming came through. Gross. I was happy for my man, but gross. Girls in love, I could deal with. I’d rejected quite a handful of those in my time. And had spent quite some night with another few, but that’s a whole other story. Men in love, ugh. Why not tie a leash around my neck and take myself out for a walk already, am I right? Seeing Pete so smitten, I knew I’d never been more right.

“She agreed to one date,” Pete explained. “So long as she chose where we went.”

“And?” I prompted him.

“And she did. Dude, she’s insane.”

“Wow,” I scowled a little. “Crazy-eyed bitch? Cause, Pete, dude, we have a policy about that.”

He rolled his eyes. “No. I mean the good kind of insane, if there’s such thing. I think. Just really overwhelming. I mean, from like 10 p.m. last night and up until little after sunrise this morning, I barely had time to catch my breath. We were always moving, always going, from a party to the docks and to some races and she knew so many people and we had beer on the Kezar Stadium. The Kezar Stadium.”

“She seems to be enjoying that move a lot,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What?” Pete frowned at me.

“Nothing. So what’s gonna happen now?”

He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, we did have a good time. And no, you’re not getting details. We’re going out again this weekend. She said it’s my move.”

“Huh,” I clicked my tongue. “Whatcha gonna do?”

“I have no fucking clue. I… I can’t top last night. I’m Pete Nolland, Paul. I’m pretty vanilla. Hurricane’s… well, hurricane. There’s no way I can come up with something to do that’ll blow her pretty brain out.”

“And her panties off?”

He glared. “Hardly the time, Paul.”

“Alright, alright. Listen, buddy. I bet there’s a lot of badass dudes after Hurricane, right?”

“Reassuring,” he sassed me and I resisted the urge to slap the back of his head. The gesture weirdly reminded me of Dawn. Or Miss Parker. I figured bringing up the similarities between the two of them to Dawn would get me that slap. Off topic.

“Shut up, moron. So it figures that all sorts of Paul-like dudes might be after Hurricane,” I grinned at my analogy, but Pete never broke his stare, so I continued. “And still she goes after a Pete. She broke the pattern, so to call it, and that tells us what?”

“That you’re delusional and buying time to find a point that you have yet to make.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “No, idiot. That she doesn’t mind you being vanilla. Pete, Hurricane likes you because you’re you and you still manage to keep up with her. So you meet halfway. Don’t fry your little brain trying to come up with a Hurricane night. Plan a Pete night and I bet you’ll knock those panties right off.” Another glare. “I mean blow that pretty brain out.”

“Right,” he pursed his lips. “That was actually pretty solid advice, my man. Paul Rixon, November 2016. Dating advice. I’ll put in a good word for you with Hurricane for Dawn.”

“No need for it, my man,” I extended my arms smugly. “The plan’s in motion. I shall have Dawn by the end of the year.”

“And back to the Paul Rixon we love to hate,” he shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. He checked his watch before replying. “So it’s getting late. Are you gonna buy something or not? Cause class starts in five.”

“Go ahead. I’ll hit the library early this week to work on that paper for professor Chang’s class.”

Pete blinked and looked at me weirdly. “Library? Paul? You know that’s the place with lots of books and where you have to sit quietly? And where you can’t smoke?”

“I’m not an idiot, idiot,” I scoffed at him, but then I watched as he put two and two together.

“Oh, I see. Dawn’s gonna be there, right? Plan’s in motion, right? Wow. Truly, wow. Paul Rixon, November 2016, hitting the library to get a girl. The world has to have stopped spinning.”

“Whatever, moron,” I rolled my eyes and turned around. “See you later, Nolland.”

I left him behind still snickering, but I refused to let him see how close to home he’d hit. The world was truly ending. I’d never gone to such lengths to get a girl, and to be completely fair, Dawn Lovelace wasn’t that big a deal. Half the time, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to make out with her or punch her. And Paul Rixon doesn’t hit girls. But maybe that was the charm. Maybe aunt Lily was right and I was objectifying girls. Not that it came as much of an epiphany, really, but Dawn Lovelace forced me to approach this differently. She was a challenge, and I enjoyed challenges. Dawn wasn’t fooled by my looks or my money or my confidence, and while I knew I’d been going around this topic for what was maybe weeks now, I still wanted to see what it took to break her. How deep I needed to dig to find something that could crack her little codes. And maybe I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself just yet, but the deeper I dug and the closer I got to her, the more it would take to undo whatever effect she had on me.

I brushed off these thoughts and took out my phone, dialing her number. It rang once, then twice, and then it went to voicemail. Which was so formal, it was cute.

“You have reached Dawn Lovelace. Leave a message after the beep.”

I rolled my eyes. So she wasn’t taking my calls. Huh. And here I thought we had at least crossed that bridge. But it was all about challenges with her, wasn’t it? I opened a text and started typing.

Ignoring me again? My aching heart is bleeding, Dimples. I thought we were friends.

I waited for two minutes, then another two, but she didn’t text back. Well, I’d made it clear I was perseverant.

Such a black heart for someone with such colorful sweaters. I come in peace. I just wanted to ask you what kind of muffin you wanted.

Still no reply. Maybe it was the attack towards her sweaters that put her off. But it was cool. I had just the way to crack her.

So, speaking of muffins. Two muffins in an oven. The first one goes like, ‘Man, it’s really hot in here’. The second one goes like, ‘AAAAAAH TALKING MUFFIN’.

Still no reply.

Get it? Get it? Cause she was a talking muffin, too? Nothing?

This time, the reply came almost instantly. Jackpot.

Why are you like this?

Charming?

Annoying.

Ouch. So no muffin?

Paul, I’m studying.

Studying, more like, stu-DYING? ;)

This time, she didn’t text back. Hmm. Understandable. The studying pun wasn’t my best work. But nonetheless, I bought that gross soy latte thing she liked and a blueberry muffin, along with a black coffee for myself. I took my coffee like a man. Soy latte. What a joke. This girl was lucky I liked her.

~SOUNDTRACK: Neon Trees – Everybody talks~

I made my way towards the library, quite confident it was gonna be a good day. Dawn Lovelace stood no chance against my charms. I knew her coffee order, I brought her muffins, and I vowed to myself I was even gonna let her study, since I also had work of my own to do. I was just gonna be a silent gorgeous presence that demanded attention. Yes, it was gonna be a good day. And because it was Monday, it was gonna set the start of a great week.

I walked inside and greeted Miss Parker, who smiled/grimaced at me, then made my way towards Dawn’s table. But that’s when the flaws in my plan started showing. Because the seat in front of her, the seat where I usually sat, was taken by the dude who’d been there the other day, when I’d delivered the first soy latte and muffin and the note with my phone number.

“Hi,” I spoke in a low voice, dead set on ignoring the dude and smiling down at Dawn.

She looked straight ahead for a second, let out a long breath and forced a painful smile up at me.

“Paul. What a lovely surprise. And by that I mean I’m not surprised at all.”

“I see you’ve got company,” I turned to the dude. “Hi, umm…” I realized halfway through my sentence I didn’t know his name.

“Aaron,” he offered. “I’m Dawn’s best friend.”

Huh. So I had competition. Not that I could call a guy so deep into the friend zone competition. I mean, they studied together. And he didn’t call himself classmate or simply a friend, he was her best friend. I almost pitied him.

“Pleasure,” I shot him a tight grin, then turned back to Dawn. “There goes my plan to woo you today.”

She pursed her lips. “Such a pity. I’ll weep for you. Bye bye.”

Aaron watched the exchange a little awkwardly. “Umm, I can, like, go if you want to sit here,” he offered, though it was clear the last thing he wanted was to move all of his stuff and leave Dawn prey to the big bad wolf. Was that a slight tinge of jealousy I detected?

“That’d be great,” I smiled widely and Dawn let out a small huff.

“What?” she nearly shrieked, making a few nearby students shush her. “No. Absolutely not. Aaron, you don’t have to leave. Paul, what’s wrong with you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, blame it all on me. I just brought coffee and I was hoping we could share it over a nice study session. Just like old times.”

“Old times were last week,” she threw her hands in the air exasperatedly. But I wouldn’t have it.

I’m sorry, did I say flaws in my plan? I meant the first hint that my plan would turn up to be a disaster. Because I tried to put down the latte and the muffin while, of course, Dawn still argued with me and nerdy Aaron kept trying to excuse himself and Dawn also tried to mix her arguing with reassuring Aaron that he was entitled to stay and I had to go. So I tried to put the latte and the muffin down. Keyword is ‘tried’. Because they never even touched the desk before the coffee spilled all over it and over Dawn’s books. Serves me right for trying to balance books and a muffin and two coffees.

There was a single moment of utter silence when not one of us even breathed. I think Aaron wanted nothing else than for us to forget he was even there. Dawn was still processing. I think she was in shock. As for me, I was starting to regret that joke from earlier about Pete’s balls. Cause I was pretty sure mine were going to have that fate precisely.

Then Dawn closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. I expected all hell to break loose on my ass, but she just opened her eyes, curled her shaking fingers into fists and looked at me with murder in her eyes.

“Out,” she whispered, which was scarier than if she’d actually yelled at me.

“I’ll…I’m just gonna… Yeah.”

I backed away slowly and I let myself out, secretly terrified that if the initial shock wore out, Dawn would actually follow me and snap my neck or something. She was small, but I wasn’t fooled. She was scary. Maybe my Monday hadn’t set that good an example for this week. Or maybe I just wasn’t gonna have the good week I’d been planning on.

 

***

~Tuesday~

~SOUNDTRACK: Mikky Ekko – Pull me down~

“You want me to what?”

The cafeteria lady looked at me like I’d just grown an extra pair of ears.

“Just put a little tape over the lid. So it doesn’t spill.”

She kept staring at me until it made me uncomfortable, but I wasn’t giving in. If I wanted for Dawn to, like, not kill me dead this morning, I had to prove her books were safe with me. Eventually, the cafeteria lady gave in, rolled her eyes and went in the back to tape my coffee. I even winked at her before leaving, but that didn’t seem to cut it, so I left her a pretty solid tip.

Then I made my way to the library just like yesterday, without holding too much hope to turn this around this time. I caught sight of Dawn at her usual seat and luckily for me, nerdy Aaron was nowhere in sight. So just the two of us. I wasn’t sure whether to be glad for that or scared for my life.

I prompted myself next to Dawn’s desk, waiting for her to notice me. If she did, she showed no sign of it. Eventually, I cleared my throat. She didn’t look up as she replied.

“You needed something?”

“Hi,” I replied lamely and this time, she actually stopped writing.

“I’m busy, Paul. And I’d appreciate it if—“ She finally raised her gaze and noticed my taped latte. Her eyes widened and I swore, for a second, that she was trying to hold back laughter. “What’s this?”

I pursed my lips. “This is me, making an attempt at an apology. I don’t usually do that, so I’m not sure if I’m doing it right.” I put down the latte and the muffin and shoved my hands in my pockets awkwardly. That part was right. I didn’t do apologies. So this was way out of my comfort zone, as was the actual feeling of guilt. Wicked stuff. “I also spoke to Miss Parker about the books I, umm, ruined yesterday. She gave me a list and I stopped by the bookstore on my way here.” I paused to pull out three books from my bag and placed them on the desk by the coffee and the muffin. “I don’t… I’m not sure if I got these right. I hope they’re the right ones.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times and I had to admit it was nice, seeing her taken aback like that. Pete had given me the idea about the books, really, so I couldn’t take credit for it, but it had been because, as he’d put it, I’d seem pretty upbeat about it. Nonsense. Well yeah, I felt bad about it. She looked like she cared a whole deal about her books and stuff like that. And she wasn’t that fond of me, either, to put it lightly, so screwing myself up like that in front of her had cost me quite some progress.

“That’s—“ she finally spoke. “That’s… I don’t… I’m…” She paused and took a deep breath. By Dawn Lovelace standards, I was pretty sure she’d counted to five in her head to gather her thoughts. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” I replied quickly. “I wanted to.”

She struggled to find words for a few more moments before replying. “Thank you.”

I grinned. “Sure. Can I sit down now?”

She pondered a little and I could see the struggle. She wanted to keep hating me, but I’d just tossed a game-changer to the table. Ha. Paul Rixon had this up his sleeve. Eventually, one corner of her mouth curled upwards and there was something that small gesture held. I don’t know what. I’d never lived something like that before and it was weird as shit. But as that small corner of her mouth formed a teasing half smile, something stopped around me for like half a second. For that half second, the way she looked at me through the filter of that teasing smile stopped me dead in my shoes. I can’t describe the feeling. I’d never been one whose heart skipped beats or whatever. But if life were a story made of moments only, I was pretty much this one spoke a lot. I just wasn’t sure how to listen to it yet.

“Well,” she started answering my question, “it’s not like I could ever stop you before.”

I blinked to brush off the odd moment and shot her my Rixon grin before seating down. I saw her watch the books with a little spark in her eyes and I knew I’d been right about her love for books. Tentatively, she reached for one and opened it. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. What was it with people and smelling books? It was weird as hell. I tried rolling my eyes at her, but it didn’t come. It didn’t look weird on her. Which was weird itself.

“So what are you writing on, again?” I asked to distract myself from the shift in the air.

“Quantum physics stuff,” she replied with that teasing smile again without looking up from her book. God, that stupid smile. What was with me today?

“Right,” I snapped my fingers, remembering. “The quantum mechanics of collisions.” This time, she looked up at me, surprised I’d remembered, so I continued. “I read a little on that. Something about quantum jumps.”

“Well,” she started tentatively, “that’s Schrodinger’s approach on it. It usually describes stationary states and vibration amplitudes associated with transitions. But Schrodinger—“ She stopped mid-sentence, looking at me weird. “Sorry, my space nerd is showing.”

“No,” I shrugged like it was no big deal. “Your space nerd is always out.”

I could see she wanted to bark some snarky comment at me, but a little smile broke through and she bit her lip quickly to hide it.

“Jerk,” she muttered and was about to turn her attention back on the book, when she snapped her fingers as if she’d just remembered something. “You said you read on it. Why on earth would you read on the quantum mechanics of collisions?”

I didn’t reply right away. Because I wanted something to talk to her about other than insults and shameless flirting being tossed around. Because I wanted to show her I wasn’t just douche Paul. Because that little expression of utter shock on her face had been cute and totally worth it. I could pick any of these reasons. But when I opened my mouth, none of them came out. Because I was Paul Rixon, and I somehow preferred douche Paul to gaining the reputation of wuss nerd Paul who was smitten by a girl with ponytails and purple sweaters.

“No reason.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift – State of grace~

~Wednesday~

I hurried down the stairs trying to button up my shirt and tame down my hair at the same time. Obviously, I’d overslept, and if I wanted to beat nerdy Aaron to that spot in front of Dawn at the library, I was already late as it was. Gee, was I even hearing myself? I was a teenage girl.

I strolled through the kitchen and grabbed a glass of orange juice, kissing aunt Lily fast.

“Sorry, guys, can’t stay. I’m already late.”

“Like hell you are, young man,” Ross used his authoritarian voice and I cringed; that was the voice I couldn’t argue against. “We haven’t had breakfast together in too long, Paul.”

“Yeah, sweetie,” aunt Lily intervened and I was truly screwed if she tuned in on this. “Sit with us, let’s chat. Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

I groaned and pulled myself a chair as Lily shoved two waffles on my plate and a glass of milk in front of me.

“Where are you headed off so early, anyway?” Ross grinned at me. “Surely not classes.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and smugly shoved a piece of waffle in my mouth before replying. “Library, actually.”

Aunt Lily, who was just drinking some milk, choked a little and looked up at me surprised. “The library? Oh, my. What could have possibly gotten dear old troublemaking Paul Rixon to go to the library?” she joked.

“A girl,” I was quick to reply without thinking and I regretted the words the second they rolled off my tongue. Because both Ross and Lily looked at me like I’d just told them I’d enrolled into Harvard or that I was retiring up a mountain to live in solitude as a monk. Note to self. Think before speaking. Yeah. Sounded like solid advice.

“Oh my,” Lily repeated, practically beaming at me.

“That explains it,” Ross’ expression mirrored hers. “Must be one hell of a girl if she got you to be all responsible all of a sudden.”

“That’s not—“ I rubbed the back of my neck, looking for a wait out. “I mean, yeah, she is, but… It’s not like… I’m not… I don’t.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Lily patted my arm. “It’s okay. You men are always in denial about your feelings.”

“No, we’re not,” Ross and I said at the same time and Lily looked at us so smugly like we were just proving her point.

“Tell us more about this girl, Paul,” she continued, resting her face on her chin dreamily. Jesus. What was it with women and cheesy shit like this?

“There’s nothing for me to tell you. Her name’s Dawn. She’s pretty cool and she’s playing hard to get. And by that I mean she’s so close to kicking my ass the distance could be measured in atoms.” I was pretty sure my metaphor wasn’t scientifically accurate, but reading up on Dawn stuff did thing to my brain. “So I’m… I don’t know, sticking around, I guess.”

“Sticking around,” Ross shook his head at me. “Are you hearing this, Lily?”

“I think you played the same card with me,” she winked at my uncle and I rolled my eyes so hard I swear I heard them pop backwards into my orbits.

“Alright, this was nice,” I gulped down the milk. “And I’d love to stick around for the daydreaming about how we’ll get married and have gorgeous babies, but I gotta run. I have a girl to get to sleep with me.”

“Paul!” aunt Lily exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Lily, but no woman can change a man,” I shrugged, throwing the backpack over my shoulder. “Dawn’s interesting and I’d maybe date her if I was into that kind of thing, but I’m not. See you, guys. Enjoy breakfast.”

I ignored the flashback of that adorable little teasing grin of hers from yesterday and turned on my heels, walking away from whatever lecture they were gonna throw at me. I caught Ross telling my aunt Lily I was ‘young and restless’, so maybe I was off the hook just this once. Whatever.

I jumped into my Jaguar and drove straight to the library, trying not to think too hard about the talk with Lily and Ross. They were painfully wrong about this whole thing and while it sounded like it, I was not in denial. It took more than purple sweaters and soy lattes to win Paul Rixon over.

Dawn Lovelace is more than purple sweaters and soy lattes, a small voice in my head told me as I pulled over in front of the library. Maybe that’s what had some red lights flaring in the back of my head. And just as I was trying to dismiss that thought, I caught sight of a blue spot in my peripheral vision and I turned my head to see a corner of fabric teasing me from the gloves compartment. I opened it and my fingers brushed against the silk of Dawn’s blue scarf. The one she’d left at the tattoo parlor weeks ago. Her perfume reached me and the red lights practically screamed at me like police sirens. Okay. I had to admit. I was in trouble.

And because men will be men and they’ll repress whatever feelings they can for as long as I can, I huffed and shoved the scarf back in the gloves compartment and got out of the car, making my way towards the library.

~SOUNDTRACK: Red Summer Tape – Hot ‘n’ cold (Katy Perry cover)~

I put all of my Paul Rixon confidence on – I had to stop referring to myself in third person – and walked straight towards my seat which was, surprisingly enough, free. No sign of nerdy Aaron. Maybe Sir Friend Zone was having a hard time with competition.

Dawn acknowledged my presence by looking up at me with no sign of hostility in her gaze. I whistled slightly.

“No death threats, again? Come on, Dimples, not even a glare? I call that character development.”

“You bought me books,” she shrugged. “That offers temporary access out of the hate zone.”

“That’s all it takes?” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, silly Dimples. You are not ready to hear about all the things I can do which would—“

“And just like that, you’re back in the zone,” she replied acidly and I chuckled, opening my book and clicking a pen.

“It’s because of the latte, isn’t it? I knew you’d get spoiled. Sorry, Dimples, I was running late this morning.”

“I don’t need your lattes,” she huffed with indignation and I laughed again at how cute she was when she got all pissy. “And quit clicking that pen,” she snapped at me from behind her book.

Well, I had to admit. After yesterday’s heart-felt moment, a little argument was overdue. The universe was back into the boundaries of harmony and balance. See, aunt Lily and uncle Ross had nothing to worry about. Dawn and I didn’t work like they thought we did. I’d been stupid to even consider it. In fact…

My thoughts trailed off as I caught sight of someone in my peripheral vision that brought the flashing red lights back to life. Louder than before, is possible. I turned my head slightly and my worst fears came true. In the form of long legs emerging from under a ridiculously short skirt, blond hair and a name I still could not remember for the death of me. Which was soon to follow.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, hiding behind book as panic started to settle in the depth of my chest. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Language,” Dawn snapped at me. “You’re in a library.”

I would’ve made fun of her and her ridiculous ethics, hadn’t I been in such deep, unending shit. And what’s-her-name was already coming my way, so this was due to turn up really, really bad.

“Crap. This is bad, this is bad, this is so bad.”

I heard concern in Dawn’s voice as she finally realized something was going on and she kept asking me what was wrong, but I was too focused on finding a way out of here before an imminent disaster.

“Paul?”

Shit. This time, the voice didn’t belong to Dawn. I closed my eyes and let out another chain of profanities before finally emerging from behind my book and faking the fakest smile I’d ever faked.

“Hi,” my voice came out really high-pitched, so I cleared my throat. “Hi, umm…”

Shit. Her name. Again. The chick looked at me with that look of murder Dawn usually had reserved for me. Speaking of Dawn. I was scared to even glimpse at her. I was more scared of her for witnessing this than I was for the blonde chick for having to deal with this first hand.

“Samantha,” she sneered at me. “Now I see why you haven’t been returning my calls. It’s because you couldn’t remember my name.”

It was because I’d given her a fake number, but she didn’t need to know that. I caught sight of Dawn shifting awkwardly in her seat under the stares of the entire library.

“I should, umm,” she stammered. “Maybe I should, umm, go.”

She started gathering her books when Samantha finally acknowledged her presence and her eyes flew from me to her back and forth.

“Oh, I see,” she shrieked. “Is she this week’s challenge? Is this how you play your games, Paul?” She turned to Dawn. “You should know he was sleeping with me last week. So don’t think you’ll be any different.”

“I really didn’t,” Dawn fake cheered and kept shoving her stuff in her bag.

I stood up and grabbed Samantha’s elbow. “Samantha, you’re making a scene. Let’s take this outside.”

She broke free of my grasp. “Like hell we’re taking this outside. This is for your little bitch and for everyone to know that Paul Rixon—“

“Alright, that’s enough,” I caught her arm again, feeling my nostrils flare at her calling Dawn a bitch. “Out, Samantha, now. In case it wasn’t obvious by now, we’re through.”

By now, Dawn had already stormed off and I didn’t stick around to catch the aftermath of my words, either. I just heard Samantha huff in indignation and I was pretty sure she’d cry a little and that, by the end of the day, the whole university would have heard about Paul Rixon, disgusting heartbreaker. But for now, I didn’t exactly care about the opinion of the whole university. Just Dawn’s.

I caught up with her outside and gently caught her arm and spun her around.

“Dawn. Hey, Dawn, wait. Look, what just happened—“

“I don’t care, Paul,” she shrugged, and looked like she’d meant it. “I really don’t. What you do is no concern of mine. Or what, did you think I stormed off because I was jealous?”

It was my turn to shrug. When she put it like that, it did sound absurd.

“Oh my God,” she laughed incredulously. “You did. Look, Paul, I promise you. I don’t care. I already knew what you’re made of. That girl just confirmed it. Next time, just leave me out of it.”

She didn’t wait for me to reply before shrugging off my arm and walking away. Well, I’d screwed up pretty grand just now. Shit, this would be hell to recover from. If ever.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Emmit Fenn – Blinded~

~Thursday~

Of course Dawn was still pissed with me. I had stuck with the routine this morning. Soy latte and a muffin. I placed them in front of her, but she didn’t even look up. Well, she’d accepted them, so I took it as a good sign. I sat quietly in front of her, refraining from whatever smartass comments that went through my head if I wanted to have any chance for her to ever speak to me again.

So we sat in silence. She didn’t even acknowledge my presence and her ignoring me bugged me too much to even be able to work on my paper. One hour passed. Then two. I was bored out of my mind and my gaze just traveled around the room aimlessly.

And my eyes just stopped on her. It was weird. I never noticed this kind of stuff. Sure, I noticed when chicks were hot, but Dawn wasn’t hot. No. Dawn was pretty. It was like one of those weird movie moments when everything around her went blurry and every single one of her features came to focus. Her flawless ponytail. Her hazel eyes, like sunrise through a glass of whiskey. Pink lips, so kissable and so distracting when she bit them, alongside that crease between her brows as she tried to understand something. Sharp cheekbones. Perfect little nose. A white silky shirt coming from under one of her ever-present sweaters. A golden chain around her neck that her fingers flew up to play with now and then. Yeah. She was gorgeous.

Before it even registered what I was doing, my hand was already curled around a pencil that was moving aimlessly over a paper sheet, contouring the main features of her face. And from then on, I couldn’t stop it. I drew her eyes. Then her cheeks and her nose and her chin and those tempting lips. Then her ponytail. The sweater. The chain. Books around her. It was like an adrenaline rush. It felt like that time when Pete and I had been tripping on LSD, only better. Everything was sharper now. Dawn was more addictive than anything I’d ever tried and I felt myself drawn to her in ways I knew I’d never be able to untangle myself from. Not that I minded it.

Eventually, Dawn’s head flew up and her gaze fixated on me, shocking me like a lightning bolt.

“Quit looking at me like that,” she snapped and I blinked, confused.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” she did some crazy hand motions like I was supposed to just get it from that. “I don’t know. It’s bugging me.” Her eyes finally landed on my notebook and she frowned a little. “What are you doing?”

I shut my notebook so fast its thud rang through the library and it occurred to me how guilty that had made me look. Like I was pulling off a Titanic and drawing her naked. Well, that would have been easier to explain in terms of me than what I was actually doing.

“Nothing,” I shrugged like a little kid caught red-handed.

“Yes, you were,” she argued. “What was it? I wanna see it.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t change the subject, Paul.”

I sighed. We stared at each other for one long minute. And in the end, I don’t know what made me do it. Maybe I didn’t have as much self-control as I’d claimed yesterday morning. Maybe something was going on right here, something I couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Some weird chemistry, some atoms collisions or whatever she wanted to call them. Maybe I was getting more involved in this than I wanted to. Maybe there was something about this girl that had me truly smitten. And I hated how much I liked that.

So in the end, I stood up, shoved my books in my bag under her confused stare and handed her the notebook. She took it from me tentatively and opened it to look at her own portrait. I heard her gasp a little and her hand flew to her mouth like she hadn’t meant to do that out loud.

“You can keep it,” I told her, then turned on my heels and walked away. I didn’t wait for her reaction. I don’t think I wanted to see her reaction. For now, I just needed to get as far away from her as possible, to detox myself from all of her influence on me from this week so that I could finally think straight. For all the talking I did, I was surely falling pretty damn hard at this girl’s feet.

I didn’t go to the library on Friday.

 

 

This is the longest chapter I have. EVER. Written. But it was totally worth it. I don’t think I’ve written something I’m prouder of and I write a lot of shit.

So yeah. 6K words, guys. Happy new year!!!

11: Chapter 10: The best soy latte you've ever had and me

CHAPTER 10 – THE BEST SOY LATTE YOU’VE EVER HAD AND ME

~SOUNDTRACK: Frenship – 1000 nights~

~Dawn’s POV, Friday~

Paul didn’t show up at the library on Friday. Maybe it was for the best. Well, it was clearly for the best, since his presence had made me ask for an extension on my paper. But really, how could I focus on my paper with the crazy week I’d been having?

On Monday, there was the coffee. In all fairness, perhaps I was growing a little immune to all the ways he kept screwing up, because I wasn’t nearly as furious with him for that. Sure, I cursed his name for like half a day and my head hurt when I thought about how I’d have to spend yet another ridiculous amount of money to replace the books he’d ruined. But then Tuesday came. And he came back with a taped up coffee and brand new books. And I was always a sucker for books, but to be completely honest here, it had been the coffee with the tape on it that had gotten to me. Paul Rixon didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who felt guilty about stuff. More like the kind of guy who shrugged it off and moved on. So to have him go to such lengths as to put tape on the lid warmed something up in me. That I quickly poured ice cold water over. I couldn’t have warm feelings or anything towards Paul Rixon.

And just to prove me wrong about this concept precisely, Wednesday came and brought in one of his conquests. That so-called Samantha was just the type of skank superficial guys went for. Blonde, tall, everything on display. And Paul met all of the stereotypes I usually had for guys like him. He had hooked up with her, hadn’t called back and couldn’t even remember her name. Could this get more cliché? I don’t know about that, but it certainly had gotten embarrassing enough for me to be humiliated like that in front of the entire library. Served me right for ever agreeing to be seen in public with Paul Rixon. It was seriously getting out of hand and I had to put him in his place before this got too far for me to control it. I even made a plan about how I was going to confront him the next day and ask him to keep his distance or else. I was working on what else meant.

But Thursday topped them all. I kept chickening out on my big speech and I kept postponing it until I decided I was gonna give him an earful right before leaving, so that I could make a dramatic exit. I never got to. And then the drawing happened. And I don’t remember ever being left this speechless before. I’d spent most of last night looking at that drawing. It was weird, seeing myself through his eyes. I would have expected him to draw me naked or at least lying over some car with huge breasts on display. I would have expected him to doodle whatever kinky sketches he could come up with. But this… It was so genuine. It actually looked pretty, in a way I had yet to put my finger on. It was scary, to be honest, to think that Paul was capable of that. It meant that maybe I was wrong about some things. And it was just easier to assume the worst of him and leave it at that.

I think I would’ve chickened out on Friday and that I wouldn’t have gone to the library, hadn’t it been a truly desperate situation. But my paper was due today and I’d had my teacher agree to an extension for the weekend, but only because I’d been remarkably active in his class, as he’d put it. But I was a little skeptical about facing Paul today after the awkward, filled moment we’d shared yesterday. Luckily for me, he didn’t show up. Yeah, truly for the best. Now I had time to actually work on this damn paper.

Hours flew by and I ignored the way he kept popping into my thought every now and then. People came and went and, by the time darkness settled outside, I was pretty much left alone in the library. Well, guess other people had social lives on Friday nights, unlike me. I had no idea how fast time had gone by until Miss Parker stopped by my table.

“Miss Lovelace, it’s nearly midnight,” she grimaced at me, which I assumed was a forced attempt at a smile; a very hostile one, that’s for sure. “We must close.”

I widened my eyes at her. “Close? No, you can’t close, I have to finish my paper.”

She huffed like she couldn’t be bothered by my paper. “How tragic. But rules are rules, Miss Lovelace and I must stick to the schedule. Gather your things. The doors close in five minutes.”

She walked away without waiting for my reply and I felt the sudden urge to let out a train of profanities after her, but that reminded me of Paul and it sounded too much like something he’d do, so I kept my mouth shut and grabbed my stuff, shoved it into my bag and walked out of the library.

Well, to be fair, it was midnight. The cold air of the night hit me in the face and I crossed my arms over my chest. My thin coat wasn’t made for late autumn nights, considering it was nearly winter. But I let the cold refresh me and fill my lungs. Maybe knock some sense into me. Not that it had much luck.

~SOUNDTRACK: Yael Naim – Toxic~

For whatever sense the freezing night had knocked into me, it was all knocked out as I made my way down the sidewalk and I noticed a jet black Jaguar waiting right around the corner. Crap. I stopped dead in my track and caught my breath before walking towards it.

Paul waited for me, leaning against his car and I hated the way my body reacted to his sight. Stupid biology. Yeah, he was one gorgeous bastard. His hair was wild, just the way he liked it, his hands were in the pockets of a coat that looked ridiculously expensive and he was biting his lip lazily as I made my way towards him.

Neither of us spoke as I stopped right in front of him, the air charged. He was the first to break the silence.

“Missed me?”

I bit my lip against a smile that was threating to bloom and clicked my tongue instead.

“What are you doing here, Paul?”

He shrugged. “Figured it wasn’t nice of me, bailing on you like that. We’re studying buddies, aren’t we? There’s gotta be a code for that.”

“Doubtful,” I replied. “So why didn’t you come today?”

His joking façade broke and his expression grew serious in a way I didn’t know he was capable of. I was taken aback by how that serious face of his managed to get to me. If you took away the douche from douche Paul, it was absurd how attractive and magnetic he was. And I was drawn to him like a helpless little screw. And he knew that all too well. He took a few steps away from the car until he was standing merely inches from me.

“Admit that you missed me and I might just tell you,” he whispered so close to my face I felt his breath hitting my face, a warm wave contrasting against the cold night air.

“Don’t think so,” I stood my ground. “But still. Why are you here, in the dead of night?”

“Why are you here, in the dead of night?” he turned it against me and I rolled my eyes.

“I was studying. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I wanted to see you.”

The way he said it knocked the air out of my lungs. God, I hated myself so much right now. I had to constantly remind myself this was the douche Paul whose guts I hated, but it was getting harder and harder for the information to register. I tried again, but they were just blank words paling against how toxic his proximity felt, electricity buzzing in the space between us.

“Why?” I managed to ask, my voice sounding surprisingly steady for how week my knees felt.

 “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

He clicked his tongue. “Filthy mouth. I knew you had it in you.”

“Still didn’t answer my question,” I pointed out and I tried so hard to ignore the fact that he kept staring at my lips.

“I really don’t think you want me to,” he replied and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t begin to make guesses about that answer, but the way he’d just said it implied enough.

“I really think so, too,” I admitted, and he laughed, the sound low and deep and I almost felt the vibrations of his chest against mine. That’s how close he was standing.

“Let’s go get coffee,” he blurted out and I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

“Why didn’t you come to the library today?”

It was satisfying to watch him being the taken aback by my change of the subject. I don’t know why I was so keen on knowing that. But this week had been a roller coaster, Paul-related, and I learned I enjoyed the ride. Maybe it was the late night whispering sweet nothings in my ear in Paul’s deep husky voice. Maybe it was the cold pushing me more and more forward into his warmth until his cologne crowded the air in my lungs. But blood hummed in my veins and every inch of my skin itched in anticipation that he might touch me. Stupid biology.

He bit his lip, sensing the game. Question for question. Answer for answer. Midnight coffee for an explanation I didn’t even know why I was demanding.

“I thought maybe I’d scared you off yesterday with that drawing,” he admitted eventually and I tried not to let my facial expression give away that he had. It was scary to think Paul was capable of that, my half an hour ago self reminded me. Maybe I was really wrong about some things. It was just easier to assume the worst of him and leave it at that. And maybe, just maybe. Paul was not as low as I’d placed him.

“And yet here you are,” I replied.

“And yet here I am.”

“Why?”

“Let’s get coffee.”

“Why?” I insisted and he shook his head, grinning down at me.

“I think you’ve already had your question.”

“I hold the upper hand,” I grinned back at him. “You must want that coffee a lot.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Dimples,” he bit his lip against a wider smirk. Gosh, he did that an infuriating lot tonight.

“Well? Do you?” I prompted, reading the answer in his eyes before it rolled off his tongue.

“Here I am,” he said instead of an actual answer.

“Why?”

“To get coffee.”

“Why?”

I watched it happen in slow motion. I saw the twitch in his muscle as the intention settled. I saw his smirk at anticipating my reaction. I watched his arm move up and up to my face level. I felt the light touch of his fingertips from the place where they brushed my ear and down into my stomach and to my toes. Then he moves my bangs out of my eyes and I hated that smug look in his eyes when he saw my breath catch a little.

“You’re asking me why I wanna get coffee with you?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“No. I’m asking,” I raised my chin, “why you decided to get out of bed in the middle of the night and get coffee with me. You had all day.”

“So you did miss me.”

“Stop avoiding the question, Paul.”

“I wanted to come all day long, Dimples,” he finally admitted, his eyes growing yet again serious in that way that struck me dumb. “But you’ve turned me down before, you know. After yesterday, I didn’t want you to think I was going all soft and whatever.”

“And yet here you are,” I repeated, but this time, he didn’t smile back.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to get a fucking coffee.”

I sighed and pondered. I knew it was a bad call, but it was the only one at hand. Even if I wanted to say no with my brain and sent the intention to my vocal chords, to my tongue, to my lips, they still would’ve said yes. It was a toxic rush. Maybe I’d question it and regret the hell out of it tomorrow morning and maybe I was getting myself stuck with Paul Rixon on my ass for longer than I’d anticipated, but it was a truly toxic rush.

I moved past him, breaking the spell and opened the door to his car. I turned over my shoulder to shoot him a glance.

“One coffee,” I said and got inside the car.

And I felt like I could finally take a goddamn breath. What the fuck was that whole thing?

~SOUNDTRACK: Shawn Mendes - Mercy~

Paul circled the car and got inside half a minute later, giving me time to pull myself together. I let out a loud breath and put my cold hands over my cheeks. They were burning. God, I was so glad for how dark it was outside, because I would’ve been mortified if Paul had seen how hard I was blushing right now.

I was sure I had myself together by the way Paul sat behind the steering wheel, but feeling yet again his presence so close to me reminded me of the shadow of his touch above my eye and of his body towering over me. And when he turned to look at me with that hungry glint in his eye, I was left wondering just where exactly this was going. Nowhere good, that was for sure.

“Where to?” I asked after clearing my throat to get rid of the weird tension.

“To get coffee,” he replied smugly and started the car, making me roll my eyes as he drove away.

The city was still buzzing with the last sparks of the day. If I looked closely, it appeared to be snowing just a little bit, giving the scenery an eerie look. Paul and I drove in silence for a minute, each of us struggling to fill it with whatever nonsense that would get us out of it. Streetlights flew by us rapidly and people became no more than insignificant blurs. And I was getting coffee at midnight with Paul Rixon.

“I’m sorry about Samantha,” he blurted out eventually and I looked at him in shock, blinking.

“What?”

“Samantha. The girl from yesterday.”

“Yes, Paul, I remember Samantha, but—“

“Look, Dawn.” Oh boy. He used my name. And that serious tone with that serious look. The universe was merciless tonight. “I’m not gonna pretend like I’m some saint or even a good guy or whatever. Samantha was a mistake. I make lots of those.”

“Shocker.”

“Point is,” he ignored my mumbling, “I kinda like you, you see. So I’m trying here. I don’t do that usually. Because trust me, it gets worse than this. So don’t I deserve some credit for that?”

I stayed silent for a minute. Did he? It wasn’t like I was supposed to thank Paul Rixon for not breaking out his worst on me, was it?

It was just easier to assume the worst of him and leave it at that.

“And the drawing?”

“What?” he looked sideways at me, frowning.

“The drawing. What about that?”

He shrugged one shoulder, his hand flying to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t know. It just happened?”

“Is it a question?” I raised an eyebrow at his phrasing.

“No,” he replied. “It did just happen. I’m a tattooist , it shouldn’t be a shock I draw, too.  You were sitting there, right in front of me, so I drew you.”

“It was pretty,” I mumbled half-assed.

“Had a pretty model,” he smiled sideways at me and my cheeks burned again.

“Wow,” I hid it with a sarcastic remark. “An actual compliment. What is it with you tonight?”

“Trying to get some credit for trying, remember?”

I chuckled and he pulled into the parking lot of a shady café. It looked like the kind of place you’d see on the side of roads in movies where people get killed by psychopaths. Paul must have read it on my face, because he rolled his eyes, got out of the car and moved over to open my door, too. I didn’t comment on his manners, afraid I might jinx it.

“I know it looks shady,” he said. Shady was a nice way to put it. “But they make great coffee. Come on.”

We moved silently towards the café, snowflakes dancing lazily in front of us and seeking shelter on the tips of my hair and on my lashes. When Paul opened the door and I walked inside, I glimpsed at him and noticed some snowflakes in his hair, too and I had to resist the impulse of shaking them off.

I sat down in a booth, shrugged down my coat and he followed me minutes later, holding two cups of coffee.

“Soy latte,” he put mine in front of me. “No muffins, though.”

“Bummer,” I took a sip of my latte and looked at him in shock. “Holy crap. This is amazing.”

“Right?” Paul nodded. “Told you. Not a perfect place for a first date, but they make truly good coffee. It’s pretty impressive for a last minute choice.”

I choked on my latte. “First date? Paul, this isn’t a date. I agreed on one coffee.”

He shrugged casually. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“No. It sounds like coffee,” I argued.

“Huh. So I guess I still have a shot at a kick-ass first date.”

I threw my hands in the air exasperatedly. Ah, yes. This was more like the Paul Rixon mood. “Paul, I am not going out with you.”

He leaned over the table, his eyes staring intensely into mine. There goes the douche Paul mood.

“And here I thought we were making progress. You enjoy playing hard to get, don’t you?”

I felt my heard thud in my chest in anger and I leaned over the table, too. I had a pretty strong déjà vu, which I chose to ignore, as well as the sparks coming from him as he shamelessly stared at my lips.

“Why do you have to assume I’m playing hard to get? Have you even considered that I might not actually be interested and that you’re chasing pavements?”

He simply stared at me for a few second and looked as if he was finally considering and he just wasn’t seeing my point. Then he just raised his hand and drew the back of his fingers down on my arm, from my shoulder and to my elbow. Bad day for me to wear a sleeveless shirt. Because he could notice all too well the trail of goosebumps his fingertips left behind them. He drew them back up to my shoulder and played with a few loose strands that had fallen out of my ponytail. Then his eyes found mine again and he smirked with satisfaction.

“Not chasing pavements,” he stated smugly. “And maybe you’re not playing hard to get, either. Maybe you’re just having it a hard time admitting it to yourself. But there’s something here, Dimples. You’re betraying yourself.”

He pointed at my goosebumps and I moved away from him, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly. If he wanted denial, I’d show him denial. My body had betrayed me enough for one night. So what if he was right? I wasn’t gonna give in to the cliché of the good girl falling prey to the bad guy. I was no little red riding hood and he was no wolf.

He sighed and leaned backwards in his seat. “God, you’re so frustrating.”

“Then let it be,” I shrugged.

“Tell you what,” he chewed on his lip. “If I’m reading this all so wrong, let me have one date. Just one night. If I’m wrong and there’s nothing at all between us, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

I pondered it. “For good?”

“For good. But if I’m right—“

“You won’t,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s ridiculous. There’s no way you can win me over in one night so easily that’ll make me want you to stick around.”

“Just hear me out. If I’m right and I get my goodnight kiss… Well, I don’t know. Guess that kiss will have to make do as a prize.”

I threw my head back faking a laugh. “A goodnight kiss? You actually think you can get me to kiss you? God, you’re delusional. You’re making it too easy on me.”

He shrugged again and took a sip of his coffee. “So be it.”

I thought about it. Well, I would have to go on a date with Paul. And while I was absolutely sure he was never gonna make me kiss him, I had to admit, after this week and after tonight specifically, I wasn’t that confident on my odds to resist him. But then again, if I did, I was free.

“Fine,” I replied eventually. “One date. Tomorrow night. Game on, Rixon.”

He simply smiled at me and we finished our coffees in silence. And damn, that soy latte was pretty phenomenal. Then he stood up and offered his hand to help me up. So dramatic. I rolled my eyes and left him there with his hand extended, making my way towards his car.

The ride back to my dorm was also silent, but filled with tension yet again. Maybe I was a little in too deep with that date. By the way he looked at me, I could tell he was confident in his chances. Me, I wasn’t so sure about mine. Tonight had been like a gravity shift between us and he was drawing me in like a black hole.

We made it back to my dorm and we stayed there, in the car, in the dark, for another couple of minutes. I don’t know why I didn’t get out. What was I waiting for? Why couldn’t I let tonight end? It felt like from here forth, everything that wouldn’t meet the intensity of tonight was going to hit me as way too mundane.

Gosh, I was being ridiculous. I rolled my eyes at myself and I finally moved to open the door when he caught my elbow. Even through the coat, his grip electrified me. I turned around to face him. The heat was on, but the air between us was so charged you could see our breaths mingling. He leaned in closer and closer and he was closing the distance and I was losing my mind. And it hit me. I was gonna let him kiss me. The bet wasn’t even on and I was going to lose it.

His lips were inches from mine and I stopped breathing. I heard a click behind me that didn’t even register and, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, his head turned to my right. I let out a loud exhale and I could practically see spots clouding my vision. Paul leaned forward and took something out of the glove compartment that he handed to me. I frowned at first, unable to even understand what he was giving me.

“M-My scarf,” I managed to mutter and reached for it with shaky fingers.

“You forgot it at the parlor weeks ago,” he explained. “Thought you might want it back.”

“T-Thanks.”

I barely shoved the scarf in my bag, hating the way I’d just lost self-control like that. Paul watched me the whole time with an amused look in his eyes, enjoying this with no small amount of cockiness.

“Seems like it’s not gonna be that hard for me to win that bet, after all,” he commented.

“Shut up.”

I scoffed at him and got out of the car, walking away angrily. I promised myself there was no way he was getting that goodnight kiss tomorrow night. Two could play this game.

12: Chapter 11: Ships in the night

CHAPTER 11 – SHIPS IN THE NIGHT

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift – New Romantics~

~Paul’s POV, Saturday~

“You have reached Pete. You know what to do.”

I groaned, feeling the need to gouge my eyes out. I hung up and called Pete again as I tried on what must’ve been the hundredth T-shirt. What colors did Dawn even like? It was absurd. Guys’ minds don’t work like that, figuring out what colors chicks dig. I was mad at myself for even caring about that all. I mean sure, impression mattered with Dawn Lovelace, but since when did I care about what T-shirt I wore on dates? Well, usually I didn’t have to worry about impressing my date for more than half an hour before moving the party to my place. In my bed. Something told me tonight wasn’t going to be like this. Hell, I was in it for a goddamn goodnight kiss. I took off my T-shirt again, rolling my eyes for even bothering with this shit. And then I tried on another one.

I called Pete again and again and I got his voicemail every time.

“Dude, pick the fucking phone up,” I sneered after the beep. “This is important. I know you’re on a date with Hurricane, but I need her on this one. So you kids stop whatever nasty thing you’re doing and call. Me. Back.”

I threw the phone on my bed and tried on a dozen more shirts. A few minutes later, it buzzed with a text from Pete.

Paul. I am. On a date. With Hurricane.

I rolled my eyes and texted him back.

I know. I need her.

Within the minute, he called me back. Oh, now I had his attention.

“Hurricane speaking,” her voice greeted me. “You’re on speaker. This better be good. Pete and I are in the middle of something important.”

“Ew,” I scowled. “TMI, Hurricane.”

“Whatever,” I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “You needed me?”

I scratched the back of my neck. In all fairness, I hadn’t thought it all through this far. Now that I about to say it out loud, it did occur to me that I was being a little drama bitch.

“So, umm,” I stammered. “I have a date with your sister.”

Hurricane snorted. “And here I thought the little bitch was bullshitting me. So she’s really going out with you, huh? You have to teach me your ways, master.”

“Maybe some other time,” I sighed. “Right now, obviously, I need to think of something to knock her socks off.”

“And her panties, am I right?” she giggled in my ear and I narrowed my eyes though I was well aware she couldn’t see me.

“How are we not related? I said the same thing!”

“Ew, perv. I’m only now realizing I don’t wanna talk about you and my sister’s panties. Anyway, back on track.”

“You’re not helping, Hurricane,” I sat on the bed and I heard her sigh.

“Look, Rixon. What do you know about Dawn so far?”

I thought about it for a second. “She’s got a disturbing amount of sweaters. She likes lattes and muffins and stars? Also libraries.”

Hurricane fell silent for a moment and I was thinking what I’d just said wrong, mentally cringing. Eventually, she sighed. “That’s all?”

Sweaters. Latte. Muffins. Stars. Libraries. “Yeah?”

“Dude, no. I mean sure, but what can you do with that information? Wear an equally ugly sweater and take her on a date to the library?”

“Now that you put it that way—“ I mumbled under my breath.

“Paul, Dawn is old school. That’s what you can’t miss about her.”

I snapped my fingers. “Got it.”

“Did you now?” she sounded doubtful.

“Absolutely. She’s old school. Gotcha. I’ve seen the movies, Hurricane. I’ll set up the fanciest dinner, open the door for her, hold her chair, drink wine, whatever. Chicks dig that. I got this.”

Hurricane groaned. “Ugh. You absolute dumbass. No, Paul. When I say old school, I don’t mean fancy dinners. You can’t buy Dawn with shiny moves.”

Can’t buy Dawn with shiny moves? What in the hell was she even talking about?

“Then I’ll book a dimmer booth, I guess?” it came out as a question.

“Rixon. I need you to focus here, because I can’t let my sister go out with a dumb teenager and you’re ruining my date. Dawn is old school, right?”

“Right.” At least I had that one right.

“Right,” she repeated. “And when I say you can’t buy her with shiny things, Paul, I mean she’d be more impressed if you put some thought into it. It doesn’t have to be much. Trust me, she’d be way into a thoughtful simplicity that bling blings.”

“Right,” I frowned. “No bling blings. I guess. And what do you suggest I do?”

She snorted. “I don’t know, dude. You said it yourself. Soy lattes and muffins and stars. Take her out of town to watch the stars. You said you saw the movies.”

I paused for a minute. Soy lattes and muffins and stars. Out of town to watch the stars. What the shit.

“Hurricane,” I spoke softly. “You’re supposed to be my ally?”

“Umm, I am?” she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Then what the hell? Watching the stars? Cupcake, I don’t do midnight picnics.”

She sighed. “Suit yourself, Rixon. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Thanks but no thanks. Enjoy your date, suckers.”

Hurricane chuckled. “You too, cowboy.”

With that, she hung up on me and I shook my head, laughing. Sure, Hurricane was nice and all that, but Dawn was her sister and Dawn wanted me to blow this so that I’d leave her alone. Sure, last night told me otherwise. I’d been so close to kissing her, and I swore she would’ve let me. I don’t know if it was Don Juan’s exquisite coffee or the quiet winter night or she was high on carbon monoxide from the heating system in my car or if Don Juan had spiced her coffee. But she was gonna let me kiss her. But sure, because Paul Rixon is cocky prideful Paul Rixon, I just had to tease her. And now we were yet again in his stupid game of catch and because Dawn Lovelace was equally prideful, my odds had just dropped drastically. So I had to make a brilliant recovery. Midnight picnics? Yeah, right. So much for a brilliant recovery.

I dialed the number of the fanciest restaurant in town.

“Hello? Yes, I’d like to book a table for two. Tonight, at 8. The name is Paul Rixon.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Marian Hill – I want you~

I was fucking nervous.

It was goddamn insane. I was never nervous before dates. I was never nervous because of girls.

But maybe it was time for me to accept that this girl had a hidden talent of bringing a whole new mushy Paul from under all my nevers. But I was fucking nervous.

I had no reason to be. She was a girl and all I had to do was get a goddamn goodnight kiss and I would have unlocked access to a second date. Just like video games. It wasn’t that big a deal and definitely nothing to be nervous about. The date was gonna go so smoother than smooth jazz. I mean, come on. What girl could resist a really expensive dinner in a really pretentious restaurant?

I pulled into the parking lot in front of her dorm and got out of the car. The air was cold but actually pleasant for a late November night, so definitely not enough to shake all of that anxiety out of me. Nervous for a fucking date. What was I even? I took my phone out to text her that I was here and maybe insert a silly joke to get things started, when the doors to her dorm opened and she stepped out.

And I remembered why I was nervous.

She knocked me dumb, straight on my ass, breathless. She looked amazing. She wore her coat over a simple black knee-length dress with an intricate design around her shoulders, the same silky blue scarf I’d given her back last time around her neck and her hair was pulled back as usual, but not in a ponytail. No, it was some sort of weird, classy updo that made her look fallen out of aunt Lily’s vintage magazines. I don’t know what it was about her. It was a good girl hairstyle, a good girl outfit and a good girl wearing it. And here I was, struggling for words. Yeah, that’s why I was nervous. Because for all my bravado, I liked Dawn a lot. And it was a little disconcerting how I wasn’t sure what this whole thing between us meant.

“Wow, Dimples,” I whistled when she reached me. “Do you have any overdue library books? Cause you have the word ‘fine’ written all over.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “You could have waited until I got in the car, at least. You know, so that I could jump out of it.”

I laughed and I saw her break her façade with a little smile of her own.

“The night’s young,” I replied. “There’s more where that came from.”

She shook her head. “This is seriously gonna be the easiest victory in the history of bets.”

Without waiting for my reply or for me to answer, she moved to the other side of the car and got inside. I didn’t get the chance to play gentleman and open the door for her, but Dawn struck me as the kind of feminist who believed that strong, independent women can open doors for themselves. I shook my head and got behind the steering wheel, shooting her a look before driving away.

Gosh, I can’t put into words how amazing she looked. I itched all over to just reach out and touch her, maybe move a strand of her bangs out of her eyes, or to run my fingers up and down her arm. Yeah, I remember how good that had felt. Or maybe to intertwine my fingers with hers and hope she didn’t jump out of the car after all. But I could tell by the way her lips were pursed that, after last night’s slip, she wasn’t going to give in easily this time.

“So where are we going?” she asked casually and I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, shooting her a smile.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” she teased. “Might end up in a strip club.”

“Damn, Dimples,” I snapped my fingers playfully. “There goes my surprise. I hope it’s not too late to ask for a lap dance now. I can just pull over and—“

I didn’t even get to finish my sentence because she slapped my arm.

“Ow,” I laughed. “Okay, fine, I deserved that. But seriously, you’re gonna love it.”

Or I sure hoped so. I thought about what Hurricane had told me and how utterly absurd it was. My plan was way better. She was gonna swoon so badly. I’d pulled some strings and we were even gonna have the best muffins in town for desert. Just epic. I don’t think I’d ever gone to such lengths to impress a girl, so she’d better be impressed.

But then I looked over at her and she was watching the street lights with a mesmerized half smile that almost had me crash the car into a pole. I don’t know what the hell could’ve been so captivating about street lights. But her head moved with every one we passed, and then her eyes traveled up and down watching the dance of the snowflakes. Then she was observing the few people who got out of their homes in this cold. She was so fascinated about all of these little things, it was absurd.

Little things, I repeated in my head. Simplicity, Hurricane had said. I was such a dumbass. Fancy restaurants and the best muffins in town, my ass.

Before I could change my mind, I made a U turn, managing to get a small yelp out of Dawn.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked.

“Sorry,” I offered a half grin. “I just need to grab something from home real quick.”

“From home?” she frowned at me, her voice raising just a little. “Is this some Netflix and chill kind of thing? Because I have internet, Paul, I’ve seen the posts.”

I threw my head back laughing. Netflix and chill. Gosh, I couldn’t get enough of her.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” I winked and she gasped.

“Paul!”

“I’m kidding, Dimples. Relax. It’s just a change of plans.”

“A change of plans?” she narrowed her eyes. “I thought I was gonna love it.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, and instead of answering her, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of the restaurant.

“Hello? Yeah, this is Paul Rixon. I had a reservation for 8 o’clock I’d like to cancel. No, sir, just changed my mind. Nope. No, thanks. Okay, thank you. Bye.”

I hung up and turned to Dawn, who was watching my expectantly. “Well? Were you gonna love it?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Well, I wasn’t gonna hate it. But a bit too flashy for my taste. Hope you have a back-up plan.” I opened my mouth to reply, but she was quick to cut in. “And it better not be a strip club.”

“Buzz kill,” I muttered under my breath and she turned her head so that I wouldn’t catch her smiling. Not that she was very good at it. I was getting under her skin and we both knew it and she wasn’t happy about it. But she was also getting under my skin and I wasn’t that happy about it, either.

I pulled into the parking lot of a local market and she frowned at me, a cute scowl wrinkling her nose.

“A date at the supermarket isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she commented and I rolled my eyes.

“Dimples, for once, just shut up and let me sweep you off your feet,” I leaned in and, before I even realized what I was doing and before she could stop me, I dropped a kiss on her cheek. She gasped and was probably cursing at me by the time I got out of the car, walking out of the car with a smug smile plastered on my lips.

The market was small, but it was gonna have to do. I just hoped I’d find all that I wanted. I got a box of blueberry muffins first, then went down the aisles making a list in my head with all the stuff I needed for what I had in mind. I ended up not buying a lot of things, since most of what I needed, I had to get from home. I paid for it and made my way to the car, throwing the bag in the trunk and climbing behind wheel with a satisfied smile on my face.

Dawn was looking at me with her eyebrows raised and I enjoyed so much to see that curiosity got the best of her. Maybe she wasn’t that repulsed of the idea of going out with as she claimed to be. And maybe, just maybe, I’d win this bet.

“Well?” she asked eventually.

“Next stop, strip club,” I started the car as she rolled her eyes and drove straight to my house.

I heard Dawn draw in a sharp breath and she turned to me with wide eyes and an expression of awe on her face. And just naturally, I shot her a smug smile. What can I say? This was familiar territory. I was used to girls being knocked off their feet when they realized what a catch I was. Dawn seemed to be the only one who was taking her sweet time with it.

“You live here?” she raised an eyebrow and I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I just gotta grab something real quick,” I told her. “I’d ask you in, but I don’t want my family thinking you’re just tonight’s fling that I’ll have to sneak out in the morning.”

She scoffed and shot me a teasing smirk. “Aren’t I?”

The answer came so fast to me it took me a little aback. But I didn’t dwell on it and, instead, I allowed myself to return her smile and answered.

“No.”

She chuckled. “Not for lack of trying, I’m sure.”

“No, that’s not it,” I unbuckled my seat belt. “But you’re not Samantha, Dawn. You’re not a fling.”

I’m sure that, hadn’t it been for the dim light, I would’ve seen a faint blush coloring her cheeks. But I did catch the small glint in her eyes and I had to admit I was proud of myself. It was a first, me actually saying the right thing for a change.

“Good,” she replied. “I had no intention of coming in anyway. The whole Netflix and chill thing.”

I laughed and shook my head at her. “Lie to yourself all you want, Dimples. But we both know you’d love to Netflix and chill with me.”

I winked at her and got out of the car, leaving her muttering something under her breath I was pretty sure I didn’t wanna know. I sneaked inside my own house, hoping Lily and Ross were upstairs in their bedroom by now. I didn’t want to have to offer them any explanation. And it would’ve certainly been awkward to have them meet Dawn after I’d admitted to wanting to bone her and after being so adamant about having no intention to date her. Especially since I was on an actual date with her.

I raided the kitchen and grabbed anything I may have had any use for, throwing everything in my backpack. I even got my hands on a blanket to make this a proper midnight picnic. I had it all, basically. I had muffins, I had refreshments, I had food. What was I missing?

I nearly slapped my forehead. What was the most Dawn thing I could think of? Besides sweaters, of course. Latte. I had completely forgotten about lattes. I checked my watch. Dawn had already been waiting for me for 10 minutes in the car, and another 15 back at the supermarket, so she’d spent more than two thirds of this date on her own. Wasn’t going well. Shit. But I couldn’t begin to hope to make this the perfect date without her lattes. So I did a quick Google search and found a WikiHow article about making a vanilla soy latte. The recipe looked hard enough, but I had to pull it off. Shit.

I looked through Lily’s cabinets and luckily found soy milk, vanilla syrup and the ever-present coffee beans. I guess it’s a good thing we were all such huge coffee junkies. It took me another 15 minutes and I was pretty sure Dawn had stolen my car and had driven herself home by now, but if, by whatever miracle, she was still here, at least I had soy latte. Made with my own two hands. Jesus Christ.

I poured the latte into a thermos and shoved in the backpack with the rest of the things and made my way to my car. I threw the backpack in the trunk and climbed inside the car to find a pissed off Dawn in the passenger’s seat.

“I’m winning the hell out of this bet,” she simply stated, glaring at me. “45 minutes and the date hasn’t even started yet. And I still feel like stabbing you with my high heels.”

“Rough. I like it,” I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Dirty little Dawn.” She slapped my shoulder and I laughed. “Okay, sorry. I’m sorry I made you wait, but I promise, it’s gonna be worth it.”

She didn’t comment on that, so I started the car, hoping I could make good on my promise. It was almost funny how concerned I was with this whole date going well. We rode in silence, Dawn probably bored and pissed after almost an hour of sitting in this car, and me, nervous as hell, playing scenarios in my head from her laughing in my face at my lame attempts at Nicholas Sparks-inspired dating with shitty soy latte, and all the way to her realizing she’d been hopelessly in love with me this whole time and that she couldn’t resist me anymore. Well. This could go both ways.

I parked the car in the parking lot of my uncle’s firm and Dawn looked out the window.

“Anderson Enterprises?” she frowned. “Let me guess. Another stop?”

“Nope,” I smirked. “This is our destination. Ross Anderson is my uncle. This is his firm.”

I was used to girls fangirling about me being Ross Anderson’s nephew, since uncle Ross and his business was a pretty big deal in San Francisco. But of course, not Dawn. She simply stared at me.

“Fascinating,” she mumbled. “So what are we doing here again?”

My smile grew wider and wider. “We’re breaking in.”

At first, she just blinked at me like she was trying to make sense of it. Then, as the words registered, she let out a groan.

“Breaking in,” she repeated. “God. What is it with everyone and breaking and entering? I just don’t see it.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course morally-challenged Dawn would have an issue with it. I’d be lying to say I hadn’t seen it coming. But since she was constantly challenging me, what was wrong with me challenging her a little, too, from time to time?”

“What’s wrong, Dimples?” I teased. “Scared to go a little crazy? I completely understand if you’re overwhelmed. Maybe we can still catch that restaurant reservation.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and, before she could reply, I pulled out an access card out of my pocket that I’d managed to steal from Ross back at home. “Besides, it’s not breaking and entering if we just walk through the front door, right?”

She rolled her eyes at me and I almost laughed at her exasperated expression.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she mumbled and got out of the car and I was quick to follow.

I took the backpack from the trunk and, technically, we didn’t walk through the front door, since there were guards I would’ve had to explain myself to. Instead, we took a back entrance that was leading straight to uncle Ross’ office.

“So what are we doing here again?”  a way too curious Dawn couldn’t help but ask as we rode the elevator to the last floor.

“Be patient, Dimples. You’re literally about to find out in two minutes.”

And with that, we made it to Ross’ office. I paused a second for effect, turned to her, winked and opened the door.

~SOUNDTRACK: Train – Drops of Jupiter~

“Welcome to my favorite spot in town,” I told her, but I doubted she heard me at all.

She walked into the office, with small steps and her lips slightly open in awe, her eyes shining as the light of all the stars reflected in their molted brown. Ross’ office was enormous and the best part about it was that it was on the last floor and that one of the walls was entirely made of glass. The room was dark and the city was bright before us. The snow had stopped and the skies had cleared enough for the stars to mirror the city lights. It was gorgeous. And Dawn in the middle of it, her silhouette swimming in starlight. I knew I’d made the right choice.

I took my sweet time watching her as she took her time taking in the view, gasping every now and then. Eventually, she turned to me and shrugged off her coat, smiling at me sweetly and it was time for me to pull off my killer move. Without taking my eyes off her, I pulled off my phone, opened YouTube and in no time, a soft piano filled the silence. Dawn’s gasp didn’t fail to follow.

“That’s Drops of Jupiter. That’s my favorite song.”

I bit my lip against a smirk. “What a coincidence.” But she smiled back at me, because she knew. Hurricane was a great partner in crime to have.

“This is gorgeous, Paul,” she sighed dreamily, turning her back on me again and drinking in the view like she was dying of thirst. “From up here, I feel so little and everything is so endless before us. I believe too much in science and know too much about the universe to admit the existence of divinity or whatever. But if Heaven’s real, this must be it.”

I didn’t say anything back. I didn’t feel like she was talking to me. Like I was peaking on a little conversation she was having with herself. So instead, I let her have her moment and I opened the backpack, took out the blanket and laid it on the floor right in front of the glass wall, pulled out the snacks and the latte and the muffins and sat down, waiting for her to snap out of it.

She didn’t for a while, but I didn’t mind. Drops of Jupiter played on repeat and I found myself thinking I couldn’t come up with a song that sounded more like her. It fitted her whole personality. I couldn’t pretend I was smart or romantic enough to understand the lyrics. Acting like summer, walking like rain. Listening like spring and talking like June. I couldn’t even begin to make any sense of that. But that seemed fitting, too. I didn’t get all of Dawn, either. Maybe this was the charm of it all.

Eventually, she turned around and caught sight of my little picnic. And for the first time, the struggle in her expression was gone. The one that always let me know she was impressed and giving in, but she was still trying to hit the brakes and remind herself she was supposed to hate me. That was gone. The look on her face right now, it was genuine. And it wasn’t about any bet either. It was just me and her and the city of San Francisco at our feet.

“Better than the fancy restaurant?” I asked as she sat down next to me, tucking her feet under her carefully, minding her dress. I offered her the box of muffins and she beamed at the sight of them, taking one and moaning a little when she tasted it.

“Way better,” she spoke around the mouthful of muffin and I chuckled at seeing her so… less uptight. Carefree. So close to what seemed like herself around me. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Rixon. Do you bring many girls up here?”

“No,” I was quick to answer. “Haven’t brought any. Up until now.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Sure, sure. That’s so cliché. And not to sound more cliché, but you probably tell each one of them they’re the first one. Did Samantha like it?”

I could tell she was teasing me, but the idea still sent a spike of rage through me. How could she even joke about thinking that she and Samantha belonged in the same sentence? Samantha had been a hit and run. For Dawn, I’d gone to extends I’d never gone to before just to get one kiss. And maybe a second date. Dawn, I wanted to date. Yeah. Not that I’d ever say that out loud. There’d be a line at the door of people who’d laugh in my face, starting with Lily, Ross and Pete.

I sighed and turned to her. “I come here every weekend past closing hours. If I can’t come here, then I find some other place quiet. That’s why I was on the Kezar Stadium on the 4^th of July.”

She nudged me with her shoulder playfully. “Big bad world hurt Paul? Popularity getting too overwhelming for poor shy Paul?”

I rolled my eyes. I think I preferred huffing and puffing Dawn to this little sassy beauty in a black dress.

“It’s not that,” I still chose to answer truthfully. “I just enjoy some privacy from time to time. In broad daylight, whether you claim to be true to yourself and shit like that or you belong to several circles and you’re whatever variety of popular, you always feel compelled to be some version of who you are. You’re always someone that the other people want to see, depending on who you talk to. But at night, in the dark, in complete silence, you don’t have to do that anymore. You can be whoever the hell you wanna be. And I find it comforting that I can be no one from time to time.”

I expected her to mock me again and I was honestly starting to regret opening up like that about this. God. I was turning into a chick flick movie character. But to my surprise, she didn’t mock me. I looked sideways at her and found her watching me curiously, like she was seeing me for the first time. Like she got it, whatever I was saying.

“It is,” she replied. “But I’m surprised you’d give up Paul Rixon for even half a night in exchange for… no one.”

I didn’t sense sarcasm or irony in her tone, like she was genuinely curious about it, so I answered.

“I’m not giving him up,” I smiled. “I’m putting him to rest. You see, it gets exhausting being in his skin for so long.”

“Ah,” she bit her lip against a smile. “I see. Even Paul Rixon has enough of douche Paul from time to time.”

I laughed this time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She laughed, too and we fell into a comfortable silence. I kept stealing glances at her and she caught me every time and smiled at me, as if she knew exactly that I couldn’t control myself. We ate muffins and I offered her the thermos, hoping to knock her out with my amazing soy latte.

“Latte?” I asked, smirking smugly. “Made it myself.”

“Is that so?” she asked and took it from my hand, pouring some of it into a plastic cup. She took a sip, but it was too dark for me to see her face and read her expression. Eventually, she let out a hum. “Hmm, it’s good. Good job. It’s pretty great.”

I frowned at how off she sounded. “Really?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Can I have a cup, too?”

“No!” she moved it out of my reach. “I, umm, I’m gonna drink it all. It’s just that good.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. She was a terrible liar. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

She closed her eyes and put the thermos down, laughing silently, her shoulders shaking. “Oh my God, it’s terrible,” she managed to get out through giggles and I couldn’t even get mad at her like this.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” I reached for the thermos. “Give me that.”

She watched me, her shoulders still moving up and down from her chuckling and I poured myself a cup, chugging it down. I waited for the taste to sink in. And then it did. I scowled and spit it back in the cup, as Dawn threw her head back laughing whole-heartedly. How she’d managed to actually swallow that was beyond my understanding.

“It tastes like dirty socks.”

She nodded forcefully and we both burst into a round of laughter until we couldn’t breathe anymore. And it was nice. If dating were always this great, maybe I’d date more. Or maybe I’d date more of her. We fit, in a weird, surprising totally unexpected way. If we put aside the cat and mouse part, maybe we weren’t actually so different. Just like I’d predicted. And by the looks of it, she was slowly realizing it, too.

“I don’t care about the bet anymore,” I blurted out after we calmed down from all the laughter and she frowned at me.

“What?”

“The bet,” I repeated. “I won’t chase that kiss just for the sake of winning a bet. I’ll kiss you when you want me to kiss you.”

“When?” she teased. “Not if?”

“Nope. You will. Deny it all you want. And if you never want to see me again after tonight, it’s your call. Though I’m quite confident in my making out skills, I doubt a goodnight kiss can change your mind.”

“So the bet is off?” she asked.

“It’s off. I’m throwing the ball in your corner.”

We stood up and gathered our things and walked in silence to my car. I didn’t touch her and she looked at me in a way I couldn’t read. I opened the door for her and we rode in silence to her dorm. Then I opened the door for her again and I walked her to the entrance to her dorm, still in silence. And it wasn’t heavy. But neither of us felt the need to fill it with unnecessary words just for the sake of having them spoken out loud.

Before going inside, she turned to me, smiling sheepishly.

“This was surprisingly nice.”

“Ouch,” I put a hand over my chest, feigning hurt.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well,” I shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not my fault you didn’t give me any credit at all.” I dared take a step closer. “Maybe this was my plan all along.” Another step. She exhaled sharply. “I set the bar low enough.” One more step. We were standing close enough now for me to smell her sweet perfume and her cherry chapstick. “I lowered your expectations so that I could sweep you off your feet easily.”

And then she did something that took me aback. She took a step forward, too. Strands of her hair tickled my skin and I could feel the heat radiating out of her. Her breathing was paced and I thought for a moment I could hear her fastened pulse. Or maybe it was mine.

“Then it’s too bad you called off the bet,” she teased me and I swore her words held a hidden invitation. I smiled wickedly.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

She returned my smile with one I hadn’t seen on her yet. Flirtatious. Sexy. Cunning. I almost grabbed her right there and pushed her into the nearest wall, but something told me tonight wasn’t about breaking boundaries and taking risks. Tonight had been about opening doors.

“I’d probably slap the hell out of you,” she replied and I let out a chuckle, watching goosebumps raise on her neck and shoulders when my breath hit her face.

“Thought so,” I replied and cupped her face in my hand. She stopped breathing at all and she closed her eyes. It occurred to me that, just like last night, maybe she’d let me kiss her. But I reminded myself. No breaking boundaries. No taking risks. Opening doors. So I let my lips hover above her mouth, then her nose, then her forehead and her eyes and I eventually stopped at her left cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

Then I moved away and her body warmth was replaced with the cold late November night.

“Goodnight, Dawn.”

She opened her eyes, flustered, but still offered a smile. “See you on Monday, Paul.”

A promise, I thought. An invitation.

She turned on her heels and walked inside without another word and I walked to my car. I climbed behind the steering wheel, breathing heavily. A familiar shade of blue caught my eye and I looked to my right to see Dawn’s scarf. She’d forgotten it again.

I ran my fingers over it and picked it up, smiling a little. Turns out I was meant to have it.

 

Well, longest chapter I’ve ever written. 6k words. But with Paul and Dawn, when I get to writing, I can’t seem to stop. Let me know what you think? And who do you prefer? Paul and Dawn, or Pete and Aria? Also, how many of you would like to read an excerpt written from Aria’s POV on her story with Pete?

Lots of love,

xoxo

13: Chapter 12: We love like battleships

CHAPTER 12 – WE LOVE LIKE BATTLESHIPS

~SOUNDTRACK: Jason Reeves – Save my heart~

~Dawn’s POV~

“Optical astronomy is the oldest kind of astronomy. Telescopes paired with a charge-coupled device or spectroscopes are the most common instruments used. The Earth's atmosphere interferes somewhat with optical observations, so adaptive optics and space telescopes are used to obtain the highest possible image quality.”

I shook my head and blinked fast, realizing I’d pretty much blanked out for the last five minutes. What was the professor talking about again?

“In this wavelength range, stars are highly visible, and many chemical spectra can be observed to study the chemical composition of stars, galaxies and nebulae.”

Right. Optical astronomy. Gosh, my focus was pretty down today. Had been like this the whole weekend, now that I thought about it. Every time I tried to open a book or to dig up whatever NASA article I wanted to read, there he was. Popping into my thoughts as uninvited as he had in my life. Loudly and obnoxiously and wearing a smug grin that was supposed to awake something in me. The bad news? It had.

I shook my head again and tried to concentrate on the lecture. It was Monday, so I was probably gonna see him soon anyway, seeing as I was gonna hit the library after classes. I was still gonna have to deal with his presence and my confused thoughts and feelings anyway. No reason to dwell on it now. Nope, none whatsoever. No reason to remember the look on his face when he saw me on Friday night, like he had to catch his breath. Or the glances he kept stealing my way in his car. Or the way he’d changed the entire route of the date and had come up with the most amazing plan to sweep me off my feet. The bad news? He had. The muffins. The view. Drops of Jupiter. Even that awful soy latte, because he’d actually put in enough effort to make it himself. Then the talk. Seeing him so serious and intense. Seeing him look at me like that. Like he could knock the breath out of me lungs with just one smile. The bad news? He did. And I just knew. I knew I was gonna lose the bet. I knew I couldn’t go on pretending like I didn’t know. Like I didn’t know that I wasn’t immune to Paul Rixon. I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was something about him. I had no idea what, since most of the time he was able to bring out the worst in me. But yeah, there was something about him. All it took was one look at him every now and then and I’d be breathless. Last night had been the epic conclusion to that. Aria was right, I was a pro at lying to myself. Because I felt something for Paul. Even if it was just undeniable attraction, though I suspected it ran a little deeper. As a response to that thought, the memory of him kissing my cheek popped into my head and my fingers flew to brush the skin his lips had touched. Even if the bet was off, I would’ve let him kiss me then. And I low-key hated myself for the lack of absolute control, but the fact was out there. Paul Rixon was under my skin like poison and I couldn’t shake him off.

I nearly slapped myself and forced my mind to stay focused on the wave lengths the professor was talking about. Not five seconds later, my phone buzzed with a text. Yes, because the universe hated me.

You’re late.

I suppressed a smile. No. Bad Dawn. You don’t smile at his texts. Yes, so maybe I still wasn’t done with denial. But at the moment this tiny amount of denial I held on to could stop me from doing something really stupid. And I was Dawn Lovelace. I was a good girl with great academics and an impeccable record. I couldn’t afford doing stupid things. Not yet, anyway.

Some of us have classes.

I hit send and his reply came almost instantly.

The latte’s getting cold.

There it was again, that smile. I just couldn’t stop it, could I? I bit my lip against it and ignored the professor entirely, knowing I couldn’t even begin to hope to summon even an ounce of attention now.

I’m sure all that ego burns hot enough to keep it warm.

Did you just say I’m hot?

I rolled my eyes before replying. How did that backfire on me?

It’s a talent, baby. Also, even all of my hotness can’t keep your latte warm. My world is cold without you in it.

You did not just say that. It was so cheesy I threw up in my mouth a little.

This time, his reply took a little longer and, instead of a text, I got a picture of him with sunglasses on and the straw from a Starbucks coffee in his mouth. The caption said, Deal with it.

I let out a laughter that was a little louder that I’d anticipated and my hand flew to my mouth as my eyes widened in shock. I’d just snickered out loud in class. My professor paused and looked at me over his glasses and I was sure I’d blushed to the tips of my ears.

“Miss Lovelace. I’ve been teaching this subject for 40 years and not once have I found optical astronomy particularly amusing. Do you have a joke you’d be willing to share with us?”

I gulped and cleared my throat. “No, sir. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head slightly and stared at me for a few more seconds before resuming his lecture. God, this was as good a moment as any for the earth to swallow me whole. This must have been one of the most embarrassing moments I’d ever lived. I, Dawn Lovelace, had been scolded in class. Because of Paul Rixon. Of all people.

I pulled out my phone and, as much as I tried to be mad at him, the moment I saw that picture again it still brought a smile on my lips. Well, I couldn’t very much hold it against him since I was as much to blame for allowing myself to be distracted by him in class.

You know, according to the laws of our bet, I am perfectly entitled to cut you off as of today, seeing as the condition of the goodnight kiss hasn’t been met.

Stop it, you. You know I love it when you talk nerdy to me. I get tingly all over.

I rolled my eyes, but before I could reply I got another text from him.

Besides, I called the bet off. It’s against the laws of the bet to reinforce said conditions now.

Says who?

Paul fucking Rixon. See you at the library, Dimples.

I bit my lip against a smile and typed in a reply. I should be there in about an hour. See you.

The rest of the lecture was murderous. I still couldn’t focus and I constantly felt like the professor kept staring my way, so I had to at least pretend like I was paying attention. And I really wasn’t. The paradox of Paul kept nudging at the back of my mind and I couldn’t shake it. It was disconcerting. I couldn’t claim that he was a kind, generous puppy in disguise under the form of a bad boy, because that wasn’t the case. He was still shallow and smug and cocky and annoying. And I didn’t buy the cliché that, deep down, he was different. Oh, no. He was all that. He was obnoxious and rude and yet, above all that, he was so much more. He could be serious. He could be intense. I could read emotions on his face I had no idea he was capable of and the same fingers covered in cigarette stains that could drive racing cars at insane speed were also able to touch my cheek in the gentlest way. Paul Rixon was a sea of contradictions and I constantly got submerged in them, whether I wanted to or not.

As soon as the lecture was over, I gathered my books and was just about to walk out the door when the professor called on me.

“Miss Lovelace? A word?”

I gulped and forced a polite smile, stepping towards him. He didn’t look mad, just disappointed, and I think that stung more.

“Miss Lovelace,” he leaned against his desk, rubbing his moustache absent-mindedly. “I couldn’t help but notice you were somewhat preoccupied today, to say so. Is something the matter?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry about the… umm, incident earlier. It won’t happen again.”

He fell pensive for a few seconds before replying. “Good. I’m only telling you this because you’re one of our best students here, Miss Lovelace. I’d hate for you to get sidetracked. You show too much potential.”

“Thank you, sir,” I blinked at him, not sure how to respond to that. He seemed to have sensed my distress because he smiled at me and shot me a look over his glasses.

“Dismissed.”

I shot another forced polite smile and turned on my heels and left.

~SOUNDTRACK: Daughtry – Battleships~

It was so humiliating, to have the professor scold me like I was a little kid who was too busy playing with her toys to pay attention in class. And the way he’d paid me that compliment felt incredibly double-edged to me. Sure, I was one of their best students, but I showed lack of discipline. That’s how it had sounded to me.

I made my way to the library with fast steps and I was already pissed by the time I got there. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t Paul’s fault that I had chosen to answer his texts. I could have just ignored him until the class was over. Also, Paul had no fault whatsoever in the fact that I was having trouble focusing even before his texts.

But then again, my focus issues were also because of him. I gritted my teeth. Stupid Paul with his stupid jokes making me laugh and his stupid perfect date and his stupid soy lattes and his stupid grins making my stupid heart skip a stupid beat.

I walked inside the library and made my way towards my table, where Paul was already waiting for me, a huge grin spreading across his face at my sight. And upon seeing that grin, I almost forgot I was mad. At him, at myself, at the optical astronomy professor, at this whole situation. All it took was a smile and I almost offered one of my own. Because that’s the kind of effect he had on me.

Almost. Almost forgot. Almost smiled. But then her eyes fell on her seat, which was supposed to be empty. Instead, well, it wasn’t. Her usual seat was taken by a Paul Rixon-standards bimbo. Her hair was long and curly, her lips were pink and her lashes long. Long legs, deep cleavage, some books opened in front of her that she was pretending to read when, in fact, she was busy making googly eyes at Paul. Well, granted, Paul didn’t look her way once since I’d walked in, but I was too blinded by rage to think straight. That was my seat. And he hadn’t even bothered to tell her it was taken just so that he could keep his bimbos near. Had he no shame?

I stopped dead in my track and glared at him and at the chick in my seat pointedly and he frowned at my expression, which I’m pretty sure was murderous. His lips formed a small ‘O’ in confusion, but I didn’t stick around. Instead, I turned on my heels and walked out of the library. Even my study mood was gone now. Talk about wasting a perfectly good day for studying.

I was walking fast down the alley, hoping I could just teleport to my dorm faster because I could already hear Paul’s steps hurrying after me. Of course. I should’ve known better. I walked as fast as I could without running but I was tiny and he was tall and athletic and, in no time, I felt his hand around my elbow, turning me around.

“Hey. Hey, wait. Dawn, wait!”

I snatched my arm out of his grasp and crossed my arms over my chest, pursing my lips. He extended his arms, raising his eyebrows confused.

“What the hell? What’d I do now?”

I rolled my eyes and turned around about to walk away, but he caught my elbow again.

“Not so fast, Dimples. Alright, spit it out. What ruffled your feathers? You were fine an hour ago, when we were texting.”

I huffed. “Yes, I was,” I shrieked and he just blinked at my raised voice. “I was, before my professor kept me after class to scold me for texting.”

His eyebrows flew up and I could practically see the wheels spinning behind his eyes as he tried to make sense of why I was so pissed.

“Alright,” he spoke slowly. “And that’s my fault because…”

I threw my hands in the air exasperated. Was he so dense? “Because! Because you text me in class like it’s okay! I have responsibilities, you know. I can’t just spend every minute flirting like I don’t have a care in the world.”

He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Right. I think I followed about half of that. Or you could’ve, like, you know, not texted me back?”

I huffed again and clenched my fists, opening my mouth and closing it in an attempt to reply through the anger. “Right, so this is my fault? It’s my fault you sent me that ridiculous picture that had me snickering out loud in class?”

“Right,” he repeated, even more dumb founded. “So it’s my fault… for making you laugh?”

“Damn right,” I shouted. “And my seat, Paul! You know that’s where I sit every single day. If you wanna pick up chicks and flirt your way through the whole university, do it in your free time and out of my comfort zone, because I don’t feel like changing my whole schedule to match your flings.”

He stepped forward, his hands in front of him defensively. “Wait, is this what it’s about? Dawn, I don’t even know that chick.”

“Save it, Paul. I don’t care. It was my seat and you were sitting right there the whole time.”

“Dawn, I tried to tell her—“

“Well, that didn’t work, did it?”

“Dawn, if you’d just listen to me—“

“Oh, I think I’ve heard enough!”

“Dawn, just calm down and—“

“I am calm!”

I felt it before I could realize he’d moved. In hindsight, my brain did register the movement. I’d seen his nostrils flare. I’d seen him purse his lips. I’d seen the decision in his eyes before moving. I’d seen his fists clench and I’d seen him move towards me. But before I could process everything I’d seen, I felt his hands at my cheeks. I felt his chest against my palms. I felt his lips crashing down on mine like a rainstorm and I felt the shock of the collision from the tips of my fingers and into the heels of my soles. I felt him loosen a breath as I held mine.

And then I realized. Paul was kissing me. For a second, I didn’t know how to react. It was intense and electrifying and it was raw and messy like a conclusion to every step of this relationship. I clutched his shirt tight and struggled not to get lost in the way his lips moved so fiercely over mine as if he knew all the right ways to make me lose my mind. But then it hit me again. Paul was kissing me.

I opened my eyes and used my hands resting on his chest to push him away. He was panting, looking completely disheveled. I allowed myself a second to enjoy that, his flushed cheeks and his swollen lips. Before bringing my arm up and slapping him across the face as hard as I could.

He brought his hand to his face, looking at me wide-eyed.

“I told you I’d slap you if you tried to kiss me,” I mumbled, noticing that I was just as out of breath as he was.

And I looked for that rage again. For the reasons why I’d been so angry at him just seconds ago. I came down empty. I mean, the anger was still there, but so was he. Breathless and flushed and confused and looking at me like he was freefalling and I was the gravity pulling him down.

So I did the rational thing. I let physics work its magic. I took exactly three steps and threw my hands around his neck. His face told me he was completely taken aback, but his body was ready. His arms caught me mid-flight and wrapped steadily around my waist. My lips found his and the bastard was prepared, gasping in my mouth, emanating smugness through each pore. Oh, he knew exactly what he did to me, but two could play this game. My hands went to his collar and I pulled him closer and closer like, even though we were pressed into each other, there was still too much space between us. I arched my back and he complied, crouching to deepen the kiss, walking me backwards until my back was pressed into some car. And God, it was intense. If I could kiss Paul Rixon for the rest of my days, it still wouldn’t be enough. We poured every ounce of rage and tension and attraction we felt for each other into that kiss until we were both out of breath and we had to break the kiss.

We stood like that, mouths hovering above each other’s, panting, with eyes wide open and staring at each other. I couldn’t read him. I’d never really been able to, but for once, I found myself really trying to look at him and see past how much of him he wanted me to see. I wanted to know if his inside right now matched this drooling mess shivering under my fingertips. I wanted to know whether I could really bend Paul Rixon like I seemed to have done just now.

I drew my fingernails down his temples, enjoying the way he shivered under my touch, then down his chest and used the same move as before, pushing him away and shooting him a casual smile. Though I knew it was useless. He could read it on my face as well as I could on his. But I wasn’t gonna give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he got to me. So I let out a breath, straightened my jacket and my backpack, took my time putting my hair back together after the mess his fingers had left behind and licked my lips when I knew he was watching. I could still taste the tobacco in my mouth and I could smell his cologne on my sweater, but he didn’t need to know or see that.

When I was done putting on a show out of regaining my composure, I shoved my hands in my pockets and bit my lip lazily, allowing a small smile to shine through.

“Goodbye, Paul.”

I left him dazed and confused, still panting, his untamed hair wearing the map of my fingers and his lips stained with my lip gloss. I left him with soft scratches from my nails on his temples, probably wondering what the hell had just happened here. Well, that made two of us.

I walked away, knowing he was looking after me.

 

14: Chapter 13: The illusion of a choice

CHAPTER 13 – THE ILLUSION OF A CHOICE

~SOUNDTRACK: Barns Courtney – Fire~

~Paul’s POV~

Pete simply blinked at me, looking like he was about to pull off some movie-like dramatics and spit out his coffee.

“Paul,” he spoke slowly. “Why am I only hearing this now?”

I simply shrugged. It was Friday and we were sitting in Starbucks, ditching the Constitutional Law class to just catch up. In all truthness, he’d been disgustingly wrapped up in his little romance with Aria as I had in mine with Dawn. Not that I could call mine and Dawn’s a romance. Or anything at all, really. She’d been pretty adamant about that.

“Gee, I don’t know,” I pretended to think about it. “Probably because we’re not high school cheerleaders who bond over lipstick and crushes? Yeah, that might be it.”

He glared at me. “Dude. It’s a big deal. You kissed Dawn.”

“And then she slapped the living shit out of me.”

“And then she kissed you.”

I paused and took a deep breath. Yeah. Yeah, she had. I was never going to admit this to Pete, but that kiss, well, both of them, had shaken me pretty good. I don’t know why. I’d kissed more girls this month alone than Pete probably had for his entire high school era. Every time, kissing had seemed to me like something automatic that chicks overrated in ways I couldn’t understand. I mean, it was just lips contact and saliva. What was the big deal about it? Sure, it could be erotic if both participants know what the hell they’re doing and if it’s bound to lead to something more, but that was pretty rare, even for me.

The kiss with Dawn had been none of that. That kiss had been what fire must’ve tasted like if it wouldn’t burn out fucking tongues off. And I was still pretty sure it had managed to do exactly that. I couldn’t explain it. It hadn’t been automatic or mechanical and it hadn’t been erotic. But I saw what the big deal was about it. I had no intention to kiss her at the moment. I was just so taken aback by her irrational anger and she just wouldn’t stop screaming at me and I gave in to a momentary impulse. I wanted her to shut the hell up, so I kissed her quiet. Seemed to do the job. What I hadn’t anticipated was that small gasp she’d let out when our lips touched. I don’t think she was even aware of it, but it did things to my brain and I felt its vibrations into the depth of my stomach. And that was the exact moment when I knew just how fucked up Dawn Lovelace had me. Oh, it was bad.

The next thing I hadn’t anticipated was the slap. Though I can’t say I was exactly surprised. In fact, the surprise of the slap faded into how insanely hot she looked right then. Oh, she was pretty messed up herself and I took great pride in knowing I’d made her like that. She was panting and her cheeks were pink and there was a flame in her eyes I wanted to swallow me whole on the spot.

And the climax of it all had been the moment when she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me back. I wasn’t about to say it out loud, but I’d lost quite some sleep on that particular scene. I could still hear her heavy breathing or feel her nails digging into my temples or her hands at my collars pulling me closer. Oh, she was toxic, alright. And I was one weak bastard. One taste and I was already addicted.

“Yo, are you with me?” Pete snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and I flinched.

“What?”

“Dunno, man,” he smirked at me. “You went all dreamy on me. Dawn has you all wrapped around her little finger, bro.”

I sighed. “Yeah,” I didn’t even bother to deny it, since we both knew it would’ve been a lie. “Yeah, she does.”

“So have you seen her since then?” he sipped on his coffee.

“Yeah. We texted a little. We’re still sitting together at the library.”

He waited for me to continue and, when I didn’t, he raised his eyebrows at me. “And?”

“And nothing,” I shrugged. “She acts like nothing happened. Like I’m still douche Paul getting on her nerves and she’s doing me a favor by hanging out with me.”

“Huh,” Pete pursed his lips. “Did you try to talk to her about it?”

I pursed my lips, too, averting my gaze. “Yeah. About that.”

Pete glared. “You didn’t, did you?”

“So, umm, about the other day,” I tried, and Dawn didn’t even look up from her book.

“It’s okay. I’m over the whole texting in class thing.”

Far from the point, but I wasn’t gonna push it. “No, I mean that other thing—“

She finally looked up and, if I was hoping to find something in her eyes that would betray the fact that she had any feeling whatsoever about this, I found nothing. She either didn’t care at all or she could nail the poker face.

“The seat thing? Yeah, I’m over that, too. For real, I’m not mad.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned forward over the desk. “No, Dawn. The other thing.”

She frowned at me, shooting a confused smirk, but for the briefest of moments, I saw it. The glint of mischief, the teasing in her eyes. Oh, she was playing me, alright.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s just say it’s not for lack of trying,” I reassured Pete and I noticed him looking at me funny. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied a little too fast. “I mean, umm. I’m just wondering. What would you have said anyway? The whole kissing thing. Where does that leave you?”

Well, that was a great fucking question. I’d been so adamant in trying to get her to talk to me that I had no idea what I was even gonna say to her. What the hell did I even want? Since when was I so keen on talking about my feelings? It’s not like I wanted Dawn to be my girlfriend or something. Or did I? No, definitely not. Paul Rixon isn’t one woman’s man. Though the scary thing is, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I actually wouldn’t have minded starting something with Dawn. My biggest issue was that I usually got bored with girls too fast because I found that they had nothing interesting to offer. That was far from being the problem with Dawn. Most of the time I thought she was a bottomless well, like the deeper I sunk, the more unlikely I was to reach the end of it. And I couldn’t think of a moment when I could get bored of her.

I remembered the first night I saw her, on the 4^th of July, on the Kezar Stadium. It was dark and, objectively speaking, Aria was more like the kind of girl I usually went for, but Dawn was more like one of those fireworks lighting up the sky. And the even from a distance, I could tell she was brighter than the light of all the fireworks. And the closer I got, the more I realized that her presence, that little wrinkle of her nose she got every time she was pissed, the way she huffed and puffed and crossed her arms over her chest, and that small smile she rewarded me with every now and then, the whole persona of Dawn Lovelace was louder than any firework. Oh yeah. I was screwed. Maybe it was time to acknowledge that.

So to answer Pete’s question…

“That leaves me more clueless than I was before the kiss,” I rubbed the back of my neck and he chuckled and shook his head.

“So what now? You’re giving up?”

I scowled. “Hell no. The game is on, my man. Now I fight harder than ever.”

“Huh,” he clicked his tongue, giving me the same pointed funny look from before. “So your mind is pretty much made, isn’t it? You really want Dawn.”

It wasn’t a question, but I found right then that the answer was pretty damn obvious.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I really do.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Alex Clare – Tell me what you need~

I got to the library and took my seat, but Dawn was nowhere in sight. I threw a notebook on her side of the table to make it clear that the seat was taken, having learned my lesson from this Monday. Not that I’d minded the outcome of it, but I wasn’t taking my chances again with kraken Dawn. That part of her was scary. Hot. But scary.

I considered texting her, but the whole week had been somewhat awkward and forced and even the small amount of texting we’d done had been a little weird, like we weren’t sure how to talk to each other. So maybe I could just hold back just a little on the snark until we were out of the weird zone.

I waited for about an hour – actually managing to do some school work, surprisingly, so I guess Dawn’s sense of responsibility was starting to rub off on me – and she still wasn’t here, so I figured it was as good a time as any for a cigarette break.

I walked out of the library and lit up a cigarette, putting it between my lips. After the few first puffs, I realized I was still as restless as I was inside. Usually cigarettes managed to relieve some of the stress, but maybe this whole Dawn situation was frying up my brains worse than I thought. So I took a walk. I walked and smoked about half a pack before deciding that the cold was getting a little too much for my leather jacket, seeing as it was early December, and made my way towards the cafeteria. Well, if Dawn was even gonna show up today, it couldn’t hurt to be prepared. With a soy latte and a blueberry muffin in my hand, I walked back inside the library.

And there she was, at her usual spot. She was sorting through all of her study material, looking so focused on everything she was doing that didn’t even notice me walk in. I smirked to myself. All for the best. She had no idea what I was talking about, right? Well, I could give her an idea or two if there was still room for interpretation.

I made my way towards her silently as a cat, enjoying the sight of her for just a moment. Her hair was still up, but she wasn’t wearing sweaters for a change. In fact, she was wearing a blue top with her sleeves rolled up that gave her a totally different aura. I stood behind her for a few seconds, waiting for her to notice my presence, which she didn’t. How wrapped up in her work was this girl even? God, she smelled amazing. Like a mixture of lilac and vanilla and, while I hadn’t paid much attention to it up until now, I’m pretty sure I would’ve recognized her scent anywhere.

When I was sure enough she wasn’t gonna notice me any time soon, I stepped forward and reached over her shoulder, placing the latte in front of her. She didn’t flinch and, instead, I heard her release a loud breath. I could’ve settled for the element of surprise, but the moment I got closer to her, my addiction started acting out. I felt like a junkie. One sniff and I was gone. Gosh, my self-control was in shreds. She didn’t turn around, so I braced both arms on her sides against the table, trapping her. I let my lips wander until they were near her ear and I enjoyed the way her whole body stiffened. Oh, she played it cool, but this whole thing affected her just as much as it affected me.

“You’re late,” I whispered in her ear and I watched the skin on her forearms slowly get covered in goosebumps. Would you look at that.

She picked up her latte and took a sip nonchalantly, but while her attitude about it told a story, her body spoke another language entirely. And it was one I spoke. I reached and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. This time, she controlled her posture well enough to not give herself away.

“I was busy,” she whispered back simply.

“Huh,” I clicked my tongue. “Vague. Better hurry to clear that up because I have a vivid imagination.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” she muttered, basically setting up the trap for me. I smirked in her hair.

“Oh, can you?” I made my tone as dirty as I could as it must have worked, because I could feel the heat radiating out of her and I was sure that, if I looked now, I’d find her blushing her ears off.

“That’s not what I—“ she turned around abruptly, just to find me inches away from her. Hell, maybe not even that much. And I’d been so right. Her cheeks were pink and her pupils dilated, only managing to enhance those doe eyes that ate at my brain constantly these days. She realized how close we were and how maybe turning around hadn’t been such a bright idea and I noticed smugly that her gaze darted to my lips. She paused to catch her breath and cleared her throat before speaking again. “Meant. That’s not at all what I meant.”

“Oh?” I inquired, allowing my eyes to travel shamelessly all over her features, drinking her in like a glass of fine wine.

Her breath was shaky, but who was I to judge? I was acting all cool and I thought I held my composure pretty well, but who could tell? From her side, maybe I was just as much of a drooling mess as she was.

“Umm,” she tried again. “There’s a fundraiser tonight. We, umm, have one every year. For… Ch-Charity causes. And I’m in the organizing committee. That’s why I was late.”

“Huh. Cool. Sounds fancy. Does it involve fancy dressing-up to the nines, drinking champagne and fake-laughing at bad jokes?”

That got a small smile out of her. “Pretty much. It’s a cocktail party, so yeah. We, umm, even got a small restaurant.”

“Cool,” I repeated. “So do you have a date for it?”

She frowned at me. “No?” it came out as a question.

I smirked. Oh, this was too easy. If I had known that all it took to quiet down Dawn Lovelace was embarrassingly tight proximity and googly eyes, I’d have done it ages ago. Would’ve saved me quite the time. Though I couldn’t complain. The game was way too entertaining to give any of it up, no matter how frustratingly slow-burning it could be at times.

“Good,” I grinned at her, leaning in until our lips almost brushed. Her eyelids fluttered closed and it would’ve been so easy to close that distance and taste that cherry chapstick again. But rushing had never got me anywhere with her, while teasing her and building it all up until the momentum was right, that seemed to be the best way to bend her. If Dawn Lovelace’s will was anywhere close bendable. So instead of getting what I wanted so badly, too, I moved away and took my seat in front of her, resuming our conversation. “Well, now you have one.”

She simply blinked at me, her cheeks still flushed and her lips slightly parted, gripping that pen so tight it was a surprise she hadn’t broken it. Suddenly, I got the compelling urge to draw her again. To capture her like this, full of fire and kissable enough to make me go crazy.

“What?” she mumbled confused.

“A date,” I shrugged. “You just got yourself one.”

“What?” she repeated and I let out a low laugh, leaning over the table.

“Don’t act so confused, Dimples. You’re hurting all three of my feelings. I’ve always wanted to go to this kind of cocktail stuck-up event and play aristocrat for a night.”

“So,” she closed her eyes and shook her head, “you wanna go to a fundraiser? You know that’s a charity event, right? Like, you gotta contribute to it, like with money. What’s the catch?”

I rolled my eyes. “It may come as a shock, but money’s not an issue, Dimples. Besides, I’m really not that charitable. Have you met me?”

“Sadly,” she mumbled under her breath and I narrowed my eyes playfully at her.

“Ouch. All three of my feelings, again. I’d almost believe you if I didn’t know better. But yeah, I’m selfish. Big surprise. If I have to go to a fundraiser so that I get to spend a whole evening with you and see you in a fancy dress, I’m sold.”

“Huh,” she pursed her lips and watched me pensively for a few seconds. I thought she was maybe taken aback by my ability to say the right things these days and sweep her off her feet, but I really should’ve known better. Eventually, her lips curved up into a sly smile. The one that struck me dumb every single damn time. And she fucking knew it. “See, I knew there was a catch.”

I rolled my eyes once more. “Again, have you met me? The only charity I do is for my own purposes.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at me, but kept her smile on, so maybe with all of my sarcasm and narcissism and stupid jokes, I was really getting through to her. Or she, to me.

“Oh, well,” she sighed eventually. “It’s not like I can ever stop you, so I might as well go with it. I’ll text you the address. You can show up around 8.”

I winked at her. “Can’t wait. Throw in a nice dress for your boy Paul. Preferably red.”

She groaned and focused back on her books. “You just made sure I’ll wear another one of my sweaters.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Civil Wars – Poison and wine~

I walked inside the restaurant, which was already crowded. I was surrounded by tuxes and college teachers telling bad jokes and students fake-laughing at them just like I’d predicted. Long dresses walked past me, as well as short dresses from under which emerged long silky legs and cleavages I usually loved to get lost in like a puppy in a sea of bones. Instead, the moment I walked through that door, my eyes started searching for Dawn, but she was nowhere in sight. I grabbed a glass of champagne – man, it was really like in those movies – and went around the whole restaurant looking for her. After ten minutes when I couldn’t get a hold of her, I figured I should go outside, away from this noise and music, and give her a call.

I stepped into the cold air and reached into my pocket for my phone, and when I raised my head, I saw her.

My eyes widened. I was pretty sure both of us could hear the sound of my jaw hitting the ground. She walked towards me like a goddess fallen off the pages of those tales my mom used to read to me as a kid. Because she couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be the same Dawn that had been sitting in front of me at the library for weeks now, dressed in colorful sweaters with her hair pulled away from her face and chewing on the ends of pens, sipping on lattes. It just didn’t make sense.

She stopped in front of me and I realized I hadn’t breathed in a while. I tried drawing in a breath that ended up being shakier that I’d anticipated.

Holy shit.

She laughed at me and I realized I’d said that out loud.

“Holy shit,” I repeated and she smiled at me like she knew exactly the speed at which my thoughts were running through my head right now. If I thought racing was fast and intense, that’s cause I’d never had to live with my heart thumping in my chest at this girl’s sight.

“You said red, right?” she tilted her head at me and I couldn’t even begin to think of a proper reaction.

Oh, it was red, alright. It was a freaking red dress, just like I’d teased her. The front part was shorter, knee-length, but the back part brushed the pavement. And the upper part… Oh, she was a mastermind. Because it was backless. There was enough cleavage for it to be decent, which I somehow found hotter than all those revealing dresses I’d seen inside, and two straps went over her collar bones – since when were collar bones so hot? But the straps joined behind her neck, leaving her entire back exposed and my fingertips itched to run over it.

And while the dress was mind-blowing, it didn’t take me aback as much as the fact that her hair was done. I’d never seen Dawn with her hair down and I just couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. I’d never found hair so fascinating before. It was pretty short, just a little over her shoulders, straight and brown and silky and here I was, losing my shit over hair. And red, so much red.

“Are you having a stroke?” she frowned at me and I simply blinked. I realized she carrying her coat in her hand and it was December outside.

“Probably,” I admitted. “We should, umm… Let’s, uh, let’s head inside. You must be freezing.”

She shot me a smile. “I was wondering when you’d notice.”

I let out a breathless laugh and she walked past me. I didn’t follow her. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, hoping the cold winter air could knock some sense into me. Or cool down the blood boiling inside my veins. But then she called my name.

“Paul?”

I opened my eyes and looked at her, just when I thought I was in control and that I could handle it. That I could handle her looking like this.

Sweaters. Soy latte. Pen chewing. Hair coming out of her ponytail when she was running her hair through it under stress. Dozing off at the library. Biting on her lip until she drew blood. Frantically taking notes. All the things that should’ve made Dawn anything but hot.

High heels. Red dress. Perfume. Her hair down. Her collar bones. Oh, I was falling alright. And I was falling hard. And I was terrified.

Because when I turned to her, she was looking at me over her shoulder, two brown wide eyes and an exposed back and that goddamn red dress.

“You coming?” her red lips formed the question, but it took me a few seconds to process the words.

“Umm, yeah,” I replied eventually. “Yeah, in a minute.”

She turned to me entirely, her expression back to Dawn’s from the library. The Dawn I was used to. The Dawn I could handle. She narrowed her eyes at me and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Get yourself together, Rixon,” she scolded me and I relaxed a bit. Yeah. The Dawn I could handle. “It’s just a dress. If you’re losing your head so early in the game, you’re gonna ruin all the fun. There’s more up my sleeve.”

She winked at me before turning around and leaving me there, in the cold December air, gaping after her like a fool. I blinked and took her words for it. I calmed my boiling blood down and got myself together. She was right about some things. It was early in the game. And it was still fun. And I didn’t miss how she’d implied that she was up for said game. It meant she was giving me a fair chance. A chance to win her over, wherever that may lead me. For once, I wasn’t that scared or confused about the possibility. But she was wrong about some things, too. It wasn’t just a dress. The dress, the hair, everything about her tonight. It was the turning point. If I followed her inside right now, the way she looked and the way I felt, I could never go back. It wasn’t even about the game or the chase anymore. It wasn’t about getting her to bed anymore. If I followed her inside right now, it would mean that I was taking my chances that this would lead somewhere. And that I would get involved in ways I had never expected myself to. No going back. There was just Paul Rixon, cocky playboy with no shame, with no care for women’s feelings, here on these stairs. And there was Dawn Lovelace inside, wearing a dress red as sin and the ability to take me into her hands and to fold me like I was made of clay. A choice, but not much of one, was it? More like the illusion of it. It’s like tossing a coin and making up your mind when it’s in the air.

I sighed. With steady steps, I walked inside and looked for that red nightmare of mine in the crowd.

15: Chapter 14: Red as the dawn

CHAPTER 14 – RED AS THE DAWN

~SOUNDTRACK: The Civil Wars – Poison and wine~

~Dawn’s POV~

Hi. My name is Dawn Lovelace and I’m an idiot. It sounds like I’m in a rehab session, but that would mean I’m getting better, right? No, that’s far from being the case. Because when the poison’s in your system, you allow it to break you into molecules and to take you to cloud nine piece by piece.

Paul Rixon was my poison. And I was an idiot because I knew this for a fact, and I still chose to get a taste of it. And when I had the taste, I discovered I liked it. And that I wanted more of it. But I guess that’s just the thing about addiction, isn’t it?

As I walked inside the restaurant, I felt his eyes on me. And then I felt his footsteps behind me. And I tried so hard to keep my composure, and to some extents, I think I pulled off the mask. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t getting out of tonight alive. I could read it in his eyes back there outside. I could feel it in the way his gaze swallowed me whole like a river, in the way he seemed to breathe in sync with every step I took towards him. In the way I could tell he was realizing just then, as I was too, that we were flying through the freefall.

I wanted to claim that I don’t know what had gotten into me when I asked Mandy to lend me this dress. I truly did have a pretty sweater and a nice librarian skirt that Paul would have made fun of already prepared. But in all honesty, it was the way he’d said it back at the library.

Throw in a nice dress for your boy Paul. Preferably red.

Oh, and it was on. He had no idea just how well I could rock a nice dress. So I had my arsenal out and when I had my fuse lit, I went out with a bang. And I was already far gone. There was already no way back, as I’d already said on countless occasions. At this point, I was either all in or all out. And I found out there wasn’t much of a choice when I had Mandy pull out that brilliant red dress and when I put it on and discovered a brand new face staring back at me. That dress was magical. I stared back at the figure in the mirror and, daringly, I reached behind me and let my hair down. I even let Mandy and Aria fuss around me and put some makeup on me and, by the end, I knew I was gonna have Paul wrapped around my pinkie.

What I hadn’t expected was how frustratingly handsome he looked, too. Sure, I was used to Paul being supernaturally attractive in his leather jacket and with his jeans and his Jaguar and his snark and his messed up hair. But Paul in a tux? Cleanly shaved, his hair decent for a change, smelling like expensive perfume and mint and cigarettes? I was not prepared for this. And while I’d expected his jaw to drop a little, I was also not prepared for his reaction at all. Under the weight of his gaze, a thousand fireworks exploded behind my eyes like in that night when we’d first met. It was Paul standing there before me. Paul who frustrated me to no end and whom I wanted to slap repeatedly on more on than one occasion. But then again, it was Paul standing there before me. Paul who’d kissed me so fiercely just days earlier until I thought I was never going to be able to breathe again, Paul who brought me soy lattes and played me Drops of Jupiter with the stars at our feet, Paul who looked so ravishing it hurt a little to just look at him.

Pick your poison.

I moved through the crowd, making small talk with my people in my classes and with several teachers, doing my duty as a member of the organization council. With all the fuss, you’d think I almost forgot about Paul entirely, but no. I could feel his presence in my proximity wherever I went, his eyes on me, and if I was lucky enough and our eyes met, he’d shoot me that smile of his. And because I couldn’t help myself, I smiled back.

Eventually, I unclasped myself from a few professors who wanted to congratulate me for the beautiful event, explaining to me how much money we’d raised already and how lucky we were gonna make so many people. My eyes found Paul in the crowd and I made my way towards him. He smiled again and we started walking towards each other when I was ambushed by a group of my classmates.

“Dawn, hi! Great party.”

“Thanks,” I forced a smile and tucked my hair behind my ear, not used to it being so… loose and wild.

“Yes, Dawn,” another girl whose names I couldn’t remember for the life of me said. “I heard so many professors talking about it and the other students in the committee. This is gonna get you so much extra credit.”

I tried to hide my scowl under another fake smile. “Thanks, but that’s not why I did it.”

“Come on now, don’t be modest,” a guy I’d seen a few times on the library commented, and by the way he smirked at me, I almost suspected he wanted to hit on me; I frowned. “I mean, you—“

“Excuse me.”

We all turned around to find Paul standing right behind me, an amused expression on his face. I could swear I heard the female students catching their breaths at his sight and, in all honesty, could I blame them?

“Dawn?” he tilted his head at me, ignoring the other ones entirely and shamelessly. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”

He extended his hand to me and I eyed it, biting my lip. You have duties, my conscience screamed at me. You have to mingle. The professors and the students. You have to…

But to hell with my conscience.

I smiled at the other students apologetically and turned to Paul. I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed over mine. He pulled me over until we were standing on the dance floor. A slow song started playing and I recognized it as one of my favorites. Poison and Wine, from The Civil Wars. How very fitting. I could picture it in my head, a vial of poison, dripping into a glass of red wine and I thought that the universe knew the exact ways to wreck my brain these days.

Paul smirked at me and his body met mine halfway. Heat radiated out of him just as much as it did out of me, I’m sure. His fingers brushed against the exposed skin on the small of my back and I was hoping he wasn’t gonna comment on the embarrassing goosebumps rising in his path. My hand found his shoulder, fortunately, because otherwise, I don’t know for how long my knees could keep supporting me with him touching me like that. Like I was made of porcelain and he was afraid of breaking me. With him looking at me like this. With him breathing so raggedly like that. With our feet moving so awkwardly, so out of rhythm, because even with the song playing softly in the background, neither of us paid much attention to it.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered tentatively and I blinked. It came off his lips so genuinely, so sheepishly, like he was just trying out the words on his tongue just to get a taste. I managed a smirk.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I joked, but he stayed serious. It reminded me of the intensity and the seriousness in him on that night last week when we went for coffee at midnight and my whole body tingled. Douche Paul, I could handle. The one slow dancing with me right now, I wasn’t sure what to make of him.

“No, but I mean…” he trailed off and caught his breath. “I never made it a secret that I think you’re hot. But you’re really pretty tonight. Like, up a few notches. I don’t know.”

I hoped the red of my dress and the dim light did a good job to hide my blush. “Careful, Paul. It sounded too much like a genuine compliment. I’m getting ideas here.”

He smirked at me, too, and this time I had to be the one to catch my breath. He paused for a minute before replying. Whether it was for effect or for gathering his thoughts, I couldn’t tell.

“Good,” he said eventually, and an entire room of people was reduced to silence under the spell his gaze held me under. People moved around us, but Paul’s fingers moved up and down my back. “It was about time you took me seriously.”

I pulled a little back to stare at him. “I didn’t know you were serious.”

He pursed his lips like he’d said too much and I almost snickered at seeing his ears turn bright pink. “Must be the dress. Or the hair.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The hair?”

“You let it down,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world that I was somehow supposed to get. When it was clear I wasn’t following, he rolled his eyes. “You always wear it up, Dimples. Turns out I like you more with your hair down.”

I grinned at him. “And let’s just say I don’t hate you that much in a tux.”

He chuckled. “Wow. An almost compliment.”

“Hardly.”

“Shut up,” he shushed me. “I’ll take it. I’m getting there.”

I laughed and hid my face in his shoulder. Yeah. He was. Fast. He was almost there already, but I wasn’t gonna let him know that. Not until I figured out how I felt about this whole thing.

“Dawn?”

I heard the shift of seriousness in his voice again and I looked up at him, just to find him already look down at me so that our lips were dangerously closed. My mind flashed to the kisses we’d shared earlier this week and that was enough to almost make me close the distance between us. I balanced the fact that he smelled intoxicatingly good and that his eyes looked almost hungry for me and the fact that we were in a room full of people. Professors. Classmates. Public people of the city. Eventually, the room full of people won the argument and I had to bite my lips to keep them from reaching to his.

“Yeah?” I whispered and felt him catch his breath a little.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Out of here? And go where?”

“I don’t know,” he gave a small shrug. “Anywhere in the city. The night is young.”

“Why?”

He rolled his eyes. “You just have to question everything, don’t you? You really have to make me say things.”

I smirked at him and nodded and I could swear his grip on me tightened a little.

“Jesus, woman. Because you’re wearing that dress. And your hair’s down and you look amazing. And that makes me… feel stuff and I don’t wanna have to share you with dozens of other people.”

I blinked at him. It was somehow reassuring to know I wasn’t the only one left feeling a little troubled here with this energy between us. But it was also somehow scarier.

“Paul,” my shoulders dropped. “I can’t. The event… They need me here. I’m in the committee. It’s a big thing to me.”

I saw his face fall a little and I almost changed my mind right then, but then he hid it with a smile and a reassuring squeeze of my hand.

“No, it’s okay. I just—“

“Mind if I borrow her for a minute?”

~SOUNDTRACK: Christina Perri ft. Jason Mraz – Distance~

I started a little and turned around to find Aaron standing beside me, his hands in his pockets. His eyes were hard and he was looking at Paul rather than me.

“Umm,” I heard Paul stammer and I looked back at him to find him a little confused. “I, umm, yeah, I guess. Sure.”

His hand left my back and he let go of my hand he held in his, looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do. I glared at him for being such a child and turned to Aaron. He smiled a small smile at me and his hands followed Paul’s. His hand on my back and mine in his other one. He kept his distance, though, unlike Paul, but that must have had more to do with the fact that Paul and I were pretty much magnets, getting drawn to each other against our will.

“You look great, Dawn,” Aaron smiled down at me and I loathed that I couldn’t help comparing his touch, his closeness, his words to Paul’s.

“Thanks,” I offered a smile in return. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He chuckled and dropped his gaze. “Well. I guess it was a little easier to talk to you and joke around back when we were kids, wasn’t it?”

I frowned. “How so?”

A faint blush colored his cheek before replying. “Let’s just say it’s easier to have a conversation when your best friend doesn’t knock you breathless in a killer dress.”

Oh.

“Oh,” I said out loud and his face turned an even brighter shade of red. I was starting to follow where this conversation was going and I wasn’t comfortable with it. My first instinct? Run. And it was absurd. This was Aaron. We’d been best friends for so many years.

He let out a forced chuckle. “That was too cheesy, wasn’t it? I knew it. Should’ve led with something smoother.”

“I don’t think you can be smooth,” I tried to joke. “What’s going on, Aaron?”

He sighed and pulled me a bit closer. He smelled nice. Not in the intoxicating way Paul did, but sweet and like the home I’d had in him for so long now.

“Nothing,” he was quick to reassure me. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything. But then I saw you looking like that and it just took me aback, that’s all.”

“Say what?” I prompted, but he ignored me like I hadn’t spoken at all.

“Well, but then you spent the entire evening making eyes at that guy from the library. And you danced with him and all. And it feels like this,” he made a hand gesture towards my dress, “is all for him.”

I scoffed. “Aaron, that’s absurd. You’re not making any sense.”

Except he did. I just didn’t wanna see it. My friendship with Aaron was too precious to lose it over the mere idea that he could feel differently about me than I did about him.

“I guess I don’t, do I?” he tried to brush it off. “Paul, is it? The guy’s name? I didn’t think you got along so well last time he was around.”

I remembered last time Paul was around Aaron and I let out a chuckle. Back when Paul had spilled coffee all over my books. Oh well. Aaron knew my murderous instincts well enough to know when someone was on the receiving side of them. And truth be told, Paul and I still didn’t get along well. And yet, we were building something on a cracked foundation. And it somehow seemed to work.

“Yeah, well,” I sighed, “he’s not that bad, I guess.”

“You guess?” he inquired. “I’m not sure that’s enough, Dawn.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I’m in love with him or something, Aaron.” At least I hoped not. “He’s fun. He makes me feel good.”

“I thought I made you feel good,” he spoke in a small voice and my face fell.

Oh.

“Oh,” I said out loud again and he brushed it off yet again like the words weren’t meant for me to hear, after all.

“You’re better than this, Dawn. You deserve better. He’s gonna hurt you.”

“You don’t know him,” I defended Paul before I could help myself. Well, it wasn’t like Aaron was wrong. But I didn’t need anyone telling me what I knew all too already.

Aaron scoffed. “What, you think you can change him? Dawn, this isn’t a Nicholas Sparks novel. That guy is bad news. He’s not gonna change for a girl. He is gonna walk away eventually and he is gonna hurt you. And I’ll be the one left behind to clean up his mess.”

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. “No one asked you to,” I snapped at him. “I don’t wanna change Paul. I know who he is. And I’m taking my chances.”

I unclasped myself from his grip and turned my back on him without waiting for his reaction. I walked away and straight to Paul, keeping my fists clenched tight so that he wouldn’t see they were shaking. I found Paul at the bar, watching me, and I realized he’d watched the entire thing.

I stopped in front of him. “You still wanna get out of here?”

He blinked at me for a few seconds, then his lips curled into a smile. “Absolutely.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: James Harris – Sweater weather~

It was snowing with big snowflakes over San Francisco. It was well over 11. The city was dark, asleep, covered in a yet thin white sheet. Apart from the snow falling down and our steps on the pavement, the streets looked frozen, paused in time at the perfect frame.

Paul and I walked down the street in silence. We’d decided to ditch the car and see where our feet carried us. It was late and winter, but I wasn’t cold. Paul had lent me his leather jacket, which was most unfitting for my dress and high heels, but judging by the look on his face when I’d put it on, I guess it didn’t look too bad.

“Where to?” he broke the silence eventually and I smiled sideways at him.

“Well. There’s plenty to do in San Francisco. And I’ve been told the night is young.”

He checked out his watch before replying. “How about we keep that tradition with the coffee at midnight? It’s not far from here.”

“They did have the best latte I’ve ever had. Why the hell not?”

He smiled at me and offered me his arm, even taking half a bow. I snickered and rolled my eyes at him, but I did take his arm. Yeah. I guess it wasn’t a bad fairytale.

We walked through the snow arm in arm and I allowed my guard to come down for a change. We talked and I learned that Paul was impressively smart. He was so much more than a tattoo artist. He had his career all planned out and I could really picture him as a successful lawyer. He had the wits, he had the brains, he had the charisma. He made me laugh. And I made him laugh, too. I told him about childhood with Aria. He told me about high school with Pete. I told him about my parents and I told him about the universe and galaxies far, far away. He made Star Wars references at that. I punched his shoulder and he laughed. It was cold, but I was starting to feel warm inside in a way that terrified me. I was scared of where all this was leading. And Aaron’s words stayed with me even though I willed them away with every breath.

He’s gonna hurt you.

He’s not gonna change for a girl.

But then I looked at him again. Why would I even think of asking him to change? I would’ve never seen it coming. But Paul Rixon had gotten under my skin just the way he was.

We made it to the shady café and I teased him about it when he came back with my soy latte and a black coffee for himself.

“Oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at my complaints. “Admit it. You like it here. It’s cozy.”

“No, it’s not,” I argued. “The only thing they have working for them is that they make decent coffee.”

“Decent?” he scoffed. “This coffee is the nectar of the gods. And it’s also not the only thing they’ve got working for them. There’s also me, you know.”

He winked and I rolled my eyes. Well, there was the brooding Paul that made me weak around the knees. And then there was goofy brooding Paul who made me question why I even liked the first one.

“Decent,” I repeated and he gaped at me.

“Decent?” he nearly shrieked. “Gods above, to be called such thing by a mere mortal.”

“Excuse you,” I tried to shriek back without snickering and failed miserably.

“Let yourself say it, Dimples,” he leaned over the table. “I’m good company. You like having me around.”

I could’ve denied it, I guess. I could’ve joked around. I could’ve rolled my eyes, maybe. But things were different lately.

“Okay,” I heard myself say, and he raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. You’re good to have around.”

He broke into a wide grin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I had a mini stroke,” I leaned backwards, teasing him. “And I’m gonna have to wash my mouth out with soap.”

“Just keep saying it until it grows on you,” he suggested and a small laugh slipped.

“So what now?” I asked after finishing my latte and, before replying, he reached across the table and ran his fingertips across my knuckles lightly.

“Well, it’s still early.”

I turned his wrist and checked his watch. “It’s well past midnight. Nearly 1, really.”

He shrugged. “The night’s young,” he repeated, smirking. “Let’s go. I’ve got an idea.”

I groaned. “See, you say that like it’s supposed to make me feel better. But most of your ideas involve breaking and entering.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not this one. We just gotta go get my car and pick something up from my house.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No Netflix and chill?”

He grinned like a little kid up to no good. “Well, I can’t promise that.” I punched his shoulder. “Ouch. Okay, fine. No Netflix and chill. Yet.” Another punch. “Ouch! Chill, woman! Chill. See what I did there?” This time, before I could punch him, he raised his hands in defensive and started laughing. “Okay, fine, fine, you win. I’ll be good.”

“You’d better,” I pointed my finger at him. “So what are we picking up?”

He pursed his kips. “Well. This is sweater weather. And as much as I like you in that dress, we need sweaters. And blankets.”

I stood up and smiled at him. “You had me at sweaters.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Emmit Fenn – Blinded~

“Did you make this one, too?” I took the cup of latte out of his hand reluctantly and he barked a laugh.

“I’m afraid I had to buy this one.”

“Oh, good,” I took a sip. “I would’ve been more afraid if you had made it.”

“Brat,” he muttered under his breath and I shoved him with my shoulder.

We were sitting on the hoods of his car. He’d pulled over somewhere outside of town, in front of an open hill, proudly announcing me that we were to wait for the sunrise. I was still wearing my red dress, but with a red hoodie of his on top and we were both wrapped in blankets. It was a nice. It was a nice conclusion of the night we’d had, since it had all seemed so detached from our whole story up to this point. It was as if we were realizing that we were starting to feel certain things and weren’t sure how to act with them hanging above our heads.

It was past 5 in the morning. After leaving the café, we went back to the fundraiser to get his car and realized the restaurant was empty. So we just sat there for a couple more hours, on the floor, my knees tucked under me and his brushing against them. People cleaned up after the party and the light was dim and we just sat there talking for hours. Then we went back to his house to get the blankets and the hoodie and spent another hour or so in the car as he told me stories about all the pranks he’d pulled and all the stupid crap he’d done as a kid around the household. And it was a big household and Paul was Paul, so that took a while. I noticed he never talked about his family, but I didn’t push.

And now here we were. It was still dark, but the color of the sky was shifting from pitch black to a cold shade of purple, growing a bit softer by the minute. It was cold, although it had stopped snowing, so I snuggled into his side, ignoring any sort of implications. I was past that point.

“You do realize you’ve gone to two dates with the same girl, right?” I teased him, sipping on my latte.

“Two and a half, with that time we had coffee at midnight,” he added and I raised my eyebrows at him, so he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “But who’s counting, right?”

“Right,” I pursed my lips. “Two and a half dates. Must be a record.”

“It is.”

The lack of humor in his voice made me turn my head to find him staring back at me intensely. I found myself unable to drop his gaze.

“It is a record, believe it or not,” he barely whispered. “So tell me, Dimples. What’s so special about you?”

“I’m not buying your crap,” I offered a smile, but he didn’t seem to be over the moment we were having.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I would’ve usually walked away from you long ago. Wouldn’t have bothered. You’re a handful, did you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. So why don’t you? Walk away, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, letting his eyes dance across the horizon. “Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” I repeated. “I tried to.”

His eyes captured mine again, more violently than before, bending my will and submerging me under the waves in his gaze. And I was drowning oh so blissfully.

“But did you really?” he prompted and I almost huffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Dimples. You’re a strong independent woman. You’re pretty adamant about this one. You’re not a girl to be bossed around. You’re the girl who slapped me when I tried to kiss you, because you wanted to do it on your own terms. You’re stubborn and frustrating. So if you couldn’t walk away, ask yourself if that’s because I didn’t let you or because you never really wanted to.”

“You’re making some daring assumptions.”

“I don’t assume,” he shot me a half grin. “I know for a fact.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“So you keep telling me. And you are right. I can’t read you for the life of me. I don’t get you half the time. But I’m not blind, Dimples.”

I bit my lip. As mysterious as I wanted to play, it was disconcerting how well he called out on my crap.

“Then what’s your excuse? If I don’t walk away because I don’t want to, what’s your reason? I’m sure there’s another girl out there who’d appreciate the effort.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he was quick to reply. “I never put half as much effort.”

“Why?” I insisted.

“Hell if I know. But it’s fucking my brain up. Badly. You know who I am, Dawn.” I tensed, remembering how I’d said the exact same words to Aaron just hours ago. It seemed like close to an eternity ago. “I don’t do this. I don’t know how. If I fall in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it. Myself included.”

I fell silent. His words rang in my head like an echo.

If I fall in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it.

Well. That made two of us. In the darkness, my hand found his and his eyes found mine.

“Then don’t,” I tried to shrug it off, though I’m pretty sure he saw through me. “You’re not gonna fall in love with me, Paul. We’re different. You’re not the kind of guy who stays and I’m not the kind of girl who can take your crap. You’ll get bored eventually and it will have been something fun to look back at Don’t be such a drama queen.”

He laughed, but the intensity in his eyes never faltered. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him dramatically. “Thank you, Your Cheesiness.”

“Whatever,” he ruffled my hair and I slapped his arm away, and we both ended up laughing, with me still snuggled into his side, and him, daring to put his arm around me.

Eventually, the sky turned lilac, then orange and we were greeted with a red dawn to seal this surreal night.

16: Excerpt: Don't belong to no city, don't belong to no man

“I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.”

-John Green

“Looking for Alaska”

EXCERPT: DON’T BELONG TO NO CITY, DON’T BELONG TO NO MAN

~SOUNDTRACK: Tove Lo – Cool girl~

The pavement smelled like burning tires and the screeching was loud in Aria’s ears, making her blood boil with excitement. The crowd was wild and the music was the only thing that could cover her racing heart. This place was a dream come true, even from the sidelines. She couldn’t even begin to picture how amazing it must have felt to actually be in one of those cars and to feel your stomach in your throat as you speed down the street, to watch the crowd fly by you in a blur as the engine hums in sync with your pulse. She got goosebumps only thinking about it.

She felt his eyes on her. In hindsight, she could practically pinpoint the exact moment when their eyes met. There was just this thing. His green eyes found her in the crowd and she held his gaze for one split second. And she decided. She was gonna ruin him.

His name was Pete.

He was Paul’s friend, which scored him some points.

His eyes were, like, really absurdly green.

He had the cutest, dorkiest smile.

And weirdly enough, though he was really shy, he could hold his own. Sure, his pink cheeks gave his nerves away, but he swallowed that down and put on a bravado that Aria admired. Maybe he was a kitten, but he wanted to play tiger.

Well, she smirked. Guess I can show her what tigresses look like.

Hell yeah. She was gonna eat him alive.

 

***

“I didn’t know it was your birthday,” Pete shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly, and though his posture gave him away, his face was an expression of serenity and pure flirting. Aria was enjoying him, and she was going to enjoy even more toying with him, seeing him dance on the notes she played.

She clicked her tongue. “You didn’t need to.”

“Sure I did,” he retorted, shooting her a sideways smile that, even Aria had to admit, was pretty hot. “Now I really can’t lose that race.”

“Cute,” Aria rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless. “So, Peter. Pete’s short for Peter, right?”

“Right,” he replied, but Aria didn’t really care for his answer.

“Yeah, Peter. You’re pretty confident in your odds, aren’t you?”

He simply shrugged. “I’d say I’m pretty motivated, given the reward. And I’ll think of you in the passenger’s seat as a lucky charm.”

Aria scoffed and stopped dead in front of him, making them both halt. She leaned in closer and closer until she could hear him losing a breath. Then she smirked. “It’s a double edged sword, Peter. You say I’m a lucky charm. I say you underestimate how distracting I can be.”

He gulped and Aria watched with satisfaction as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he struggled for words.

“I’m starting to catch up on that,” he mustered a shy grin and Aria blinked. Once. Twice. Well. The kitten had some claws after all. He wasn’t shrinking, intimidated by her and in his cute dorky little way, he had a spine and he used it to stand up to Aria’s game. She could respect that in him. But she wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the challenge of a guy who could keep up with her or if she was concerned about where it could lead. But she was getting ahead of herself.

She chuckled and stepped backwards, walking away, not before shooting him a sly grin over her shoulder that had Pete struck dumb in his place.

“Let’s go, Peter. We’ve got a race to win, don’t we?”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Halsey – Hurricane~

Pete held the door to his car open and Aria got in, whistling at the sight. She wasn’t into sport cars, but she had to admit it looked pretty damn good. He followed her inside in no time and waited for Paul to get to the start line, too. Knowing Dawn and her temper, Aria figured it would take a while, seeing as she’d be scratching and yelling and biting the whole way. Poor guy had no idea what he was getting himself into.

But then again, she thought looking sideways, neither did Pete.

“So umm,” he started, his fingers clenching and unclenching over the steering wheel. “Why’d you agree to this?”

She raised her eyebrows and gestured around her. “What? This?”

He repeated the motion, gesturing around the car and Aria almost chuckled at how silly he looked.

“Are you kidding me?” she shrieked. “Do you know how much I love car races? How bad I wanted to be in one?”

“A lot, I guess?” he frowned and her eyes sparked up in a deep blue firework show.

“Damn right! I can already taste the rush.” She turned to Pete, grinning like a wicked cat, about to let him in on a secret. “If anything, Peter, what you should know about me is that I get bored easily and I live on storms and lightning bolts.” She tilted her head. “They don’t call me Hurricane for nothing.”

The rush in her veins and Pete’s green eyes blinking rapidly at her, Aria felt unstoppable. Paul pulled his car – a pretty decent Jaguar, by Aria’s standards – next to Pete’s at the start line and she caught sight of Dawn, looking completely miserable, just like Aria expected her to. In the heat of the moment, she scowled at Dawn and flipped her off. Even granny pants Dawn Patricia Lovelace couldn’t steal her moment this time.

“Ready?” Pete smirked at her, a little more self-assured this time, and Aria winked at him.

“Don’t lose.”

Pete actually scoffed at her and started the engine. The car purred like a kitten, making Aria’s insides hum in response and in perfect harmony. Her skin pricked in anticipation. Then Pete hit the gas and the car sprung forward like a lightning bolt. She couldn’t see what speed Pete was going, but it was pretty fucking fast, enough to make her stomach flip and her heart race faster than the car itself.

It was exhilarating. Aria could see now why people found adrenaline so addictive. Once you get a taste of it, you can’t go back to the way things slow down, you can’t let your eyes settle for blurry after you see how the world really looks like in high-quality. She was breathing raggedly, gripping the edge of her seat to keep herself from fading into the speed and becoming one with the blurred background, trapped forever into this never-ending, insanely fast haze.

“You can scream,” Pete yelled to cover the noise of the engine, of the music, of the wheels screeching across the pavement, of the crowd.

“What?” Aria yelled back.

In response, he pressed one of the buttons and the roof of the car started moving. Huh, Aria bit back a small gasp. Convertible. Not bad.

“Scream,” Pete repeated. “Trust me. You’ll feel better.”

The wind ruffled her hair and slapped her cheeks. Aria was having trouble breathing, but she didn’t know whether it was from how intense she was living this all or from the wind knocking the air out of her lungs. Probably a combination of both. But she looked at Pete, smirking at her with a small tint of smugness that somehow suited his all otherwise timid look. And she smiled right back.

Then threw her head backwards and screamed from the top of her lungs. With each breath she drew in and each yell she let out, Aria thought this was what freedom must have tasted like. Like a sore dry throat and a little gasoline.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Pistol Annies – Hell on heels~

“Admit it, you lost,” Aria teased and Pete huffed.

“I made it past the finish line, didn’t I?”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes. “Barely. And you only made it because Paul decided to wingman you and let you win. That’s hardly a win. That’s the easy way out. I’m not good enough with the easy way out.”

Pete came to a halt, prompting himself in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets. Aria crossed her arms over her chest at the sudden display of courage and clicked her tongue. Dawn and Paul were a few feet away from them, bickering like old ladies, but the four of them didn’t pay attention to each other.

“Then what are you good enough with?” he spoke softly and Aria had a hard time refraining from laughing in his face. He was so cute and cuddly and soft and tender that she almost felt guilty for toying him like this. Almost.

“Why ask?” she bit her lip and he simply shrugged.

“Just to know what I’m getting myself into. What to deliver.”

“Uhum,” Aria faked being pensive. “And you think you can deliver? I told you, Peter. They don’t call me Hurricane for nothing.”

He bit his lip against a smirk, too, and Aria was taken aback by how much the small gesture distracted her, her eyes darting to those pink full lips of his disappearing under his teeth. Well, she could’ve stolen him a kiss, strike him a little dumb, but she decided she enjoyed the chase and the slow burn more.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied eventually and Aria’s eyebrows rose.

“Of what?”

“Of how much hurricane I can handle.”

The corners of Aria’s lips curled into a malicious smile. “I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” she mumbled as she moved past him and he paused in his place for a moment before following her. They were close to Dawn’s car by now.

“So,” Pete spoke again, “how do you get Hurricane from Aria?”

Aria knew he was talking about the name, but she couldn’t help herself. She was a drama queen. This was what she did for a living. So she leaned a little in until she was sure he’d stopped breathing and spoke next to his ear.

“You don’t,” she whispered. “You wait for the hurricane to come to you.”

He was still not breathing and Aria thought he was turning a little blue by the time she pulled away. See? She was sure. She was going to eat him alive. But then, when she least expected, he shook his head a little and cleared his throat.

“So, umm,” he tried his voice. “I think I’m long overdue my prize.”

Aria smirked. The phone number. Well, what do you know? Pete intrigued her, something that rarely happened with her. She hadn’t intended for this little game to go further than tonight, but she wanted to see how long it took to break him. She could be his hurricane. And when all this was over, she’d leave him in pieces and walk away from the wreck unharmed.

But that didn’t mean she was just gonna give it to him that easily. She was gonna have him break a sweat for it.

She winked at Dawn. Her sister knew what she had to do.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Nothing But Thieves – Honey whiskey~

Hey, Hurricane. It’s Pete. Remember me? Dawn gave Paul your number the other day.

Pete? Pete who?

Pete from the races? We met last Thursday. You co-piloted me :)

I don’t remember any Pete.

Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong number. You see, there’s this girl I met last week. She seemed pretty taken with my car. A beautiful Mustang. I was thinking I could give her another ride. On a date ;)

Well played, Peter. Well played. Right in the weakness.

I know my audience.

Now, now, let’s not get too hasty. One may dare say it’s beginning to look a lot like blackmail.

Do I need to go to such lengths as to blackmail you into going out with me?

Depends on what you’re offering me.

I’ve been told I have pretty eyes.

That, you do. But that’s a low starting point. Come on, Peter, work with me.

And I’m a terrific kisser.

So am I, what’s your point?

I’ll have to see for myself ;)

Why, Pete, are you trying to out-Hurricane me?

More like trying to un-Pete myself.

That’s a Pete-y. Just when you were getting close to me accepting to go out with you.

Then I guess I’ll Pete myself back together. You know, since you like him so much ;)

……………….

That was too much, wasn’t it? When should I have stopped?

At name puns. Always stop at puns.

You just made two name puns.

Oh, you poor thing. Word of advice. Rules don’t apply to me.

That hardly seems fair.

Who said anything about fairness?

Touche.

Come on, Peter, you’re giving up too easy.

So will you go out with me?

No.

Ouch.

You didn’t ask me if I want to go out with you.

Do you want to go out with me?

No.

Ouch. Now you’re just being cruel.

I told you, you give up too easy. You gotta earn it, Peter.

Huh. So it’s not a no.

I think there were actually two of them.

I’ll take them as maybe’s.

I’m pretty sure they were no’s.

Oh, well. I’m optimistic ;)

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Neighbourhood – Cry baby~

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Good to see you.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“I think you were supposed to say, ‘Good to see you, too’.”

“I thought I made it clear rules don’t apply to me. Besides, maybe it’s not that good to see you. Don’t oversell yourself.”

“I don’t buy that. Might as well save yourself the embarrassment and admit it.”

“Now you made sure I’ll never admit it.”

“Never is a strong word. But it’s okay. I’ve got time. We can start with that drink you owe me.”

Aria stepped closer, until she stood right in front of Pete, her lips brushing against his ear. He kept himself from shuddering.

“I thought I made it clear you have to earn it, Peter,” she whispered and that shudder escaped him against his will. “You’re gonna have to win that drink. Fight hard for it. And if you do, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise. You might learn why they call me Hurricane. In many, many ways.”

Then her teeth grazed the lobe of his ear and she pulled away, leaving behind her a flushed Pete who was finally starting to wonder what the hell was this girl made of. Though thunder and storms were starting to feel disconcertingly accurate.

 

***

You looked good today.

Seriously, Peter? That’s your move? I know for a fact I looked good. Try again.

I get another shot? Someone’s feeling generous today.

Let’s just say you looked good today, too.

Wow. Was that an actual compliment?

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Of course you don’t. You wanna know what I think, Hurricane?

That’s a too complex an answer for me to answer and you won’t like it. So let’s pretend for this sake of this conversation I’m a silly teenage girl resting her head on her palms. *sighs dreamily* What is it you think, Pete?

So I think I followed like half of that. Anyway. I think you’re in denial.

I’m shocked. You got me.

Mock all you want, Hurricane. But you and I both know it’s true. You’re having fun with me, too, and you know we can have a lot of fun together. And you want it, too, just as much as me. You’re just too prideful.

Wow. Reading through me like an open book.

I’m not getting any closer to earning shit, am I?

Not even an inch.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers ft. Halsey – Closer~

Pete pulled his car over in front of Hurricane’s dorm. She knew this was the one. Paul had told him so, and he assumed Paul knew from Dawn. So maybe she’d told him that much in between two rounds of clawing his eyes out? He couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter anyway. All it mattered was that it was Friday night and he’d wait for her right here for the entire night if he had to. He was just fine with having breakfast with her instead of late night drinks, too. That’s how crazy he was about her.

It was about 6 in the afternoon when he got there, and it was pretty chilly. One hour passed. Then two. He could’ve walked in and asked for her room, but somehow that didn’t feel right. And he had a feeling Hurricane wouldn’t have appreciated him making an appearance just to find an Aria in her pajamas. She enjoyed Hurricane’s persona too much. But he figured this was better. She imagined her walking out of that dorm and seeing him here, having waited for hours in the cold. It was a pretty bold move on his part, but hey, she had raised the bar and dammit, he was gonna deliver.

Three hours passed and Pete couldn’t really feel his toes anymore. It was past 9 p.m., dark outside and the dorm boomed with music and wild parties. It was the beginning of the weekend, after all. He was starting to think Hurricane wasn’t gonna come out anymore. I mean, why would she go out at this hour of the night, anyway? He sighed and was about to get in his car and drive away. He could try again tomorrow. At a more reasonable hour and on hopefully more reasonable weather.

Just before he turned around to unlock k his car, he saw her. Hurricane walked out of the dorm, wearing a crop top with skinny jeans and a hoodie that seemed highly unnecessary seeing as the top barely covered any of her belly. She was about to put on her headphones when she caught sight of him. At this distance, Pete couldn’t see her very well, but from the little he could see of her reaction, he could deduce the rest. Her expression looked pretty blank, except from her slightly parted lips. Pete guessed she must have raised her eyebrow at his sight, maybe narrowed her eyes a bit. She was pretty shy on actual human readable reactions like that.

She started making his way towards him and Pete felt his mouth run embarrassingly dry.

“Peter,” she said as a greeting, prompting herself in front of him. “What are you doing here? It’s almost 10 p.m. And freezing as hell.”

“W-waiting f-fo-for y-you,” his teeth chattered and he gave himself a mental slap. Guess the cold had taken more of a toll on him than he’d anticipated. Hurricane only chuckled.

“You cold? Want my hoodie? Want me to hold your hand and blow on them? Ow, poor lil Pete.”

He tried to smirk at her and failed miserably. “I c-could th-think of-of a f-few ways t-t-to k-keep me warm.”

Hurricane pursed her lips against a cascade of laughter. “See, that would be cute and almost hot if you weren’t on the verge of hypothermia.”

“C-came t-t-to a-a-a-ask you out-t-t.”

“What’s that?” Hurricane frowned, moving closer and Pete clenched his teeth together, trying to keep them from chattering like that.

“I-I said, I c-came to ask y-you out.”

Hurricane’s eyebrows disappeared under her bangs in surprise. “Wow. Like this? It’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“I’m e-ear-earning i-it.”

Hurricane barked a laugh. “Not like this, cowboy. I never meant give yourself hypothermia. A chocolate would’ve done the trick. I can be bought with food, you know. For future references.

Pete tried to smile at her, almost beaming, but the three hours of standing in the late autumn cold had pretty much paralyzed his face muscles.

“F-fut-ture ref-refer-fer…”

“Yeah, that,” Hurricane bit her lip against laughing at him again. “Get in the car, Pete. I don’t want to have you on my conscience if you freeze to death. I mean, I know I’m going to hell, but I want it on my own terms, not for accidentally murdering you.

“N-Not leaving with-without th-those drinks.”

Hurricane rolled her eyes. “This sounds like blackmail.”

Pete smirked right on this time. “I-It is.”

“Fine,” she sneered a little. “One date. As long as I get to call the shots. And you gotta keep up, Peter, because I won’t go easy on you. And no veto right. If you’re out, you’re out. We’ll see how you can stomach a little hurricane. Deal?”

“D-Deal.”

“Good,” she uncrossed her arms from over her chest. “Then get in the car. Let’s warm you up first.”

“H-Hope, I h-hope t-th-that—“

Hurricane rolled her eyes and moved to climb in the passenger’s seat. “I’m afraid it’s not as dirty as it sounds, cowboy. And you spend too much time with Paul. Now let’s get going. Long night ahead of us.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Vanic x Zella Day – Hypnotic~

“Are you sure this is the place?” Pete frowned at the warehouse, his speech having returned now that his body temperature was back to normal. Hurricane rolled his eyes and unbuckled her seat belt.

“Do you trust me, Peter?” she sighed.

“Not particularly, no.”

She smirked at him. “Wise choice. Now come on.”

Pete refrained from groaning. Why did he have a feeling that nothing he said was ever gonna count with her?

He followed Hurricane out of the car, his body tense. The place looked shady, alright. It was a rave, it must have been. It was a warehouse down by the docks, pretty remote from any civilian areas, really, so that the obnoxiously loud music couldn’t bother anyone nearby. And it was ridiculously loud. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve said the warehouse was shaking in the rhythm of some electronic beats. And Hurricane loved it, her body already moving in sync.

They reached the guard outside the doors and Pete dared to hope he wasn’t gonna let them in. He loved a good party, but this was way out of his comfort zone. As was Hurricane’s entire persona, but that was a whole other story. He loved that about her. Raves, not so much. But much to his surprise, Hurricane simply fist-bumped the guard – a seven feet giant black scary dude – and he smiled at them widely before stepping out of the way. Huh. She had connections. Somehow, he wasn’t that surprised.

The rave was everything Pete expected. People were wasted, the air was saturated in weed smoke and was barely breathable and it smelled like booze and puke. And weirdly enough, paint. Before he could wonder about that, Hurricane disappeared from his side for a second and came back with a few cans of spray.

“What’s this?” he yelled over the music and she just shook the cans nonchalantly.

“Neon paint,” she yelled back. “We gotta blend it.”

Pete must have made a face at that, because Hurricane rolled her eyes and glared at him.

“Wussing out, Peter?”

He was. Big time. But he couldn’t let her see that. Hurricane was raising challenge after challenge. Keeping up the pace was the biggest one yet, and he was having a hard time with it. She was making his head spin and he was so far from that comfort zone of his he was sure he was gonna pass out any second now. But instead, he shot her a wicked smile and took the paint out of her hands, shaking it.

“Never.”

Hurricane grinned. “I’ll make you swallow up those words.”

She painted his face and his neck in crazy colors Pete didn’t even wanna know and he painted her back, making her cheeks pink in a reckless delusion that he could make her blush, at least like this, her eyelids blue to match those intoxicating eyes of hers and her neck yellow because, well, that’s all they had left. They must have looked ridiculously, judging by how the other looked around them, dancing and grinding against each other, colorful sweat dripping down their necks. But then he looked at Hurricane and he thought she looked hypnotic. And he thought maybe this rave hadn’t been such a bad idea.

“Come on, Peter,” she caught his wrist and started moving her hips, dancing around him and making his head spin like crazy. Oh, he was way too sober for this. He started dancing with her, allowing her to intoxicate him, thinking that if he wanted to stay sane, he was gonna have to keep his hands to himself tonight. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. He really, really liked her. And he was afraid that, if he got one touch, one sip, one taste, just one touch, he wouldn’t be able to stop. So yeah. Keeping his distance for the night.

 

***

Hurricane pushed Pete’s shoulders backwards until his back hit the wall of the narrow hallways of this stinky warehouse. But it didn’t matter. All it mattered was his body close to hers, distance be damned, consequences be damned, because it may have been the booze or the music or that ridiculous paint dripping down his chest as light sweat made his skin shine a little. Or maybe it was those lips and the way he kept licking them, looking down at her like he wanted to devour her and he was holding back.

So Hurricane didn’t hold back. She wasn’t the type to silence those urges. So her lips attacked his greedily once more, just like she’d done back on the dance floor so boldly. It was like dancing one first dance just to learn your partner knows all the right steps. Pete’s hands worked miracles on her hips and on the small of her back and in her blonde locks and then his mouth devoured her neck, making her forget whose hurricane was bound to destroy whose. Because she learned that it was just so damn easy to get lost in Pete’s arms. And she thought she could find her way out of anywhere. But this entanglement of limbs, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers ft. Coldplay – Something just like this~

The night was full of surprises. They never sat still. The kiss from the rave was still fresh in their veins and lingered in the air between them, teasing them, and while Pete was having issues keeping his shit together any longer, Hurricane enjoyed the weight of it, enjoyed seeing Pete so troubled and knowing that, maybe she was ruffled. But so was he. And he had it way worse.

They left the rave little past midnight and spoke nothing of the heated moment back there, but Pete often found Hurricane licking her lips with a glint in her eyes and it did crazy stuff to his head and to his blood. The next stop was a car race, of course, and it took him aback how many people Hurricane knew. He felt practically invisible next to her. She went around the whole place, exchanging opinions and sipping on drink after drink and Pete tailed her awkwardly the entire time, like that shy puppy that doesn’t know anyone and wants to be pet. She insisted they signed up for a few races and of course, Pete couldn’t say no to her. And when the booze really started kicking in, he realized he was actually having fun. Sure, it was quite the shift in her attitude from kissing him dead against a wall and to radio silence. But every now and then, she’d offer a half smile over her shoulder. And Pete knew it was all part of the game.

They left the races around 4 a.m. It was freezing outside, but they had enough alcohol in their systems to numb away the numbness. Hurricane had somehow snatched a jacket from somewhere back at the party. Pete wasn’t even surprised. They climbed into his car and she let out a loud, satisfied sigh.

“What now, Miss calling-the-shots?”

She half glared at him, but smiled nonetheless. “The Kezar stadium.”

Pete frowned. “The Kezar stadium?”

“The Kezar stadium,” she confirmed, nodding excitedly. “Oh, and stop by a non-stop supermarket. Gotta grab a six-pack.”

 

***

Hurricane threw herself on the grass court, spreading out her arm and her legs like she could’ve made a snow angel. Well, a grass angel. Pete shook her head down at her.

“What are you doing? It must be freezing down there.”

“Worth it.”

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“Worth it.”

“Maybe get pneumonia?”

“Peter,” she groaned, sitting up on her elbows. “Shut up and get down here or I’ll make you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest in defiance and gave a little huff. “I’d like to see you try.”

Hurricane clicked her tongue as if she couldn’t believe that someone could actually stand up to her.

“Don’t make me flash you, Peter. I’ll do it. I’m not shy and I’m not scared and I’ll do it.”

“Oh, I know,” he smirked. “I was leading up to that.”

Hurricane bit her lip against laughter. “Look who grew a pair.”

“Funny,” he scowled, but before he could retort, Hurricane kicked him in the shins, making him crouch a little in pain to rub the spot.

She took advantage of the moment and sat up on her knees, grabbing the edge of his jacket and pulling him down. He stopped breathing for a second and she saw his pupils bloat in the pale moonlight. She pulled him lower and lower, biting her lip, until he was almost on top of her. She leaned backwards with his body hovering over hers, only imagining all the things that went through his head right now. Then, with a smirk, she grabbed his shoulders and rolled him off of her. He landed on his side with a thud.

“Ouch,” he groaned in pain. “That was just plain cruel.”

Hurricane giggled. “I never said I played fair.”

“No,” he sighed in defeat. “If I recall, you admitted to the exact opposite.”

“Precisely. Better keep that in mind for future references.”

He shook his head incredulously and finally looked up. He held his breath at his sight. Well, he had to give Hurricane this much. She’d been right. This was totally worth it. The sky was pretty clear for a late autumn night and the stars glimpsed down at them, blinking rapidly and sheltering them. He looked sideways at Hurricane and her eyes moved quickly, as if she were trying to count them all, to learn them all by their names and to keep them tattooed in the back of her mind. Well, maybe she was. But he was, too. Memorizing her. She was really a hurricane. And he wasn’t sure what his surviving odds were. He knew he wasn’t walking safe and sound out of this one. If was gonna fuck him up good. But it was the same as it had been with Hurricane’s view and her pneumonia. She knew the risks. But then she’d just decided it was worth it.

“Well?” her voice brought him back from his reverie. “Was I right or was I right?”

Pete rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving a guy too many options here. ”

She smirked back at him like she knew a secret that she kept from him. “Let’s just say that’s the way I like to do things.”

And she meant that. She didn’t do half measures. She was coming at Pete with all she had and she was gonna break him, she’d made up her mind. She was gonna leave him in ruins, ‘cause that’s what hurricanes do. But as she looked back at him, too, she realized something in her flawless plan had changed along the way. She just wasn’t so sure anymore that she’d get to walk away from this without a scratch.

 

Hey guys! For all the Pete/Aria shippers out there, I decided to put together some excerpts that tell their story in more details. And what a story it is, am I right? I just love these two so much, they’re a joy to write. Some more excerpts of them are bound to pop up every now and then, so stay tuned! Paul and Dawn will be there for you in the next chapter.

I’d love to hear some opinions!

Lots of love,

xoxo

17: Chapter 15: Science and faith

CHAPTER 15 – SCIENCE AND FAITH

~SOUNDTRACK: Ed Sheeran – Dive~

~Paul’s POV~

I watched Dawn walk out of the dorm, her arms crossed against her chest and her lips pursed, heading straight my way. She must have seen my car parked in the parking lot from her window. Or it could have been the half hour I’d spent honking. Oh, well. Guess we’ll never know.

I got out of the car the moment she reached it and bit my lip against a smile. God, I thought that red dress would be the death of me. But honest to God, I couldn’t make up my mind which Dawn I liked more. Sure, having her in my arms, wearing that red dress and my hoodie had been hot as hell and intoxicating and I had lots of trouble sleeping last night – well, more like morning – after I dropped her off. But now… She was wearing a hoodie of her own and a baggy T-shirt underneath, Hello Kitty pants and her hair was pulled back, as usual. She looked cozy. Like I could wrap her in a blanket and cuddle her to death. Oh, yeah. I knew I was in it deep. I wasn’t even trying to deny it anymore. Paul Rixon wanted to cuddle.

“So the way I see it, you have three options,” I told her instead of a greeting and she let out a loud sigh.

“Is there a specific reason why you decided to wake up the entire dorm in the middle of the night?”

“So option number one,” I ignored her; turns out the aggressive approach ended up in the most favorable results with Dawn. “I go home, grab my own pajamas – though I doubt I can pull off Hello Kitty the way you do,” I chuckled and she huffed, pulling the hoodie tighter around herself; which was absurd, because the Hello Kitties covered her pants. “And then we can both have a pajama party. I’ll bring the booze.”

“Right,” she narrowed her eyes at me. I loved that she wasn’t even trying to make sense of this all. At some point along the way, Dawn had started playing along. For some reason, my skin got all tingly at the thought.

“Option number two. We make out. Like, stat. Right now. Against the car. We both know we’re good at that. We’ve had practice, am I right?”

I winked at her and, hadn’t it been for the darkness of the night hiding her face, I was sure I would’ve been rewarded with that delicious blush of hers creeping across her cheeks.

“Also pass,” she muttered, but we both knew she didn’t mean it.

“Too bad,” I shrugged, playing nonchalantly. “I was hoping you’d choose one of these two. They’re pretty good. So that leaves us option three. You go back inside, put on some clothes and come with me.”

“Right,” she elongated the vowels, her eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “Because that’s such a good idea.”

“Well, I mean, you could keep the pajamas,” I smirked. “I actually dig them. But going out isn’t optional. It’s mandatory.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do I get a fourth option? Preferably one where I get to spend my Saturday night inside, studying, where it’s warm?”

“Not a chance,” I replied smugly. “Besides, I promise this time it’s warm where we’re going. No more romantic escapades in the snow. What’s enough is enough.”

She blinked at me a few times, then she groaned. “There’s gonna be some more breaking and entering, isn’t there?”

I laughed out loud at her cute little cringing face. “A little,” I admitted and she rolled her eyes over-dramatically.

“Just so you know,” she pointed a finger at me, “this whole sitting-in-front-of-my-dorm-waiting-for-me-to-ask-me-out trick isn’t very original. You just stole a page out of Pete’s playbook.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest with that stubbornness I found so hot and so infuriating at the same time. “Right, right,” I waved it off. “First of all, I gave Pete that idea. And secondly, at least I’m not enough of a moron to freeze myself to death.”

“Of course not,” she mocked me. “You just went for waking up the whole dorm.”

“Yup,” I grinned shamelessly. “Clock’s ticking, Dimples. What’s it gonna be? Because unless you make up your mind soon, I’ll just pick for you. So I either follow you back upstairs, kiss you against the car,” – this time she couldn’t hide her blushing – “or I kidnap you and take you on that date. So? Tick tock.”

She glared at me for a few minutes. I could usually tell when that small frown of hers warned me that she was looking for a way out of this. But this time, the frown wasn’t there. This time, she was biting her lip, thinking whether she was really ready to dive into this head first. I knew because I’d had the same civil war with myself. But the thing is, I’d lost that war. I’d already made the choice. I was diving. Head first, deep, recklessly.

Eventually, she closed her eyes and sighed, and I knew she’d lost the battle, too.

“Let me just go change.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Script – Science and faith~

“Seriously, Dawn,” I groaned, taking a left. We were almost there, and I couldn’t wait to see her face when she realized where I was taking her. “For someone as smart as you, that’s pretty dumb.”

“Hey!” she shrieked.

“I’m just saying,” I held up a hand in defense. “You can’t tell me you believe there’s a man with a long white beard upstairs who controls the weather and couldn’t give a shit about wars and global warming and world hunger, but who will let you burn in hell for what you decide to do with your genitalia. Unless you’re married. And even then, there’s restrictions. I mean, God forbid – pun intended – that you’d decide to marry another girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “I never said that.”

“Sure you did. Maybe not in so many words, but you implied it when you said you think the theory of evolution is a stretch.”

“Well, excuse me for not being entirely eager to state that my ancestors were monkeys.”

“Oh, because the old bearded man in the clouds makes more sense?”

“No,” she shrieked, turning her whole body to look at me, her face a little flushed; at this point, I didn’t even care what we were arguing about. I would’ve told her we were descendants of the octopus if it made her eyes sparkle like that with so much life. “I said the truth was somewhere in the middle.”

“Dawn, with all the time you spend looking up at all those stars and studying galaxies far, far away,” I grinned at her and she glared, sensing my Star Wars joke resting on the tip of my tongue, “you’d thing you would’ve found some God up there by now.”

She groaned in frustration. “And for someone who enjoys playing mysterious so much, you’d think you’d understand it.”

This time, I frowned. “What?”

She turned to face me, looking at me like I was some idiot kid who was having trouble understanding simple sentences. “It’s not about monkeys or bearded dudes in the clouds. It’s about wondering. It’s about the mystery. Ever heard of entropy?”

“I guess,” I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s, like, chaos, right?”

“Exactly,” she actually smiled at me, her eyes even more alive than before, wide and shining with the city lights reflecting in her brows irises. “It’s disorder. It’s randomness. The universe is way too hazardous to just rely on some theories to explain it all. You can’t try to put the chaos into categories. So that’s the beauty of it. Constantly wondering. Because as much as I like my comfort zone as a person, I do think the charm is in not knowing for a fact. Like that, the truth can be whatever you want it to be.”

I fell silent, unable to argue anymore. “Wow,” was all I could mutter, looking at her with wide eyes, praying I didn’t drive the car into a pole. She smiled smugly and I could’ve kissed that smile right off her lips. I found myself wishing I could do that more than anything I’d ever wanted. Like the air between us was too heavy for my lungs to bear, like the space between us tore off my limbs unless I reached for her. “That was pretty damn beautiful,” I whispered.

“I know,” she looked straight ahead, still smiling, and I let out a breath, shaking my head. This. This was why I could never get bored of Dawn Lovelace. I don’t know if she was aware of what she was doing to me. But every time I thought I had her figured out, she pulled out another ace from up her sleeve. And I wondered, how many aces can there be in a deck? I knew now. She was a deck full of aces only.

I pulled the car over and watched her, seeing as the realization finally lit up her features.

“We’re here,” I told her, though the statement was completely useless. She knew exactly where we were. For a space nerd like Dawn, this place must have been the closest place to heaven she could think of. But I wasn’t gonna go back into the whole heaven/hell debate again. I was too busy drinking her in, her fingers curling up in fists and her lips slightly parted, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Is that—“

“It is,” I replied before she could finish her question.

“No way.”

“California Academy of Sciences. With the Morrison Planetarium. Am I brilliant or am I brilliant?”

She let out a small incredulous laughter. “I’ve been wanting to come here ever since I moved to San Francisco. I never got around to it.” She turned to me. “Yeah. It’s pretty damn brilliant.”

I blinked at her, unsure how to reply. Well. I hadn’t expected her to actually acknowledge that. I was to used to her constantly counterattacking my attempts to get to her, that it took me aback that she was finally starting to let me in on her own accords.

“But, Paul,” she finally shook her head. “It’s the middle of the night. Is there some sort of night exhibition? Because nighttime tickets must cost a lot.”

I scoffed. “Who said anything about tickets?” I got out of the car before she could reply, circling the car and opening the door for her, extending a hand. She frowned, but she took it nonetheless and my fingers closed around hers, allowing the buzz in my veins to kick-start every sense in me.

Realization dawned on her. “Breaking and entering,” her shoulders dropped.

“Not exactly,” I closed one eye, swinging a little on my feet like a little kid, which only made her glare at me. “Like I said last time, it’s not called breaking and entering if we walk right in. And I happen to have connections.”

She threw her hands in the air, sighing in defeat. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

I laughed and threw my arm over her shoulders, starting to walk. Weirdly enough, I expected her to shrug it off, but she let it there. Maybe, just maybe, we were headed somewhere. I didn’t know where. But I couldn’t wait to get there.

“See, Dimples,” I clicked my tongue. “That’s what they call character development.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Justin Timberlake – Mirrors (Sam Tsui & Kurt Schneider cover)~

Dawn looked around her, mesmerized. And I looked at her, just as mesmerized as well. The dim light around her and her shiny eyes made her look like a galaxy of her own, getting to know her sisters as they gazed right back at her. Her hair was down again, and I couldn’t help but beam a little thinking that she wore it like that because she knew I liked it.

I was scared. I was terrified. I was shitting my pants from how fucking scared I was. This girl was under my skin so deep I don’t think I’d ever be able to shake her off now, or ever, even if I wanted to. And God dammit, I didn’t want to. It was borderline absurd. There’s this thing you never know you’ve been missing. Never needed, never wanted. And then it’s there. It pops up, under your nose, yours for the taking, and still you deny it. Never need it, never want it. But then you touch it, and suddenly you never need to let it out of your grasp, you never want to let it go. Dawn was that. Dawn was what I’d never needed, never wanted. And now I needed and wanted her so much it made me go insane. Standing there, surrounded by stars and galaxies, I told myself this girl and the universe she contained, burning so bright and so hot, must have been what they talked about when they kept saying ‘you just know’. Now I knew what I was supposed to know.

She turned to me, smiling brightly and it struck me dumb that that smile was meant for me only. I’d earned that. I had made Dawn reserve that smile for me. I realized I was staring at her with wide eyes, my mouth open, probably looking like an idiot, so I cleared my throat before speaking.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you wanna go?”

She frowned. “What?”

“One place. Any place on earth. If you had the possibility to jump in a plane right now that would take you anywhere, where would it be?”

She scratched her temple, walking to sit by my side on the floor, turning her neck upwards to watch the lights flickering with the colors of a billion galaxies above us, still enraptured in them. And me, enraptured in her.

“That’s random,” she commented and I snickered.

“Can you ever answer a simple question without disemboweling it first?”

She pulled her face in a grimace. “Disembowel. Vivid. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I replied and chuckled and she sighed before answering.

“I’m not sure. It depends a little.”

“On what?” I inquired.

“The purpose. The one place I’ve always wanted to visit is Venice. Ever since I was a kid. I don’t know what’s so special about it, but I don’t remember if there was ever a time when I didn’t dream of going there.”

“Must be those damn boats,” I mocked and she gave me a small shove with her shoulder.

“It’s called a gondola, Paul,” she chided me and I laughed. “And I don’t know if that’s it. Might be. But then again, if you ask me what’s the one place where I’d wanna live, my answer would change.”

“And what’s that?” I prompted.

“Marseille,” she answered without hesitation. “Again, I have no idea why. I guess I just have a thing for European cities. But I can see myself settling there, building a career for myself, working at the Marseille Observatory. That’s on my bucket list.”

She never tore her eyes away from the dance of the digital stars on the dome and I never tore my eyes from her. I’d been so wrong about Dawn Lovelace in so many ways. She was more than anyone could give her credit for. She wasn’t the lifeless exterior I’d made her out to be. In truth, below that thick crust of hers it took me so much to break, there was a soul so bright it blinded me. So much life and so much passion. No wonder she was so drop dead gorgeous on the outside.

“You have a bucket list?” I asked, whispering, because even though maybe she wasn’t aware of my revelations, I felt like the moment was too fragile to break it by raising my voice.

She nodded forcefully and I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t,” I shrugged.

“You should,” she said simply, finally looking down at me.

“What else is on that bucket list of yours?” I asked, and she blushed embarrassed. Oh, boy. Now I really wanted to know.

“Dumb stuff,” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Come on, Dimples. Now you’re chickening out? Trust me, if it’s kinky, I’ll love it.”

She slapped my shoulder and gasped while I barked a laugh. “Paul Rixon,” she scolded. “I mean, they’re childish and simple. You pervert.”

“I was kidding, you crazy woman,” I rubbed my shoulder. For such a tiny thing, she had a pretty decent right hook. “Come on, tell me. I won’t laugh, I promise.”

She sighed. “It’s… I don’t know. Really silly things. I wanna learn French. Get a cat or two. Or seven. Get a tattoo.” I laughed out loud at that one and she made a face. “Shut up. Drunk Dawn knows what sober Dawn’s bucket list is and she took advantage of it.”

“I didn’t say a word,” I held up my hands defensively. “What else?”

She looked at me pensively. “Learn sign language. Go on a road trip with Aaron, which we’ve wanted to do since we were kids. Yeah, we almost ran away from home one time. Long story. Let’s see, what else? See the Northern lights?”

I tilted my head to look at her, a smile on my face. “The Northern lights?”

“Yup,” she answered. “It’s a space thing, I guess. I’ve just always dreamed of standing under a sky painted in all those beautiful shades.”

“Huh,” was all I could say.

I could see it, too. Dawn, with all those lights reflecting in her eyes, staring up in awe, her nose a little red from the cold and a big smile plastered on her face. I shook it off, and my mind drifted to the other thing she’d said. About that Aaron guy and that road trip she wanted to take with him. And I remembered him back at the fundraiser yesterday. How he looked at her. How he glared at me the entire night. How he held her during that dance, so territorial, like he wanted to erase my touch from her body. The guy was smitten. And I wondered how oblivious Dawn really was about it.

“So, umm,” I started, unable to stop myself. “This Aaron. You’ve been friends a while, huh?”

She nodded. “A pretty damn while. I mean, Mandy’s my roommate and pretty much a sister at this point, but Aaron is different. He’s had my back, he’s been there at my best and stuck through the worst. He’s my best friend and I care about him like crazy.”

I bit my lip, but I knew I was gonna say it anyway, so it came as no surprise when I opened my mouth and let it out. “I don’t think he sees you that way.”

Dawn was silent for a second and didn’t look at me. I was worried that maybe I’d said it wrong or that she was gonna be offended, that the topic of Aaron was off limits, that she was gonna stand up and walk away. Because why would she stick with douche Paul when there’s nerdy Aaron who had stuck with her through her best and her worst?

“I know,” she replied eventually and my head flew up to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“You know?” I repeated dumb folded. So she wasn’t oblivious at all, after all.

“Yeah. I think I’ve known for a while, but it’s only yesterday that I knew for sure.”

I fell silent for a second, too. “The dance,” I whispered eventually, and she nodded.

“He said some things,” she said vaguely. “About you. About himself. And I realized he’s jealous. I don’t know if I’ve misled him and I’d be really sorry if he thinks that has been the case. I’ve never seen him as more of a friend, Paul. But I guess that, somewhere along the way, he started to look at me differently and I was too blind to see it.”

“I’m sorry if I came between you two,” I told her genuinely. I brushed my fingers against hers tentatively and she let me, intertwining them.

“You didn’t. It was a choice and I made it myself.”

A choice. I tensed and she looked up at me.

“I didn’t know you’d made up your mind. About… About me,” I added, searching her face for a way to read what was going through that head of hers.

She simply shrugged. “I’ve made up my mind about you the moment I saw you, Paul.”

I closed one eye and made a grimace. “That doesn’t sound good.”

She laughed. “Well, luckily for you, my choice has nothing to do with it. I know who you are. I’ve just chosen to deal with it and look through the cracks.”

I swallowed hard and her eyes found mine. I squeezed her hand.

“You sure about that choice?” I dared to ask. “Douche Paul over B.F.F. Aaron?”

She rolled her eyes. “Aaron was never part of the choice. And douche Paul is bearable sometimes. But who knows?” She looked back up, at the stars and galaxies above our heads. “I told you, Paul. The joy is in wondering.”

 

18: Chapter 16: A hundred million reasons to walk away

CHAPTER 16 – A HUNDRED MILLION REASONS TO WALK AWAY

~SOUNDTRACK: Novo Amor & Ed Tullett – Faux~

~Dawn’s POV~

I was walking the streets of San Francisco hand in hand with Paul Rixon. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part.

We’d spent hours in the Planetarium, talking about dreams and hopes and the future and I found myself oddly okay with him being there, in it, somewhere. He let me point out constellation, though I’m pretty sure he was staring at me instead of the stars, but I was oddly okay with that, too. Paul looked at me the same way Pete looked at Aria. As if, had I told him to jump, he would’ve been halfway through the leap before I got to finish the sentence. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part. Because I would’ve jumped right with him.

So when we walked out of the Planetarium, half drunk on the universe and the galaxies and starlight, and the other half drunk on Paul, he stood in front of me, one hand extended. And I wasted not one breath before taking it. I didn’t know what that made us. Or where we were going. Or how we’d get there, if ever. Or how insane it was. Because nothing worth ever lacks a touch of insanity. Nothing worth comes from playing it safe. How odd for Dawn Lovelace to be thinking that. While walking hand in hand with Paul Rixon, of all people, who was the complete opposite of playing it safe. He was exciting. And a little dangerous. He was an explosion of lights behind my eyes and in my stomach and all it took was his hand holding mine tight to make me think that maybe, just maybe, it’s possible for all the things I’d looked for through a telescope to be right here, within my racing heart, in the space between us, in the gap between his parted lips every time he stole glances at mine hungrily.

“You know, that’s three times we’ve went out now,” I commented eventually, smiling up at him and he closed one eye pensively in that way that was too cute to be bearable.

“Three and a half,” he said and I rolled my eyes. “Hey, hey, I’m just trying to be accurate.”

“Right,” I gave him a little shove with my shoulder. “What would your cool friends have to say if they knew badass mysterious leather-jacket-to-the-bone Paul counts dates like a school girl?”

He scoffed. “Leather-jacket-to-the-bone? You say it like it’s a bad thing.” I laughed and he sighed. “Man, Pete would never let me live this down.”

I rolled my eyes again at him. “Oh, please. Like he’s one to talk. He’s so smitten with Aria I almost feel bad for him.”

He let out a satisfied sigh and for a second, I felt like I got a peak at the Paul beneath all that leather crust. Those were rare moments. Sure, he let his guard down around me. He dropped the pretenses and allowed himself to be someone genuine, and that had earned his safe passage straight to the gates of my heart. I’d learned there was more to him than met the eye. But nevertheless, it didn’t escape me that he never opened up, not the way I did. I noticed how he never talked about his family, about his parents, about his past, and he was weirdly vague about the future. But now, with that little sigh, I caught a quick glance at the Paul who really loved his best friend and wanted him to be happy. A version of Paul who valued the well-being of the people he cared about, and yet again, I wondered in how many more ways I could still be wrong about him.

“He is, isn’t he?” he said in a small voice. “Aria has him hooked pretty well.”

“And he has her, too,” I commented. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Hey, I called it,” he was quick to retort. “Give my man Pete some credit.”

“Paul, he took her bowling.”

“You said she liked it, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah but—“

“Called it!” he cut me off, and I tried to be mad at him, but I had to bite my lip against a chuckle and how childish he was. “It’s the puppy eyes. Hurricane never stood a chance. You know, she’s a lot like me. She likes to play it cool, like nothing can touch her,” he stopped in front of me, and I raised an eyebrow at the dramatics of it, “but that’s not true. There’s always that person who slips through the cracks. A blind spot. And by the time you realize what hit you, you’re already too far gone.”

I stayed silent for a moment, processing his words. “Is that what you think is happening right now?”

He simply shrugged. “You tell me.” I glared.

“Don’t turn this against me, Paul Rixon.”

“No games, I promise,” he gaze my hand a squeeze. “Real question. Don’t you think that’s true? It can be either your case or mine. Works both ways. But a couple weeks ago, neither of us would’ve thought this could happen. Am I right or am I right?”

He held out our laced hands to make a point and I sighed. About one thing he was right, I realized as I looked at my fingers intertwined with his. Just a few weeks ago, I wanted Paul Rixon out of my life. Right now, I was starting to feel everything in it moving around me just to make some room for him. It was simple like that. Things like these always are. It’s not hard. That’s the whole thing. It’s so easy it’s scary. You just wake up one day and realize you’ve started to long, to need, to want, to seek. It’s physics. It’s gravity. It’s science. When two objects start moving toward each other, the impact, the collision is inevitable.

“You know, there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, jerk,” I teased and he wrinkled his nose.

“And yet a finer one between stubbornness and…” he trailed off thinking. “Okay, so I didn’t think this one through. I have no idea where I was going with it. Point is, you’re stubborn and you’re lucky I like you.”

I laughed out loud and shook my head and we started walking again. My dorm was pretty close to the Planetarium, and we’d decided we could use a walk. In all truthness, I think we just wanted to steal as much time next to each other as we could. We were insatiable these days and weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.

~SOUNDTRACK: Royal Deluxe – Dangerous~

We kept walking until we were getting close to my dorm, going on talking and laughing. And I think I felt the chill in the air before it happened. Like the cold winter air was trying to warn me about the upcoming disaster. Chills rose up my spine and, as anticipated, not 30 seconds had passed before we heard them.

“Fine piece of meat, mate.”

That was the first one. There were two of them, right across the street. Bottles in their hands, unsteady on their feet, clearly drunk. I felt Paul’s steps falter and his hand squeezed mine. I squeezed right back and pulled him forward a little. It wasn’t worth it. Stuff like this happened to me on a daily basis. It’s the food chain, the broken food chain I fought so hard against as a feminist. Women are prey, and men are predators. Because women are small and fragile and can’t defend themselves, so they’re to be taken advantage of, right?

“That’s one fine ass,” the other one called, loud enough to make sure we heard him; oh, we heard him alright. “Getting a nice bite of it tonight, mate?”

This time, Paul stopped in his place and I noticed him tense, shaking, his breathing ragged. I knew enough about him to safely assume he had a temper. My hand flew up to catch his elbow and he relaxed a little under my touch, but I wasn’t sure whether it was enough to make him keep walking.

“Paul,” I whispered. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

He squeezed my hand so tight I was afraid he was gonna break a few fingers, but I didn’t complain. I just wanted him out of here before he combusted. Things like this never ended well, for either part. Eventually, I felt him relax and his shoulders dropped. He let out a loud sigh and his eyes found mine, hard, but melting by the second. He nodded at me and I offered a smile as we started walking again.

But because the universe had a really bleach sense of humor, it couldn’t let me have this one small victory.

“Come on, man,” one of the drunks kept calling. Did this dude have a death wish? “Don’t be like that. At least share, huh? I bet she’d look good on her knees.”

I flinched and I knew it was gonna end bad the moment Paul’s hand left mine.

“That’s it. Stay here.”

“Paul, no—“ I tried to reason with him. “Paul, don’t!”

But he gave no sign that he’d heard me. And I had no way to stop him as he crossed the streets. The drunks had the nerve to even talk back at him, cheering him on and saying something I couldn’t hear. I saw Paul give one of them a small shove.

And then all hell broke loose. I released a loud breath when the first punch landed straight in Paul’s face. I felt my heart thump loudly against my chest and I wasted no second before crossing the street. I didn’t know what I could do, but I had to try. I couldn’t let Paul have the living crap beaten out of him and just stand idly by.

Paul recovered quickly, returning the punch, but they were two against one. He landed some good punches, but he was outnumbered. Eventually, one of the guys held him while the other one kicked him in the stomach. It was unbearable to watch.

“Stop!” I tried to interfere. “Let him go! Please, stop! Paul!”

I grabbed at one of their sleeves, but his hand flew backwards, hitting me across the cheek and sending me flying straight on my ass. I heard Paul grunting in pain, trying to defend himself. He managed to kick his knee into one of the guys’ face and he stumbled, but the other one hit him in the back, making Paul buckle to his knees. They started kicking him as he was down, and I could see there was no scenario in which he could win this fight.

Not alone. I didn’t waste a breath. I fished through my purse for my pepper spray. Gosh, luckily for me, I never left the house without it. Armed with my pepper spray in one hand, I realized the opportunity to get close enough to use it may not arise, so I did the next best thing. I looked around me and noticed the empty bottles lying on the ground. Next thing I knew, I grabbed one and slammed it straight into one of the guys’ head. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey!” I called, making the other one realize only now that his partner was down. He looked confused at the unconscious body at his feet, then back up at me. I made good use of my chance, bringing the pepper spray up and spraying him straight in the eyes. He screamed and brought his hands up to his eyes, cursing at me the whole time. But with his friend unconscious and Paul not far from it, either, I couldn’t be safe with this one still standing.

So, hoping I could put Aria’s lessons to good use, I tried to remember what she’d thought me. I bent my knees. I kept my thumb outside my fist. I kept my wrist straight. I shifted my weight and I swung. My knuckles connected with his jaw and he let a low grunt of pain as he fell backwards, joining his friend on the pavement.

I let out a curse and shook my hand. It hurt like a bitch, but with the adrenaline flowing through my veins, I figured it was gonna hurt worse tomorrow morning.

I hurried to Paul’s side, who groaned in pain. I kneeled by his side, too worried to even touch him. His face was bloody, clothes ripped and ruffled, and he was somewhere between passed out and barely conscious. It broke my heart to see him like this.

“Paul?” I dared to shake his shoulder gently. “Paul, can you hear me? Paul, hey, look at me. Can you stand? Jesus. We gotta get you to a hospital.”

“No,” he grunted. “No hospital. Gotta get you home.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I raised my voice, grabbing his elbow and helping him stand, all the while also trying to dial for a cab to take us to the emergency room. “This isn’t up for discussion, Paul. Let’s take care of you. Then we can talk about this little stunt you just pulled.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Oh Wonder – Heart rope~

“Alright,” the nurse secured the last bandage around Paul’s torso. “I’d like to keep you here overnight for observation, but you should be fine.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples, feeling the pulsations from the aftermath of the rush. We were in the emergency room and I sat there, wordlessly, as the nurse patched Paul up. She said he was lucky. All he had were some bruised ribs, a swollen eye and some cuts on his face, but no concussion. I would’ve said he was pretty out of luck. I felt the rage burning beneath the surface of my skin, willing to snap at him and show him that those drunks had been a breeze. I was the storm he should’ve been afraid of.

“No,” he whispered, holding his breath in pain. “Can’t stay.”

The nurse glared at him and put her hand on her hip. “Sorry, sugar. Hospital policy. I gotta keep you here or it’s on me if I missed a concussion.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he grunted, trying to stand up, but after everything that had just happened, I really wasn’t in the mood for his games. I stood up and pushed his shoulders back down.

“Stop this,” I hissed through my teeth. “You’re in pretty rough shape already. If she says you gotta stay, you stay.”

But seeing as he was already as stubborn as me, he just kept glaring back. “No,” he said simply, then turned to the nurse again. “I gotta take my… I gotta take Dawn home. It’s already late and I couldn’t live with myself knowing I let her walk out of here when that thing could happen again. And I wouldn’t be around to protect her.”

“You saw I can take care of myself,” I tried to keep my voice low and not doing a very good job.

“I won’t take my chances.”

“Paul—“

“Dawn.”

His tone shut me up. I couldn’t win this with him, I could see it in his eyes. He’d taken this almighty bodyguard job upon himself and he was too stupid to see how absurd it was. Before I could keep arguing, I heard the nurse sight behind us.

“Your choice, kid,” she said. “I’ll go get a declaration for you to sign that you’re walking out of here willingly and that you’re acknowledging the risks.”

Paul nodded and she turned on her heels, letting the two of us alone. I sank back into my seat, sighing, feeling the heaviness of everything that had happened tonight making my head spin at high speed, throbbing in pain. Paul and I just sat there in silence, occasional grunts of pain as he moved being the only thing that filled the charged air. Eventually, he sat up, and I resisted the instinct to rush by his side and help him up. Because I wasn’t sure I could touch him without kicking his ass for having put me through this.

“Aren’t we gonna talk about it?” he asked in a small voice, and I thought he sounded like he actually felt bad about it. I didn’t look up to check his face for signs of remorse. I was afraid I might have found them there. And I wanted to hold on to my anger, because I had a point to make, and if I looked at him and realized he was sorry, I might have just let it slide.

“No,” I said simply, and my tone shut him up. We sat in silence, waiting for the nurse to come back with his paperwork. He signed a statement that he was refusing hospitalization at his own risk, and when the nurse asked him whether he wanted to press charges against the guys who had handed his own ass back to him, I saw him clench his fists and felt him tense by my side. He wanted to. I wanted them to pay, too. But I was tired and pissed off and it had been a long night and I didn’t need another pissing contest from Paul. One had been more than enough. I shot him one glare and he let out a loud breath.

“Never mind,” he told the nurse, forcing a smile. “We should go now. It’s late.”

The nurse helped him up and I stood as well, waiting and keeping my distance as he got dressed. His eyes flickered with a glimmer of hurt at the hardness in my gaze and at my distant stance, but I couldn’t think about that.

“Well,” the nurse shoved her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “Take care, kid. You were lucky now, but I don’t wanna see your face here anytime soon, you hear me? Stay out of trouble.” Then she turned to me. “Keep this one around. You’re lucky to have a knight in shining armor around to save the day. Those are rare these days.”

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, not even bothering to force a smile. “Yeah. Lucky me.” I strode off without waiting for a reply. I could wait for Paul outside, letting the cold winter air clear my head a little before facing him again. Knight in shining armor to save the day. Well, the poor nurse couldn’t have known the damsel in distress was the one who saved the day and the almighty knight this time.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Lady Gaga – Million reasons (KHS, KENZ, Spencer Lloyd Cover)~

We walked in silence, side by side. Me with my arms crossed over my chest, keeping him out. Him with his hands in his pockets, arm brushing against mine every now and then, asking me to let him in. He didn’t push me, though. He waited for me to speak first. He waited for me to break the silence and let him defend himself. I wasn’t about to. I just wanted to get away from him and think this through before I made a decision about him.

I’d just kept saying how wrong I was about Paul, over and over again. Maybe I was developing a bit of a blind spot for him. But tonight, I’d just been proven that I wasn’t entirely wrong about him. I was still right about some things. Suddenly, I remembered Aaron and how valiantly I declared I knew what I was getting myself into. That I knew who Paul was. I realized now that maybe, just maybe, there were parts of him I’d chosen to ignore and that I wasn’t ready to jump this train just yet.

We finally made it to my dorm. He paused by the sidewalk, his hands still in his pockets and his shoulders slouched. He looked like a kid waiting to be scolded for eating cookies before dinner. Like a dog waiting to be kicked for chewing your favorite shoes. I forced myself to remember I was insanely mad at him, to hold on to that anger instead of wanting to kiss all of those bruises away.

“Well,” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’ve got one minute, then I’m out of here. Better make it good.”

He let out a long sigh, too, then pulled his hands out of his pockets, crossing them over his chest as well. “Am I supposed to apologize?”

I huffed incredulously. “I don’t know, Paul. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do. It’s up to you if I just walk away right now and don’t look back or if I actually hear you out.”

“Hear what out?” he raised his voice a little. “You think I’m gonna apologize for wanting to keep my girlfriend safe?”

“Your girlfriend?” I shrieked, feeling like the talk was taking a turn I hadn’t anticipated. But he didn’t seem to have heard me.

“You think I’ll apologize for reacting the way I did when those motherfuckers catcalled you like some basic slut?”

“Yes!” I yelled back. “Yes, I expect you to!”

“Well, tough shit, Dawn! I won’t. I was out of line? Sure. Fine by me. But I did the right thing.”

“You didn’t,” I tried to reason with him. “You think this is the first time this has happened to me, Paul? I’ve got news for you, it’s not! Crap like this happens to me on a daily basis. We’re women, of course we get catcalled. We can handle it. We walk away and we pretend we can’t hear because otherwise, shit goes down for us. It’s the way it’s always been, it’s not okay, but we got used to it. And if I recall, it was me who saved your ass, not the other way around. I can take care of myself, dammit. I don’t need you to play hero and give me a freaking heart attack.”

He exhaled loudly. “Fine,” he kept screaming, like it was the exact opposite of fine. “So I screwed up. That doesn’t change the fact that I did it for the right reasons.”

“I know you think that,” I fought back tears. “I know you do, but they weren’t. Even if they were, it was the wrong course of action, Paul. I can’t stand here before you, or in the emergency room holding your hand, not when you’re the enactment of why I see no possible scenario where you and I could work.”

I bit my lip, feeling the tears gather in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t cry, not in front of him. It was better to cut the evil from its roots, before it could bloom in my heart, thorns and all. Because I knew, I knew this could break me, shake my foundations and tore me inside out. Wasn’t it better to let it go before it came to that?

“Listen to me, Dawn. I’ll only say this once,” he stepped forward, lips pursed in determination. “I’m hot tempered. I’m a jackass. I’m a spoiled, arrogant prick. And you’re stubborn and infuriating and uptight. I’m too wrong for you and you’re too right for me. We’re a lost cause, no matter what we do.”

I felt a tear slip and wiped it away angrily. “Yeah,” I smiled bitterly. “Thanks for the reminding.”

He groaned in exasperation. “See, if you’d just let me finish! We’re a lost cause. So it’s not gonna be easy, it’s gonna be really hard. I’m not gonna change, and neither are you. Life doesn’t work like it does in books, Dawn. There isn’t some magical love that can change people and suddenly turn them into role models. I won’t be someone different for you, no matter how crazy I am about you. I will fuck up, I will constantly fuck up, and you’re gonna have to keep letting it slide.”

I barked a humorless laugh. “Have to? I don’t get a say in it?”

“You don’t,” he took another step. “You don’t, because that’s how dysfunctional we are. Because that’s how crazy about each other we are. There’s no walking away from this, not now. So we’re wrong for each other and we don’t stand a chance. But no cause is a lost cause. Nothing. Certainly not us. And I’ve never been one to stick around for that along, but dammit, Dawn, I’m willing to swim against the current on this one.” He paused, his eyes finding mine, and I realized I wasn’t breathing. “That is, if you are, too.”

Silence fell over us, and I realized his speech was over. The ball was in my court. He’d made it my move and, all of a sudden, everything I thought I’d known only moments before felt shaky. What evil roots? Paul was already there, building his nest like a scary stubborn giant falcon. There was no kicking him out. And wasn’t this what I’d told Aaron? That I knew who Paul was? That he was who I’d fallen for, fuck-ups and all?

“You can’t pull off that stunt again,” I pointed a finger at him, voice shaking and lips trembling, and I saw his shoulders relax a little.

“I will, though,” he stepped forward and I glared at him.

“You won’t. And you’ll listen to me next time.”

“I won’t.”

“You have to, Paul. If you really want this to work—“

He stopped me mid-sentence by capturing my lips with his, making me gasp in surprise. My hands flew to his shoulders, steadying myself and his settled around my waist, exhaling in satisfaction. I could just get lost in this kiss forever, so sweet and different from the passion of last time. His lips moved gently around mine, like sealing a promise. But then I realized what he was doing and I pulled away, missing the softness of his lips instantly, but the sting of my pride didn’t allow it for too long.

“And you can’t just kiss me quiet every time just so that you can win the arg—“

He stopped me once again with a kiss, and with all the rage still trying to burn like a tired ember, I couldn’t help but laugh under his lips. He planted small quick kisses on my lips until he left me breathless and I thought I could get used to this. I couldn’t imagine getting tired of the feel of his lips dancing with mine in this dizzy tango.

“Sure I can,” he whispered into my hair, keeping me close to him, so tight I was afraid I would break. “I’m a bad guy, remember? And we’ve got many battles to fight, so I figured I should choose my weapon.”

I smiled into his chest. He’d chosen his weapon. And I’d chosen my poison. I knew it was gonna be a slow and agonizing death by his side, but I didn’t regret it for a second.

 

 

Hey, guys! I was feeling inspirational these days, so I thought I’d land a new chapter.  A lil angsty, but it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? Baby Paul just can’t help himself.

On another note, I’d like to offer a special thanks to those of you who take some time to give me some feedback that often makes my day. Professional Weirdo and Paige, I’m looking at you particularly! Those private messages from you made my heart grow so much, you can’t even imagine. And the rest of you, too, don’t think you go unnoticed. Every little thought counts and I’m one happy lil writer.

Also, stay tuned! I’ll upload a new Paul/Dawn video in the next couple of days, and you’ll be able to find it on youtube, under the username kiki cosmina.

Lots of love,

xoxo

19: Chapter 17: How we roll

CHAPTER 17 – HOW WE ROLL

~SOUNDTRACK: Britt Nicole – How we roll~

~Dawn’s POV~

I opened the door to my dorm room just to find Aria standing right behind it, a huge grin on her face and a bottle of God knows what in her hand. I groaned out loud. Would I never again be able to have one minute, just one minute to myself? There was the fundraiser on Friday and staying up with Paul until sunrise. Not that I’d minded, but those were some sleeping hours I was never getting back. Then there had been last night. As nice as the whole Planetarium thing had been, the whole spending the night in the E.R. and having my wrist swollen and hurting as hell was not something I appreciated. And sure, maybe I’d decided I could give Paul a shot to redeem himself and see where this whole thing was gonna take us, but even he’d agreed to give me my Sunday off. For studying. And hiding. From people and life and human interaction.

Count on Aria to kill the mood.

“Mamma’s in the house,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me, holding up the bottle of bourbon and I straight up felt like punching her in the face.

“Aria, no.”

She moved past me inside the room, ignoring me completely. “Aria, yes. Pete told me you and Paul had quite the night.” She winked at me as I just stared at her incredulously. “And not in the good way. So I’m here to drink the pain away.”

I shut the door behind me with a loud thud and crossed my arms over my chest. “There’s no pain to drink away.”

With her back turned on me, she started pouring two drinks. “Sure, there is. If anything, at least the pain to have me as a sister. Cause I ain’t going away.”

“Aria,” I whined like a little kid, on the verge of stomping my foot. “I have had two very long nights. And not in the good way. All I’m asking for is a quiet Sunday with no one bothering me while I do my nerd thing. That’s it. A nerd day.”

She turned around, looking at me through narrowed eyes, looking as if she was actually considered it. I allowed myself to hope for a second, but I should’ve known better. The second that grin spread across her face, I knew I was not gonna be able to shake her off today. I was stuck with Aria and booze and talking about crap I didn’t wanna talk about.

She handed me a drink and I eyed it maliciously before raising my gaze to meet hers. “One drink. I tell you what happened last night. Briefly. Then you go bother Pete or Mandy and you leave me alone. Mamma needs her studying. Do we have a deal?”

She smiled and I knew she was lying to me before the word left her mouth.

“Deal.”

 

***

“Bowling?” I snickered, letting out a pig-like snort that made Aria lose balance and nearly knock over the bottle of bourbon. Not that it would’ve mattered anyway; the bottle was almost empty by now. “Seriously, Aria, bowling? That’s… Mundane.”

She gasped and wanted to punch me, failing miserably. “How dare you? Bowling is… Pete is… I like bowling. And I like Pete.”

“So you like bowling cause you like Pete.”

“No,” she scoffed, then considered. “No,” she stated, more self-assured this time. “No, I like bowling. And Pete. Separately.”

I giggled and tried to gulp down another shot, just to notice my glass was empty.

“We’re outta booze,” I let Aria know and she just shrugged. Well. We were pretty wasted already, so it didn’t matter much. The Lovelace sisters, lying on the floor, an empty bottle of bourbon between them, barely able to speak. Mom would have a heart attack if she saw us now.

My eyes widened and I stood up abruptly, giving myself vertigo in the process. My stomach disagreed with the sudden movement and I prayed I wouldn’t puke before saying what I needed to hear.

“Too fast,” Aria complained, her eyes closed and her face contorted in a grimace. “Dizzy. ‘Sup?”

“Mom,” was the only thing I replied and I saw Aria’s own eyes widen in shock. Well, glad to know I wasn’t the only one who had forgotten. She stood up just as fast as I had earlier and ended up just as dizzy, but it appeared as if the shock was enough to kick us at least a little bit sober.

“The dinner tonight,” she groaned and put her hands on her head in despair. “Shit. I completely forgot.”

“We’re drunk as hell, Aria,” I moaned, launching myself into an unsuccessful attempt to tame down my ruffled clothes, the shirt hanging only by one shoulder, the sweater I had only one arm in and my jeans rolled up to my knees. “We can’t show up at home like this, in front of mom. She’ll skin us alive.”

The room was spinning and Aria’s face was turning a little green. Oh, we were so screwed. We looked at each other and we knew what we had to do. We were gonna be miserable and hungover, but then again, I’d have picked the cold shower over a scolding from a pissed off mom every day.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Florence + The Machine – Dog days are over~

“This is terrible,” Aria said, holding her breath against the nausea that I’m pretty sure mimicked mine and I would’ve probably laughed if I weren’t feeling just as terrible.

“Just don’t puke all over mom’s carpet and we’ll be fine,” I whispered as we stood in front of the door, pulling ourselves together. “And follow my lead.”

“That’s terrible,” she repeated and I glared at her.

“You have any better ideas?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Tell her the truth?”

“Oh, sure,” I mocked. “How would that go? ‘Hey, mom. So, I haven’t slept for the past two nights because I was out with a guy I’m in more or less of a relationship with and who’s a complete ass that I happen to have a really inconvenient crush on. I have no idea where Aria has been, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to, that is if Pete wants to keep his balls. Oh, and we were just getting wasted earlier. Had an entire bottle of bourbon just for ourselves. I’m pretty sure my socks don’t match, I think I have weird stuff sticking in my hair and if you’ll excuse us, we’re gonna take turns shoving our heads in the toilet to throw up now.’ Does that cover it?”

Aria simply stared at me, arms crossed over her chest. “You could’ve just said no.”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes at me and with that, we marched to our death. That’s to say, we walked into our own house and faced our parents. We found mom in the kitchen and she beamed at our sight.

“Oh, hey,” she hugged us both. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you both. It’s like we never get to sit around the same table at the same time anymore these days. Come, sit, sit. I made lasagna.”

Aria and I exchanged a guilty glance. We didn’t deserve lasagna. We were hungover terrible daughters.

She paused and looked at us through narrowed eyes. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting weird.” She put the back of her hand on Aria’s forehead and my sister scoffed in exasperation. “Did you catch a bug or something? You look sick. Want me to make you some tea?”

“Mom, it’s fine, really,” I hurried to reassure her. “We’ve just been up late studying this weekend and we haven’t really been eating or sleeping well. Nothing some rest won’t fix.”

She shook her head and ignored me completely. I guess I knew where Aria had gotten that from. “It’s good I’ve got that lasagna going. I knew you wouldn’t be eating well without me to take care of you. Ah, yes. Oh, and some tea. Tea should make everything better. Oh, and you’re sleeping over next weekend. That’s not up for discussion. I’ll get you both on your feet in no time.”

Aria and I exchanged a glance. Count on mom to blow it out of proportions. Well, I guess it was still better than having her know the actual reason why we were in this state. Can people still be grounded if they don’t live under the same roof as their parents? Well, knowing our parents, it was still a possibility.

“Speaking, umm, of having the entire family for dinner,” Aria tried to change the topic. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, he should be home any second now. Long day at work.”

She barely got the word out when the front door opened and dad walked in. His face lit up when he saw us and Aria jumped up and went to hug him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he laughed, patting her head. “Long time no see, you two.”

He winked at me and I made my way to hug him, too. Truth be told, I didn’t realize how much I really missed my parents, having a nice family dinner, just the four of us. This had been the whole purpose of tonight. Catching up, maybe slowly starting to prepare them for the idea that I was going out with the douche Paul I’d painted so vividly as a complete bastard. Well, he was. But my parents didn’t need to know that now that we were dating.

We sat around the table and mom stuffed us with lasagna and tea and dessert, and while Aria wasn’t exactly complaining, I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna be able to touch or be around food for the next two weeks.

“Guess who I ran into today,” dad sat back in his chair, smiling at me. I panicked for a second, my brain jumping straight to Paul. And then I realized how absurd I was being. Dad didn’t even know him. And not everything was about Paul, though I’m sure he would’ve claimed otherwise.

“Who?” I frowned at him.

“Aaron. Remember Aaron? Your childhood friend?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, dad, that rings a bell. Since I spent half of my life with him and since he used to spend more time at our place than at his own.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” he teased me. “But since he happened to mention that you two haven’t seen much of each other lately, I just thought you were having some sort of memory loss.”

Beware Hank Lovelace. Ultimate Dawn and Aaron shipper. I mean, Aaron had practically grown up before his eyes. He saw how much care Aaron took of me and how close we were and how much he’d respected me both as a teenager and as a young woman. Aaron was everything my dad could ask for when it came to someone to look after his daughter. Too bad things hadn’t gone his way. And were never going to. I don’t know if Aaron and I were still on speaking terms, but as long as Paul was around, that ship was never gonna sail. Now I just had to find a way to explain that to my dad smoothly and with tact. After all, I was pretty sure he already had a speech in mind for my wedding with Paul. I almost felt bad for shattering his dreams like that. Jesus, I almost sighed out loud. Hank Lovelace, the fangirl.

“I’ve just been busy,” I explained, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Kept busy.”

I widened my eyes at Aria. She froze in place, realizing the words had left her mouth before her brain could filter them. I shot her knives with my eyes. My parents looked between the two of us confused, sensing the tension. And because I just couldn’t help myself, I threw Aria under the bus to save my own ass.

“What, like I’m the only one?” I spat, regretting the storm our own words were gonna create as soon as the question was out of my mouth. Our parents looked at us, their eyes narrowed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” mom leaned forward over the table and I saw it in Aria’s eyes, the payback I was gonna suffer for stabbing her in the back. I glared back, because after all, she’d been the one to start this whole mess. All of it. From the bourbon and the drunk afternoon all the way to not thinking before opening her mouth.

“It means,” she smiled sweetly at mom and dad, “Dawn’s seeing someone.”

I gasped and hurried to speak before our parents could react. “So is Aria.”

“Dawn’s seeing douche Paul. Remember she talked about him?”

“Aria’s seeing his best friend. She met him at the car races.”

It was her turn to gasp and, in all truthness, I was throwing myself under the bus too with this one. I’d been the one to take Aria to the races that one time, on her birthday, after all. Well, so much for our ‘I ain’t no snitch’ policy.

“Yeah, well, Dawn spent the night with Paul.”

I let out a small yelp and noticed that mom looked like she was having a stroke, while dad was gripping the edge of his seat.

“It wasn’t like that,” I shrieked, realizing how guilty it made me sound. “Mom, I swear. You know me. It was just coffee and walking and, and, and… He took me to the freaking Planetarium.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Pete took Aria bowling.”

I saw dad’s eyebrows rise in disbelief. Right. I forgot I was living in a family where it was more likely for me to get it on with douche Paul than for Aria to go bowling willingly on a date.

“I like bowling,” she screamed at me, then turned to mom. “Yeah, well, Dawn—“

“Enough!”

We both sealed our mouths shut at mom’s sudden outburst. While dad was in too much shock to react, mom had no such trouble. Aria and I sank back into our seats like when we were kids and she grounded us both every time she caught us in a fight, because she didn’t really care who started it; we were always both the culprits. Guess that was her way to treat us equally. And the way to ensure that Aria and I had each other’s backs, putting our problems aside at least in front of mom in order to save both our asses. How had we slipped so much today? We looked at each other and I knew we were later going to consent to blame it on the alcohol. When in doubt, always blame the alcohol.

“Alright,” mom settled back into her chair, taking a deep breath. “I guess we have a lot to talk about. And there’s only one way to settle this. Hank?”

Dad looked at her a little scared. “Are you sure?”

Mom ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame down rebel strands like she always did when she was trying to keep calm.

“One way to find out,” she answered him, then turned to us. “Well? Out with your phones and text the boys. Dinner, tomorrow at 8.”

Aria and I shot each other nervous glances. Argument aside, we could both agree this was a terrible idea. Pete and Paul in the same room with our parents. Hell, I had trouble being in the same room as Paul myself still, but have him sit at the same table with my dad and my mom? The list of reasons why this was a bad idea unfolded itself before my eyes, screeching like nails on a chalkboard.

“Mom—“ Aria tried, but she just raised a hand as if to say she would take no objections to this.

“Not up for discussion, Aria. We’ll see what these Pete and Paul are made of. And why you were so keen to keep them hidden. Tomorrow. 8 o’clock.”

8 o’clock. Somehow, it sounded like a doctor calling the time of death. The analogy was more fitting that I cared to admit.

 

20: Chapter 18: The best thing, the worst thing, the actual thing

CHAPTER 18 – THE BEST THING, THE WORST THING, THE ACTUAL THING

~SOUNDTRACK: Royal Deluxe – Make a little money~

~Paul’s POV~

“This is a terrible idea,” Pete muttered by my side, wiping his sweaty palms off his jeans. “I can’t breathe.”

“Will you chill?” I rolled my eyes. “It’ll be fine.”

Thought, truth be told, I was pretty sure I was more nervous than Pete, but I was just better at hiding it. All I’d wanted was to get the girl and I had been relentless in doing so. So I got the girl, and I was still getting used to that, cause Paul Rixon had never been particularly interested in getting girls. So as I was trying to wrap my head around it and to make sense of the relationship I had with Dawn, she calls and asks me to dinner to meet her parents. Along with my boy Pete. Needless to say, I was freaking out. And I had to get it under control. I was Paul freaking Rixon. I wasn’t your regular dude who’s trying to impress parents.

“It will not be fine,” Pete groaned. “I’m awkward and weird and I sweat a lot when I’m nervous. And you’re… you. Their parents will lock them away in a tower and have you seen me try to do sports, Paul? I can’t climb stuff. And I’d climb towers and shit for Aria, but I am physically unable to.”

I rolled my eyes again so hard I thought they were gonna pop out of my head. “Peter Nolland, you drama queen. I know Hurricane looks the part with that long blonde hair, but she ain’t no Rapunzel. And you, my friend, are no Disney prince.”

He huffed in a half-assed attempt at dignity. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Think of it like this,” I tried to reassure him, though I was in no better shape; while Pete may have been it, I was far from being the kind of guy parents liked. I was the guy parents warned their daughters to stay away from. But I didn’t need to think about that right now. “What’s the best thing that could happen?”

“Her father might not shoot us.”

I slapped the back of his head. Might. Sounded like he didn’t even dare to hope for that much. “Think again. We could sit there like decent people—“

“We’re not decent people, Paul.” I ignored him.

“And we could have decent conversations. They’ll realize I like Dawn and you like Hurricane…”

“Aria. Her parents might know her as Aria. Just sayin’.”

“Right. So they’ll see how much we like them and give us their blessing, admitting we’re the finest young men and the best choices for their daughters to date. Then Dawn and Aria will fall into our arms and maybe you and I, my friend, could get lucky before the night is over.”

“Right,” it was his turn to mumble under his breath. “So this is the part where you tell me the worst part?”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “We get shot.”

“Charming,” he scowled at me and I turned to him, realizing how utterly stupid we looked arguing about this on their porch, where we’d been sitting for 10 minutes already, mustering the courage to walk inside.

“But, Pete, these are extremes, right? What’s most likely to happen?” He blinked and shrugged confused. “It’s most likely gonna be awkward. It took us a while to even win over Dawn and Hurr… Aria. Their parents will be no easy job. But we got this. I mean, the girls stuck with us for this long and I assume the old pals can respect their choices. So yeah, there’s gonna be some hiccups. But the good news is, I hear Mrs. Lovelace makes a mean lasagna.”

Before Pete could reply, the front door opened and we both froze. Mrs. Lovelace was a short round lady with eyes that could kill, one hand on her hip and the other resting against the door. Mr. Lovelace, a bald man with kinder eyes than his wife and the look of ‘I really don’t wanna be here’ plastered on his face, stood behind Mrs. Lovelace, looking like he almost felt sorry for us. Looked like Mrs. Lovelace was more likely to shoot us than her husband. And above all that, Dawn and Hurricane stood a little aside, looking at us horrified. Dawn, wearing the same expression as her mother. Hurricane, wearing an expression like she’d just gotten front seat tickets to a Game of Thrones massacre. Which this was bound to turn into.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for steak tonight,” Mrs. Lovelace crossed her arms over her chest. “My mean lasagna is reserved for special guests only.”

“Mom!” Dawn exclaimed, while Pete and I exchanged a glance and gulped. Silence fell over and I decided it was time to take over, because this was not going well at all. I cleared my throat.

“Mrs. Lovelace,” I tried sweetly. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if we somehow offended you. Here, these are for you, on behalf of me and Pete.”

I handed her the bouquet of flowers that she took from my hand reluctantly, eyeing it like they were carnivorous plants. Which they weren’t. I’d picked them myself, with a bit of Linda’s help. They were white orchids, which were a symbol for some shit Linda had explained to me that I had paid no attention whatsoever to, wrapped with all sorts of colorful paper and ribbons. I’d been assured no woman would be able to resist such a gesture. I was disgusted with myself.

Mrs. Lovelace stepped aside after she took the orchids, and as we walked inside, she caught my sleeve after making sure her daughters and husband weren’t watching.

“Also, my husband doesn’t own guns,” she whispered, all the while keeping a tight smile plastered on her face. “But I can’t vouch for my kitchen knives.”

I gulped and looked alarmed at Pete, just to find him looking back at me just as terrified. So she’d heard. Which brought the question, how much had the Lovelaces heard of our conversation outside? Oh, God That comment about getting lucky. Oh God. I was suddenly started to feel the shadow of Mrs. Lovelace’s kitchen knives between my ribs.

Pete and I stepped forward into the living room, into our most probable doom. All of a sudden, the worst of those possibilities was starting to catch shape. I turned to Dawn, hoping to at least find her smiling a reassuring smile at me, to maybe let me know her parents weren’t as murderous as they looked, but I found Dawn looking at the bouquet in her mom’s hand with horrible panic all across her face.

“Are those orchids?”

 

***

We sat around the table in silence, the cling of forks against the plates being the only sound that filled the thick air. A very red-faced Mrs. Lovelace glared at me from across the table, her red eyes and a runny nose making her breathing pretty difficult. She wheezed every now and then and I flinched every single time. Dawn still hadn’t met my gaze and I was pretty sure Pete would’ve laughed at me for at least a week if he hadn’t been into the same deep shit as me.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lovelace,” I tried again. “I had no idea you were allergic to orchids.”

She shot me a deadly glare that had me gulping and, luckily for me, Dawn’s dad decided to be more civil and offered a tight smile.

“You couldn’t have.”

I nodded awkwardly and tried to catch sight of Dawn, expecting to see her purple with anger, but she just looked uncomfortable. For the first time since we’d sat down at the table, she actually looked up and met my gaze. To my utter shock, she didn’t look pissed. In fact, she looked almost… sorry for me. There was a bit of comfort in that. It must have meant I wasn’t that big of a douche Paul, at least not now. And maybe this time, it was her parents that were giving us a hard time.

Silence fell over again and it was still Mr. Lovelace that cleared his throat and took one for the team.

“So, the girls tell me you boys go to the same university?” he asked, and Pete was more than happy for the change of topic.

“Yes, sir,” he was quick to reply.

“That’s nice,” Mr. Lovelace actually smiled, and for a tiny second, I envied Pete and his ability to make himself loved by parents. “What are you studying?”

He turned to me and I cleared my throat. “Law, sir.”

“And I’m in Computer Sciences,” Pete followed and I saw the Lovelaces nod approvingly.

“A computer nerd,” Hurricane exclaimed and Pete rolled his eyes. “Who would’ve thought, am I right? And here you guys thought I’d come home with a tattooed biker.”

Her parents cracked a small smile at that and I felt things starting to run a little smoother. Maybe we had a shot at this. Maybe, despite the small hiccup we’d had, we could still win them over. I mean, the Paul Rixon charm is not to be underestimated. And we all knew Pete just had his way around parents. And girls. Yeah, it was going well for a change. That is, until Pete went against everything I trusted him with and opened his mouth.

“It’s not too late for that,” he tried a joke. “I mean, I can always get a bike and get myself tattooed at Paul’s parlor.”

It happened in slow motion. Dawn and Hurricane exchanged a glance and froze. I tried glaring a Pete to set him off about the huge fuck-up I’d just witnessed from him, but he seemed entirely oblivious. And Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace looked on the verge of a stroke.

Mr. Lovelace cleared his throat and tried to be civil. “Parlor?”

I tried making signs at Pete to shut him up, but he was just entirely blind. He shoved a piece of food in his mouth and nodded, his eyes wide and joyful. Poor soul.

“Oh, yes. His night job. He’s really nailing this independence thing.”

“At a tattoo parlor,” Mrs. Lovelace whispered. “He’s a tattoo artist?”

Pete frowned. “Yeah?” It came out as a question. Would you look at that. My boy Pete finally figuring out something was wrong. I would’ve smacked the back of this head, hadn’t the situation been so tense. With the corner of my eye, I saw Dawn gulped down her glass of wine. I might have suggested that this was a really bad idea, seeing as things were already going terribly, but on second thought, she looked like she needed it.

Mrs. Lovelace rested her hands on the table, gripping the edge and closed her eyes, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. “The Lord is testing me.”

Dawn rolled her eyes dramatically. “Mom, you’re an atheist.”

“If there were a God, I’m sure this is the way he’d punish me,” the woman retorted and I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “My daughter bringing home a tattooist.”

Dawn gulped down some more wine, looking like she’s just given up on tonight altogether. “You’re the one who asked me to bring him home.”

“Ouch,” I mumbled under my breath, sensing her implication, but everyone ignored me.

“And you,” Mrs. Lovelace turned to Pete, whose eyes widened in terror. I would’ve shot him a look to let him know I pitied him and felt his pain, but he deserved none of that. Not with the way he just made everything worse. “You really expect us to believe Aria actually went bowling?”

“Actually, mom—“ Hurricane tried, but her mom was on a roll.

“That was a big fat lie and everyone around this table knows Aria well enough to see through that.”

“Actually, Mrs. Lovelace—“ Pete tried his luck, too.

“What did you really do? Did you take her to one of those drug parties where everyone is high and groping innocent girls?” She meant a rave and, from what Pete had told me, she didn’t need to know that Hurricane had been the one to drag him to one of those things. “Doing God knows where in dark corners? You could’ve at least picked a better cover.”

“Actually, Mrs. Lovelace,” Pete tried again, and this time it was Hurricane who cut him off.

“Peter, don’t.” To my surprise, Pete ignored her. Guess he was more scared of the Lovelace mom than he was of his own girlfriend. And they were both pretty terrifying. In the distance, Dawn poured herself more wine.

“We did go bowling,” Pete explained. “And karaoke. We were home by midnight, perfectly sober, I promise. I’d never do anything to disrespect your daughter, ma’am. Or you, for that matter. We come into your house with the best of intentions.”

I huffed instinctively and realized what I’d done only when all eyes fell on me. I sunk deeper into my seat, wondering about Mrs. Lovelace’s kitchen knives, but seriously. The best of intentions. No person on this table could ever possibly in good faith believe my intentions were honorable here.

Mrs. Lovelace cleared her throat, dropping it, probably sensing that this whole attack on Pete had turned on her. I was lucky she hadn’t picked me. She didn’t really need to know that I’d spend quite a few nights with her daughter, even if I hadn’t even gotten to second base. Yet.

We spent the rest of the dinner in utter uncomfortable silence. Dawn was on her forth glass of wine. I didn’t have the heart to stop her, partly because I was a bit scared – you never take the wine away from a woman who needs it –, and honestly, partly because I was sure she was gonna put on a show by the end of tonight. And that way, maybe I’d end up blame-free for tonight. Maybe. Unless she’d blame me for her drinking problems, too. Which she totally would.

Eventually, by the time we finished our meal, Mrs. Lovelace cleared her throat and stood up.

“I’ll go get dessert,” she announced, and no longer was she gone that Pete the ultimate suck up stood up, too.

“I’ll go see if she needs any help.”

That left me alone with the girls and their father, uncomfortable as I’d never been before.

“So,” I tried, dragging out the word and leaning back into my chair, looking at Mr. Lovelace. “You don’t happen to have a lighter, do you?”

Dawn groaned and chugged down the wine, pouring herself another one the second it was empty. Mr. Lovelace just glared at me, probably pondering whether he should follow in his wife’s footsteps and make the rest of the dinner a living hell.

“I do not,” he simply replied and I could swear the room had just gotten at least a dozen degrees cooler.

“Alright,” I pursed my lips, standing up as well. “I guess I’ll, umm, go check out on Pete.” Make sure Mrs. Lovelace hadn’t gotten around to hiding his body yet, was what I didn’t say. I couldn’t shake the image of my boy Pete so close to those kitchen knives.

I made my way to the kitchen just in time to overhear Pete being backed into a corner by a very angry Mrs. Lovelace.

“—with your doe eyes and your manners and your compliments. You’re not fooling anyone, boy. I know my Aria. She’s an innocent girl, susceptible to influence.” I nearly snorted at that, but then I remembered they weren’t supposed to know I was here. “You and your tattoo buddy think you can just waltz in and fool my girls, but I am way ahead of you. No one messes with my girls so long as they live under my roof.”

“See, mom, that’s just the thing,” I started when I heard Dawn just at my shoulder, staring intensely at her glass of wine, her lips pursed. When she looked up, I expected her eyes to be cloudy and her words slurred, but when she stared her mother down, she looked more sober than ever. “We don’t live under your roof anymore. Aria and I are grown-ups and we’re perfectly capable of making our own choices. Now back off, please. This momma bear act is ridiculous and I think you’re freaking out the boys.” Then, under her breath, more to herself than to her mom, she said something along the lines of, “And Pete’s the wrong one for the intimidation speech anyway.”

Ouch again. I rolled my eyes and Mrs. Lovelace grabbed the dessert and stormed out of the kitchen, not before shooting me a death glare on her way out. Pete let out a loud breath, wiped some sweat off his forehead and we shared a terrified glance before he followed the girls’ mom. I was about to follow them, too, thinking that most likely Dawn was already there, but when I turned around, she was still there, her glass now empty. This wine situation was getting a little bit disconcerting, but I knew better than to mention it.

“This is absurd,” I whispered, my eyes wide in disbelief.

“I know,” she sighed, closing her eyes and frowning. “I’m so sorry. This whole thing got out of control and I should handle it. They’re usually not like that. I’ll just—“

I huffed and rolled my eyes at her. “What? No. I mean I’m the one who’s absurd tonight. Flowers? Sweet talking? Offering to help? That ain’t me. I was just trying too hard when, truth is, I shouldn’t be trying at all.”

She shot me a confused and concerned glare. “Paul—“

“Look,” I caught her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, but judging by the worry in her eyes, it must not have been the best reassurance. “You and I both know my charm works like a killer on the Lovelace ladies. I mean, Hurricane loves me, you love me.”

She shook her head and widened her eyes at me. “That is not—“

I hurried and placed a finger across her lips, shushing her, and she just stared down at it in disbelief. I shot her a dazzling smile I knew she wasn’t gonna be able to resist. To my surprised, she did. “Dawn. You stick to your wine. Let me do the talking.”

She looked like she had more arguing in her, but I wasn’t backing down from this one. If anyone could make Leslie Lovelace like them, I was your guy for the job. I was a born charmer. I had this. I kissed Dawn’s forehead quickly in an act of impulsiveness and it must have taken her aback enough to let me slide past her and into the dining room. I sank back into my seat, with Dawn on my heels, and I was wearing the best smile I could pull off. It wasn’t returned by a single person at the table, but I was insistent like that.

The big dessert was a chocolate mousse that looked amazing and tasted even better. I moaned around the spoon and turned to Mrs. Lovelace, who looked if not a little outraged at my behavior.

“This is delicious,” I spoke over a mouthful of mousse. “Mrs. Lovelace… Leslie, can I call you Leslie?”

I felt Dawn sinking in her chair, emptying another glass of wine whose count I’d lost. Pete looked at me horrified. Hurricane looked excited, Mr. Lovelace shot me daggers, while Mrs. Lovelace simply blinked, unable to come up with a reaction. Well, that was good. A lack of reaction was better than a negative reaction. It means I was moving forward and there was room for improvement. Sure, nobody at the table seemed to think so, but I was confident. No woman could resist the charms of Paul Dixon. Dawn was living proof of that. If I’d gotten someone as stubborn and infuriating and uptight as Dawn to date me, surely her mom would be no challenge at all, right?

I leaned forward, leaning my chin in my palm. “I have to say, Leslie, I have never been more impressed. You are an inspiration. To raise two daughters as well as you have.” I sighed dreamily. “A mother. A wife. To be able to multitask between raising children and working and being a wife, cooking these delicious dishes and making this house look so cozy and beautiful… All the while managing to look gorgeous. Like it’s all so effortlessly. How do you do it?”

All eyes were on me, each more shocked than the other. Guess I had their attention. They must have been really impressed with my act and my smoothness. Oh, and I was just getting warmed up. With a tight smile and an expression I hoped was filled with awe, I placed my hand over Mrs. Lovelace’s hand resting inches from mine. Someone gasped in the distance. Oh, I was on a roll.

“Leslie,” I whispered for effect. “I want you to know you make me feel like… There is hope. That a man can accomplish anything as long as he has a good woman by his side. I think—“

“Young man,” I heard Mr. Lovelace’s voice drop an octave and instantly moved my hand away from his wife. “I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.” He looked between his daughters, his face hard, and I gulped, my hand glued to the table. Maybe this hadn’t been going as smooth as I thought it had. “I don’t know what game you two girls think you’re playing on me. But the girls I’ve raised would’ve never brought such jokes under my roof.”

Dawn and even Hurricane looked down in shame and Pete, confused, opened his mouth to defend us – or himself. Truth be told, he’d been a gentleman all night, which was more that I could say for myself. I couldn’t see why he’d been bullied even worse than me. But I didn’t have time to worry about all that, because before I could process what was going on, Mrs. Lovelace moved in the blink of an eye.

I heard the thud of the knife before I saw it. And when I did see it, I noticed its tip was stuck in the table, right between my third and fourth finger. I gulped audibly. This was quickly turning into one of those movies I knew all too well. This could go three ways. Ninjas, porn or murder. I couldn’t tell which one was more disturbing.

Mrs. Lovelace leaned forward, her hand still on the grip of the knife. So murder it is.

“You thought I was kidding about those knives, son?” she whispered. “I’m a professional chef. I can cut you into tiny pieces, and at the moment, I just might. You dare flaunt yourself at my daughter’s arm like you’re somehow good enough for her. Like you’re God-given and granting her the privilege of being near you. On top of that, I invite you into my house and you have the audacity to make a move on me, her mother?”

My eyes widened in shock. I made a quick recap of our conversation earlier and, on second thought, I could see why she’d jump to that conclusion.

“No, Mrs. Lovelace, I wasn’t—“

“Oh, it’s Mrs. Lovelace now?” she raised her voice, and I felt Dawn flinch by my side.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I heard her whisper under her breath, but no one paid attention to her.

“What happened to first name basis? Listen to me, you little prick. I don’t know what Dawn thinks she sees in you.”

“Mom—“

“Maybe she’s blinded by you. Maybe she’s in love and can’t see clearly. But I see you, young man, for what you are. And that is wrong for my daughter. Now get the hell out of my house.”

“Mom, I’m not feeling—“

Before I could react in any way, Dawn just had to have the last word on it. She leaned forward and barfed right on the carpet. All the red wine she’d had tonight, and it had been a lot.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath and hurried by her side to hold her hair or help her up, anything, but her mother beat me to it. She squeezed Dawn’s shoulders and held up a hand in front of me.

“Don’t,” she said almost threateningly. “I got her. Just go.”

“But, ma’am—“

“I said go. You’re not needed here.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to push the old hag away and get Dawn out of her claws, because she clearly wasn’t feeling too well. She was pale and disoriented and most likely bound to spend her night kneeling over the toilet and throwing up her guts. But then I remembered. The old hag was her mom. And as much as my instincts urged me on to fight, I knew Dawn would be pretty disappointed already by how this whole dinner had turned out to be. She didn’t need me adding another reason to that already long list. She didn’t need me at all, like her mom had so gladly pointed out.

So with one last look at Dawn, I turned on my heels and walked out.

~SOUNDTRACK: Joel Adams – Please don’t go~

The cold air hit me as I paced back and forth on the porch and Pete followed me not one minute later, Hurricane on his heels. They wore expressions like they were just on their way to my funeral. Which, given the fact that I’d just almost gotten myself killed by momma ninja master chef, might have been a possibility.

Pete sighed at my sight. “You fucked up, dude.”

I rolled my eyes at his opening. “Way to be blunt, dude.”

“They’re pretty mad, Paul,” even Hurricane sided with him, making my eyebrows rise in surprise. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I always love a good show. And I expected tonight to be a good show. But they’re pretty mad. Dawn is gonna have it bad when she wakes up.”

“We’re perfectly—“

“Yes, yes, capable to make your own choices,” she waved me off. “You’re old enough so that they can’t pull off a Middle Ages scheme and forbid you to see her. But is that the way you want this to go, Paul? As much as I like you and as much as I like Dawn with you, I think she deserves better than this crap. So you figure it out, dude. I’m my mother’s daughter after all and I’ll come for you if this shit ever happens again.”

I dropped my gaze. Somehow, it stung more coming from Hurricane. I looked up at Pete for help, but he seemed just as disappointed. After all, I’d dragged him into this mess. He may have actually made a good impression on Hurricane’s parents hadn’t it been for, well, me.

“You fucked up, dude,” he repeated and I pursed my lips. Guilt crept in, and I knew better that to listen to that. I was gonna fix this, too. For now, there was only one thing I cared about.

“How’s Dawn?” I asked.

“Puking like there’s no tomorrow,” Hurricane replied. “Mom’s holding up her hair and shit like that. You go home and I’ll tell her to text you tomorrow when she’s coherent enough.”

“Not a chance in hell,” I sat down on the bench on their porch. “I’m not leaving until I know she’s fine or I can talk to her. I can’t just walk away like this.”

Hurricane tilted her head and fake pouted. “Scared you might hurt her feelings?”

Yeah. “No. I just don’t want her to think your crazy mom scared me off. She has to know the things I go through for her.”

Hurricane rolled her eyes, but I suspected she saw through my sarcasm straight to the source. She turned to Pete, who was standing there wide eyed like a puppy, waiting for his good night kiss. Hurricane just snorted and walked inside without another word. Pete just blinked and turned to me, sighing.

“You fucked up, dude.”

I groaned and flipped him off. “You know, Nolland, not everything that’s happened tonight is my fault.”

“Oh, I know,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, starting to walk away already. “But blaming you comes natural these days.”

I rolled my eyes as he left without saying anything else. It bothered me more than it should have how I was tonight’s black sheep. I mean, granted, it hadn’t been one of my best night, but not one of my worst, either. It bothered me that it bothered me that I hadn’t been able to make a good impression on Dawn’s parents. It was something that was important to her and I’d screwed it up. And I couldn’t help but remember her mom’s words.

But I see you for what you are. And that is wrong for my daughter.

You’re not needed here.

And even Hurricane.

I think she deserves better than this crap.

For the first time ever, it all made me question whether I was really bad for Dawn. I guess it’s a good thing I was selfish enough to stick around despite that.

 

***

I sat on that porch for at least two hours. So much for my big speech about how Pete was an idiot for freezing himself to death for a girl. But at this point, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave. There could be two reasons why Dawn hadn’t come down yet. She was either still really sick or really mad. And I couldn’t leave it like that with any of those reasons.

After two hours, the front door opened. I stood up abruptly, waiting to see Dawn, and my shoulders dropped when her father came out. Hank Lovelace had his hands in his pockets and his lips pursed, looking at me like I was a dog he’d kicked a little too hard under the table.

“I saw you from the window,” he started. “Figured you’d already left.”

I cleared my throat before speaking, finding it uncomfortably dry. “No, sir. I wanna see Dawn first, if that’s okay. How is she?”

“Resting,” he replied simply. “Leslie’s with her, guarding her like a wolf. I think she’s worried you might kidnap her in her sleep.”

I barked a humorless laughter. “Can’t say I haven’t considered it, sir.”

He let out a laugh, too, but grew serious quickly. “Why are you still here, son?”

I shook my head, throwing my hands up. “I told you. For Dawn.”

“No, Paul,” he spoke slowly, as if I were a kid who was having trouble understanding. “Why were you here tonight in the first place? You don’t strike me as the kind of man who’d sit through dinner with a girl’s parents. You don’t strike me as the kind of man girls take home to introduce to their parents.”

“I’m not,” I admitted. Maybe because I wanted to do one thing right tonight, though that was unlikely; I was never one for right things. Or maybe because I had some sort of odd respect for Mr. Lovelace because he’d been nice enough to grant me the same respect though I’d done nothing to earn it.

“Which brings us to our question.”

I sighed. “Look, Mr. Lovelace. I’m not gonna lie to you. Half the time I’m with Dawn, I have no idea why I do half the things I do. The other half I pretend I understand. I don’t know what this is or where it’s going. So maybe I am wrong for her and maybe she doesn’t need me. But I think that’s supposed to be her choice.”

He stood there pensively, watching me closely. By the time he spoke, I was already feeling uncomfortable.

“What about your choice?”

I almost flinched at the question. Forced to face the question directly, I had no choice but to look for that answer. I hadn’t asked myself that just yet. I’d just gone with the flow so far and had trusted I’d end up where I wanted to, but clearly, my system was flawed. But really, ever since that night and that red dress, there hadn’t been much of a choice at all.

“I’ve made my choice,” I replied, feeling a little lighter with the admission. “Dawn is important to me. I don’t know why. Hell, I don’t know how, but she’s under my skin and she’s not going anywhere. And neither am I. If I have to wait all night out here, I will. Pass that on to your wife. If we’re wrong for each other, I’m counting on that saying that two wrongs make a right.”

Mr. Lovelace simply nodded. He smiled slightly and looked like he wanted to say something, when the door opened. And out came Dawn, pale and sleepy and dizzy, a fuzzy pink blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

~SOUNDTRACK: Natalie Taylor – Surrender~

If I fall in love in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it.

My own words were catching up with me. I liked Dawn in a sexy red dress, with her hair down. And I liked her sleepy and half-drunk and in a pink blanket. I liked all of her and I allowed myself to surrender to that knowledge, allowed it to swallow me whole.

“Hey, kiddo,” her dad turned around to her. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I will, in a minute.”

Her dad nodded, understanding the implication. He squeezed her shoulder and walked past her, not before shooting me a small smile. It felt like approval. I don’t know why it mattered to me, I tried to tell myself it didn’t, but I did feel a small pang of pride.

Dawn sat down next to me and offered me a part of her pink blanket. I nearly laughed at her for ever thinking Paul Rixon would cuddle her under a pink blanket, but she looked so serious and vulnerable and, truth be told, I was freezing. So I put my arm around her and pulled her close, wrapping the pink blanket around us. She rested her head on my shoulder and I released a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. We sat in silence, enjoying the quiet moment and the fresh winter air for a few minutes before something occurred to me. I pulled away and searched her face.

“How much of that did you hear?”

She leaned back and smiled wickedly at me. “Enough.”

I groaned, but said nothing. Maybe if I ignored it, she wasn’t gonna mention it. Besides, I thought as my body tensed, there was something I had to say first.

“Look, Dawn, I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “What for?”

“Everything. You wanted a nice dinner and a nice boyfriend to introduce to your nice parents. I’m afraid I didn’t fit into that picture. So I’m sorry if I ruined it for you. I’m not very good at this relationship or human decency thing.”

“Don’t be stupid, Paul,” she nudged my side.

“Oh, gee, I feel so loved.”

She ignored my sarcasm. “I know what I got myself into. I never expected you to play the nice boyfriend. And my parents weren’t particularly nice either tonight. So if anyone should be sorry, that’s me. I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. Other than Aaron, my parents never saw me with someone, so I should’ve known they’d act all overprotective.”

I smirked happily and she frowned at my expression.

“You said boyfriend,” I snickered like a little kid. “Does that mean you’re ready to acknowledge the nature of our relationship?”

She rolled her eyes, but hid her face in the crook of my neck nonetheless to hide her smile.

“Might as well have. Can’t keep denying it to no end, can I?”

“I guess there’s no way out, then,” I replied and kissed the top of her head.

“Guess not. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

I smiled. And I breathed her in like the pathetic little wuss I was. But she smelled like lilac and vanilla and like herself, and I realized all the clichés are no clichés at all. They’re all true. You feel yourself falling hopelessly and irretrievably. You can tell apart her voice, her smell, her skin, her taste. And you start to shape yourself so that you can fit into the small portion between those lazy eyelashes fighting to stay awake. I was so lame and I loved every minute of it. I’d never understood what they meant when they said some things are beyond your control. I thought it was bullshit. Just because you give in and give up control didn’t mean it escaped your control by itself. I thought people could hold on to control if they chose to.

And then I met her.

“So when’s my turn?” she snuggled into my side.

“Huh?”

“To embarrass myself in front of your parents,” she explained and I froze. She must have sensed it because she pulled back and searched my face. By the concerned look in her eyes, she must have found some clues there. “I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve?”

Yes. No. I hadn’t told Dawn anything about my family yet. In fact, I realized I’d never told anyone the story. Lily, Ross, Pete, they’d all been there at the time. But I’d never had to share it with someone willingly. I wasn’t sure I could with Dawn. It was a part of me I liked better hidden.

“Hey,” she cupped my cheek and locked my eyes with her. “It’s okay.”

I believed her.

“Is it?” I asked . Maybe I just felt this thing we had was just really fragile. And it took me aback how much I didn’t want to screw this up and lose her. I was afraid my tragic backstory would somehow push her away.

“Yeah,” she smiled at me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Now or anytime. Whenever you’re ready.”

I forced a tight smile and leaned down to kiss her.

In hindsight, that was the first time I wanted to tell her I loved her.

 

21: Chapter 19: Blue Christmas

CHAPTER 19 – BLUE CHRISTMAS

~SOUNDTRACK: Echosmith – Tell her you love her~

~Dawn’s POV, December 24^th, 2016~

It was Christmas Eve. My first Christmas Eve with Paul. Not that I was delusional enough to hope we could make it to New Year’s, let alone next Christmas, but hey, they say Christmas is a time for miracle.

Besides, I smiled to myself, Paul made me happy. Really happy. The past six months had been surely eventful and the road had been long and hard – I cursed the ‘that’s what she said’ joke popping into my head as a special greeting from spending too much time with Paul and Aria lately – but we’d made it to here and I was happy. At times. At other times, I was surprised I’d made it this far without clawing his eyes out.

It was pretty early, but I’d risen early today. I’d made my dorm room look presentable and festive with some decorations as I waited for Paul. I was supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight, like we did on every Christmas Eve – and I didn’t have the courage to bring Paul again after last time’s disaster, at least not yet, since I didn’t trust Christmas miracles extended to my mom, – but Paul and I had agreed to at least spend the day together.

It was around 11 when he knocked on my door and I rolled my eyes at the way my stupid heart skipped a small beat. I mean, weren’t we used to this already? I opened the door and found a snow covered, red-nosed Paul standing in my doorway, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Because I didn’t want it to go to his head, seeing how excited I was to see him, I bit my lip against the smile threatening to take over my whole expression and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t see a present,” I scolded him and he just smirked that infuriating half smirk of his that, all of a sudden lately, didn’t piss me off so much. Instead, it made something inside my heart explode.

He moved past me inside the room while replying. “I thought we agreed we weren’t gonna do the whole presents thing.”

I closed the door, rolling my eyes at him. “But you and I both know that’s girlfriend code for ‘you’d better get me a present cause I am’.”

He started walking towards me sly as a cat, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close, making it hard for me to keep that straight face. “You’re starting to throw that girlfriend card around a lot lately. Could it be you’re actually starting to actually enjoy the perks of dating douche Paul?”

I punched his shoulder lightly. “Could it be you’re changing the subject?”

“Could it be so are you?” he tried, but I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Paul Rixon. You better hide a present in those pockets of yours or I’m returning mine.”

He grinned like a kid. “You got me a present. What is it?”

I sighed and glared at him. How did I always end up losing every argument with him? You’d think reason could win from time to time against teases and smoldering eyes and bad jokes. It never did. Paul Rixon refused to acknowledge reason. But then again, how was I any better? I was, after all, dating him, against all reason.

I unclasped myself from his arms and stepped backwards, feeling suddenly self-conscious about my gift. I scratched the back of my neck, smiling shyly up at him.

“So, umm, this was a brain wrecker,” I started explaining. “I asked myself, what does Paul Rixon really, really, really likes? It was a long list.” I raised a finger, starting to count. “Cars.”

“Tattoos,” he completed.

“Boobs.”

“You.”

I smiled at blushed for how he’d blurted that out, looking like he didn’t even acknowledge it. So I brushed it off, because we were still early in our relationship and talking about feelings wasn’t due yet. Besides, it wasn’t even a big deal. Surely Paul liked me. He had stalked me for six months and had been relentless in his efforts to get in my pants. But there was something about the way he’d shrugged and tilted his head, looking at me and smiling sweetly that made me lose focus there for a minute.

“Right,” I snapped out of it. “But anyway, I thought it through and I think I figured it out. Here.”

I handed him the wrapped gift and he stared at it a little concerned. Well, he was entitled to. It looked like a book. And we all knew how Paul felt about books.

“Did you get me a book?” he raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes.

“Just open it, Paul.”

With another skeptical glance my way, he tore up the paper and pursed his lips, holding up an actual book.

“Would you look at that,” he mocked. “It is a book.”

“No, it’s not a book, Paul. It’s a notebook.”

He blinked at me. “Has the word book in it.”

“It’s a metaphor,” I tried to explain, but he just scoffed a little.

“Easy there, John Green.”

I glared. “You said you don’t have a bucket list. That’s what the notebook is for. You and I are gonna work on a bucket list for you. See, my gift is meaningful.”

He turned the notebook in his hand, frowning at it, then tried a smile that came out as more of a grimace. “Cool. I, uh, look forward to working on that.”

My face fell. “You don’t like it.”

His eyes widened and he hurried to my side, rubbing my shoulders and trying hard to look excited. “No, no, I love it, I promise!”

“Liar,” I pouted. “You don’t like my metaphors.”

“Are you kidding me?” he huffed, almost insulted by my assumption and made his way to my desk, picking up a pen. “Look, I’ll prove how much I love it. I love it so much I can’t even wait to get started. So, buckets list. Let’s see. Number one. I wanna—“

He trailed off and I bit my lip against a smile. I made my way to him and glimpsed over his shoulder. Just like I thought. He’d opened the notebook and flipped through the pages just to find the real present I’d hidden there. It was nice to see I could catch cool prankster Paul off guard.

“Are these… Are these plane tickets?” he held them up, frowning up at me, and I tried not to giggle and jump up and down like a kid.

“Yes. Yes they are. It’s still a metaphor though.”

He frowned. “Seattle? What’s in Seattle?”

“Your gift,” I explained proudly. “You told me how much you wanted to go a Star Wars comic-con so I had an old high school friend pull some strings for me. Guess who’s gonna meet Harrison Ford.”

He jumped to his feet, eyes wide and lips parted. I don’t think I’d ever felt this kind of satisfaction from giving someone a present. He was like a little boy who’d just been told Superman was gonna take him for a ride. I always knew Paul was a nerd at heart, but that suddenly seemed like an understatement.

“You got me comic-con tickets to Star Wars?” he shrieked. “To meet Harrison Ford?”

I nodded excitedly and he picked me up, spinning me around. I giggled like a little girl, thinking how unlike me I sounded, but that was good, too. I was happy. And I was happy I’d made Paul happy.

“Oh my God,” he put me down, still shaking his head incredulously. “You are something else, Dawn Lovelace. You’re the best.”

“I know,” I smiled smugly, lacing my arms around his neck. “You didn’t think I’d actually bought you a silly notebook or a book, did you?”

He closed one eye, tilting his head to one side. “Well,” he extended the vowel. “I can never tell with you.”

I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t push it, Paul. Now back to business. You’d better have a killer present for me. Though I’m pretty sure you can’t top that.”

“Cocky is a great look on you,” he mocked. “But I’m pretty sure mine’s better. The only problem is, I gotta take off my clothes first.”

I scoffed and pushed him away. “Paul! We talked about this. Sex does not count as a Christmas present. It’s a holy day, you perv.”

He laughed whole-heartedly. “First of all, you haven’t even seen me without clothes yet. This body is all that’s holy here, is all I’m saying. Secondly, sex is always a good present. And thirdly, however, that was not what I was talking about.” I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to continue. “I was talking about my real gift. Which is, if I may remove my shirt, a tattoo of your name resting right above my heart.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. I let my arms drop and blinked one more time, trying to process.

“You did not,” I whispered. “You did not tattoo my name on your chest.”

He nodded forcefully. “Sure did. I mean, if things go sideways, I’m lucky I can play it off as the actual dawn. People have been inspired by stranger things, am I right?”

“Paul,” I shook my head, still too shocked. “Tell me you did not tattoo my name on your chest.”

He stared me down for a second. Then two. Three. He pursed his lips. Then he burst into obnoxious laughter. I released a breath, not knowing whether I should feel relieved or give in to the urge to punch him for the cruel joke.

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But you had it coming for your metaphor notebook.”

I glared, but smiled nonetheless. Well, I guess we were even now. At least in a way. Because I couldn’t help but notice I was still without a gift. Paul closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around my waist once more, pulling me close. I let him, because I’d given up resisting him long ago. I simply didn’t have any more energy to keep resisting.

“My gift is a little more elaborate,” he explained, kissing the tip of my nose.

“Is that code for ‘I didn’t have time to buy you one so I hope I’ll get away with buying some random book on sale’?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, a move that somehow reminded me of Pete. I suddenly had a huge respect for Aria for putting up with that. And a lot of respect for Pete for getting Aria to put up with him. Aria wasn’t the kind of girl who put up with stuff. Their relationship was the biggest mystery as far as I was concerned. But then again, I looked at the dork in whose arms I was wrapped. And I told myself there were greater mysteries than that.

“Dimples, if I hadn’t had time to buy you a present, I would’ve said so. And I’d never buy you something cheap or on sale. Come on. You deserve the very best. And while some may argue that I’m already the best you could get,” it was my turn to roll my eyes dramatically, “I can and I will spoil you. Which is why, today we’ll go out to lunch, maybe catch a movie and make out in public and embarrass people. And in a few days, you’ll get your present, too. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

I frowned and bit my lip. I had to admit, he sold a good deal. Maybe it was just his lawyer side, but he had me fooled. I sighed and gave in.

“Fine. Lunch, movie, whatever you want.”

“Making out in public under scrutinizing glares from strangers,” he reminded and I scoffed.

“Sure, that. But I gotta be home by 8. Christmas dinner with your greatest fans. The Lovelace elders.”

He chuckled and I held back a relieved sigh. I was glad we could put that whole disaster dinner behind us. When our parents had demanded that Aria and I asked Paul and Pete to dinner, we’d expected the worst. I dared to say that had exceeded our expectations. Paul had tried really hard, and I was proud of him for that. If I’d had any doubts, now I knew for a fact he cared about me. In his own little twisted way that made me question my own sanity from time to time. I didn’t know what made me so lucky, but out of all the girls in whose lives he’d been a passenger, he’d decided to stay in mine. He tried hard, but so did I. Whatever he saw in me that he thought made me special, I wanted to keep delivering it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he fake-saluted. Dork. “Home by 8. Copy that.”

“Dork,” I told him out loud, because it just had to be acknowledged. “So what plans do you have for Christmas? No family dinner for you?”

His face fell, and I suddenly felt hollow inside my chest at seeing that expression on his face. So I’d struck a nerve. I remembered this exact same face from the dinner night, when I’d asked about his parents. I was afraid to push him, but at the same time, I couldn’t stand seeing that painful look in his eyes like there was a deep, dark side of him that was out of my reach. Out of my ability to fix it.

Whenever you’re ready.

The words hung between us. A promise, an ultimatum, an understanding. A way out. Ultimately, a ball in his court.

“No,” he forced a smile that he didn’t seem to believe himself. “I’ll just spend it with Pete, like we do every year. His folks are always outta town with business, so he’s always alone. I’ll keep the poor bastard company and maybe braid our hair while we gossip about how lucky we are to have you and Hurricane, how we’re gonna name our babies, how soft your skin is, stuff like that, you know. Totally manly.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then you’re at least off from all the family drama.”

His face darkened even more and I regretted the words almost instantly. It frustrated me, how he kept me at arm’s length about this. It seemed like the whole topic of family was off limits for him.

“Hey,” I cupped his cheeks in my palm, hating that I couldn’t break through to him to break whatever chains shackled the words and strangled them and killed them in his throat. “Whenever you’re ready, remember? I’m sorry I brought it up. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I tried a reassuring smile and let go of his cheeks, catching his hand and intertwining my fingers with his. “Now come on. I’m starving and I believe you promised lunch.”

I started walking away, trying to drag him with me, but his hand let go of mine and caught my wrist, stopping me into place.

“No,” he whispered, without meeting my gaze. “No, it’s okay. You wanted to know about my family.”

“Paul,” I tried, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment and shame and guilt. “Really, it’s fine, we don’t have to—“

“Whenever I’m ready, right?” he cut me off. “I’m ready. And it’s about times you met my folks.”

He tried to put on a smile, but whatever he was trying to sell me, I wasn’t buying it. That wasn’t Paul’s real smile. This one creeped me out.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Ryan Adams – This love~

Paul stopped the car and I shifted in my seat. I couldn’t see for sure because of how he’d parked, but I kind of knew what part of the city we were in, and those suspicions made my blood run cold. The snow fell lazily and Paul would not meet my gaze.

“Paul, where are we?” I tried to ask in a small voice. “I thought we were going to meet your parents.”

He looked straight forward for a second. Then two. Then he looked my way quickly for maybe half a second before replying.

“We are,” he blurted out, then got out of the car without another word.

I sighed and got out of the car, too, following him. He was walking fast and wasn’t looking back and I tried to keep up with him. Snow covered him like a thin sheet, keeping him away from me. We walked for a while and he kept his distance, but his shoulders were tense. Eventually, we made it to where we were supposed to get. My heart sunk. The word ‘cemetery’ hovered above me, taunting me, almost punishing me for daring to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. I wanted to catch Paul’s shoulders and shake him. Beg a reaction out of him. Tell him I was sorry for making him bring me here. Tell him I understood our ‘whenever you’re ready’ didn’t apply to this, because there’s no way someone would just be ready to face this time and again.

But instead, we kept going.

“Paul—“ I tried, but he cut me off. All for the best, I guess. I don’t know what I would’ve told him anyway.

“We’re almost there,” he said, and we just kept going.

It seemed like forever. Like we were walking through never-ending tomb stones, like I’d doomed myself to just endlessly watch Paul’s back, knowing it was my fault for putting him through this. But it didn’t last forever. The cold air around us was only caused by winter. The silence wasn’t heavy or tense, it was just due to a lack of words that held no power to make this better. And when Paul finally stopped and turned around to face me, his face wasn’t angry, he wasn’t blaming me. He was just sad and hurting. And as my eyes fell to the tomb stone behind him, I understood why.

Theresa Rixon, 1972-2005, beloved mother

Benjamin Rixon, 1967-2005, beloved father

I drew in a shaky breath. I looked at Paul and the expression on his face threw me off for a minute. He just stared me down, as if he were hoping to freak me out.

“There you go,” he said almost sharply. “You wanted to meet my folks. Here they are. Here they’ve been for quite a while, actually.”

I raised my chin. I would not give him the satisfaction. He looked at me like he just kept expecting me to turn on my heels and run for the hills. But instead, this time I was the one who stared him down before walking past him until I stood right in front of the tomb stone. I felt him shift behind me, but I paid no attention to him. I crouched and smiled, hoping Theresa and Benjamin Rixon could see me from wherever they were.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rixon,” I started talking. “My name is Dawn. Dawn Lovelace. I’m Paul’s girlfriend. I know, I can’t believe it either. I hope I’ll make a better impression on you that Paul did on my parents.” I heard him let out a breathless laugh and I gained a little more courage to go on. “You should be proud of him. Actually, I’m sure you are. I know I am. It took him a while, but he was relentless in his efforts to get me. And he did get me. Beats me how he managed that, but he did. And whatever I can hold against him, one thing I can’t is his passion and his determination. He’s nothing like the douche Paul I thought him to be when we first met. He is a lot to handle, but nothing worth ever comes easy. Your son has made me feel things I didn’t know were possible to be felt without your heart exploding. And I intend to keep him around. If only because I don’t know if I’m ever gonna feel that way again. So don’t worry. He’s in good hands. I’ll take care of him for you and keep him in line, ‘cause God knows he needs it. And I trust he’ll take care of me, too. I know he will.”

I spent half an hour there, in the snow, telling Paul’s parents the story of how we’d met. The stadium on the 4^th of July. The tattoo. The races. The afternoons at the library, the lattes, the books he’d bought, Samantha, the drawing I still kept tucked somewhere safe, in a book on my shelf. I told them about the coffee at midnight, about the dates and Drops of Jupiter, about the red dress, about the sunrise and about the planetarium. About Aria and Pete. About the dinner with my parents. And I finished by telling them how lucky I was to have Paul in my life, so long as I resisted the urge to gauge his eyes out that I got half the time we were together.

Then I stood up, wiping away the tears from my face that I hadn’t even noticed. I found Paul looking at me with an eerie look in his eyes, like nothing I’d ever seen on him. I couldn’t place it, but I knew he didn’t look as sad as before. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to come up with an explanation and never quite reaching it. I searched his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I reminded him and he offered a small smile.

“They died 12 years ago,” he started in a small voice. “We were going on vacation. My dad was driving and we were singing this… Silly song, I don’t even remember. We always sang when we went on road trips. My parents were dorky like that.” The ghost of a smile crossed his features. “Then it’s the same kind of story you see on the news every day. Drunk driver, my dad tried to avoid him, next thing I knew, the car wrapped around a tree on the side of the row. It was—“ he drew in a shaky breath, “it was pretty bad. Mom wasn’t wearing her seat belt and she was thrown through the wind shield, dead on the spot. I banged my head pretty hard, but when I came to my senses, all I could hear was my dad wheezing. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get that sound out of my head. The doctors said the airbag broke his ribs and one of them perforated one of his lungs. And all the while, until he gave his last breath, he talked me through it. He told me not to worry. He gave me all that crap about going to a better place. He told me to be brave and, you know, I idolized my father. I kept strong and held it together until he just stopped talking mid-sentence and all I could see where his dead empty eyes staring at me in the rearview mirror. Then I let go and cried until I passed out and the police found us. I woke up in the hospital later, my father’s words still ringing in my ears. I had to be strong and hold it together. I never cried a single tear ever since.”

“God, Paul, I—“

“My mom’s sister took me in,” he interrupted me, looking like he’d forgotten I was even there. “Lily Anderson, Ross Anderson’s wife. She and Ross took care of me like I was their own kid. And I… I made some wrong choices. Gave them one too many headaches and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I didn’t know how to grieve. No one ever teaches you that. I went off and did stupid shit because I didn’t care anymore. When you’re suddenly without parents, you figure no one’s ever gonna bug you again about not doing drugs or being nice to old ladies or chewing with your mouth shut. Aunt Lily tried and I was a jerk to her. But I’m working on that. After all these years, I still am. Because hearing you now, it occurred to me that my mom wouldn’t exactly be as proud of me as you just said she’d be.”

“She would,” it was my turn to interrupt. “People hurt in their own ways. You can’t be held accountable for that. And if she could see you here right now, with me, I know she would, Paul. I meant every word I said. Whatever mistakes you’ve made or wrong choices, none of those make you the bad guy you so badly want to be. Because I’ve seen through you.” I rested my hand on his chest and he caught it with his, trapping it so that I felt every beat of his heart against my palm. “If I could admit I was wrong about you, give yourself the benefit of the doubt, too.”

He smiled at me sweetly. “You know, I’ve never told this to anyone. The only people who know about it are Pete and uncle Ross and aunt Lily, because they were there through the worst and made sure to see me make it out of that. But I’ve never had to say it out loud or to tell it to anyone else.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I just think it’s disconcerting. One second you’re here, and the next one you’re gone. It’s over before you even know it. We’re stupidly fragile. You’re outta here in the blink of an eye and eventually no one talks about you and everyone forgets you. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to live my life knowing this much.”

I caught his hand again and gave it another squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

He huffed a small laugh and squeezed my hand back. “Thanks, Dimples.”

I slid my arms around his waist and hugged him and he was quick to return it, burying his face in my hair. I let it down more and more often these days. Somehow, knowing how much he loved it, I just couldn’t bring myself to put it up in the morning.

“But there’s no need for us to think about that,” I whispered in his shoulder. “You’re gonna be around to bug me for a long time. And if I ever felt like I’d be on the verge of forgetting you, I’d just have someone tattoo your initials on my arm.”

This time, he laughed whole-heartedly. “That’s my signature move, so don’t even think about it.” He pulled back, more serious this time, and he kissed my forehead. “Merry Christmas, babe. Thank you.”

I knew what he was thanking me for, but it still felt absurd. When someone cuts open their chest and offers you a piece of their heart, you don’t thank them for taking it. If anything, I should’ve thanked him for giving it to me. But we’d had enough heart-felt moments for today, so I chose to just scoff and roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that in front of your mother,” I scolded. “In fact, don’t call me that at all.” He chuckled and I kissed his cheek quickly before walking away. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take your time.”

Ten minutes later, Paul returned to the car with his eyes red, but his shoulders a little lighter.

22: Chapter 20: My Versaille at night

CHAPTER 20 – MY VERSAILLE AT NIGHT

~SOUNDTRACK: Adele – Water under the bridge~

~December 31^st, 2016, Paul’s POV~

“Bungee jumping,” she kept trying to guess, and I scoffed.

“Would you be down for that?”

She pretended to think for a moment. “Let’s pretend for Aria’s sake that I would, because she’d kill me if I said otherwise. Is that it?”

“No.”

“Mexico.”

“No.”

She let out a small gasp and turned to me with her eyes shining. “Paris.”

I laughed. “No, but duly noted for next time.”

She pretended to pout and sink in her seat for a second and I almost felt bad for not coming up with that Paris idea earlier. Almost. Because I was pretty sure my idea still beat that.

“Besides,” I tried to make her feel better. “I thought you had a thing for Venice.”

“I do, but every girl dreams of a romantic getaway to Paris.”

I pursed my lips. “Again, duly noted.”

My Jaguar fled down the highway and Dawn had given up long ago freaking out about how fast I was going, seeing as I’d made a fine point about how a Jaguar was not meant to be driven within the speed limit. I’d used words as mortal sin, capital crime and offense to the almighty God. I thought she’d been pretty convinced.

It was dark outside, because my plan was to arrive there at nighttime, and hopefully just in time for midnight, so that 2017 could find her happy, in awe and in so much love with me she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Hey, I was an overachiever when I wanted to. The highway was pretty empty, and the starry sky glinting upon the snow gave it a dreamy allure that I could tell entranced Dawn. Her eyes were all sparkly and there was that subtle smile on her face, not quite a full smile, but enough to make those dimples I was crazy about make an appearance. I’d always loved driving at night, but with her in the passenger seat, it just caught a whole new charm I was slowly getting drunk on and couldn’t get enough of.

Still pouting about my silence as to where we were going, she turned on the radio and crossed her arms over her chest, looking out the window and purposefully ignoring me. I almost laughed at how childish she could be sometimes. It occurred to me I kept pissing her off on purpose just because she looked so adorable when she was angry. I loved pushing her buttons, and it was really ridiculously easy. It gave our relationship an addictive spark and though I knew she could hardly stand it, she enjoyed it, too.

The song was something slow, with a subtle electric guitar in the background, that suited perfectly the mood for late night driving. It only added to the magic. And eventually, even Dawn forgot that she was supposed to be mad at me and started slowly humming to the lyrics. She was so off tune it was almost cute, if I hadn’t felt the urge to cringe. But I let her sing until the song was finished, and then to the next one and the next one, for over 20 minutes. Not speaking a word, just listening to her sing off key with her eyes closed every now and then, looking lost within herself and within the music and within the night. I’d never been crazier about anyone in my whole life.

I let her sing on and on until I didn’t even notice how much she sucked. I just drove on with her voice as a soundtrack singing to some flavorless Adele song. This was nothing like the music I listened to, but it gave me enough insight to a part of her I didn’t know yet. The music a person listens to or sings in the car to can tell you so many things, and it just shaped better the picture of Dawn in the back of my mind. Eventually, she stopped singing and I turned my head to watch her just watching me curiously, biting her lip slightly.

“What?” I frowned, and she shook her head a little.

“It’s okay, you can say it. I know I can’t sing for the life of me.”

She couldn’t, but I just shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

She rolled her eyes in disbelief at me. “Sure you don’t. You’d be the first one.”

“Well, that’s because I’m in love with you, so I might be a little biased,” I blurted out.

And all off a sudden, I felt as if the highway disappeared from under the car. My eyes widened, but I couldn’t look sideways to catch her reaction. What the hell had I just said? It was like the words had dug up their way and fled from out of my mouth without a single connection to my brain.

I cleared my throat and hoped I could let it slide for now. ‘Whenever you’re ready’ was becoming an anthem for us, but I didn’t feel like it applied to talking about our feelings and shit. I didn’t know about Dawn, but I was definitely not ready. No guy ever is.

Luckily for me, coming to my saving at the right time, I drove the car right past the sign that announced us we were in Browning, Montana. I smiled widely, trying hard not to acknowledge what I’d just blurted out and trying even harder not to read too much into Dawn’s facial expressions.

“We’re here,” I announced and she frowned, looking out the window.

“Where’s here?” she asked. “We’re still in the middle of nowhere and there’s not much other than snow around.”

“Just wait, woman,” I shook my head, chuckling at her eagerness. “A couple more minutes.”

True to my word, a few minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of a nice small inn that just had a Dawn thing about it. It looked private and cozy, with subtle lights flickering at the windows and the smell of cocoa and cinnamon making its way to us. I watched closely for Dawn’s reaction, just to find her frowning deeply.

“Welcome to Browning,” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. “Which is a very a special place in America for a reason you’ll learn soon enough.” I checked my watch. “It’s not even 11 yet, so we’ve got over an hour left of 2016. I got us a room…” A deathly glare from Dawn stopped me mid-sentence and I trailed off. Well, there went my plans for getting laid tonight. I guess chicks didn’t like this kind of thing planned ahead. Unless they did the planning, of course. Yeah, that’s why I’d given up on understanding chicks long ago. I sighed defeated. “I’ll get us another room. But later. We have to go now if we wanna catch it.”

She huffed in exasperation for not understanding my explanations, most likely. But no way was I gonna divulge my grand plan.

“Catch what? Paul, where are we going?”

I grabbed my backpack from the backseat and pulled out my red hoodie that she was already familiar with from that night with the fundraiser. It suited her better anyway.

“Put this on, over the sweater,” I instructed. “And grab your coat. It’s cold as hell outside.”

I offered no other explanation as I got out of the car and went over to open her door, too, just to find her frustrated and a little pissed off, but I’d learned that Dawn was like a kitten. Angry at the world, fluffy, cuddly, sleepy all the time and curious to the bone. I extended a hand and she couldn’t hold back a huff as she took it.

~SOUNDTRACK: Novo Amor – Alps~

We walked hand in hand for a while, our cold breaths mingling in the cold winter night air. Dawn asked no more questions, and I was grateful for that. I was trying really hard to keep the mystery of it intact, and perhaps that’s why she kept quiet. I knew she loved surprised and she probably didn’t want to spoil it for herself.

We kept walking until we were near that place I’d found online, a small area uphill with no light pollution and from where the inn owners had assured me I could see what we were looking for perfectly, especially this time of the year.

Eventually, I stopped and put down my backpack, silently pulling out a couple blankets, laying one on a piece of rock that wasn’t covered in snow, sitting down and opening my arms for Dawn. She just crossed her arms over her chest.

“So I suppose this is the finish line of your little scavenger hunt?”

I grinned. “Not just yet. But if you’re patient just a little bit longer, you might find out soon enough.”

She sighed, but stepped into my arms anyway and I pulled the other blanket around us.

“There’s only so much patience a woman can have, Paul. Now tell me. What are we waiting for?”

I turned to her, taking her in like this, her lips dry from the cold, her cheeks red, wearing about a dozen layers of clothes, her hands between her knees and shivering in my arms. I smiled widely at her.

“A miracle,” I replied, and she laughed whole-heartedly.

“I think you had your fair share of miracles when you talked me into dating you.”

I huffed. “You say it like you didn’t have a choice.”

She turned in my arms, looking like she was taking me in the same way I had only moments ago, then she bit her lip. “I really didn’t.”

I smiled again, because I knew exactly what she meant. This whole thing had been so out of our hands it was insane. I kept looking back, trying to make any sense at all of the past six months and I was coming down empty. It was a vicious cycle. Looking at her, realizing how stupid crazy about her I was, wondering how I’d ended up this way, finding no answer, then shrugging helplessly because I had no fucking clue. And repeat.

Dawn checked her watch. “Five more minutes till midnight. Seems like your miracle is running a little late.”

I sighed, a little bit anxious. I hadn’t even thought about the possibility that it wouldn’t show up. It would be one hell of a Christmas/New Year’s present waste if it didn’t. We’d been sitting here for over 45 minutes and Dawn was already freezing and so was I. The sky was clear, and since it was perfectly dark, save for the starlight and the moonlight, I could tell Dawn was pretty happy with the view. It wasn’t the one I’d been aiming for, but every now and then, she would point at constellations and tell me about some stars, using that voice she used as if she were there, among them. For someone so rational and such a science nerd, she was dreamy like that.

“11:59,” she announced proudly one minute before midnight. “So you’re in love with me.”

I froze in place, my hands stopping from drawing tiny figures up and down her arms. So much for letting it slide. I could already sense the never-ending feely conversation rolling in my head.

“I, umm—“ I stammered, as if I were trying to come up with an explanation for something bad I’d done. But that was pretty much the equivalent of it for me. Dawn, however, just laughed.

“If you’re so in love with me, make it show up. Right now, at midnight. You’ve got 30 more seconds left.”

I blinked and huffed a laugh. So not where I thought this was going.

“I said no such thing,” I playfully denied it, now that I knew she was toying with me. “And even so, your science brain should know better, Dimples.”

“Five,” she ignored me, counting on. “Four. Three. Two. There you go.”

She sighed defeated, turning to me and kissing me quickly.

“Happy New Year, Paul.”

But I didn’t look at her. Instead, I smiled widely and looked up.

“But then again,” I whispered, “who knows.”

~SOUNDTRACK: Imagine Dragons – Levitate~

The sky was covered in a green silky curtain, drowning the stars and dancing above our heads. Dawn gasped and jumped to her feet, her hands flying to cover her gaping mouth. The Northern Lights reflected in her eyes, making the brown in them mingle with the green, shining brighter than the whole night sky.

“Guess I pulled it off after all. I made it show up,” I stood up as well, taking her hand and following her gaze upwards.

“Oh my God, Paul,” she choked on her words. “This is… Jesus. This is everything I’ve dreamed of.”

“I know,” I smiled widely. “Hell of a Christmas present, am I right?”

She turned to me, her eyes blazing at me so vividly I almost took a step back. “Paul,” she breathed. “I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a kid. And it’s better than my wildest dreams.” A playful glint danced in her eyes. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this am I? You’ll brag about it until your last breath.”

“Aww, babe,” I tilted my head playfully and she groaned at the nickname. “You know me so well.”

She wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my chest and I held her tight, addicted to her warmth and to the way her whole body shivered in excitement.

“Thank you,” she mumbled in my chest. “This is perfect.”

I kissed the top of her head. “My pleasure, Dimples, trust me. If anything, I think I figured out my bucket list.” She raised her head questioningly and I tucked a strand of hair beneath her ear. “What can I say? I guess you inspired me. My bucket list is to make sure every single thing on your bucket list comes true. Northern Lights, check.”

She beamed at me. “That’s oddly selfless of you.”

“Trust me, Dimples, I’m being more selfish than ever,” I laughed. “I’m doing it for my own agenda. If I get to see more of this happy face and if I get more hugs and kisses like this, count me in.”

“I knew there’s a catch,” she shoved me jokingly. “So what’s next?”

I simply shrugged. “Who knows? The world’s at our feet, Dimples. From here to Marseille. Maybe years from now, when we’re bored with what the world has to offer, we’ll meet up in Marseille. Somewhere on the beach, with Drops of Jupiter in the background.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see it in her face that the idea was growing on her. “I hope you’re just messing with me, because otherwise, your friends are gonna have quite the shock when I tell them that Paul Rixon was so romantic it made me puke.”

I laughed. “Guess we’ll see. But I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

I looked up and I heard her giggle as she followed my lead. The lights flickered above us, green as could be, bright yet put to shame by Dawn’s eyes. I looked back at her. I had to admit it was a pretty fucking gorgeous sight.

Yeah, the Northern Lights, too.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Tinashe – Vulnerable (Dave Luxe Remix)~

We made it back to the inn, frozen and covered in snow, but happy and giggling.

The air had shifted around us. It was as if douche Paul was completely out of the picture as far as Dawn was concerned. It was as if she’d finally made up her mind. We kept touching each other like high schoolers who were having a hard time keeping their hands off each other. It was as if everything that had been burning up inside both of us was finally coming to life after tonight. 2017 looked promising already.

We stopped in the hallway, just stealing glances at each other and smiling like we were drunk. She was high on happiness and I was high on her. She’d left her coat in the car and I could see that purple sweater of hers under the collar of my hoodie. I smiled as I played with the zipper, slowly pulling it down and taking my time with it. I didn’t look up at all as I worked it carefully. I was halfway through when I couldn’t resist temptation and finally raised my eyes to meet hers. As I’d suspected, she was blushing like crazy, her cheeks matching the color of the hoodie.

“Paul, what are you doing?” she asked a little out of breath, and I felt the air suddenly heavy in my lungs, too.

“It’s hot in here,” I whispered, moving closer to her ear and I felt her shiver. “And I happen to really like that purple sweater off yours.”

She released a loud breath. “You picked my least sexy thing to like.”

I laughed and realized we’d both moved without even realizing it, so that now her back was pressed against the wall and there were only inches between us. I was itching to kiss her, but where would the fun be in that? Seeing her like this, flustered and with her pupils dilated, her lips parted waiting for a kiss to land on them and seal them shut, she looked hotter than I’d ever seen her.

“Oh, it’s sexy alright,” I whispered, and my hand found her hip.

She exhaled again, even louder than before and her hands landed on my shoulders, to either steady herself or to find the will to push me away.

“You’re playing with fire, Paul.”

I laughed and nudged my nose against hers. “Oh, I am. I love playing with fire. So tell me, Dawn. Where’s that fire?”

My hand left her hip, exploring in its path, slipping underneath the hoodie and over the sweater and it settled on the small of her back, feeling her arch against me. My other hand went to her face, allowing my thumb to trace her jaw, enjoying the way her every heaving breath hit my cheek.

“Is it here?” I asked as I tightened my grip against the small of her back. “Or here?” This time, I let my hand go to the back of her neck, tracing the line of her hair and she let out a small gasp. Seemed like I’d found a soft spot. “Felt a flame just now. Or maybe it’s here?” I pulled her closer, if it was even possible, and let my lips hover above hers, almost touching, but not still. “Let’s try here.” My lips went past her cheek slowly, letting her feel every breath I drew just as heavily as her, and I stopped at her earlobe, nicking it with my teeth.

And if I’d been playing with fire, then I was just about to learn Dawn was an arsonist. Before I could even have time to snap out of the slow burn, her hand caught the back of my neck and pulled me forward, her lips capturing mine hungrily, setting my brain ablaze. Nothing was slow now. I’d played with fire and I’d gotten burned. And it felt so good.

We never got that second room.

23: Excerpt: Sunshine mixed with a little hurricane

~To my sister, Laura, the very inspiration for
Aria Lovelace and a small hurricane of her own~

EXCERPT: SUNSHINE MIXED WITH A LITTLE HURRICANE

~SOUNDTRACK: Thomas Rhett – Get me some of that~

Pete’s breath hitched in his throat the moment he saw Hurricane make her way down the alley, and he kept heaving, struggling not to come off as an asthmatic high schooler with a stutter, up until she opened the passenger’s seat door and climbed inside his car. Then he broke into the dumbest smile he could have possibly pulled off.

“Hi,” he said simply, and Hurricane narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for him to continue and replying when it was clear he wasn’t gonna say anything else.

“You wanna follow up on that?”

Pete’s smile faded slowly as an icicle sent straight from miss ice queen’s glare itself pierced his chest. Well, this was a step backwards from last week’s date. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling to come up with something to say so that he wouldn’t confirm it to Hurricane what she probably already knew. That he was a moron.

“Thought so,” she shot him a mocking grin that only made Pete’s frown deepen. “So, where to?”

“I, umm,” he gestured back and forth, most likely looking like a dizzy bird trying to figure out this flight thing. “I, uh, it’s a… You’ll see.”

Hurricane simply shrugged. “Okay.”

And with that, the conversation was over.

Okay, Pete thought. To say this was weird didn’t begin to cover it. Not long ago, they’d been making out in a shady club, in the dark, being all over each other, talking till dawn, making the night, the winter and the city their little bitches. And Pete had really thought it was going in the right direction. And now, she hardly looked his way, looking rather bored and bothered that she had to be here with him at the moment, like she’d rather be anywhere else. And Pete’s pride took it hard and personal. And he was slowly losing faith in his little date plan.

Paul’s idea had sounded good, but in hindsight, how can an idea voiced by Paul be good? A very Pete date opposed to a very Hurricane date. If she really liked him because of how – or despite of – how dorky and nerdy and awkward and flustered he was, he’d decided to take a risk and put himself out there. Show Hurricane who Pete Nolland was and let her be the judge of whether she wanted him or not. Now, on second thought, maybe he was being just a little bit too bold about this. Was his dorky, nerdy, awkward, flustered side enough to woo someone like Hurricane Lovelace?

Well, it was too late to figure that out now. He stopped the car and turned around to find Hurricane look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Bowling?” she questioned, and Pete gulped. Dammit, he’d been so confident about this plan. He hated how she made him second guess everything when it came to her.

“Umm, yeah,” he spoke in a low voice, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought it was… I mean, if you don’t like it, we can go somewhere else.”

“No,” Hurricane cut him off. “No, it’s okay. I like it.”

She offered him half a smile over her shoulder before climbing out of the car, and just like that, he was back on track. He didn’t know what was up with her tonight, but it seemed like she was slowly slipping back into her normal self. It there was even such thing with Hurricane. She was a masterpiece of so many shades he couldn’t tell which one was the original anymore.

In a bold feeling that came over him out of nowhere, he moved to her side and let his hand slip smoothly into hers, intertwining their fingers. For a split second, he smiled. Yeah, this was nice. He could do this. He had this. However weird and picky Hurricane was, he could get through her layers of badassery and intimidation.

But just as he was growing confident, Hurricane pulled her hand away abruptly, turning around to give him the stinky eye.

“What are you doing?” she nearly barked at him, and Pete gulped. Yet somehow, through the drips of sweat rolling down his forehead from anxiety, he managed to find some words.

“T-trying to hold your hand, I guess.”

“I noticed,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t. Hands to yourself tonight, Peter. And your lips. One small kiss doesn’t grant you free access to the more, pal.”

“It wasn’t small at all,” Pete muttered under his breath, but because that was just his luck, Hurricane happened to not be out of earshot yet. So when she turned around with murder in her eyes, he knew he was screwed.

“What did you say?” she whispered, which terrified Pete more than actual screaming. He could deal with crazy girlfriends – not that he’d ever call Hurricane girlfriend to her face. But this calm storm, he had no idea how to handle.

So he just cleared his throat and chose to remind her – and himself – that he did, in fact, own balls.

“I said it was no small kiss,” he said, but then corrected himself. “Kisses. Because there were several.”

Hurricane just blinked at him and Pete mentally slapped himself. Sure, he owned balls. And now he was gonna get kicked in them. He didn’t think Hurricane pretty much appreciated being smart-mouthed back like that. He was under the impression she liked to have the last word and the upper hand. But because she just loved to take him by surprise and do the last thing he expected her to, she just smiled wickedly at him and clicked her tongue.

“Right,” she mocked, dragging out the word. “And now you’ve just ensured you’ll get no more.”

“So you were considering it?” Pete grinned at her and she rolled her eyes, pointing a finger at him.

“No kiss, Peter.”

“We’ll see,” he muttered again under his breath, but this time, she didn’t hear him. So he kept it to himself, like a promise he had to keep by the end of tonight.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: MICHL – Die trying~

It had been perfect. No, more than perfect. Aria could hold nothing against Pete, and she was trying pretty hard. She wanted to play hard to get and to keep up this hot/cold game. She’d been keen on giving him the cold shoulder tonight and maybe let him boil for a couple days before calling him up and meeting up with him and resuming their little fling. But it seemed like there was something about Pete that made her unable to stay away from him for too long. He was addictive and it was odd. She was drawn to the calmness of his person as one would be to the light of a cottage in a dark night, in a forest, during a violent storm, one she carried within herself. And Pete was a shelter of some sort, and it unnerved her that as awkward and out-of-place as him, who seemed to be uncomfortable in any social situation that required human interaction, could actually keep up with her.

He’d taken her bowling. Bowling. At first, she’d been inclined to roll her eyes and mock him for it. But the poor guy looked so absolutely terrified that she’d decided to be honest for a change and admit she was actually a sucker for silly clichés. And it had been indeed been amazing. They had fun. They were in tune with each other in a way she hadn’t seen coming. Then they went to karaoke and sang to Journey and Grease tunes and Taylor Swift and Beyoncé. Pete could pull a nice Beyoncé. And now, they were walking side by side down the streets of San Francisco, hoping the wind would carry them further.

Aria turned to look at him, finding him looking around with a lingering gaze, absent-mindedly and calm just like it was natural of him. Like she was used to him being. But the paradox was, for someone so used to being outside of her comfort zone like Aria was, this small comfort zone that Pete provided unnerved her. The lack of danger felt dangerous to her. So she decided to break the silence finally and put an end to these silly thoughts.

“So how does it feel to know you took a girl bowling for a date just so she could kick your ass?” she teased him, and he smirked at her, one eye closed in embarrassment.

“Awkward,” he admitted. “Though I did stand my own in karaoke. Admit defeat, Lovelace. You were pretty much speechless.”

Aria snorted. “That’s because you knew every single lyric to Taylor Swift. I’ll gladly take a rematch in classic rock. I’ll have you know I can nail Bohemian Rhapsody. All the vocals.”

Pete laughed whole-heartedly and absent-mindedly reached for her hand. But then he remembered her terms from earlier. Hands and lips to himself. Right. His face fell a little and he flexed his fingers, hoping to hide his previous intentions, but the motion didn’t go unnoticed.

Aria saw him reach for her hand. In a lapse in judgement, she realized she would’ve let him. She didn’t like holding hands on a principle, but Pete just had a way of charming her into becoming something beyond recognition. Hurricane Lovelace, crushing on a boy. What a joke.

And still, when she saw him hold back and fidget in an almost cute attempt to play it cool, she laughed it off and laced his arm through his, enjoying the look of utter shock combined with just a bit of sheer terror. As much as this whole game of hot and cold excited her, she couldn’t help but admit she wasn’t being entirely impartial herself. Pete was supposed to be the one unable to resist her, but every now and then, Aria had to remember to keep her hands – and lips – to herself, too.

Pete cleared his throat in yet another unsuccessful attempt to hide his excitement that she was caving in.

“So where to, milady?”

Aria rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“You tell me, Peter,” she retorted. “The ball’s in your court tonight, isn’t it?”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Well, bowling and karaoke were pretty much my star ideas. They took all I had. I’m not sure I can live up to the bar I’ve raised for myself.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Aria. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and nudged him with her shoulder.

“Come on, Peter. Spit it out. You cooked something. You don’t have a very good poker face.”

Pete snorted. “Excuse you. I am nailing—“

“You’re doing no such thing,” she cut him off. “Deep breath and out with it. I’m not Dawn and I hate surprised.”

The grin that Pete broke into took Aria a little aback. He looked so childish. Cute boyish. Like a shade in a painting that catches your eye and you can’t help from having it stick to the back of your mind. He was not much. And she tended to ask for a lot as a general rule. Still he was enough. Since was she okay with enough? Since when was she okay with less than impossible? She almost pulled away from him, reminding herself the sake of the game was at stake. She wasn’t in this for the relationship crap. She left that to Paul and Dawn. No, she was in this for the kicks of it. Because she wanted to see if she could break him. Get under his skin, tattoo her name on the inside of his eyelids so he’d never know anything else but whose name to call, whisper, dream. And then walk away unscathed. To be both the storm and the calm that followed.

Looking up at him, his eyes glowing in the moonlight with pure excitement, if maybe a little caution, too, lips parting to reveal pearl-white teeth that just so happened to graze the side of that bottom lip lazily. And Aria knew there’s no such thing as safety from wreckage.

“However much I love the sight of you begging,” Pete teased, and Aria nearly punched him in frustration, “I’m afraid I’ll go with the Paul playbook on this one and keep it a mystery.” When Aria only glared in response, he added, “I promise you’ll love it. Now come on.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Arctic Monkeys – I wanna be yours (slowed version)~

Aria walked among the cars, letting her fingers trace the shiny metal as emotion clouded her vision. Bowling and karaoke had gotten under the skin, but this was making sure her veins were saturated with the essence of Pete and what he did to her.

“How come I haven’t heard of this expo?” she asked, narrowing her eyes playfully. She knew all about the Automobile Museum, and obviously, had even visited a few times, at Dawn’s insistence that she would simply fall in love with the place. She had kinda liked it, but not to that extent. She’d found it rather boring. But a classic cars exposition… That was a whole other deal. It took all she had to keep keeping calm and not jump Pete’s bones right away.

“It’s pretty exclusive,” Pete replied, trying to shrug nonchalantly. “They wouldn’t want any careless people snooping around. So I had Paul pull some strings.”

Hurricane nodded absent-mindedly and Pete watched her pensively. He wondered, why do all those absurd clichés start making sense once you start catching feelings? Pete had long since made his point that he didn’t get this fascination towards people. For that reason, relationships struck him as pointless and absurd. People are people. Loud and messy and demanding and flawed. Hurricane was all of those. And yet he was so crazy about her it made him dizzy sometimes. Her body moved lazily from car to car and it was like she was so entrapped that she wasn’t even trying to go for that aware-of-her-whole-body trick to provoke Pete and make his brains boil.

But of course he still boiled. He felt a little shy, a little embarrassed, like that time he and Paul had been caught peaking at girls changing in the locker room in high school. He felt as if he were looking at something he shouldn’t, like Hurricane wouldn’t want him to see her with her guard down like that. But every thought left his head entirely when she let out a soft groan that set his insides on fire, then turning to him.

“Just look at this beauty, Peter. Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Pete came to her side, hands stuffed in his pockets, hoping he managed to play it cool, hoping she couldn’t read in his eyes everything that went through his head.

“Yeah, she is,” Pete gave a quick look-over to the car. “Cadillac, is it?”

Hurricane looked at him like he’d offended her greatest ancestors.

“It’s a Chevy Camaro, Peter,” she snapped at him. “1969, if I had to guess. Gorgeous,” she breathed, and Pete couldn’t conceal his smile.

“Wanna get behind the wheel?”

Hurricane turned her head to him fast, her blue eyes glowing in the same shade as the Camaro. He made a mental note to mention that later. He was sure she would very much enjoy the compliment.

“We can do that?” she shrieked, and Pete shrugged nonchalantly, happy he could look cool for a change instead of the stammering mess he always turned into in front of her.

“I’m sure it can be arranged,” he winked at her, leaving her squealing and jumping as he went to look for Paul’s contact. Sometimes, having a rich snob friend with strings to pull was worth putting up with Paul.

He found the man in charge with the exposition, explained to him what Paul had instructed him to and slipped him a generous bill. He then found Hurricane next to the Camaro where he’d let her, went to her side and opened the door for her.

“Shall we?” he bowed playfully, and she rewarded him with a grin, wide and deadly like a heart attack. She climbed into the car wordlessly, her hands flying straight to the steering wheel as she released a loud breath that rattled through Pete’s bones.

He circled the car with his heart in his throat and, by the time he climbed inside the car, he found Hurricane facing him, the smile gone from her expression and replaced with something else Pete couldn’t quite name. Curiosity, perhaps. He dared to say fascination, even. Whatever it was, he felt like a pretty surveyed by its predator.

He gulped. “You like it?”

“I love it,” she replied, without looking away, without blinking.

“I, umm,” he stammered, resisting the urge to loosen up his collar from lack of air. “I knew you would. I mean I hoped so. Yeah. When I first heard of the expo, it sounded like a you thing. I hope I—“

“Pete.”

The name slipped off the edge of her tongue smoothly, seductively, entrancing, reducing Pete to silence instantly. She never called him Pete. Always Peter. Always a void, always a bridge between them, a game in which she called the shots and allowed him his turn. How affected she must have been to look him in the eye like this, call his name like this and to close that distance between them once and for all. If only for tonight.

“Yeah?” he cursed himself for how breathless he sounded.

She drew in a sharp breath. “I know I told you not to. But I wish you’d kiss me. Like, right now.”

Pete would’ve stopped breathing if his body hadn’t moved out of a will of his own, before his brain could process facts. As through a glass, he saw his hands reach for her. He saw her eyelids flutter closed. He heard her gasp softly and he saw her lips part. Then he closed his eyes and saw nothing more while he tasted her chapstick and felt her flames on his tongue as he kissed Hurricane on the leather seats of an old Camaro.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Shawn Mendes – There’s nothing holding me back~

The morning after that fiasco of a dinner with her folks, Aria decided last night she hadn’t had the opportunity to play with Pete as much as she would’ve liked to. And a day without her favorite game these days was a day wasted.

Without a second thought, she pulled out her phone and dialed Pete’s number. It went to voicemail the first time, but the second time, he picked up after the third ring.

“H-Hello?” his groggy voice answered and it occurred to Aria he must have been sleeping at freaking 10 a.m. after all. Oh well. Keeping up with her obviously came with a price.

“Wake up, Peter,” she sing sang. “Remember that book you were gonna lend me?”

“I, umm, yeah?” it came out as a question. “Yeah. Jane Eyre, was it?”

In all truthness, Aria couldn’t care less about Jane Eyre. She’d read it a couple of times already, but she was in need for an excuse.

“Yup. That one. Meet me at the warehouse where the races we met at were in ten.”

“In ten minutes?” Pete shrieked, and she heard a loud thud that she liked to think was the sound of him falling off the bed. “Hurricane, I can’t possibly—“

“Kay, see you there, Peter,” she hung up before he could keep arguing, grabbed her leather jacket and was out the door within seconds.

 

***

Aria walked inside the living room, ditching her shoes on the way in and sinking in an armchair next to Dawn, sighing in content. Dawn shot her a curious look.

“Fine, I’ll bite,” she closed the book she’d been reading with a thud. “Where were you?”

Aria broke into a grin.

 

***

Aria was stomping her foot by the time Pete made it to the meeting spot, panting and a little sweaty. Not that she minded. It made his shirt clung to his skin in a way that had her blood hum in a little anticipation.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said breathlessly, unable to even muster that smile he had reserved for her only.

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” she turned on her heels, not giving him time to catch his breath. Pete rolled his eyes at her back.

“What am I late for anyway?”

He scanned the area, now in broad daylight. It was a small warehouse, abandoned by the looks of it. In ruins, almost. He would’ve made some more guesses, but Hurricane shot him a wicked grin over her shoulder.

“You coming or not?”

 

***

“Out,” Aria replied cryptically and Dawn narrowed her eyes.

“It’s barely even noon.”

“Yep,” her sister smirked. So she wanted to play.

“With Pete?”

“Yep.”

Dawn shook her head, a little confused. “I stand by my point. It’s not even noon.”

“Yep.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. This was getting frustrating. It was clear she wanted to badly to spill the beans, but she wanted it begged out of her.

 

***

Aria led Pete inside the warehouse, feeling the excitement making her want to peel her skin off. She felt Pete’s eyes on her body, a little hungry, a little excited, a little skeptical, and most definitely afraid to hope.

When she reached a spot she was happy with, she just turned on her heels and faced him. He flinched a little, as if he wanted to take a step backwards under the weight of her gaze. To his credit, he stood his ground. That mere fact made Aria’s insides melt and boil in her bloodstream. He must have felt it in the charged air between them, because he let out an obnoxious and shaky loud breath, wiping away some sweat from his forehead.

“So, umm,” he stammered. “What are we doing here?”

Her only response was a feral smile as she strode to him.

 

***

Dawn sighed.

“I hate this game,” she referred to this little Hurricane guessing challenge. “So far I know you were out. With Pete. Alone. Nowhere in public.”

“Yep,” Aria stuck to her line.

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Then do I even wanna know?”

This time, Aria’s face lit up as her lips curled into a smile. “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

 

***

Her hands grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his mouth down to hers, devouring it hungrily. Pete hesitated only for a second, making the mistake of going easy on her. Caressing her hair, squeezing her hip lightly and trying to make it cute and romantic.

But when Hurricane caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit it softly, he knew she meant business. And he took Hurricane by utter surprise when he groaned in a low, guttural voice and pulled his body closer into hers until the space between them became a black whole with gravity so strong it made sure they collided violently. He walked her backwards until her back was pressed against the nearest wall, his body pressed tightly into hers, making sure he left no accessible inch of skin unexplored.

Hurricane let out groan after groan every time his lips trailed her neck, her collar bones, her chin, her earlobe, her mouth. She let her hands trail down his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt. She let her hands slip under the shirt, drawing scratches down his back, in response to the wonders he worked on her ear.

She loved Pete taking control like that. It was a game of domination and, to her utter shock, Pete was winning.

 

***

Dawn shuddered. “That may have been a bit too graphic for my taste.”

Aria simply shrugged. “You asked.”

“You practically made me,” Dawn narrowed her eyes. “Flaunting it in my eyes until you nearly bullied me into asking.”

“Oh, shut up,” Aria rolled her eyes. “You’re such a gossip girl anyway. There’s no point in denying it.”

Dawn repressed a smile, not bothering to try denying it, but not admitting it either.

“So are you ready to acknowledge it yet?” she asked  her sister, but Aria just played dumb.

“Acknowledge what?”

“That you’re catching feelings for Pete.”

Aria snorted. “Yikes. Sounds like catching a cold. Hope it goes away with Ibuprofen.”

Dawn grinned widely. “So you’re admitting it.”

Aria fell silent, thinking about it.

 

***

Aria walked out of the warehouse, acting cool like Pete hadn’t just committed arson in every fiber of her body. Pete, on the other hand, looked exactly the part. And she felt insurmountable pride knowing she was the reason for it.

She stopped and placed herself in front of him. He blinked, still trying to pull himself out of the trance.

“Well?” she inquired and he frowned.

“What?”

Aria raised an eyebrow. “The book, Peter. Jane Eyre.”

He just looked at her dumb folded for a minute, then blinked as the fog started to raise from his eyes. “Oh. Oh! The book. Yeah. Wait right here.”

Without wasting a heartbeat, Pete turned on his heels and broke into a spring. Like, literally, an actual sprint. As if someone were chasing him. Aria blinked after him, not sure how to even react. Eventually, she allowed her shoulders to shake with silent laughter.

Pete Nolland was a doofus. A dork. A silent, deadly tornado of his own. And Aria knew she wasn’t walking out of this one alive.

She knew she had feelings for Pete.

 

***

Aria clicked her tongue at her sister’s inquiry.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

 

Hey, guys. I’m sorry for the terrible delay. Hope the lil’ excerpt made it up to you. I may have to go into a little hiatus, since finals are up and murdering me. Slowly. Brutally. Thank you all for sticking with me, you’re the best!!

Can’t wait to hear your opinions about our great great couple sharing some sexy moments ;)

Lots of love,

xoxx

24: Chapter 21: From A to Z to her

CHAPTER 21 – FROM A TO Z TO HER

~Paul’s POV~

~SOUNDTRACK: Halsey – Colors (Stripped)~

A was for an auburn sky

Smiling down on us to pry,

For how you awoke my senses,

And I stepped past your defenses.

***

January 1^st, 2017

The first day of the year had found us between the sheets, discovering just how fluent we spoke each other’s bodies’ languages. Dawn was an explosion of colors in the back of my head, fine silk between my fingertips, sweet wine on my tongue. When the sun peaked from beneath the horizon, it found us with tangled limbs, whispering sweet nothings, drunk on the taste of each other’s skin.

We slept through the day. We woke up a few times, separately, just to grab a bite, but when I woke up for good, dusk was setting. I rubbed my eyes and reached for Dawn, just to find her side of the bed empty. Funny. I was usually the one to hit and run.

I sat up, scanning the room for her, now actually starting to worry she’d ditched me. Maybe she’d stolen my car and left me for dead in an inn in fucking Montana. I laughed at how girly I was starting to sound in my head when I finally caught sight of Dawn.

You’d think by now she’d be running out of ways to steal my breath. She was on the balcony, probably freezing her cute ass off, bare feet, wearing my T-shirt and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that must have done a pretty poor job keeping her warm. She looked so vulnerable. So defenseless. I never would’ve thought Dawn Lovelace would’ve let me slip past those walls of hers, and yet here I was, in the heart of the fortress.

I stood up and put on my jeans and grabbing another blanket and joining her. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and feeling my skin tingle as she let out a sigh of content.

“I was gonna say good morning,” she mocked, and I chuckled. “But I guess we missed that.”

“It’s okay,” I kissed her temple. “Sunsets can be our new thing.”

She turned to me, wrinkling her nose. “Sure, it’s nice. But I’ll stick with sunrises.”

I shook my head at her, rolling my eyes. “You can never make a woman happy.”

She shifted in my arms, turning to face me and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Not true,” she grinned widely. “I’m happy now.”

I grinned back, because I’d been the one to make her so. And then I kissed her long beneath the auburn sunset, not feeling my toes anymore from the cold, but feeling every ounce of heat radiating out of her body and into mine.

***

B, ‘cause my brain was a mess

When I saw you in that dress,

Because my crush was benign,

Until I clasped your hand in mine.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Train – Hey, soul sister~

February, 2017

I blinked at Dawn as she took off her coat the moment she climbed inside my car. She was wearing a purple cocktail-like dress, classy enough, but not excessively, and still a little playful and tight enough to send my imagination spinning. She caught sight of me staring, probably with my jaw somewhere next to the brakes.

“What?” she inquired and I just shook my head at her outfit, feeling the blood heat up beneath my skin.

“Where do you even get these dresses? Weren’t sweaters your thing?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Paul Rixon, losing his shit over a dress.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I simply shrugged, and she blushed a little at the memory. “Dawn Lovelace, cussing. Seems like we’re a bad influence on each other.”

Dawn scoffed and let it go and I took her hand, kissing her knuckles. I clung to her hand, noticing the way her grip got tighter the closer we got to my house. I grinned at her, not even bothering to hide the teasing expression from my face.

“Nervous, Lovelace?”

She simply huffed. “Of course not. Why would I be? I’m only meeting the Ross Anderson, the big bad CEO everyone talks about. I was thinking about it just this morning, as I sat there eating cereal in my Hello Kitty pajamas. I’m totally up for the game.”

I frowned at her incredulously. “Sure. Because that’s totally the problem. You’re the one who’s bad for me.”

She tilted her head to one side, like a confused puppy, and a small smile bloomed in the corner of her lips. “Well. When you put it like that, it does sound absurd.”

***

C was that corner of world

That I build around one girl.

And for the color of your lips

That I wanted to feel under my fingertips.

***

It was so fascinating to see Dawn fit into my world like that. No, it was fascinating to see Dawn absorb every inch of it and to watch everything orbit around her. Wow. I was starting to speak in space metaphors. I guess I was really whipped.

Ross and Lily adored her. Ross just hung back in a corner, watching her with a warm smile on his lips that I don’t recall having ever seen on him. He looked almost proud. And I perfectly got it. All modesty aside, I was pretty proud of myself for ending up with Dawn. After all the one night stands I’d snuck in and out of the house, Dawn was the first one who walked through the front door in broad daylight, bringing along with her every ounce of soul that made me so crazy about her. And by the looks of it, aunt Lily was buying what Dawn was selling, too. And could I blame her?

“You see, dear, Paul is so self-assured right now, but he wasn’t always like that,” she explained, and I stifled a groan. “He was a pretty awkward kid.”

“Really?” Dawn beamed smugly at me, and I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad at Lily for bringing that up, since it put that grin on her face, so I just shrugged helplessly.

“Ah, yes,” uncle Ross chuckled. “Glasses and all. His old room was all packed with Star Wars posters and Star Wars bedsheets and Star Wars everything. I think he even had some Jedi robes and lightsabers.”

I huffed. “My current room is packed with all things Star Wars.”

“Yeah, Paul, I think we all agree you’re stuck at 12,” Dawn rolled her eyes playfully, making my aunt and uncle laugh in agreement. I blinked, feeling a conspiracy being formed against me, as Dawn kept speaking. “Oh, man. I wish I could see awkward Paul. I’d have something to blackmail him with until the end of his days.”

Aunt Lily caught her arm, her eyes widened in excitement. And I knew it was that moment from all those cheap movies that was gonna make me cringe. The childhood pictures. Oh hell, no. I was not sitting through another movie cliché.

***

D was for the dreamless dawn,

You wearing my jacket on,

For that daring thought of mine

That had me kissing you goodbye.

***

“Kid Paul was such a cutie,” Dawn sighed, and I glared at her playfully.

“Was? You make it sound like he’s long gone and I turned into something awful.”

She wrinkled her nose playfully. “Eh, maybe not so bad. But I definitely liked you in glasses and Star Wars pajamas.”

I laughed. Maybe Lily’s idea to bring out the old photographs wasn’t so bad. Dawn’s eyes had lit up at every single one of them, drinking them in and squealing from time to time.

“This feels like a good moment to mention I still have Star Wars pajamas,” I commented, and she threw her head back laughing.

We were walking the way from my car to her dorm, because I was that selfish and I couldn’t give up a single minute spent with her. The air was cold, but next to her, it felt pleasant, like coming home. I had given her my jacket. Sure, because she was cold and I didn’t want her to catch a cold. Totally not because I may or may not have had a thing for her looking so ridiculously hot in my jacket.

“You know,” I remembered, now that I was thinking about her being cold and whatnot, “I still have that scarf of yours somewhere in my car. That blue one?”

“Blue?” she frowned. “You mean the green one?”

“No, I mean the blue one,” I narrowed my eyes. Sure, men aren’t that good with colors as women. I may not know the difference between apricot and peach and I had no idea what the hell beige was, but I sure as hell could tell the difference between blue and green.

“That scarf is definitely green, Paul,” she rolled her eyes. “At most, turquoise.”

“Turq—“ I blinked, turning to her in disbelief. “Dawn. It’s fucking blue.”

“No, it’s—“

I held up a hand, shushing her. I knew I always lost arguments with her, whether she was right or I was wrong. No way was I spending the rest of the night arguing about the difference between blue and green. Better cut to the chase.

“Whatever. Your scarf. I still have it, somewhere in my car.” It made the inside of my car smell like her when she wasn’t around. But no way was I girly enough to admit it.

“Sounds like the kind of thing a perv would do,” she teased, and I shrugged, not bothering to deny it. I was a perv. “Keep it until next time.”

I smiled as she turned away, winking at me. But she wasn’t getting away from me this easily. I grabbed her wrist and spun her around, crashing her lips against mine. She must have seen it coming, because I felt her chuckle in my mouth, felt her chest vibrate with laughter as I pressed her closer to me. When we pulled away, she was grinning up at me, flushed, but smug nonetheless.

“Bye, babe,” I whispered next to her lips and she didn’t even have it in her to pout at the nickname as she smoothed down her hair and walked away.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Jonny Diaz – Breathe~

E was for an endless daze

When I could stare at you for days,

For eagerness uncalled for

As I knocked on your front door.

***

March 2017

It was pretty crazy these days. Dawn was studying her cute little ass off and struggling with choices for her future. She was wanted for several research jobs in several centers all across the country, which came as no surprise. My girl was brilliant. And watching her work so hard had an odd effect on me, too. I didn’t want to be the prick in the background, the lazy boyfriend she carried and the one her friends shook their heads at when she mentioned. I wanted to deserve her. So I worked hard, too. I went to classes. I stuck to my deadlines. I finally put my pretty brain to work and I was building my path. Ross was ecstatic.

The only downside of this was we never had much time for our relationship anymore. We kept missing each other. Things went crazy fast for both of us, things got thrown our way, all four of us were overwhelmed, Pete and Aria included. It was like running a marathon. You know it’s gonna be worth it and that those gulps of air at the finish line will be bliss, but until then, you gotta keep pushing. I don’t know how Dawn managed it. I was losing my mind. Responsibility sucked.

Yet, as busy and crazy as things got, I lived for those tiny moments when we did get together. They felt stolen. But I made sure to drop by every night to at least catch up and snuggle for a bit. Dawn had even kicked Mandy out a couple of times just so that we could get some privacy. Which was impossible with her pink hair sticking into our business and eavesdropping and third-wheeling our already short time.

It was a routine. A terrible routine, but a routine nonetheless. It was dizzy, but as long as I got to have those dimples before my eyes at the end of the day, it was breathable. As long as I knocked on her door and she answered it, most days with bags under her eyes but also a big smile on her lips for me only.

Papers. Essays. Endless crappy laws I could barely stuff into my head anymore.

Knock. Open. Kiss.

That stupid internship and uncle Ross’ firm. Hours and hours of useless paperwork and pep talks about the responsibilities of my future.

Knock. Open. Kiss.

Pete’s relationship drama. Aunt Lily breathing down my neck. Teachers bugging me to use more than the bare minimum and get involved at full capacity. More pep talks about my potential.

Knock. Open. Kiss.

Always the same. Always there. Never faltering. Always those melting brown eyes I could stare into for days. Always the same excitement before she answered. Always that light in her eyes when she saw me, before her body gave in to gravity and found mine. With everything going on, with everyone pestering me, it was amazing how she was still the only one who didn’t ask anything of me other than what I was willing to offer. She didn’t want a better, more improved, more responsible Paul. She was fine with the one she got. Greatest dilemma of my life.

Well, that didn’t mean I couldn’t give all of that to her anyway. I got all tingly when she told me how proud she was of me.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Jamie N Commons – Rumble and sway~

F is for the fifty ways

I’d come up with to hold your gaze,

And for fifty more reasons why

I’d fail and fail with every try.

***

I felt Dawn’s leg slide against mine under the table and I started so hard, my knees went up and hit the table. Everyone in the area of the library where we sat glared at me for the noise and I just looked around apologetically, then redirected their glare towards Dawn with one of my own.

“What are you doing?” I whispered through gritted teeth as her leg kept sliding up my calf.

She looked up from her book with such an innocent, borderline annoyed, look on her face, that had I not felt that small leg next to mine, I would have bought.

“What are you talking about?” she asked with an edge in her voice that had me so fooled I even looked under the table to confirm it was indeed her leg and that I wasn’t losing my fucking mind from too much studying and too less time spent naked with Dawn lately.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Yeah, maybe I was really losing my shit, feeling phantom legs creeping up on me. Because there’s no way she could’ve been so chill and composed and stone-faced if that had indeed been her leg.

But then her lips did the thing. That thing when she didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore. That thing when just one corner of her mouth started sliding upwards and she caught it between her teeth, biting it before it could form a full smile. That thing when she gnarled at the inside of her cheek, trying and failing to keep her composure. Dawn was in the mood to play games. And somehow, ever since that night in Montana on New Year’s Eve, I was having a hard time resisting her games. Not when I knew exactly just how dirty she could play.

She dropped her gaze for a brief moment, clearing her throat, and I thought I was safe for the time being. But when her eyes met mine again, there was fire in them, and mischief like I’d never seen on Dawn Lovelace. She was rubbing off of me. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Right now, definitely not good. I pulled at the collar of my shirt and averted my gaze. Was it hot in here? It was only March and winter still lingered in the air. It couldn’t be this hot already. I’d have to have a chat with Miss Parker about the heating system.

I turned my attention back to my book and read the same sentence four or five times before admitting to myself there was no way I was studying a single word today. Responsibility was overrated anyway. I was Paul Rixon after all. I was the reckless one. And if my girl wanted to play reckless, I might as well give her a proper lesson.

I met her eyes with determination, just to find her staring back at me, her chin resting in her palm and wearing a smile she wasn’t even bothering to hide. Her wardrobe had gotten a little bolder ever since we’d started dating. She was still all things sweaters, but she wore her hair down almost every day now, and under those cute girl sweaters, I sometimes caught sight of some sexy transparent shirts with just enough cleavage to send my head spinning. She wore more skirts and high heels while I discovered the miracles I could work on her with a shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

The moment our eyes met, my will fell weaker and weaker as that molten brown of her gaze drilled into me. Gosh, I’d created a monster. I cleared my throat and pulled some more at my collar, averting my gaze again. I was sweating like a sinner in a church. I slammed my book shut with a thud, earning some glares from around me and stared back at Dawn, who was looking at me with eyebrows raised, like her googly eyes hadn’t been the cause of this.

“Wanna get out of here?” I whispered, trying to hold her gaze without combusting.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m your girlfriend, you dork. You don’t have to pick me up like I’m some girl in a bar.”

Nonetheless, she started packing up her stuff and we were out the door in under five minutes, with Miss Parker’s shocked glances following us. I bet she had never seen Dawn leave the library so early and so fast, like fire burned under her heels. Well. She may have been right about that. Only it was a different sort of fire.

***

G is for a glimpse at you

That made me stand and cross the room,

And for the guts to ask you out,

Then you were all I’d think about.

***

“How did you talk me into this again?” Dawn mumbled as we made our way down the sidewalk toward the bar where we decided we’d play our game.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“It was your idea,” I reminded her and she pursed her lips. Sure, I was shocked, too, that Dawn was being so playful lately. So when she mentioned she’d always wanted to play strangers with the person she was in a relationship with, I’d been skeptical, but decided to humor her. It wasn’t often that she took the initiative.

“That’s even worse,” she defended herself. “It means you’re projecting your bad influence on me and I’m not even aware of it anymore.”

I slowed my pace, staying behind and letting her go on so that we wouldn’t blow our cover. She looked at me over her shoulder before walking away and I winked.

“Nothing new under the sun, babe.”

She glared. “If you call me that one more time, you’ll end up with a drink in your face.”

I blew her a kiss. “Whatever you say, babe. Now go.”

She rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving me laughing. I waited a few more minutes before following her inside, my body humming with anticipation. We hadn’t settled on a script, so that would just make it all the more interesting. For all the uptight nerd she was, Dawn could be quite unpredictable at times. And I looked forward to it.

My wide smile faded as soon as I walked inside the bar and found Dawn already at a table, a tall guy in a clearly expensive suit sitting next to her and leaning forward, and Dawn was laughing at some joke he said. Oh, if he thought his little James Dean game would impress my girl… Well, would it? Luckily, Paul Rixon was over his high school girl years and pulled himself together. We had our own game to play.

I made my way to their table and pulled off my best smile, chiming in right in the middle of James Dean’s sentence.

“Hi,” I beamed at Dawn as if the dude weren’t even there. “Do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk by again?”

Dawn pursed her lips against a smile and I was so caught up by the fact that we’d gotten to the point where my stupid jokes cracked her up, that I forgot about James Dean entirely. That is, until he let out an obnoxious snort.

“Can’t you see the lady’s busy? Do yourself a favor and take your lame pick-up lines somewhere else. You’re disrespecting my date.”

His date. I subtly glanced at Dawn, who looked just as shocked and prone to laugh in his face as I was. But I pulled myself together and glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just swinging by to ask her if her name is Google. Cause she has everything I’m searching for.”

Dawn giggled, making James Dean blink at us. Would you look at that? My girl would take my lame pick-up lines over stuck-up suited-up carrots-up-their-asses pretentious pricks any day. I tried not to look too smug about it.

“Dawn, you mean to tell me you’re considering ditching me for this loser?” he flared and Dawn simply shrugged.

“Sorry, Dean –“ I held back a snort at how close my assumption had been, “But sending the waiter over here with a drink and a note is too much of a movie cliché for me.”

The pretentious Dean wasn’t so pretentious as he walked away letting out a wave of profanities, but for me and Dawn, it was fun enough. Holding back laughter, I turned to her again, using my best weapon yet. Science lame pick-up lines.

“So, tell me, babe, are you made from copper and tellurium? Cause you’re cute.”

Her cheeks flushed at the joke and I could tell she loved it, but I knew Dawn well enough to be able to tell when her stubbornness won over how much she liked me. This was one of those times. And I could tell by the glint in her eyes exactly what she was gonna do and exactly what I’d done to deserve it.

In one quick motion, she grabbed the Appletini and splashed it straight in my face. I took it valiantly, bravely and calmly. What can I say? Dawn and I could do worse than that.

“I told you you’d end up with a drink in your face if you ever call me that again,” she winked at me, before putting on a show of fake lack of respect and offensive comments on my behalf and sneaking in some attempt of mine to feel her up under the table before storming up and leaving me under the disapproving glares of the whole bar, like the absolute perv she’d made me to be.

And in that moment, I’d never been more in love with her.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Norah Jones – Carry on~

H, for hers, just like my heart,

That forgets to beat when we’re apart.

For a hundred shades of blue

That the sun in your eyes drew.

***

April 2017

It had only been a weekend. Man, Dawn had me so whipped, because I missed her like crazy. I’d gotten so used to seeing even a little of her every day for so long now, that even a couple of days with her nowhere in sight felt off to me. I was restless, smoking cigarette after cigarette like I hadn’t done in a while because I knew how much Dawn hated it.

It was Sunday evening. The train was to arrive in ten minutes. Dawn had been away for the weekend, giving interviews for research internships she’d applied for all over the country. She’d been anxious out of her mind, but I wasn’t afraid. I knew she’d kick ass. She was crazy, freakishly smart and she was gonna make those bastards fall in love with her same way I had. Truth be told, I was more afraid of that. That one of them was gonna like her so much they’d offer her a job all the way across the fucking country. Though I’d have followed her all the way across the fucking world.

Seven more minutes. People came and went. Kisses were shared. Goodbyes were said. I looked at the panel once more, counting the minutes. Six more minutes. Then five. The air was chilly in that way that’s enough to be refreshing in spring evenings. It was only a little after 8, but it felt like one of those young nights Dawn and I liked to make the best of.

Four minutes. Then three. Then two. I heard the train in the distance. Then it stopped in front of me. People got out and greeted their friends or loved ones, and I waited.

You know what it’s like when you learn a new word or find a new song and suddenly you keep hearing it everywhere? The same thing had pretty much happened with Dawn. Whenever there was a crowd, she was the first thing I looked for. I saw her in other people that weren’t her. I saw her in every sweater, in every girl with shoulder-length hair, in every dimpled cheek. And as people got off the train, my eyes found her first. Covered in a light sweater. With shoulder-length hair. With dimpled cheeks, smiling at me. Jumping in my arms.

“Hey, babe,” I chuckled in her hair, clutching her tight to my chest. I heard her groan as she looked up at me with a playful frown between her brows. I kissed it away.

“I was gonna admit I missed you,” she mumbled. “Now I see the flaw of judgment.”

“Ouch,” I pushed her away, laughing, stroking her hair. “I was gonna suggest a late night walk. Maybe watching the sunrise together, for old times’ sake. I have missed you, I’ll have you know. But oh well, if you’re not up for it…”

She pinched my arm hard enough to make me yelp. ”Jerk. Let’s go.”

***

The sun rose, greeting us like we were old friends. And if we were to count, he’d found me and Dawn welcoming him quite a few times in these past months. It just felt like the moment was very eerie every time. It wasn’t even 7. We were sleepless and cold, cuddled so close to each other we must have looked like a bizarre creatures with four arms and four legs and two heads. The whole world was asleep, fumbling through the dark, and yet we were wide awake, chasing away sleep for each other’s sake.

Dawn raised her head to look at me, smiling, and I took in all the flames that the rising sun drew in her eyes. She was fucking gorgeous. And all mine.

“I wonder how much more we can do this,” she whispered with a bitter smile. “Watch the sunrise like this. Stay up all night like nothing else matters.”

“It doesn’t,” I hurried to reassure. “Nothing else matters, not to me. The whole world can fucking burn. I’m fine with it as long as we get to watch it burn together.”

She sighed content in my arms. “I know, babe. But we—“

I pushed her away quickly to search her face, blinking down at her. “Did you just say what I think you said? Because if so, I need you to say it again. Louder. Clearer. Spell it out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dork. Moment ruined.”

I laughed and kissed her ear, getting a small yelp out of her. “Not at all. I’m very much enjoying the moment. I’m rubbing off on you. This is amazing.”

Dawn let her head drop in the crook of my neck and sighed again. “But Paul, things are gonna change. Some stuff matters. If I get one of those research jobs—“

“You will,” I turned her so that she could see it in my eyes how much I believed in her. “They’d be idiots not to want you. I do. And I’ll follow you anywhere. I don’t care. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. It’s not like I plan to let you go any time soon. But for now, I just wanna stay right here with you as long as I possibly can.”

She blinked at me, a little teary-eyed, then nodded and snuggled into my side. Glad we were on the same page.

***

I is for in love with you,

Where I fell without a clue,

For impossible to think

Of a world that you’re not in.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Mat Kearney – Ships in the night~

Her small fists were gonna tear my fucking door down. She was furious. I could feel it radiating through the door. My back was against it and every time she punched and punched against it my whole body vibrated along with it.

I’d been sitting here for a while. I don’t know for how long. The phone on my bed had rung relentlessly. I bet Dawn and Pete and maybe even Lily and Ross had been trying to reach me, but I didn’t feel like talking right now. I’d fucked up. God, it was only a matter of time. I’d been given this girl who, by some miracle, was actually willing to date me and liked me just the way I was, and I was pretty screwed up alright. And what do I do? I fuck it up.

I heard Dawn groan loudly and let herself drop on the floor, her back hitting the door with a loud thud. I was pretty sure her position mimicked mine, this stupid fucking door between us like a bridge impossible to cross. And all I had to do was get up and open it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. If I did, I would have to face the aftermath of our last conversation. And I didn’t wanna do that. I wanted to pause it right there, before I’d said the dumb thing. Right before it all went to hell.

***

“San Diego isn’t so far,” she tried to reassure me, but I just glared at her. “Okay, it’s gonna be a bit of a pain in the ass, but we’ll be fine. We’ll make it work, right?”

I sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m really happy for you. I mean, a research internship in the observatory in San Diego is a big deal. Your spot there is pretty much called for. There’s a bright future waiting for you, Dimples. But I’m not sure where I fit in it.”

I could see her face fall a little, as much as she tried to hide it, and I knew it hadn’t been the right thing to say. After all, I had promised I’d follow her anywhere. And I wanted to. It just didn’t feel like the right place for me by her side in these circumstances. She was meant for great things. I wasn’t sure she could have those next to me. I was a slacker. I was a jackass who learned how to dress better and talk better and act better because I wanted to be better for her. But she was striving for things out of my reach. And it occurred to me I may not be enough.

“Well, that’s your choice to make, isn’t it?” she forced a smile and I sighed deeply. Enough. Not enough. Enough. Not enough.

Enough. “Well, you said you gotta be there by the end of the summer for orientation and training before you actually start. You can go on ahead and I’ll follow after I settle things with my uncle and his firm. I can take over the San Diego branch.”

Her smile widened as she beamed at me. Enough.

“You’d do that?”

I shrugged nonchalantly. Enough.

“I could find an apartment. Something small. I’d get it nice and cozy before you get there so that you don’t have to worry your cute little head about decorating. We could get the cat I want and the dog you want. I’m sure they’d get along. If we did it, so can they, am I right? Paul? What’s wrong?”

Enough. Enough. Enough. I looked at her, but I couldn’t see her. I looked past her, to that life she was already building in her head, and I just couldn’t see it. The image flickered in my head and then disappeared altogether. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pull that off. Not enough.

“Paul?” she tried again, in a smaller voice.

“Don’t you thing you went a little overboard?” I snapped, regretting the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. I saw her face darken, but it was like a train wreck. It just went and went and I couldn’t stop it.

“Paul—“

Not enough. “Nothing’s set in stone, Dawn. You’re talking months from now, apple pie life, with an apartment and a dog and a cat? What, you and Lily picked the wedding dress yet?”

I stood up and walked away, knowing nothing I said now could erase the damage I’d done. I’d gone ahead and ruined it. Because what Dawn wanted, that perfect life? I didn’t know if I was the one who could give that to her. So I walked away cursing at everything and, most of all, at myself.

***

“Open the goddamn door, Paul,” I heard her hiss from the other side, low enough so that I knew she knew I could hear. “I know you’re there. Lily let me in. She said you came home last night and locked yourself in. I know you’re in there, dammit. Just open the door and let’s be grown-ups about it.”

I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. Minutes passed. I flinched when she landed another punch into the door, groaning in frustration.

“Paul, open the hell up.               We can fix this.”

Enough. Not enough. Enough. Not enough.

I stood up angrily. Had this woman no instinct of self-preservation whatsoever. Couldn’t she see how toxic I was? I opened the door and there she was, flushed and tears on her cheeks, but fierce and standing her ground. Beautiful as ever, even as miserable as this.

“There’s nothing to fix,” I forced myself to say. “I’m a mess and this isn’t what you need right now. I hope you find it, but it isn’t me.”

I wanted to slam the door shut, but she caught it with her hand and pushed it hard enough to walk inside the room, stomping her foot like a kid who didn’t get her way.

“Since when do you care about that?” she yelled at me.

“Since now,” I yelled back.

“Well, you didn’t when you just waltzed into my life and took me apart, did you? You didn’t when you stalked me into falling for you, did you? You didn’t these past months that we spent together, did you? So why now, Paul? Why is it that, the second it gets hard, you just decide you’ve had enough? Why are you suddenly being so self-righteous about my needs?”

“Because I love you,” I blurted out. “I love you, you crazy woman. And I love you so much I can’t take my chances with you. I can’t risk that you might wake up one day and decide I’m not enough for you, when I know for a fact that I’m not.” I took a deep breath and continued in a lower voice. “You deserve better. And that’s not me. We both knew this from the start.”

She just blinked at me a couple of times. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and fidgeted so much I was sure she was gonna do the sane thing and turn on her heels and walk away without looking back. But then she just closed the distance between us in a few tiny, but fierce steps. And then she just smacked me straight across the face as hard as she could, sending my head flying sideways. My hand went to the burning in my cheek as I stared up at her.

“Well, I love you, too, you absolute idiot,” she yelled even louder than before, so enraged that I had trouble at first getting the message she was sending across. “So don’t pull that bullshit on me again. You don’t get to freak out and walk out on me, you hear me? I’m in and damn you, you’re in with me, too. Are we clear?”

I stared up at her. I was gonna nod, because it couldn’t be clearer, when I saw Lily standing in the doorway, staring at us confused.

“What is all this yelling?” she inquired. “Dawn, sweetie, why are you shouting?”

Dawn, still pretty powered up, turned to my aunt with the same rage as that with which she’d just finished sprouting my way.

“Because I love him,” she yelled, making herself look so ridiculous that aunt Lily had to bite her lip against a smile.

“Well then,” she snickered, closing the door behind her. “I’ll get out of your hair. You show him, girl.”

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Score – This beating heart~

J is for the joy with which

You make me better stitch by stich,

For that large jacket of mine,

You wore during that first sunshine.

***

May 25^th,  2017

“This is oddly well-wrapped,” Dawn said, eyeing my present suspiciously and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m offended.”

Pete huffed by my side. “No reason for you to be. Since she’s right. Since I wrapped it.”

Dawn smiled widely, shooting me a wink that had me forgetting I was supposed to pout.

“Just open it, woman,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Hurricane huffed, a gesture she’d surely picked from her drama queen of a boyfriend. “That’s what someone who picked a shitty gift would say.”

I was gonna argue with her and Pete longer, but I was interrupted by Dawn’s gasp when she opened the gift. For a minute, she just picked it up and stared at it for so long I was starting to get worried. Maybe it was really a shitty gift. Maybe she didn’t get what I was hinting at. Oh man, Pete was right. She didn’t get it. I was gonna have to explain it to her, the idea and the reason behind it. And then it was gonna suck. And she was gonna pretend she liked it for my sake.

“Paul,” she breathed, interrupting my train of thoughts. “That’s exactly like—“

She trailed off, tears of joy dancing in her eyes and I smiled widely, knowing she’d got it. A red hoodie. Exactly like the one she’d worn that night. That morning. During that sunrise, with that red dress and my red hoodie over it. She got it. How could she not?

“Happy birthday, babe.”

She put it on, smiling so wide and so happy I knew she didn’t even have it in her to get mad about the nickname.

***

K is for a kiss, then ten,

And a million more since then.

And it’s also for your knuckles

I kiss every time you chuckle.

***

I opened the door to my room just to find Dawn standing there, looking even more tired than I bet I looked. Well, it had been a rough week, what with getting everything in order for leaving for San Diego and still leaving everything in order here and still managing to keep up with our studies.

It was pretty late, and we hadn’t gotten to see much of each other this last couple of days. And of course, here she was, on my doorstep, exhausted, hair ruffled and dark circles under her eyes, but still a small smile for me on her lips.

“Hey, babe. Lily let you in?”

She nodded and I leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips. Like we’d done a million times. Sort of a reflex by now, really. And yet, it always made my heart let out a content flutter.

“Tired. Wanna sleep,” she complained, and I took her hand, kissing it lightly.

“You came all the way here just to sleep?”

“With you,” she said simply, and I wiggled my eyebrows at her. She glared, but said nothing, and I sighed.

“Even I’m too tired to get kinky about it. So sleep?”

She nodded excitedly. She shrugged off her sweater and jumped into a large T-shirt of mine and as she snuggled into my arms, under the blankets, dozing off within seconds, as exhausted as I was, I knew what it really felt like to have your happiness depend on something so small and so fragile.

***

L is for how lost I’d be

If you weren’t here with me,

Loving, laughing, lying here,

Where I hold you all so dear.

***

I looked up at Dawn for the hundredth time, catching her staring at me not so subtly.

“What?” I finally snapped at her, and this time, she didn’t even try to hide it.

“I was just thinking.”

“I’ve seen you think, Dawn,” I rolled my eyes. “Often. You’re never this creepy about it.”

“You know, you’ve changed a lot,” she blurted out all of a sudden, out of nowhere. I frowned.

“I don’t know whether to thank you or feel offended. But where’s this coming from?”

She simply shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I was just thinking. When we started dating, I made it a point to myself to never ask you to change. I fell in love with you just like this. Sure, a dick. But a charming one at that. And with this light about him that made me question and probe. You were never apologetic about who you were, and though I disliked who you were most of the time, I respected how proudly you wore it.”

“But?” I inquired, and she smiled.

“But it’s different now. You’re still that guy, along some lines. But you’re loving. Responsible. I don’t know. Sharper around the edges. Like you’ve made up your mind about who you are.”

I digested what she said before replying. How could I put this in a way that didn’t make me sound lame?

“I’m still not sure about that,” I tried. “But I know who I wanna be when I’m with you. So I guess that’s gotta count for something.” I see. So no way to say it without sounding lame then. “But look who’s talking, Dimples. Loose hair. More skirts. More nerve.”

“What can I say?” she tried to hide that blush with some sass. “Someone’s got to have some balls in this relationship.”

“Ha,” I scowled at her. “See, this is what I’m talking about. We both changed into something better. I guess in a way, we kinda fixed each other.”

She smiled brightly. “Yeah. I guess we did.”

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Lord Huron – The night we met (Piano Version from 13 Reasons Why)~

M, one minute, all it took,

For you to read me like an open book,

And now one minute’s all I need

For your sight my soul to feed.

***

The café buzzed with life. I’d never been here during rush hours. It looked pretty busy, seeing as it wasn’t a very popular spot. But I guess the coffee was really that good. So good it had made enough of an argument for me to bring Dawn here for our first half-date.

I looked over at her to find her sipping on her latte, her eyes distant like she was thinking about the same thing.

“Would you have believed it back then?” I asked, and she didn’t need to ask further question in order to understand what I was talking about.

“That I’d be sitting here with you months later as your girlfriend?” she pretended to think about it. “You know, as odd as it may sound, I didn’t completely reject the idea. Maybe I was in some sort of denial. But there was always this pull. Ever since that night we met. On the stadium. I think I sort of knew I wasn’t gonna be able to resist you all along. But don’t get too cocky about it.”

“Me?” I snorted. “Cocky? Please, Dawn. You know me better than this. I can’t get cocky. I’ve always been cocky. Ever since that night, like you so kindly reminded me.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and I chuckled, growing a little more serious. “Look at us, nostalgic like an old married couple. Reminiscing about the night we met? God, remember that? The whole feeling? What that first minute felt like?”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, but I could see a faint blush coloring her cheek as her eyes sparkled in the sunlight creeping through the window. “The fireworks. The cold summer air. Your shadow in the bleachers. The smoke. The urge to punch you.”

I placed a hand over my heart, pretending like I was hurt. “I thought you said there was a pull. Dawn Lovelace. Which one is the lie and why are you toying with my heart like that?”

She scoffed at my dramatics. “There was a pull. But I hated your guts. What do you know? Stranger things have happened.“ She grinned like she was letting me in on a secret. “People do have a tendency of falling for things they aren’t supposed to fall for. I guess simplicity is overrated.”

“So basically, you just loved to hate me,” I summed it up, and she gave a small laugh, looking up at me through long lashes.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Ariana Grande & Rihanna – Into you/Needed me (mashup)~

N, cause never I’d have thought

You would get me so distraught.

N, for how nervous I’d be

Each time you’d stand in front of me.

***

“Okay, next one. What are comets made of?”

“I know this,” she jumped up and down on my bed, clapping excitedly. “Frozen ice. Carbon dioxide, methane. And…” She closed her eyes, furrowing her brows in deep concentration.

“Come on, you got this,” I encouraged her.

“I know,” she snapped at me. “I got this. It’s, umm… Ammonia! It’s ammonia. Boom, owned.”

I laughed at her and flipped the page. “Good job, babe. Next one. What’s the temperature…”

“Hot,” she replied shortly before I could even get through the question, taking the papers from my hand and shoving them away in a way that was very unlike her. “Very hot. Definitely hot. Really hot.”

I gulped, taking her in. Pupils dilated, ruffled hair, white legs emerging from under his shirt. I knew this Dawn. I was scared of Dawn, because it was a Dawn that knew how to let go and I found I often had a hard time keeping up with that Dawn.

“Are we still talking about the sun and nebulae?” I asked in a small voice and she offered a wicked smile, lying on her back and placing her feet on my lap, tracing my thigh with her toes and making my skin turn into goosebumps beneath the fabric of my jeans.

“Not really, no,” she said in a low voice. That low voice. I already knew her moods. Knew her games. I knew where this was going. She could go from 0 to 100 real quick and I’d have no time at all to adapt to her pace. It was disconcerting, how fast she could unnerve me. One might think the roles would be reversed, but they weren’t, not at all. It was precisely because I knew Dawn all too well, each step she took out of her comfort zone put me farther away from mine. It was an odd mechanism. And one I hadn’t gotten accustomed to just yet. And to think we’d been dating for over half a year.

I cleared my voice and tried yet again to be the reasonable one. What the fuck was even happening?

“Babe? Remember that final you have tomorrow?”

“Yup,” she mumbled, her wide eyes set ablaze. I wasn’t gonna win this. Though, technically, I wasn’t gonna lose much, either. All on the contrary. Why was I still fighting it?

“And, umm, remember you still have to quiz me for my Civil Procedure test, too?” I tried again as her hand found the hem of my shirt and started playing with it teasingly.

“Yup,” she said, a little out of breath, her face deliciously flushed. Oh, I was in it badly. “Why? Am I distracting you?”

Yes. “No. Not at all.”

She slipped her hand beneath my shirt, tracing the skin on my abdomen, dragging her nails across it every now and then. Dammit, to think I used to get so bored of girls after a couple of times, if it even came to that. And it often didn’t. Half a year later, Dawn still managed to fuck up my brains with just one touch. Each and every time.

“So,” she let her lips find my ear and I could feel her smile against my skin, “about Civil Procedure…”

“Fuck that,” I growled. My hand found her waist and we rolled over as my lips attacked her neck. Civil Procedure and Astrophysics be damned, her giggle was enough reassurance I didn’t need anything else.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers – Young~

O for how often I’d find

Myself thinking I’d gone blind,

Cause how can two eyes spark such flame

To put the night sky stars to shame?

***

June, 2017

We were falling into a routine of some sorts, but I loved it. We had our sunrises, every now and then. We went for walks when it got too much and I’d listen to her talk about stars. And we made it a point to find some time to sneak into Ross’ office at night for midnight picnics, with Drops of Jupiter in the background.

All those constellations she kept talking about as if I had any fucking clue what the hell she was saying shined in her eyes. But I kept listening, because I liked to hear her talk, opening up to me in ways I’d have never imagined her to.

Whatever. I still didn’t care about all those stars. I looked over at her. Somehow, those eyes of hers shined brighter, bright enough to put them all to shame. And I’d done that. I was the one who made her so happy. And I could never grow tired of the sight. It felt like the greatest accomplishment I could brag about.

***

P stands for that part of you

That still wants to get a tattoo,

And for the pages in my book

That you so swiftly overtook.

***

“Are you 100% sure about this, Dimples? It ain’t henna paint this time. This one’s gonna stick.”

She fidgeted in her seat and let out a loud sigh. “Just get it over with before I change my mind.”

I put the needle down, looking up at her with eyes wide and dead serious to let her know this was no joke. “Dawn, I’m serious. If there’s a chance you might change your mind—“

“I won’t,” she cut me off. “I’m just nervous. But I’m sure about it. Ink me up.”

I sighed and searched her face. Indeed, she looked nervous and her hand was shaking a little in anticipation, but I’d seen people who made the decision impulsively and ended up regretting it. I knew Dawn well enough to know she made no choice without giving it thought. A lot of thought. If she said she was sure, I believed her.

I got to work and she flinched a little when the needle started piercing her skin. But since it was pretty minimalist, it didn’t take long. When I was done, Dawn studied my masterpiece and let out a small gasp. I held my breath, not sure whether it was a good gasp or a bad gasp. 

“So? Is it what you wanted?”

She looked up at me and smiled brightly. “It’s exactly what I wanted. It’s perfect. Thank you, Paul.” She winked at me. “Guess that’s one more thing I can cross off my bucket list.”

I smiled and took her hand gently in mine. There, on her ring finger, rested a small star that she could easily hide with a ring if she chose to. It was so perfect for her it was absurd. It was small, but significant for her and her choices in life. Out of all the good and the bad tattoos I’d seen people choose to get, hers was actually pretty damn nice.

“Then that makes it one more thing I can cross of mine,” I said and brought the knuckles to my lips, kissing the small star.

***

Q is for how quick I fell

Hopelessly under your spell,

And for how quiet you would be

That first night you spent with me.

***

“So, you and Dawn are still going pretty strong, aren’t you?” Pete sipped on his coffee, smiling at me inquiring.

I smiled, not even bothering to hide my satisfaction. “I’m more shocked than anyone. She put up with me for almost a year now. And counting still. I think she’s planning to keep putting up with me now that we’re going to San Diego.”

“Wow,” Pete chuckled. “Quite a shock indeed. You guys have come pretty far.”

“Greatest fucking mystery of my life, my dude. But I’m not complaining.”

He shook his head. “The greatest Paul Rixon, fallen under the spell of one simple girl.”

I pointed my finger at him. “You and I both know the Lovelace sisters are anything but simple, Nolland. It’s a great offense to pretend so.”

A smile of his own crept on his face, letting me know he was just as whipped as me. “True, I’ll give you that. But come to think about it, it’s pretty admirable that you managed to get past Dawn’s skepticism and to end up saying that you’ve been dating her for so long. Huh. You should write a book. How to be a douche and still get the girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “Package offer. Comes along with How to be a nerd and still get the girl. Two for the price of one.”

Pete took another sip of his coffee to hide his smile. “Dick.”

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift – All too well~

R was for red lips, red dress,

Rosy cheeks and breathlessness,

It’s for the reasons I’d compose

Why I wanted to see more of those.

***

June 15^th, 2017

“Holy shit,” I blinked at her, and she simply laughed, shaking her head at me as if I were a kid flooded with awe by things she found all too simple. But there was nothing simple about that dress. Hadn’t been back then. And definitely not now, either.

“If I recall, that was your exact same reaction back then,” she commented and I let out a breathless laugh.

“I said what I said,” I whistled. “You look… like a dream.”

She rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide her blush. “A nightmare if you don’t get inside the car and drive, Rixon. We’re already late.”

I laughed, but still listened to her and climbed inside the car, with her, a nightmare dressed like a daydream, if that’s what she preferred. I almost ran a couple of red lights and almost ran over a few dogs and an old lady because of having her in my passenger seat, red as sin with that dress and that lipstick and those flushed cheeks. I knew I was supposed to focus on Lily’s party and making her 50^th birthday special and all that. But with that dress in sight again, I couldn’t help but think that sometimes, Dawn and I should just take off into a fucking sunset like in those stupid movies and never look back. Just me and her. And that fucking dress.

***

S for searching my whole life

For love cutting deep as knife,

And for senses you lit up

When you climbed inside my truck.

***

She turned on the radio and started singing off tune to some Taylor Swift song. Of course she would. Just like that night in Montana. I looked over at her and smiled so wide my face hurt.

They say that, when you know, you know, and I’d always laughed about it with Pete. They never tell you what you’re supposed to know. Well, I thought as I looked at her. Maybe you do know some things after all. You do know. When you have it right there, in your passenger seat, jamming to a silly song, crazy beautiful and amazing enough to make you love her so much your heart can barely hold it.

***

T is for how many times

We took chances and crossed lines,

And for that time, the first of all,

When I let myself fall.

***

I reached over and took her hand in mine. I stroke it absent-mindedly for a few seconds, running my thumb over her little star on her ring finger. Then I raised it to my lips and placed a sweet kiss on her knuckles.

“Hey.” She turned to look at me, her eyes inquiring, and I shot her a smile. “I love you.”

***

U for how unique you are,

Tuning me like a guitar,

A small universe of your own,

Made of light and stars alone.

***

Her eyes danced in the light of the sunset as she asked, “Not that I mind. I mean, I love you, too. But where’s this coming from?”

***

V is for your voice like bells

That a million stories tells,

And yet one above them all,

You and me, still standing tall.

***

“You know, we made it,” I said instead of an explanation. “A whole year almost. Against all odds, we made it this far.”

“We did,” she said proudly. “Against all odds. You keep saying that, you know. Over and over again. Like you can’t get over the shock that we did, in fact, make it. Did you really give us no chance?”

“No, no,” I hurried to reassure her. “That’s not what I mean. It’s true that I can’t get over the shock. The shock that I’ve met the one girl who could make me stay when all I’ve ever known how to do was run away. And I’ve stayed, for you, and I’m still here, against all odds. You know, Dawn, you are everything I never knew I always wanted.”

***

W for words we never need,

For the way my soul you read,

And for those words we uttered first,

So awkward, so shy, so rehearsed.

***

“You’re not allowed to be here.” Dawn looked at me a little confused, so I hurried to clear that up. “That’s the first I think I said to you. That night on the Kezar Stadium, on the Fourth of July. Remember what you said?”

She smiled, her eyes dancing with tears that she thought she was hiding so sly. “Neither are you. I said ‘Neither are you’. I was there, Paul. I remember it all too well.”

I looked at her and smiled, like we were right back there again. And she looked back at me, understanding, because almost a year later, we were finally in tune.

***

Y, for you and all you are,

Freckles, smiles, the best by far.

Youth and joy and yours my soul.

I was half. You made me whole.

***

This was it, I thought as I got closer to the mansion. It was June now. In August, she’d leave for San Diego for me to follow her in the fall. Our future was coming and it was coming fast and I couldn’t wait for it. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. Without her, I couldn’t be half the man I could be by her side. This was it. This was as good as it gets.

***

Zoom in to the day that she

Waltzed in here and set me free.

Zoom out to this book I wrote.

I was disease. She was my antidote.

***

~Dawn’s POV~

Paul looked at me with eyes so bright they blinded me. And it scared me because he looked like that light was my reflection alone, and I didn’t know if I was worthy of that pedestal he put me on. Like he’d been sick and I’d saved him. Like I was the antidote to whatever poison had rested on his lips. I wanted to deserve the love he showered me with. He thought I made him whole, and that I made him a better man, and that I’d set him free. But he couldn’t see. Couldn’t see that he’d offered me freedom, too, a different type of freedom altogether, and I could never go back to how it had been before, not after knowing the sort of life I had by his side.

He blinked back the emotions before pulling in into the driveway. Whatever our moment had been, whatever feelings had been messing with our heads this whole ride, tonight was about Lily. We had a life and a full future to make googly eyes at each other. I tried to shake off the feeling that it felt a little bitter-sweet. It wasn’t like it was our last night or something.

But as Paul pulled into the driveway of the Anderson mansion, it sure felt like it.

Blue and red lights blinded us where earlier flushed cheeks and teary eyes had been instead. Paul stopped the engine and climbed out of the car reluctantly, and I followed shortly, my heart in my throat.

Paul ran to the closest policeman and I tried to keep up with him in these murderous heels. I got there just in time to hear it. That sound that would follow me for the rest of my days. That guttural sound of despair that came out of Paul’s throat as he sank to his knees. He started panting and trying to breathe in, but he only managed to choke as his hands searched for something to hold on to. My own hands gave him that. He gripped them so tight I thought he was gonna break my fingers, but I didn’t even whimper.

“Bring him a paper bag, anything,” I screamed at an officer. “He’s having a panic attack. What happened?”

The policeman ran to grab a bag for Paul to breathe into as his partner looked at Paul with pity in his eyes and then back at me. He inhaled deeply before replying.

“It was his uncle. Ross Anderson was shot in a robbery earlier today. His wife, Mrs. Lily Anderson was taken to the hospital just now. The doctors believe she suffered a heart attack from the news. We’re very sorry.”

I blinked. Tears threatened, but I held them back. Paul started breathing into the bag, still shaking, but not as bad as before. His eyes stared into the distance, out of focus. I gripped his hand back until my knuckles turned white, because that’s all I could offer right now.

I thought about earlier, and all those weeks of bliss we’d spent together. Our future. Paul’s bright eyes and how proud he was of himself for being something he thought I could be proud of. And I remembered that one line from The Kite Runner. They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.

 

 

Hey, guys! So, I’m not even gonna apologize for a long-ass chapter, because if you made it to the end of it, you probably agree with me that it was worth it lol. I hope so, anyway. Welcome to the end of 27 looooong pages. Fun ride.

Fun fact: the poem was also written by me, and long before Poison and Wine was anywhere in my sight. But when I went back and read it again, I realized it was perfect for Dawn and Paul. You can find the original poem (and more!) on my blog, at dixiepoetry.wordpress.com

I really really hope you enjoyed it. It was fun to write and I enjoyed every second of it. Plus, it’s our last happy chapter now that shit went down. Oops.

Stay tuned! I can’t promise I can update too soon now that finals are here, but I’ll try my best to keep you updated.

Lots of love,

xoxo

25: Chapter 22: Never let me go

CHAPTER 22 – NEVER LET ME GO

~SOUNDTRACK: X Ambassadors – Unsteady~

~Paul’s POV~

I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating, my throat closing against the air that was trying to push through.

Ross. Ross who took me hiking. Ross with the pep talks. Ross with the lectures and the pat on the back. Ross taking me in when my parents died. Ross who talked me through my first panic attack when I learned of their deaths. Ross who was there every step of the way. Ross who knew just how to guide me. Ross whose smile I’d never forget when I got into Law School. Ross who winked at me while Lily was freaking out that I was getting a part time job as a tattoo artist. Ross. The closest thing I had to a father. The one who’d been there for me.

He was there. He was always there.

And now he wasn’t.

 “Paul!”

Oh God. Oh God. It was the same shit all over again.

“Paul!”

The sirens. The lights. The radio static. Police. Exactly the same.

“Paul, breathe.”

Was it me? Was there something about me that put the people I loved, the people who cared for me, in the path of death? I kept choking on air, feeling my whole body shake uncontrollably as every drop of my steadiness fell prey to despair and the panic attack ate at everything I’d been building with so much hope up until now. Too much hope.

“Paul, come on. Come back.”

First my parents. Then Ross. Now Lily. Was I not allowed to have a home?

“Come back to me.”

I raised my eyes to her and my hand found hers instinctively. I gripped tight and lowered my eyes to where our fingers laced. I couldn’t tell if the tear stains on her dress were mine or hers. I raised my eyes again and held her gaze. She begged, but I couldn’t hear her. She pleaded, but nothing registered. I saw her lips move, I saw tears roll down her cheeks, and I wondered, was it worth it? Was it worth putting her through the same hell I couldn’t get out of? Every attempt I’d had at a home had been taken away from me. I felt like a fool for allowing myself to hope I could build one with her. There was no such thing for me. Just empty houses that people kept leaving.

“Come back to me,” she repeated, and I took one deep breath, feeling my lungs finally expand. I coughed, my chest burning, as I collapsed into her arms, crying and cursing at whoever had allowed me to be so happy right before taking so much away from me.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into my hair, her shoulders shaking from crying, too. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

We sat there in the mud for God knows how long. The police evacuated the guests. Then they left, too. Rain poured around us. I was cold, and Dawn must have been, too. Yet I couldn’t move and her grip on me never faltered. She kept saying ‘it’s okay’ like she demanded for it to become true by sheer will-power.

“Dawn,” I whispered eventually as she stroked my hair.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving. I won’t let go.”

“Dawn,” I repeated, the pain slowly being replaced with pitch-black, cold numbness. “Ross.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“Ross is dead.”

She flinched, this time falling quiet, but holding me even tighter.

“He can’t be,” I let out a humorless laugh. “He’s not dead. I spoke to him just this morning. We had lunch. I fixed his tie. He can’t just be gone.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

She kissed my temple and I hid my face in her chest, letting out a groan. Then another. And then a piercing scream as she just shook with tears. And another scream, and another. I punched the grass and the mud and I cried as it all went down the drain once again.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Ed Sheeran – Afire love~

The hospital lights were blinding and I remembered how much I hated them. I rested my head in my hands, massaging my eyes lazily hoping I could whisk away the clouds of this headache. It was like there was a ticking bomb right below my eyelids and that my brains were going to explode any second now. But I didn’t sweat it. I knew the feeling. It takes a little while getting used to the idea that your whole life is getting fucked up big time.

The click of Dawn’s high heels had me looking up and I saw her making her way to me. I stood up and shoved my hands in my pockets. I saw her eyes size me up with worry, but I was all out of energy to tell her she didn’t need to waste the shadow of a thought on me anyway. I was a dead man walking. It was only a matter of time. I knew myself all too well.

“Well?” I asked and cleared my voice when I realized how broken it sounded.

She pursed her lips. “Well, he said he’s pretty concerned about your well-being first, before letting you see her. And honestly, Paul—“

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you and the doctor think about my well-being, Dawn,” I snapped and watched her flinch at my words. Well. A matter of time. Like I said. “What did he say about Lily?”

She blinked rapidly and I could practically watch her come up with ways to excuse my behavior. ‘He’s just hurt’. ‘He’s in shock’. ‘He didn’t mean that’. Well, funny thing is, I did. Yet again, this pitch-black, cold numbness.

She cleared her throat. “She’s stable, but irresponsive. They said it might be the shock, and that it might take a while to go back to… Well, seeing as she’s been through…”

I sighed. “Get to the point, Dawn.”

She pursed her lips. “She’s catatonic, Paul. She doesn’t eat, doesn’t talk. It’s like she’s comatose, only her eyes are wide open. The doctor said it’s normal and that she might recover, given time.”

I pursed my lips, feeling the urge to snap at her. I resisted it. None of this was her fault. She was only trying to be there for me. But she couldn’t have known that there for me wasn’t a good place to be at the moment.

“Might,” I spat the word. “But she might not.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Paul—“

“Can I see her?” I cut her off, not in the mood for yet another pity party.

She just shut her mouth and nodded slowly and I moved past her. I knew I was being unfair. I didn’t particularly care. I made my way down the corridor, remembering how much I loathed hospitals. I associated them with death, since the only times I’d been in a hospital had been to say goodbyes. In some of the nightmares I still had, I often heard the deafening beep as they failed to resuscitate my father. I saw the inside of Ross’ chest as he pulled me to him when they took mom away in a body bag. It was all an endless cycle.

I made it to Lily’s room, feeling Dawn close behind me, but keeping her distance. I hated how well she handled this, how well-composed and sane she was. It reminded me that I had none of my shit together and I didn’t deserve the shoulder she wanted me to cry on.

My breath caught in my throat when I first saw Lily. She was sitting up in bed, her hands folded in her lap and her head turned to look out the window, but she didn’t seem like she was really looking. Her eyes were unfocused, her mouth in a straight line and she was almost white with pallor. I cleared my throat. If only for her sake, I had to at least fake having my shit together. I even tried putting on a smile, but my cheeks hurt and it felt like a little too much. She didn’t need cheap theater. She needed her nephew to remind her she wasn’t alone yet. In the back of my mind, a shadow of my conscience with the voice of Dawn reminded me I should take my own advice, but I shut it out.

“Hey, aunt Lily,” I pulled a chair and sat by her side, taking her hand. She didn’t move a muscle. “Heard you’ve been giving these guys the silent treatment, huh?”

No response. I felt Dawn lingering in the doorway and I turned to her, too desperate to even hide behind snarky comments and snapping.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” she whispered and disappeared out the door. I wanted to beg her not to go. I wanted to tell her I needed her more than ever. But it just didn’t feel right to add more to the burden this was all becoming. So I let her go and I turned back to Lily, urging myself not to break down and cry again like a weak little fucker.

“Come on, Lil,” I drew in a sharp breath. “At least look at me so that I know you’re still here. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I need you. I can’t do this alone, aunt Lily.”

Still no response, and I was slowly losing my shit. I wiped my eyes, which had obviously betrayed me in the process. When my parents had died, I hadn’t cried at all. Not once, in all those years. I’d kept it all in, bottled up, locked with a dozen keys so that those feelings never bothered me. And right now, they were all crashing down on me like a hurricane. And I couldn’t stop it. No matter what I did, it just wouldn’t stop.

“Hey,” I squeezed her hand. “Remember those wild years of mine, back in high school?” I forced a smile, though she wasn’t looking my way. “Remember how frustrated with me you always were? Ross gave the pep talks, but you with your head shakes and disappointment glares and your guilt trips, you were an assassin. You were like a mother to me, Lily. More than I could hope for, more than I deserved. And Ross, too.” She flinched at his name and I clung to this small hope. She was in there. She just didn’t want to come out and face the reality. That she’d just lost the love of her life. “And this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker. For both of us. So I need you. You and I only have each other now. So, I’m begging you, aunt Lily. Come back to me.”

A small tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t move a muscle. I waited for five minutes in silence for her reaction. When that didn’t come, I kept talking. I reminded her the story of how she and Ross had met. Of how he’d proposed to her after one month of dating and she’d told him straight to his face that she didn’t love him. How Ross promised her he’d love her enough for both of them. How he kept his promise and how he’d made sure he won her heart day by day, for 30 years. I talked to her about the true love she’d lost and the hole in her life she’d have to fill. I walked her through memories and hoped that, at some point, she’d join me through the journey.

But half an hour later, she still hadn’t moved. So I faced the fact that I was in this on my own. If Lily wasn’t ready to come to terms with reality, I couldn’t force her. This was her coping mechanism. I knew a thing or two about those. So I stood up, sighed and kissed her forehead, walking out of her salon, wondering how the hell I was gonna plan a funeral and still manage to get through this in one piece.

~SOUNDTRACK: Banners – Start a riot~

I found Dawn in the hallway, pacing back and forth, waiting for me. Her eyes fell on me when she caught sight of me, worried and careful. For some reason, the image of her made me angry. Not at her, but at myself, knowing that this, this side of me, this Paul, was more than what she’d signed up for. At myself, for knowing I’d push her away when all she wanted was to offer me comfort. Not that I knew what to make of that.

She took my hand when I stopped in front of her, pursing her lips and tilting her head to one side like people did when they tiptoed around you just before asking how you held up.

“How are you holding up?”

There it was. I exhaled loudly and ran my hands over my face, suddenly feeling more exhausted than I’d ever felt.

“Just peachy,” I snapped. “I’m having a blast, really.”

“Paul—“

“Forget it, Dawn,” I pulled my hand from hers, starting to walk past her. “I need to be alone right now.”

Without waiting for her reaction, I moved past her, feeling as if I were slowly suffocating in here. I strode down the long corridor, leaving Dawn behind, secretly holding a wish that she’d follow me, but willing her not to. I hoped she was smarter than diving into the lion’s cage when he’s in a mood.

I didn’t stop walking until I made it outside and I was greeted by the summer night air. I had hoped it would fill my lungs and help me breathe at last, at least for a little bit, but it did nothing of the sort. It was like drowning, and I could see the surface, but no matter how much I tried swimming and how much I struggled, I just could never break it. And I wasn’t sure how much fight I still had in me.

I wanted to scream again. I wanted to never stop screaming, but I remembered I was, in fact, in a hospital. I ran my hands over my face, suddenly feeling the need to crawl out of my own skin and leave all of this behind. Everything. Every single thing that kept tearing at me like I was supposed to be made of impenetrable marble. When all I could and knew how to be was paper thin.

So instead of screaming, I let my body have its way and slammed my fist into the nearest wall. Then again. And again, until I heard my knuckles snap and the physical pain was the first thing I felt since I got out of that car with Dawn to be met with sirens and words I couldn’t, didn’t want to make sense of. I drew back bloody knuckles and welcomed the pain as a reminder I was still here, still breathing, still kicking, still all too humanly broken.

I ran my hands through my hair, unable to keep still for more than half a second. I made my way to the nearest store and bought myself two packs of cigarettes, then lit one up the moment I walked out. I put it between my lips and drew the smoke inside my lungs like my life depended on it. I was instantly sick and ran to the nearest trash bin and threw up my guts under the judging glares of by-passers. Guess I was out of habit. I hadn’t smoked in quite a few months, since Dawn hated the taste of cigarettes on me. She hadn’t demanded that I quit smoking, but it felt like the natural thing to do. And with her, there wasn’t much else I needed to fill whatever void I felt like filling.

Except this one.

I fought through the nausea, perseveringly smoking four more cigarettes. Yeah, I was going through both packs tonight. I made my way to the car smoking one after another and leaving a trail of finished cigarettes behind me.

I found Dawn standing by my car, her hands crossed against her chest. I leaned on the hood by her side, watching her eye the cigarette warily. Must have been my sixth, maybe seventh? I’d lost count. I braced myself for the lecture, or at least the wrinkle of her nose when the wind blew the smoke her way. But none of that came. Instead, she just stood there quietly, waiting for me to break the silence.

Yet again, I found myself loathing how well she handled this. She gave me the exact amount of space required for such situations. She said neither too much, nor too little. Her whole stance was by the book. She was the perfect girlfriend right now and I knew I was being a dick. But maybe that’s why I was so bothered by the whole thing. Maybe I needed her to be at least a bit of a mess so that I wouldn’t feel so low about being one. Her perfectly well-kept composure unnerved me.

Talk about ungratefulness. There she was, ready to catch me if I leapt from the edge I was standing on and I was being a little shit because I would’ve wanted her to jump with me if I decided to. How pathetic was that?

I sighed. “I know I should apologize right now,” I finally broke the silence and I felt her tense by my side. And it occurred to me that maybe, maybe, this whole composure thing was a façade she kept for my sake, and maybe the situation was taking its toll on her, too. I felt even more miserable for finding joy in that. “I know I’m being a dick.”

“Paul, you have—“

“Don’t tell me I have every right to,” I cut her off, closing my eyes and shoving my hand in my pocket when she reached for it. “I don’t. This isn’t a stage of grief. This is me being a fucking coward and crying uncle. And I should apologize. But I can’t, Dawn. At least not yet. I’m gonna be a complete bastard and you’ll be entitled to hate me. I just—“ I sighed, allowing the nicotine and the night air and the pain get the best of me and to let a small admission crawl up from the depths of my insides. So in a small voice, I admitted, “I just don’t know how to let people be there for me. I don’t know how else to grieve. And if you tell me you understand, Dawn, so help me God.”

The corner of her mouth twitched as if she wanted to flash the ghost of a smile but couldn’t find the will to. And I realized how this worked, finally. When one of us couldn’t, the other one just had to. Because I took my hand out of my pocket and brushed hers gently, intertwining our fingers. It occurred to me it must have been the same for her, just on a larger scale. If I couldn’t cope, she found a way to cope for both of us.

“I wouldn’t understand,” her voice broke a little, but she cleared her throat and forced that smile after all. “I’ve never lost anyone, Paul. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through. And I want to, I’m trying to, trust me. I wish I could carry you so that your shoulders would never have to bear this weight. And I know I can’t. I know you need your space. I know you need to figure out a way to cope. That, I can manage. Just don’t push me away. And whatever you need me to do, wherever you need me to be, I will. Just say the word.” She paused and gazed at me through wet lashes. “Whenever you’re ready, right?”

I cracked a small smile. Well, when she put it into words I recognized, she made it sound almost easy. With her. And I wondered if it was even possible for me to get through the next few days, the funeral, the pitiful gazes, the pursed lips, the pats on the shoulders without her hand to hold on to. Maybe even her small shoulders were enough for me to lean on, if only for a little bit, in spite of my pride. I just hoped I’d feel the same way tomorrow morning, when I’d be standing in front of a mirror dressed in black, in broad daylight, without the dizziness from half a pack of cigarettes in my system and without the night summer air being the only one to bear witness.

“Hey,” I whispered into her hair as she rested her head on my shoulder. “I just need you to promise me one thing.”

“Hmm?” she looked up at me.

“Don’t let go.”

This time, she sat up fully, frowning at me like I was asking something utterly absurd to begin with, so I explained.

“It’s gonna be a tough one, baby,” I admitted in spite of myself. “I’m gonna want to run. I’m gonna want to just drop everything and let it all go. You gotta stop me. Don’t let me walk away.”

She blinked at me a few times, her eyes filling up with tears. She squeezed my hand tight and hid her face in my shoulder. I suspected she was making it a point not to cry in front of me, at least not openly, to stay strong and let me do all the crying I needed to do. I’d never loved her more.

“Yeah. I think I can manage that,” she whispered in a broken voice and I wrapped my arms around her. And we cried together, cheek to cheek, nose to nose, chest to chest, until we ran out of tears. And then we went home and braced ourselves for what was bound to be the worst day of my life.

26: Chapter 23: A change in the weather

CHAPTER 23 – A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER

~SOUNDTRACK: Frances – Don’t worry about me (with rain in the background)~

~Dawn’s POV~

It rained the day we led Ross Anderson on his last journey. It felt like the universe’s way to say goodbye to him, for it had robbed us of a great man and maybe even the sky had a right to mourn him.

Paul and a few of Ross’ business associates carried the casket towards his resting place. Paul’s face was unreadable. The rain soaked him to the bone and I couldn’t even tell if he was crying. It didn’t look like it. I feared he’d run out of tears. And while it pained me to see him hurt and that scream of his still haunted my sleep, this stillness of his scared me more. If he were broken, I could maybe fix him. But if there were nothing left there but an empty shell and dusty cobwebs, I didn’t know how to begin filling that void. I knew how terrified of loneliness Paul was. And I wasn’t sure if I was enough to reassure him. If I was enough at all.

I walked slowly, pushing Lily’s wheelchair. There was mud on her blanket and on her shoes, but she didn’t seem to mind much. I tried making small talk with her. Offering her condolences. Trying to cheer her up. Talking weather and how Ross would’ve wanted today to be bright and sunny and for none of us to shed a single tear. But truth was, I had no idea what Ross would’ve wanted. I had no idea how to make anything better. What to tell Lily, how to help Paul. Truth was, I felt utterly useless.

They let down Ross’ body into the ground. People cried and the rain kept falling. I saw Paul’s shoulders shake. His cheeks were wet, and I couldn’t tell the tears from the rain. His teeth were gritted and his knuckles were white from how hard he was clenching his fists. How I wanted to take all of his pain away. I wanted to cry his tears. I wanted to scream his screams. I wanted to hurt in his stead so he would never have to again. I wanted to keep him sheltered inside my heart so he’d never have to watch a single brick in his walls crumble down. I wanted to let him know he had a home to come back to.

Me.

I just hoped he knew how to find the way back.

I patted Lily’s shoulder, though I was sure it made little difference, and moved to his side as the preacher started talking.

“’For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s’. Romans, 14:8.” He paused and searched our faces. “Let us cry today, for the Lord has taken from us a man of great value. A man we shall always carry with us for he has touched many of the hearts and spirits of those who are with us today. But let us not dwell in pain. Ross Anderson was one of those people the Lord smiles upon and it showed, for everything he did, he did with his whole soul. And in death, I am certain the Lord smiles upon him still. Let us say goodbye, knowing he is indeed, undoubtedly, resting by the side of our Lord and Savior, watching over our steps and waiting eagerly for the day we shall meet again.”

I gave Paul’s hand a small squeeze and he squeezed it back so hard it hurt a little. But I didn’t let out a single whimper. I didn’t dare. If breaking my hand was what he needed right now, I could stand here, by his side, my bones at his mercy. Anything to wipe away that look on his face, of utter disgust as the preacher spoke of eternal life and lands up above where the grass is greener, when down here there was nothing but ceaseless rain and mud.

He didn’t tear away his gaze when they started shoving dirt over Ross’ casket. He clung to my hand for dear life and I dug my nails into his arm to ground him, to remind him I was still there and I wasn’t letting go. Just like I’d promised.  He kept still as they filled that hole in the ground slowly, erasing all trace that Ross Anderson had ever been here, all except for a tomb stone with his name on it. Beloved. That’s all it said. And sure, it was true. Ross had been loved by his wife, dearly, and by Paul, who looked up to him like a father, and I was sure there had been plenty people who shared the feeling. But it felt like the word didn’t begin to cover the essence of a human being. And suddenly I remembered what Paul had confessed to me back when he’d taken me to his parents’ tombs. How easily it is to be forgotten. I wondered if this was what he was thinking about as his uncle became nothing more than a name written on a piece of marble. But one look at him, and I knew for sure that’s what he was thinking about.

People left one by one. Rain kept pouring. Paul didn’t move a muscle for so long I’d lost track. Lily’s nurse took her away. The preacher came to pat him on the back and offer some more insightful advice and religious coping crap I was pretty sure Paul would’ve told him where to stick, had he been the least bit his normal self. But he was nowhere close to that. He was still in that numb state that terrified me. Like he was surrounding himself with barbed wire and high impenetrable walls that kept me out. But yet I stayed. I’d promised him. I’d promised him. I was staying. I wasn’t letting him go. I wasn’t letting go. Never letting him go.

“You can go,” he said eventually, his eyes never leaving Ross’ tomb stone. All the flowers people had brought had been soaked by rain and mud and now just looked like a perfect metaphor for how his death felt like. Or must have felt like, for those who knew first-hand pain upon his death. All I had was Paul’s pain, and it was still a lot to handle. I couldn’t begin to imagine how heart-wrenching it must have been for him to live with that.

I shook my head, blinking around the raindrops on my lashes.

“I’m good,” I replied. “Take your time.”

He sighed and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice as he spoke. “You don’t have to do this, Dawn. I’ll be fine. You can go. I don’t want you catching a cold or something.”

I squeezed his hand even harder. “No,” I replied stubbornly. “I’m staying here with you until you’re ready to go inside. However long it may take. Whenever you’re ready.”

I looked up and smiled at him as I repeated the mantra, expecting at least a change in his features, at least an acknowledgement that he wasn’t in this alone. But when he looked back at me, it was like he didn’t even recognize me. His face was clouded with something that rather resembled disgust and annoyance. I nearly flinched and stepped back, but I stood my ground. I stood by my promise. I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t afraid of this side of him. And I wasn’t letting him go.

“Just go, Dawn,” he snapped a little. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’d rather be alone right now. So please. Go home. I’ll meet you there.”

I bit my lip reluctantly and he pulled his hand out of mine, sighing.

“If this is about last night, then don’t worry,” he said without looking at me. “I’m not gonna run into the night just like that at my uncle’s funeral. I just need a minute.”

I wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t sure if leaving him alone was the right thing to do. But the way he put it and the way he shielded himself from me, there was no reason for me to be here. He’d made that abundantly clear. So I swallowed against the lump in my throat and nodded. Then I walked to the car, leaving Paul alone with his uncle’s tomb and his thoughts. I knew as I walked away that had been the wrong choice to make.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Ron Pope – A drop in the ocean~

I waited and waited. Until everyone left. Until the nurse took Lily upstairs and put her to sleep, then left, too. I waited until night fell and the house was empty and Paul still hadn’t come. I paced back and forth for hours, pondering whether to go back to the cemetery to see if he was so sadistic as to stand there for so much time, or to start calling hospitals and police stations looking for him.

But at some point in between my ponderings, the front door opened and Paul walked in, stumbling on his feet. I would’ve assumed he was drunk, except the look of utter exhaustion, the red puffy eyes and the tight line of his mouth suggested it was just part of the grieving process. Maybe he had indeed stood at his uncle’s tomb for so long. That didn’t put my worries at ease.

“Hey,” I stood up from the armchair, making my way to him. To my disbelief, he held a hand up before I could reach him, scoffing. A pang of pain shot through my body like an electric shock. What could I do when he kept pushing me away like this? How could I drill through the concrete walls he’d put around himself? How could I get to him?

“You should’ve gone to sleep. Or even better, home,” he mumbled as he made his way to the liquor table and poured himself a giant glass of bourbon. But I wasn’t giving up so easily. I took a deep breath, feeling even more left out as I talked to his turned back.

“I waited,” I spoke slowly, in that pathetic low hurt voice as I hunched my shoulders. He didn’t turn around as he replied.

“I noticed. You should’ve, is what I’m saying.”

I cleared my throat, in a lame hope I could hide the tears in my voice. “I just thought… I figured you wouldn’t want to spend the night alone. Figured you might want some company.”

He braced his arms against the table, his shoulders tense. Eventually, he sighed and picked up the glass, still not turning to face me. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted to be alone? Figured I’d made myself clear.”

I tried to ignore the lump in my throat and the painful twist in my stomach as the words left his mouth and pierced through the air, bleeding all over the walls and on the inside of my eyelids, sharp like a stab through my ears. But I ignored it all, ignored every instinct that shouted at me and every fiber in my body he’d hurt, because I was sure he was sure he was hurting more. Him saying he didn’t need me just proved how much he needed me. Or maybe he did mean it and I was clinging to a fool’s hope, believing there was still a place for me by his side. Maybe I was fighting for a lost cause. But I wasn’t ready to face even the remote possibility that I was useless and that I held on to broken pieces.

So I made my way to him, faced his back turned to me and I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Paul,” I whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to be brave when you and I both know you’re nowhere near that. And you sure as hell don’t need this to make it through the night. I’m here. And I’m not leaving.”

I reached for the glass of bourbon, closing my eyes and hoping he’d let go of the glass and turn to me instead. But my wish was short-lived, because before my hand could even make contact with the glass, he shrugged off my hand from his shoulder violently and turned to me abruptly. I took a step back instinctively and he sent the glass flying until it shattered into the nearest wall. I flinched, the sound of glass breaking playing on an endless loop in my head. Somehow, it held more meaning that a simple glass of bourbon fallen prey to Paul’s rage.

“Stop trying to save me, Dawn,” he yelled in my face, and I forced myself to stand my ground and not give him the privilege of pushing me away. “Stop trying to save anything. Not everything can be saved and there sure as hell isn’t anything left to save here. So do yourself a favor and leave.”

I swallowed hard and blinked back the tears, meeting his rage with plain stubbornness. “Let me be the judge of that.”

He let out a humorless laugh and ran a hand over his face exasperatedly. “What even gives you the right to be the judge of how I feel or how I handle my shit? Why are you so eager and so fucking dead set on jumping in and fixing me?”

“Because I promised,” I yelled back before I could think the words through. “Because last night, I promised you I wouldn’t let you chicken out and fall down this path of self destruction. Because I love you and I promised I wouldn’t let you forget that you love me too, dammit.”

I heaved, wiping angrily at the tears that had found their way down my cheeks against my will. For a split second, I saw his mask break and I allowed myself a glimmer of hope that I’d gotten through to him. That not all was lost. But the moment was over before I could enjoy it and his eyes went back to being empty and emotionless as a look of almost disgust fell over his features. And I finally knew how it felt like when the earth seems to crack open, about to swallow you whole.

“Consider yourself released of that promise,” he extended his arms and let them drop.

“It’s not that simple,” my voice broke, and he replied fast.

“It is. There. It’s gone.” He took a step back, away from me, holding his hands up. “I can’t be fixed, Dawn. I’ve seen this movie. I’ve been through this shit before. And I’ll spare you the shitty in between and skip right to the end of it.”

He took another step. Then another one, and another one. To the end of it. My knees buckled and I clenched my fists tight, digging my nails into my palm to keep me grounded. To the end of it. The end of it. He kept walking backwards, his eyes on me, like he was begging me to stop me just so that he could tear me down so casually cruel yet again. Because we both knew I couldn’t make him stay. I wasn’t enough. None of it was enough to stop him from walking out that door. And still, because I was a fool and so stupidly in love with him, I tried.

“Don’t go,” was all I could bring myself to say through the tears. He laughed mockingly, and I could’ve sworn his eyes danced in tears in the moonlight, but that couldn’t be, could it? If that were to be, then he would’ve stayed, wouldn’t he? If that’s how he felt, he wouldn’t have just left me here, alone, in the dark, when all I wanted was to bring him even the smallest glimmer of light, right?

But then he just shrugged. Like it was no big deal. “It’s not that simple,” he repeated my words from earlier.

And just like that, he walked out the door. And like an invisible thread that kept me tied to him, as soon as he cut it, I crumbled to my knees and cried myself to oblivion.

 

 

Hey, guys!! I know this chapter’s tiny compared to what I usually give you, but there’s only so much pain I can put my babies through. And you’d be sadistic to want more of this.

Bad news is, we’re almost finished here. I only have like 3 more chapters and an epilogue left and brace yourself, it’s gonna be an emotional roller coaster. And since we’re closing in, how about a little reminiscing? Who’s your favorite character? What’s your favorite moment or favorite chapter? Or least favorite, for that matter? What are you going to miss the most?

I’m looking forward to seeing your answers!

Lots of love,

xoxo

27: Chapter 24: The things we (never) said

CHAPTER 24 – THE THINGS WE (NEVER) SAID

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers – Bloodstream~

~Paul’s POV, July 1^st, 2017~

Days blended into each other. I lost track of time and of bottles of beers and of packs of cigarettes.

I hadn’t been home in God knows how long. I couldn’t. The house was big and lonely and all too quiet. I spent my time in bars and drunk on benches in random parks and crashing the places of people I didn’t know. I’d lost my phone somewhere in the rush and hadn’t bothered to check in with anyone to let them know. Who could I check in with? Half of the family I’d had was dead. The other half was catatonic. So as cliché and fucking stupid it was, I drank to forget until I forgot what I was trying to forget.

Yesterday, I’d woken up in a broom closet of the bar I’d partied in the night before, reeking of alcohol and vomit. So this was what rock bottom looked like. I’d wandered the whole day, practically walking from one side of San Francisco to the other one and back again. I was hungry as hell, but couldn’t really keep anything down, so I forced myself to eat a hot dog that I threw up in a trash bin not ten minutes later. In the evening, I went back to the bar. I had a routine by now. I was on autopilot and it was the best decision. If I turned everything off and let it all go numb, I wouldn’t have to think about things I didn’t want to think about, or feel things I didn’t want to feel. I drank it all away until I couldn’t remember my name again. Until the moments started feeling blurry and the memories faded, both the sober ones and the drunken ones.

And that’s how this morning I woke up in a bathtub. When the sunlight hit my eyelids, I groaned and rolled over to throw up. Like I’d said. Routine. I lay back in the bathtub, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

“Wow,” I heard a voice from across the bathroom and I flinched in surprise, the motion making my body ache.

I opened my eyes and found Pete leaning against the sink, watching me with pursed lips and utter disappointment written all over his face. I groaned and looked around, finally recognizing the bathroom.

I was home. Somehow, my drunk stumbling had led me home. I guess there was only so much even my subconscious could handle.

“That’s a new look on you,” Pete admonished me. “I mean, showers and cleaning up and sobriety are overrated anyway.”

I ran my hands over my face again, fighting off nausea. “Fuck off,” was all I offered.

“Oh, I would,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d be happy to. Except there’s this really inconvenient thing called caring about your moronic friends that had me kinda worried when I haven’t heard from you ever since Ross’ funeral. It’s been two weeks, Paul.”

I flinched. I hadn’t even realized it had been that long. A part of me felt the stab of guilt as I imagined what Pete must have been through, not having heard from me for two weeks, half expecting to get a phone call to let him know I’d turned up dead in a ditch. But then I shut it out, remembering I no longer cared for shit.

So flipped Pete off and repeated, “Fuck off.” I peered at him from between my fingers, frowning. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

He sighed, nearly defeated. “I came every day. Me in the mornings, Dawn in the evenings. We kept hoping you’d show up.”

I flinched at Dawn’s name. Somehow, she’d been the one memory I blocked more than Ross’ death and Lily’s state themselves. I couldn’t bear the memory of her, standing in my living room, clinging on to the hope that she could save whatever was left of me. Of us. Crying and begging me to let her help me. I couldn’t deal with that. I knew full well why I was running and what I was running from.

“You’re wasting your time,” I told Pete. “Both of you.”

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Come on, Paul. Don’t be like this. You gotta pull your shit together. We’re here for you, you know. If you don’t snap out of it for you, at least do it for Dawn. I know you care about her. She’s been going crazy, not knowing where you’d run off to. Do you really want her to hurt like this?”

I glared at Pete, feeling the need to get up and punch his teeth out. But that would have meant dignifying him with a reaction and I didn’t want to get his hopes up believing I could really “snap out of it”. It didn’t work like that. Pete should’ve known better. He’d seen me at quite some rock bottoms throughout the years.

“I want her to be happy,” I replied. “No matter what that means. And right now, that ain’t with me. So believe me, she’s better off like this. She’ll get over it. You, too. Go ride into the sunset with Hurricane and leave me the fuck alone. The only reason why I’ll get out of this tub is to find another bar and drink my brains out.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my back on him in the bathtub, knowing full well I looked like a pouty little kid, but I didn’t give a flipping coin. Whatever got Pete out of my ass. Eventually, I heard him sigh, pacing back and forth and debating before walking out, leaving me alone with my nausea, my thoughts and a bottle of Jack lying on the tile floor by the bathtub. Yet somehow, I didn’t think this was over.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Neighbourhood – Baby came home~

At some point, I’d fallen asleep. I woke up around dusk, maybe, when the sky looked almost orange and through the window came a chilly breeze. I groaned and finally got out of the bathtub. Pete hadn’t come back to bother me, so I guess I’d been wrong. This was over after all. It felt almost too easy. I stumbled to the sink and got a glimpse at myself in the mirror. I almost flinched. My beard had grown and my eyes were red, making me look like a stoned homeless person. I was pretty sure I smelled like one, since I couldn’t remember for how long I’d been wearing these clothes. I wasn’t surprised to realize I didn’t care. I splashed some water over my face and figured it was enough. Grabbed the bottle of Jack on my way out and walked away without a second glimpse around. This house felt haunted anyway. Not by ghosts or lingering spirits, but by a big pile of absence. Lack of footsteps that used to be, lack of laughter that used to be, lack of voices, lack of pep talks, lack of knocking on my door to bug me when I wanted to play the brooding teenager, lack of anything whatsoever that wasn’t this deafening silence. I couldn’t be here. It was like the air pressure was too much for my lungs to expand properly now. I just had to get the fuck out.

But I should’ve known it couldn’t be that easy. I knew Pete better than this. He couldn’t just give up like that.

So I don’t know why I was so surprised when I walked out of the bathroom and found Dawn leaning against the wall right in front of the bathroom door, sitting on the floor and watching me with wide eyes while biting her lip so hard I was sure she drew blood in her mouth. Of course Pete had called her.

I hated the way my breath caught in my throat. She looked like a Greek tragedy. Her eyes were red and puffy, she looked exhausted and vulnerable and miserable and still so fucking tragically gorgeous it made my heart ache and beg to come back to life. My hands twitched to reach for her. And then I remembered the guy I’d just seen in the mirror and I put him next to her, a heartbreaking sight fallen out of my wildest dreams, and the images just didn’t fit. And I suddenly remembered why I’d decided to stay away from her.

“You shouldn’t have come,” was all I could say to her, my voice sounding hoarse and broken. She shot me a sad smile.

“You keep saying that like it’s gonna make me stop coming.”

“It should,” I raised my voice. “I don’t want you here.”

She stood up, wiping away at a rogue tear. “And you keep saying that like it’s gonna suddenly become true.”

She tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away abruptly, stepping backwards like her touch burned.

“And you keep saying all that like you know better,” I spat. “Like you know so well, don’t you? Like you can tell exactly what I mean and what I don’t, what’s true and what’s not. It’s honestly not that complicated, Dawn. In how many different ways do I have to spell it out for you?”

She swallowed hard, her bottom lip trembling. She bit it to stop it. “You told me—“

“Jesus Christ,” I ran my hand over my face. “How long are you going to keep throwing that in my face? Stop trying to find hidden meaning in everything I tell you. I’m not a high school girl for whom no means yes. If I tell you I don’t want you here, then I do not want you here. So how about you mind your own damn business?”

She stared at me, as if waiting for me to break into laughter and fall into her arms and tell her this was all a cruel joke and that I did, in fact, need her like the air I breathed and that she could put me back together like a puzzle. But you can’t put together a puzzle with pieces missing. It just doesn’t work that way. I could find the path to self-destruction on my own. I didn’t need her around to remind me that.

“Paul—“ she tried, taking a step toward me, but I stopped her.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I laughed humorlessly. “Dawn, I’m a grown man. I can do whatever the hell I want to. And if what I want is to drink myself to oblivion, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do and I don’t need you and Pete to keep watching over me like some all too righteous guardian angels.” I extended my arms. “I inherited an empire, Dawn. I’m fucking rich like I would’ve never dreamed of. And I’m a free man. Excuse me if I don’t feel like moping around and crying about my feelings over ice cream. Does that clear things up for you?”

She didn’t reply. She just let the tears fall down her cheeks. I think I could pinpoint the exact moment when she understood and gave up. I could tell because the look in her eyes started matching mine. She stood perfectly still, not bothering to hide her crying. Her hands stopped reaching for me and she clenched them into fists. Her lip stopped trembling. She just stared at me with that blank expression in her eyes I’d seen earlier in the mirror. It terrified me. But maybe it was for the best.

“Alright, then,” she replied after a while, her voice sharp and articulate, making me flinch. “Then there is no reason for me to keep fighting on my own. I can’t hold on if you’re letting go. So go ahead, Paul. You go away, if that’s what you want. And you don’t come back.”

Every word of hers pierced through me like a fiery blade, but I couldn’t back down right now. I’d made the right choice. I had nothing left to give her. So I turned my back on her and walked away without a word. Two weeks ago, I’d heard her break down and cry as I walked out the door. And I’d spent ten minutes on the porch, my back against the door, listening to her cry and looking for something, anything in me that could be awoken so that I could go back inside and fix things. I’d found nothing. Right not, I walked slowly, listening closely. I didn’t hear a single sob. I could just feel her watching me leave silently, as if she were making sure I wasn’t coming back for real. I added that stillness of hers to the pile of things that were lacking. That’s how you know all the hope’s gone and that you’ve lost something for good. When all it leaves behind is aching emptiness.

I reached my car and climbed inside. And before driving away, I caught sight of Dawn’s scarf in the passenger’s seat. Somehow, she kept leaving it behind. I picked it up slowly, feeling the silky fabric softly with my fingertips. I brought it to my face and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and picturing her by my side by the sheer power of her smell.

And I knew then I’d made the wrong choice. Because where Dawn had stood, there could never be an empty place. The only problem was, where I stood, there was nothing but void.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift ft. Gary Lightbody – The last time~

That night, my steps carried me through San Francisco all the way to Dawn’s dorm. I didn’t know why and I didn’t know how. I’d tried to drink her right off my mind. I knew I couldn’t go back on my word and that I had to let her go in order for her to be happy and in order for me to cut all ties. But no amount of bourbon could erase her. She was always there, in the back of my mind, free falling through the void I’d become, her voice piercing through all the screaming resonating through my body.

So as soon as the alcohol started making the calls for me, it made me stand up and jump into the first cab, making my way towards her. I stumbled up the stairs, everything I saw in the back of my mind being her, standing behind that door. I didn’t know what I was gonna tell her. But I knew I needed her to hear me.

I somehow made it. I counted the stairs, the steps, the doors until I made it to the massive mahogany door with the number 78 on it.  I took a deep breath and shook my head. Suddenly, the blurry vision and the dizziness and the nausea became a little inconvenient if I wanted to convince her of… whatever I wanted to convince her.

I raised my hand and knocked twice. My knees went weak. I rested my forehead against the hard wood. Dawn must have been sleeping. I should’ve thought about that beforehand. But that didn’t matter. She needed to hear me and she needed to hear me now. I knocked again, harder. Still no answer.

“Dawn?” I hit my head against the wood slowly, feeling my airways tighten. “Dawn, open up, please. I gotta talk to you.” I heard movement behind the door. Subtle shifting, but in the dead of night, with the utter silence around me, it was unmistakable. She was there. She just didn’t want to see me. I turned around and sat on the floor, my back against the door and my head in my hands.

“Please, Dawn,” I repeated, not even sure she could hear me or if there was any point at all. “Open the door. I just need to see you.”

“Go away, Paul,” her response came quickly from the other side of the door, from right next to my ear, so I figured she was mimicking my position. “You made yourself clear.”

“I didn’t,” my voice broke. “I don’t – I don’t know if I did. I don’t know anything. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.“ I paused and drew in a shaky breath. “Please, Dawn, just let me in. I just wanna talk.”

I felt and heard her palm slam against the door. “What else is there to say? Your point came across. Loud and clear. Go home, Paul. There’s nothing left for you here.”

I gulped, praying that wasn’t true. “I love you,” I said in a lame attempt to make it better, though I knew that justified nothing. “I just need you to open this door. That’s all I’m asking.”

Silence fell on both sides of the door. I waited for minutes. I thought she’d gone back to sleep and I realized I was gonna sit outside her door for the entire night. Or at least until the alcohol was out my system and I realized how bad of an idea this was. Not for me. I was already too far gone to be careful with the ways I kept breaking my own heart. But if, while sober, I decided again to walk away, I’d just keep hurting her all over again. But before the last remains of my conscience could talk me out of it, the door opened.

I stood up so abruptly I made myself sick. Before I could steady myself, my feet gave up on me and I fell forward. Dawn stepped back, letting me crash to my knees at her feet. I groaned and pulled myself together, sitting on the floor like a dog, looking up at her to see her disgusting expression and the hands she kept at her side to stop them from either shaking or from strangling me. I couldn’t tell.

“You’re drunk,” she stated, and could I deny it? I was wasted. Shame fell over me like a thick curtain. “The nerve on you,” she spat. “You walked away, Paul. You lost every right to turn up at my door in the dead of night, disgustingly drunk.”

“I, I know,” I mumbled, wiping the drool from my mouth and struggling to stand up. She watched me with arms crossed over her chest, making no move to help me. Not that I expected or deserved her to. Eventually, still unsteady on my feet, I managed to stand before her, looking her in the eye. And for a tiny second, under her gaze, I sobered up like under a cold shower.

“Why are you here?” she asked me and the question made my head spin. I wiped my eyes and shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t be. I don’t know anything anymore.”

I saw her hands twitch and I smiled to myself. So she wasn’t as composed as she pretended to be. Just incredibly stubborn. Which was nothing I didn’t already know about her.

“I can’t do this, Paul,” she shook her head, letting a small tear fall. “I tried to. I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what it is that you need. And I’m afraid that, in the end, it isn’t me. And you see, that’s where I’m stuck. Because if you didn’t need me, then why would you be here? But if you do need me,” she paused and sniffled, “then how can we get over the fact that you keep walking away from me when things get tough? That you won’t let me get close to you?”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, not sure how to respond this. It didn’t make sense to me either. I had no clue why I was even here. All I knew was that I loved her more than I’d ever loved anything. More than I’d ever thought it was humanly possible to love another human being. And that she deserved better than this mess on her doorstep. And that I was too selfish to let her go just yet.

“So what is it, Paul?” she extended her arms and let them fall by her sides. “What do we do now, you and me? What happens now? Which one is it gonna be today? And what about tomorrow? Because I swear to God, I love you and I wanna be there for you, but I’m exhausted. I can’t live like this, with this crippling anxiety of now knowing what’s gonna happen next and worrying that tomorrow you might decide again that I’m not enough for you.”

And something inside me snapped at seeing her like this. I fell to my knees in front of her, on purpose this time, and I wrapped my arms around her. I felt her shake with tears and my shoulders shook with silent crying in sync with hers. I felt her hands hovering over my head, but she never touched me. I held on tight to her legs, hoping it would keep us both from walking away when the night faded away and the spell wore off.

“You’re enough,” I whispered. “I know you are. You’re more than enough. But I’m not.”

She exhaled shakily. “I don’t know how I can be enough for both of us, Paul. I can’t do this alone. I can’t pull you to the surface if you keep going under.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, burying my face in her belly. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know how to come back from this. I never wanted this. I don’t know how to make it better.”

She stayed silent for a while and we both cried until we ran out of tears. Eventually, I looked up at her, but she was looking straight ahead, like I wasn’t even there.

“Dawn—“

“Get out,” she cut me off, and the blood froze in my veins. My grip on her weakened. “You said it yourself. You’re disgustingly rich and you don’t need me. God knows I tried, Paul. But now I gotta protect myself from you. So I’ll spare myself the pain from tomorrow and ask you to leave tonight before you make the choice for me again. So please,” her voice broke, “just get out.”

I unwrapped myself from her and stood up. I wiped my eyes and inhaled deeply. I searched her face for a reason to stay, but found none. Eventually, I nodded and turned my back on her. I walked out of her room, hearing her pace back and forth. I walked slowly, clinging to the hope that she’d follow me like in some sappy movie, that we’d kiss and drive into the sunset. But part of me knew that this was for the best. I was sobering up enough to know that Dawn had made the best choice to let me go, because there was nothing for her to hold on to.

But as I thought about that, I heard her footsteps behind me.

“Paul!”

And I knew I should have been happy that she’d followed me. That I should’ve come alive with the hope that maybe we’d be okay. But the alcohol was wearing off. And I was going back to that pit of despair even she couldn’t pull me out of. And I knew we were just putting off the inevitable.

I turned around and found her staring at me with a puzzled look on her face, like she still wasn’t sure what the hell she was doing.

“Umm, Lily had me and Pete throw you a surprise birthday party,” she blurted out, and I just blinked. “I know it’s not a surprise anymore and that you probably don’t feel like partying, but I couldn’t bring myself to cancel it. So,” she took a deep breath, “if you still want, we can talk then. And we’ll see. If you’re willing, I’m willing. We can give this one more shot. Just… show up at the party. Tuesday at 8, in my dorm room.”

I pondered. Putting off the inevitable. I should’ve said no, on second thought. After all, as I’d realize later, my mind had already been made up from long before, but I couldn’t bring myself to spell it out. But this was Dawn, and despite everything, I was still madly in love with her. So I kept putting on the inevitable.

“I’ll be there.”

 

 

One more chapter, one more excerpt and one more epilogue to go. It’s almost over, y’all. Stay tuned and thanks for sticking around!

Lots of love,

xoxo

28: Chapter 25: It was the Fourth of July

CHAPTER 25 – IT WAS THE FOURTH OF JULY

~SOUNDTRACK: Son Lux – Lost it to trying (instrumental version)~

July 4^th, 2005

The Rixon family always went on road trips on their son’s birthday. They said it was because Paul shared a birthday with U.S.A. But not on the same year, Paul’s dad liked to joke, at which he and his mom would roll his eyes. He cracked that joke every year. But maybe it was part of a beautiful routine. He cracked that joke, they got in the car and drove away, watching the 4^th of July fireworks somewhere else, someplace new every year. Paul felt like the whole country was throwing him one giant birthday party. And an epic one at that.

It was the evening of the Fourth. They were on their way to Florida, singing to Cotton eye Joe. Benjamin Rixon had a funny voice he always used when this song came on that made Theresa groan in feigned agony and young Paul giggle uncontrollably. The Rixons were a dorky family, which made these road trips all the better every time. It was the one thing in the year that Paul looked forward to even more than the Christmas morning. Just the three of them in a car, singing silly tunes, with the open highway ahead of them and endless possibilities of destinations. And who was to say? Paul remembered thinking that, once they’d run out of places to visit in the U.S.A., they’d start having his birthday all over Europe. Now that was a nice thing to be excited about.

But then, Paul saw it. He saw the truck first. He screamed.

“Dad, look out!”

In the rearview mirror, he saw Benjamin’s face contort with sheer terror as he pulled the steering wheel, trying to avoid the impact. The truck moved past them in an irregular line, which even Paul could tell it only meant the driver was either asleep or drunk.

It’s almost funny how, in the point of maximum intensity, where the adrenaline rush reaches its peak, everything becomes so much clearer. Everything moves in slow motion. Paul would later relive vividly every single second before the impact. The car spinning a few times. His dad screaming as he kept trying to regain control. Her mom hitting her head against the window because she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Her body flying back and forth, left and right in the car as her husband kept trying to steer it right. And then, the tree.

Paul banged his head against his dad’s seat, but he came to senses soon enough. Must have been the adrenaline. He heard his dad wheeze, calling his name in what he could tell was a painful effort. Paul groaned. He looked around. At least it was over. They must have all been pretty banged up, but at least they weren’t moving anymore. They could catch their breaths.

He looked around and his breath caught in his throat. Right ahead, the wind shield was broken and through it, his mother had been thrown halfway out. There was blood everywhere, oh God, so much blood. How could anyone still be alive with so much blood out of their body? His eyes widened. Unless…

“Hey, hey, Paul,” his dad followed his gaze and tried to reach into the backseat, but cringed and choked in pain, instead settling for catching his eye in the rearview mirror. Paul flinched when he saw how bloody his whole face was. “Listen, champ.  You gotta be brave, okay? You gotta make it out of here and live to tell the tale.” He wheezed again, coughing some more blood. “I know, I know it’s scary. Hey, don’t look, champ. At me, keep your eyes at me. Your, your mom wouldn’t want you remembering her like that. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll meet her again and tell her you love her.”

“Dad, no,” Paul cried and cried.

Benjamin coughed violently. “Don’t worry, Paul. You stay strong, you hear me? Where I’m going, it’s a better place. And I’m sure your mom’s already waiting for me, wondering what took me so long.”

“Dad, no. Please, don’t leave me. Dad, please.”

Paul saw a tear linger on his dad’s cheek, making its path through dry blood. “Come on, champ. Don’t make,” another cough, wheezing and heaving, “don’t make me sorry I’m going. I need, I need to know you’ll be okay. That you’ll stay strong. I need to—“

He stopped mid-sentence. Paul looked at him in the rearview mirror.

“Dad?” he whispered, but he knew it was useless. His father’s eyes stared back at him, dead and empty. So Paul broke down and cried himself into oblivion until help came. And then he never cried again. At least not until death came knocking again at his front door, claiming some more people that he loved like it was simply collecting the souls that Paul had come to cherish.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Fall Out Boy – Fourth of July~

July 4^th, 2016

Paul sat in the bleachers of the stadium, alone, smoking his way through an entire pack of cigarettes. Ever since 11 years ago, he’d spent the 4^th of July on his own. Even Lily and Ross couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t a day he liked to share with other people. It was like this sorrow was the only way he allowed himself to remember.

The fireworks went off. He looked up and took another sip of the flask he’d filled with vodka.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” he whispered to himself while lighting up another cigarette.

He’d long since given up on thinking the Fourth of July fireworks were his own national-wide birthday party. 11 years ago, he’d felt like all those bright lights and loud explosions had been mocking him. Like the country could still party even if Paul didn’t feel like it. Nothing stayed still when you needed a moment to catch your breath. You don’t get that privilege. Life goes on and you’re left having to jog to catch up with it. It waited for no one to pick up the pieces. And he’d found that the fireworks went off every year the same way, with little concern for a random boy’s birthday or for some random parents’ death anniversary.

Paul sighed and took another sip of vodka. He hadn’t been depressive in a long while. Lily and Ross had been supportive and had carried him throughout those bad years. He was better now. Not depressive, but numb. He didn’t bother explaining it to his aunt and uncle, or even to Pete, because there was no point in worrying them or in having them fuss over him in an attempt to fix this, too. This was just something he’d have to live with. The reality that he wasn’t going to start feeling a thing anytime soon. And he was fine with it. Feelings are shit. Feelings get you to care about people just to have them ripped from your side.

So Paul was stuck. Numb and empty as a shell, watching fireworks from deserted stadiums and drinking to his own sake instead of a proper birthday. Drinking to his parents’ sake instead of a proper memorial.

And then he saw them. Two girls looking for trouble. And since he was trouble himself, he had to let himself be found.

And then he met Dawn Lovelace. And the back of his head lit up like a firework show, setting fire to all the numb corners of his being like he’d never have thought possible.

And he dared to hope he could still find a way to come back alive. If he allowed this girl to lead the way.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Chainsmokers – The one~

July 4^th 2017

Paul felt sorry he was gonna miss the fireworks this year, he thought as the cab took him to the airport, feeling the same numbness he had only one year before.

“Are you sure about this?” Pete asked from the backseat.

Paul sighed. “No. But it’s the right thing. We talked about this, Pete.”

He scoffed. “You talked. I listened. And I still disagree.”

“Duly noted,” Paul said in a flat voice and Pete tried, really tried to drop it. He disagreed, but it was Paul’s choice and it was his duty as a best friend to accept it. Paul had been through a trauma. Again. That did things to a person’s head. He was supposed to let Paul cope the way he thought was right. But he was also Dawn’s friend. And that meant he wasn’t exactly okay with breaking her heart on Paul’s behalf.

“She’ll be devastated, Paul,” he tried one last time. “She worked really hard for this party. And she got her hopes up about you guys patching things up. And I know for a fact she picked out a killer birthday present—“

“Pete,” Paul snapped at him. “No offense, dude, but none of that’s really your business.”

Pete sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s the thing, man. You’re kinda making it my business. So I’m not really sure I’m following. Paul, it’s been three weeks. I know you’re hurt about Ross’ death and about having to send Lily to a nursing home. And I don’t wanna sound heartless about your pain, man, but don’t you think it’s time you found a way to move on?”

The cab stopped, Paul paid the driver and they both climbed out, taking the luggage from the trunk.

“I am,” Paul eventually replied. “This is me moving on. I just don’t think I can involve Dawn in the process.”

“She may not be here anymore by the time you get back.”

Paul nodded, pursing his lips. “I know. I wouldn’t ask her to. And I know this looks like running away and that it’s pathetic. And I might live to regret this choice someday. But you know me, Pete. I can’t put Dawn through my shitty moods and I can’t ask her to put up with me like this. She’s above all that shit. So instead of putting this off and ending it after one or two or three or ten months of crap, I’d rather I end this now. Clean break. I gotta get my shit together and I can’t do that here.”

“Who are you trying to convince here?” Pete asked. “Me? Or yourself?”

Paul sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, I guess. I keep hoping you might talk me out of it, though I know I wouldn’t hear you out. It’s a fucking paradox. But the thing is, Pete, if I go to this party and I see her again, I know I won’t be able to bring myself to walk away. I’ll change my mind again. And she doesn’t deserve this, man. This on and off thing, this anxiety of not knowing how we’re gonna be tomorrow. So it’s better for everyone.”

“Again, Paul, I’m not the one who needs convincing. And you know I’m not with you on this one. But I have this annoying tendency of respecting people’s choices. And of granting them the tiny privilege of making their own choices before making them for them.”

He shot his best friend a meaningful look and Paul scowled. “Consider your point made.” He flashed the ghost of his smile and extended his hand. “Goodbye, Pete.”

Pete took Paul’s hand and pulled him into a tight hug, patting his back. “Bye, dickhead. Have a blast in Europe or whatever.”

Paul barked a laugh and picked up his luggage. “You know what to do, right?”

Pete simply nodded once, then watched as his best friend walked away. He sighed. Whatever Paul was looking for, he hoped with his whole heart he ended up finding it.

 

***

~Dawn’s POV~

~SOUNDTRACK: Taylor Swift – The moment I knew~

He should’ve been here.

The room was filled with friends of Paul’s I wasn’t really familiar with. But they all knew what he’d just been through so they’d gone out of their ways to make it to the party and to be there for him.

Except he was the one who wasn’t there.

I’d borrowed another dress from Mandy. It wasn’t the red dress he was so crazy about, but I figured I’d been overusing that one. Though this one was pretty close. Black, tight, backless, revealing enough to still be decent while making his head spin. I’d even pulled my hair to one side to let my back bare, waiting for only his hands to rest there.

So where the hell was he?

I checked the clock again. It was already 8:30. Maybe he was just running late. Maybe he’d forgotten. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail.

He should’ve been here.

“Calm down, pumpkin,” Mandy winked at me, chugging down a glass of champagne. “He’ll be here. I bet he just likes to make an entrance.”

He did. But somehow I felt it, deep in my bones, that this wasn’t the reason.

He should’ve been here.

I sat down as the clock showed 9 o’clock. People were running out of patience and some of them had even headed out, saying they still had places to be by the end of the night. And could I blame them? It all started to feel pointless. The Star Wars decorations. Cheese cake, which was his favorite. The black dress. The dry red lipstick on my lips. The smudged mascara from the tears that were threatening to rain down on me. And a black whole opening up in the middle of my chest when realization hit me. He wasn’t coming.

Suddenly, the room seemed to tighten around me and the air became hard to breathe.

“Dawn?” I heard Aria call my name vaguely, like I was underwater. “Are you okay?”

Without answering or waiting for someone to see me break down, I rushed out the door and ran until I couldn’t hold it in anymore and leaned against a wall, hyperventilating and letting the tears stream down my face. I don’t know for how long I sobbed when I saw a pair of feet through the tears making their way toward me.

I looked up, with an expression that must have been full of hope, because all I saw were Pete’s shoulders dropping at my sight. We just stood there, staring at each other for minutes, him with his hands in his pockets unsure what to tell me, and me still crying.

I sniffled. “He said he’d be here,” I said helplessly, breaking into another waterfall of sobs, and Pete simply sighed, his whole posture going limp with something that looked like disappointment.

“Oh, Dawn,” was all he said.

And I just couldn’t take it anymore. Whatever he knew and I didn’t, whatever he was gonna tell me, whatever speech he was going to deliver, I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t ready to handle that. So I ran past him and didn’t stop until I made it outside. The fresh air filled my lungs and made them burn. A gentle summer rain poured down, but like summer rain often did, the drizzle was quick to turn into a real hurricane. I kept running in the rain until my feet gave up on me and I collapsed in the driveway, sitting in the rain, on the cold hard ground, crying in a black dress meant to impress someone who wasn’t even here.

I heard Pete come back for me and crouch in front of me like he was approaching a skittish cat that was bound to run under a car.

“He said he’d be here,” I repeated with the same helplessness as before, like saying it might have made him show up after all.

“I know,” Pete screamed back at me to cover the howls of the storm. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll explain everything.” I started shaking my head like a stubborn kid, but he just caught me by the shoulders and met my gaze forcefully. “Dawn, come on. Let’s get you back inside and dry you up and then we can talk, okay? Let’s go.”

He pulled me to my feet and practically carried me back inside. He put a blanket around me and I waited in a corner, with my eyes out of focus and raindrops still leaking from my hair as he kicked everyone out.

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Halsey – Sorry~

Pete simply sat in front of me and searched my face. Whatever he was looking for, I could guarantee wasn’t here. There was nothing here anymore. Eventually, he just sighed and fished an envelope out of his coat, dropping it on my lap. I looked up at him almost scared.

“Is that—“

“Yeah,” he replied when I wasn’t able to finish the question. “I’m sorry, Dawn. I’m sorry it had to be like that. Do you want me to give you a minute alone to read that?”

I shook my head violently. “No, that’s fine. I can’t be alone right now. And I’m glad you had Aria and Mandy leave. I can’t handle their coping advice at the moment.”

He shot me a small smile and folded his hands in his lap, giving me space and silence as I opened the letter.

Hey, babe.

I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I’m sure you threw the best fucking party San Francisco has ever seen and one I most definitely didn’t deserve for being the dick I am right now.

I had to leave, Dawn. I couldn’t stay another damn second in that city, suffocating, choking on all the ways I’m gonna let down Ross, Lily, Pete, you. I’m not who you fell in love with right now. I’m in some dark place I gotta crawl out of on my own. And I know that you, poor soul, would be willing to soak in shit along with me, but I can’t do that to you. The past three weeks have been hell and I’d rather not put you through more of that. I can’t ever see your face so filled with pain and soaked in tears like the other night. You deserve better.

It was a mistake. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. You and I, we never stood a chance. Remember how I told you we’re a lost cause? Turns out we really were. It was only a matter of time before I found a way to fuck up. And I know you’d take my crap and forgive me time and again, but ask yourself, is this really what you want for us? For yourself?

I want you to know that I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything in the way I loved you. Maybe I still do. I don’t know. I can’t feel a thing. I’m numb. I my brain decided it’s had its share of pain, that I’ve already lost too much, and it’s trying to protect me from feeling anymore. I have no fucking clue what’s going on up there anymore.

Don’t wait up, Dimples. Let me go. Look for someone who’s worthy of you and who understands what the hell you’re talking about when you’re pointing at the sky. Who can nail a soy latte for you. Whose crazy ex one-night stands won’t embarrass you at the library. Who doesn’t run away from you like a coward. I genuinely hope you can find that. Because I could never ask you to wait for me to get my shit together when I have no guarantee I won’t go spiraling down and end up worse.

I hope we’ll meet again, Dimples. And that we can smile at each other and remember about how we spent one perfect year together. Until then, let me go and shoot for the stars. You were meant for them anyway. Never for me.

Paul.

My tears stained the thin paper as I looked up at Pete and he explained about Paul’s journey of self-discovery in Europe. Somewhere in the distance, fireworks went off. It was the 4^th of July. And what had started exactly one year ago on this day died loudly and vividly, fast and blinding, like the remainings of the fireworks falling down from the sky and fading away.

 

Last chapter, y’all. I’ll admit I cried writing it. Stay tuned for the Pete/Aria excerpt and for the epilogue!

29: Excerpt: The man who can't be moved

EXCERPT: THE MAN WHO CAN’T BE MOVED

~SOUNDTRACK: Luke Coombs – Hurricane~

Pete hadn’t seen Hurricane in weeks and it drove him mad.

After Paul’s disaster birthday party, when he’d stayed behind to talk to Dawn, to try to explain to her Paul’s reasons for disappearing like that, to try to ease the pain that his best friend had caused her, Hurricane had ambushed him as he walked out of the dorm. And she’d been ruthless. She’d demanded to know in what hole Paul had crawled into so that she could hunt him down and feed him his own balls. In all truthness, Pete had been a little scared. He’d tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t have it. He thought she blamed him to some extent for Paul’s fleeing. Like he could’ve done something to stop Paul from breaking Dawn’s heart. Pete often blamed himself, too. Maybe if he’d tried harder, none of that would’ve happened. But it was too late now. Paul was gone, Dawn was trying to bounce back from what had been the most terrible few weeks in her life and Hurricane hadn’t answered his calls from that night.

He sighed as he made his way down the street. Well, he’d tried, but there wasn’t much he could do about it if Hurricane shut him out. He tried to find comfort in telling himself he’d known all along this wasn’t meant to last. Hurricane was unpredictable and inconstant as summer rain. One second it’s drizzle, then hurricane. And he was really starting to hate all these hurricane analogies and how well they suited her.

Tonight, he’d decided to put a pause on chasing her for a change. He knew that, if Hurricane had made up her mind, there was no changing it. Maybe he had to start accepting the idea. And what better way to deal with things like that other than drinking? Besides, he had plenty to drink away. His best friend was out on some self-discovery spiritual journey that most likely involved a lot of booze and exotic dancers serving margaritas on the Spanish beaches. Pete was left picking up the pieces of the broken-hearted girlfriend of said best friend. And his own girlfriend blamed him for all of the above. So yeah. He needed a drink. Badly.

He walked inside the nearest bar, purposefully ignoring the fact that maybe his subconscious had led him here because it happened to also his and Hurricane’s favorite place to hang out. Maybe he wanted to run into her, but he ignored that, too. He liked to think he had more of a spine than to stalk her favorite spots just so she could humiliate him in public, too.

He made his way to the bar and sat on a stool, ordering a beer. He could build his way up from there to something stronger. He was so tired of this. Did he ask for too much to have a friend who could cope with the grieving process without feeling the need to flee halfway across the fucking world? A girlfriend who wouldn’t disappear on him every time things got rough and who was like a walking panic attack? Human relationships based on trust and respect and communication?

He was halfway through his beer when he finally caught sight of the group of girls sitting at a table to his right, giving him the eye and whispering not too subtly. At first, he was tempted to feel flattered. Just because Hurricane didn’t particularly care about appreciating him, that didn’t mean other people couldn’t. But then he recognized them.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

Of course. Because that was just his luck. He realized the girls were none other than Hurricane’s best friends. The tall inappropriate one, the cute slutty one and the shy quiet one. Pete sighed. Pick your fighter, Paul’s voice cackled from the back of my head and Pete broke a smile. He clearly stood no chance to enjoy his drink now, with Hurricane’s harem pointing fingers at him. He knew wolf packs like that. And seeing as they were Hurricane’s friends, he knew for a fact they were more like hysterical hyenas rather than cute little wolves.

He managed a little wave and a horrific fake smile their way before paying for the beer and grabbing his jacket. Nothing better than being silently bullied out of your favorite bar to start the night.

And then she walked in. It was predictable, really, since he’d expected it ever since he’d decided to head to this particular bar. But as always, nothing could ever prepare him for the sight of her. She walked in like she owned the place with her stroll, with her sand-colored hair waving around her shoulders and that smile that could light up the place. It was like the whole world stopped for a second to allow Pete to catch his breath and to allow Hurricane to notice him.

And then it was time to hit resume, and it all hit him a little harder than before. It was like a punch in the middle of his chest, knocking the air out of him.

“Hey,” he said a little breathlessly and, to his surprise, she didn’t scowl at him.

“Hey,” she actually replied, so Pete grew a little braver.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Hurricane crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, Peter, it is our favorite place. Sounds to me like you should have expected to see me here.”

Pete actually cracked half a smile. “Sounds like you should have, too. Unless, of course, that’s what you were hoping for.”

Hurricane narrowed her eyes and Pete recognized the gesture like that one that signaled a small victory for him. When she was caught red-handed and she wasn’t gonna admit it. But he took these small victories for what they were. Not a defeat.

“The girls are waiting for me,” she stated, and Pete could read the invitation clearly when she made no move away from him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shot her a wicked grin.

“Didn’t look like they were missing you too much,” he shrugged nonchalantly – at least so he hoped.

Hurricane bit her lip against a smile and, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the bar. Pete didn’t need words for her to let him know she wanted him to follow her. And at least for the rest of that night, he felt a taste of normalcy. He felt like a normal boy in love with a normal girl, rather than a pebble in love with the ocean.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Hook n Sling x Parson James x Betty Who – If you’re hearing this~

It had been six weeks since Paul had left. It was mid-August. Dawn was still a ticking bomb. She had turned down the internship in San Diego, that she’d originally accepted so that she and Paul could be closer to home, in favor of a more advantageous one in New York. All the way across the country. And Hurricane was going with her.

Her parents hadn’t been easy to convince. They’d tried to win them with actual reasonable arguments. A job in journalism in freaking New York was a huge catapult for Aria’s career. It was an opportunity for both of them to build something amazing for themselves. They’d eventually agreed.

What Aria hadn’t told them was that Dawn couldn’t do this alone without destroying herself. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but if the time came when she’d fall apart, she needed a safety net. And being alone across the fucking country provided none of that.

Besides, Aria knew for a fact that she was hanging by a thread. Every night, she heard her. She heard the button click and then the phone automatically speed dial the number. She heard it go straight to voice mail. And she heard every single message Dawn left. And it made Aria beyond worried for her sister, knowing that she couldn’t let this go despite of what a major dick Paul had been, walking away like that. Knowing that Dawn held on to this with all her being, despite of how much it hurt her. And it worried Aria that, if she did let go, the thread would break and Dawn’s wounds were still fresh and raw and she wouldn’t be able to come back from that.

Tonight, when Dawn left the dinner table early and headed straight to her room, Aria knew what she was doing. She sighed at the worried looks on her parents’ faces and followed her. She climbed the stairs and stopped outside Dawn’s door like she always did. Somehow, she didn’t think her sister would’ve wanted someone to hear how weak she was being and how she kept giving in to temptation time and again.

Aria heard her dial and heard Paul’s voice mail through the ajar door. And she heard Dawn draw in a shaky breath.

Dawn cleared her throat before she started to speak. “Hey. It’s me again. I, umm, I don’t know if you’re getting these.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “God, it feels stupid. But, umm, I miss you. Can’t help that. And it kills me that you didn’t even said goodbye. But if you ever hear these messages, I want you to know that I get it.” She sniffled. “I get why you left and the way you left. I’m not holding it against you. So don’t hold it against me if I move on.” She paused to take a deep breath. “This is the last message I’m leaving. I’m going to New York, Paul. Aaron and Aria are coming, too, so I won’t be all on my own. I guess I’m following your advice, shooting for the stars. I’m confident there’s a bright future ahead of me and all I gotta do is chase that and let you go. I love you. Take care and be happy, Paul.”

She paused again, as if unsure whether to say something more, but eventually, she hung up and sat on her bed. Aria pondered whether to give her some space, but she knew that she’d just sob for hours if left to her own devices. So she knocked softly on the door and walked in as Dawn looked up, small teardrops on her lashes.

“You okay?” Aria asked, sitting next to her sister on the bed.

“Not yet,” Dawn wiped her eyes, smiling a small smile. “But I’m getting there.”

Aria rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know,” Dawn sniffled. “I know I’ll survive this and move on. But I don’t know if I’m ever gonna feel that way again. What if this was my great love story and I blew it because I didn’t know how to be there for him?”

Aria pulled back and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Come on, D. You don’t actually believe that. You’re in your 20s. You’re gonna fall in love again.”

“I know that, too. But it’s never gonna be the same. This was it. As good as it gets.”

“If Paul was as good as it gets, you have bigger issues, sister,” Aria huffed.

“You know what I mean. You’re gonna tell me you think you’ll find another guy who makes you feel the way Pete does?”

Dawn looked sideways at Aria, who just gaped at her. “Apples and oranges.”

“Oh, please,” Dawn wrinkled her still runny nose, smiling at her sister. “More like green apples and red apples. Come on, Aria. I know you and I’ve never seen you like this. You keep going about how you wanted to be a quite literal hurricane on him, break him and walk away without a scratch, but you and I both know Pete left some scratches running deeper than you would’ve anticipated.”

Aria averted her gaze and started fidgeting, which told Dawn more than she was willing to admit. “So what if he did?”

Dawn sighed. “So don’t make the same mistake that, umm, Paul did,” her voice broke a little over his name. “You owe it to Pete to at least break it off with him or let him know you’re moving to the other side of the country.” She paused for effect. “Or you could stay here.”

Aria shot her an incredulous look. “For a guy? Don’t be ridiculous, D. You need me.”

“Aria, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. I can’t let you sabotage your shot at something good that could make you happy just for my sake. Besides, I won’t be alone. I’ll have Aaron.”

Aria stood up abruptly, averting her gaze like she didn’t want Dawn to see how much it actually affected her. She knew her sister made strong points. She knew this wasn’t how she’d pictured the hurricane she’d wanted for all this time. She’d always imagined she’d walk away from it like from an explosion, posing with a smug smile, hair flying around her shoulders. This felt more like crawling away and her ego suffered greatly for that. Hurricane Lovelace wasn’t one to hurt from heartbreak.

“Well,” she cleared her throat, looking at Dawn over her shoulder. “Plenty of shots at happiness and hearts to break in New York, too. One more won’t count.”

“Aria—“ Dawn called after her sister as she walked away, but Aria didn’t stop. She didn’t stop until she reached her room, throwing herself on the bed, putting her earphones on and blasting music so loud until she couldn’t her that little voice in the back of her mind anymore, telling her she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Halsey ft. Lauren Jauregui – Strangers~

Pete and Hurricane stood face to face in a room suddenly devoid of air. Eyes stared into eyes. Lips trembled, parted. Hands didn’t reach anymore. Feet took steps backwards. Words died in throats. Hurricane’s dorm room had never felt so small and so suffocating. Aria stood still as a statue, not moving a single muscle while it seemed like Pete couldn’t stop moving at all, constantly fidgeting.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, nearly whispering.

Hurricane didn’t bat an eyelash. “Next week.”

He let out an incredulous, humorless laugh. “And you’re just dropping the bomb on me like that? Like it’s no big deal?”

“It isn’t a big deal,” Hurricane simply shrugged. “We had our fun. But I have to go, it’s the next natural step for me. What do you want me to say?”

“We had our fun?” Pete repeated, raising his voice this time. “Is that what you call it? Is this your way of dismissing everything we’ve been through?”

“Listen to yourself,” Hurricane huffed. “Everything we’ve been through. Pete, we were no Romeo and Juliet. No William and Kate. No Kim and Kanye. No anything. What, you want me to just drop everything, my career and my opportunities just so that I could stay here and cuddle with you and call you pet names?”

“I want you to be fair with me, dammit,” he threw his hands in the air. “For once, this time, be fair with me. Ever since this whole thing started, you’ve treated me like nothing more than a stranger with whom you randomly happened to make out with at random parties. Like I’m not even worth a single glance. And I let you walk all over me because I thought that, at some point, you’d actually realize I am sick crazy about you and that we can build something together. But you never had any intention of seeing me as more than a stranger, did you?”

For once, when Pete paused to catch his breath and to give her a chance to retaliate, Hurricane stayed silent. And she would’ve wanted her to say something, anything. Confirm his theory. Admit that he was nothing more than a stranger to her, with whom she’d never intended to make it this far. But her staying silent was worse. Because it meant he was wrong, and that she felt something for him, too. But she was just not willing to do anything about it.

And suddenly Pete felt like he understood some more of Paul and Dawn’s situation. How are you expected to fight for someone who doesn’t give a worthless penny? How are you supposed to stomp your feet and hold your ground when they’re so willing to let it all go?

She kept staying silent and Pete hated every second of it. He waited. He truly waited and gave her an opening to say anything, but when it became clear that she had nothing more to add, it became crystal clear to him, too, that he couldn’t stick around and let this situation turn into the same Paul and Dawn drama. He owed it to himself to be smarter than that.

“You know what?” he shot her a bitter smile. “Don’t bother. I’ll tell myself I misread things and that I got overly attached and you can tell yourself you did nothing wrong and that you never meant for this to go any further anyway.” He sighed, holding up his hands in defeat. “I know you usually enjoy being the one who makes the dramatic exit, but this time, I’m saving myself the humiliation and walk away first. Goodbye, Aria. I hope your fucking hurricane was worth it.”

And he walked out the door, his words stripping Aria of the power of the hurricane she’d been so proud of. She’d expected to feel more satisfaction than this. But all she felt now was bitter, and there was a tug in the pit of her stomach that pulsated in sync with the lump in her throat. And as Pete’s last sentence played on repeat in her mind, she realized it hadn’t been worth anything at all.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Casey James – Crying on a suitcase~

“I thought Pete would come to see you off,” Dawn commented as they waited in line for the tickets at the airport, but by looking sideways at her sister, she could tell she’d said the wrong thing. “Uh oh. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” Aria played it dumb.

“The look. Like you’re mentally constipated because there’s some shit you’re not telling me.”

Aaron turned to her borderline shocked. “Wow. You picked up some really filthy habits from that boyfriend of yours.”

Dawn’s face darkened at the mention of Paul and Aria glared at Aaron. “Real classy, nerd face.”

“Forget it,” Dawn brushed it off as Aaron blushed violently, realizing his mistake. “Don’t change the subject. You guys parted on ugly terms?”

Aria sighed. “You could say that.”

“Tell me everything,” Dawn demanded.

 

***

Pete looked at the clock. He wondered if she had taken off yet. Though it seemed too early still. He pictured her sitting on a suitcase, waiting for that plane in a sea of people, with her ripped jeans and Scorpions T-shirt, chin in her palm and hair loose because she cared too much about the aesthetic to put it up in a ponytail even though it got in her way all the time.

He sighed. He shouldn’t have thought about that. She was leaving, if she hadn’t already. He’d probably never see Hurricane Lovelace again, and it fucking ripped him to shreds.

He stood up and started pacing across the room. No, he’d made the right choice, even if it was painful. He was smarter than that, he kept telling himself. He couldn’t keep falling into her net like a clueless little fish. He had to do what he had to do in order to survive and if that meant letting go of Hurricane so that they could both have a shot at finding something else. Something better.

So he wasn’t gonna be that guy. He was smarter. He had self-preservation instincts. He was better than this.

He looked at the clock again. But then again, he really wasn’t.

 

***

“Aria,” Dawn snapped her fingers in front of her sister’s face, making him snap out of her reverie. “Let’s go, I got the tickets, we gotta board.” She paused and gave Aria a look. “Are you okay? You blanked out for a second there.”

Aria blinked and shook her head, unable to also shake off this uneasiness in her bones.

“Yeah, she answered eventually. “I just had this feeling like I forgot something. Anyway. Let’s go. New York, New York, baby.”

 

***

“Sir, you can’t park here!”

Pete flipped off the cop as he slammed the door of his car shut and broke into a sprint.

“Sue me,” he yelled over his shoulder. He didn’t care if he got arrested afterwards or if he ended up with a killer ticket. He just had to get to her.

He bumped into people and knocked over a ton of luggage. Fucking hell, he told himself as he looked around and ran his hands desperately through his hair. The airport was huge. There was no chance he’d ever find her in this crowd, if she was even still here.

He ran to the information board, then checked his clock. His eyes widened. The plane was taking off in 15 minutes. They’d boarded already.

He knew he was never gonna make it, but he still ran. Everything he’d told himself, everything he’d told Hurricane that night when she’d said she was leaving, he realized none of that had made any sense. If that plane took off and Hurricane left without knowing how he felt about her, he’d never forgive himself for letting her go. It would be the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

When he finally made it to the gate, he was panting so hard he could barely get a single word out, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“I gotta… I need to… Shit. Gotta get. On that plane.”

The agent simply smiled at him. “Boarding pass, please.”

Pete groaned. “Ma’am, I don’t have a boarding pass. Look, my girlfriend’s on that plane. I gotta get to her before the plane takes off. Please.”

She kept that fake smile plastered on her face as she replied, “I am terribly sorry, sir, but I cannot allow you to board without a boarding pass.”

“Look, lady,” Pete raised his voice, then closed his eyes and counted to five, calming himself down if he wanted to stand a chance to convince her. “Miss. I’m sure you understand. I’m crazy in love with that girl. And now she’s gonna move across the fucking country and I can’t let that happen without telling her how crazy in love with her I am. I just need to see her. Please.”

“That’s very romantic, sir, but we have rules. I’m gonna ask you to leave.”

“Is there a problem here?” a security guard approached them and Pete turned to him, feeling his blood boil and despair take over him when he realized he stood no chance to get on that plane.

“Yes,” he shouted. “My girlfriend’s on that fucking plane and I’m here. And I need to talk to her.”

“Tough shit, kid,” the guard cut him off. “This is an airport, not an episode of Friends. Now, you wanna go home or you wanna go spend the night in a cell?”

And like that, the 15 minutes had run out. He rubbed his face and turned his back on the guard, not bothering to answer as he watched through the glass window as the plane took off, taking Hurricane away from him. He hadn’t made it. He’d let her go.

He turned around and followed the guard’s advice, going home. He’d lost her. She’d really left. He’d let her go. He knew he should have never expecting anything else. Hurricane wasn’t the bird to be caged. She was meant for higher skies and that wasn’t him. How had he been so stupid to think she could ever settle for him? What could he even offer?

He didn’t get a single second of sleep that night. The next morning, he packed his bags.

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: The Script – The man who can’t be moved~

New York was a dream. Aria couldn’t imagine how she’d lived for 20 years anywhere else other than Manhattan. Every minute was breathtaking. She’d spent her first two weeks just walking everywhere, with her eyes wide open and taking everything in, glued to all the broad horizons opening up before her. It was mesmerizing and she didn’t fathom ever growing tired of its dynamic, of its restlessness, of its never-ending energy. New York was like an urban storm, with bright lights and full of noises mingling into a beautiful harmony. And she knew, that if she could be a city, any city in the world, she’d be New York. Nowhere else had she ever felt at home as she did here.

The only small dark spot in the kaleidoscope of colors unraveling before her eyes was an absence she’d never have expected to feel. She found herself wanting to be able to share this with Pete. To carry that dance of theirs all along the streets of New York, all over those spots she slowly came to love here. Into this whole mesmerizing harmony, the sound of him walking out and slamming that door behind him kept replaying in her mind like the screech of nails on the chalkboard. But she refused to let anything stand between her and the city of her dreams. Not even Pete. So she stashed her heartbreak in a drawer, deep enough so she’d never have to come across it again or think about it again or waste another breath on sighing for Pete. Who was she, Dawn?

And even Dawn was moving on. It was October and Paul had been gone for three months, and Aria had expected a great deal of moping and ice cream therapy. And yet, that voice mail had indeed been the last one and lately, she seemed to be considering the idea of giving Aaron a shot. Well, while Aria had never been a fan of the guy, she couldn’t say she was glad that Dawn was at least going for a rebound. So if New York could heal even Dawn and make her date again, Aria had no excuse to mope over Pete, for Christ’s sake.

She had to put him out of her mind and move on. Crash more parties. Flirt with more co-workers. Make out with some more strangers and forget about a simple California boy.

Except one month later, as she came back home from work, he was just… there.

Rewind.

There she was, on a Friday night, on the corner right next to her building, dead in her track, eyes wide and lips parted. Because there was just no way that was really Pete sitting on the sidewalk, smirking up at her like they’d only seen each other yesterday.

“What in the names of all the holy fucks,” she whispered under her breath “are you doing here?”

He chuckled and stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. The gesture felt so familiar it gave Aria goosebumps. “That’s not the welcome I was hoping for, but I’d be lying if I said it’s far from what I expected.”

Aria shook her head, as if still expecting him to vanish from sight so that she could go on and admit herself in a nuthouse.

“No,” she kept shaking her head. “That’s… No. It can’t… You can’t… How are you here?”

Pete simply shrugged. “I took a plane.”

“How did you find me?” she managed to find her voice and scream back at him. He remained calm and smiling, which only infuriated her.

“Now, that was the tricky part. New York is huge. So after spending two weeks, you know, acknowledging that and spending all my money, I got a job, got a place and called Dawn. Silly me. She gave me your address. I waited on this corner for over a week now. So it’s good to see you, Hurricane.”

He smiled widely as Aria struggled to process all this. He’d moved here? Got a place and a job? Waiting for her in the street for a week? What stupid rom com had she ended up in? Every Aria bone in her body wanted to give in to her first instinct. Run.

“It’s Aria,” she crossed her arms over her chest.  “No more Hurricane. Things are different now.” She paused. “Besides, you made that abundantly clear.”

He sighed, not easily fazed by her rejection. “Look, Aria. I thought this decision through. For like…” He paused, pondering, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “…half a night, tops. And I came all the way over here, keen on starting an actual life here, because I let you go without saying what I needed to say.”

Aria groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Pete, this is so cliché. You are a walking cliché. This isn’t a damn movie.”

“Aria,” he raised her voice, and Aria was instantly silenced by the way he took control and spoke her name in a way no one ever had. So fierce. So full of passion. It was the first time she was happier with being Aria than Hurricane. Who was this Pete? Why did he seem taller all of a sudden? “I love you. And I l know that terrifies you.” He barked a laugh. “I know you’re gonna run away in about two minutes, give or take. Because it scares you that you allowed yourself to feel the same way about someone.”

“You don’t know anything,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“So you can go ahead and run,” he went on as if she’d said nothing. “I’ll be here again tomorrow. And the day after that and the one after that. Right here, on the corner of this street. I’ll sit here for another month if I have to.” He sighed. “I won’t make Paul’s mistakes, Aria. I love you. And I’m gonna say it until you get used to hearing it. I’m not walking away from this.” He took a step towards her until their noses almost touched. And he just smiled down at her, teasingly just as she used to, because he’d gotten so good at beating her at her own game. “Because where are you gonna find another poor soul who’s gonna put up with your hurricanes?”

She gritted her teeth and ignored that little annoying voice in her head that told her to jump his bones and kiss him senseless. But instead, she flipped him off and moved past him in a haste.

“Fuck you, Nolland,” she screamed over her shoulder and she heard him laughing whole-heartedly.

“Well, if you insist.”

 

***

~SOUNDTRACK: Dua Lipa – Blow your mind~

That morning, when she left, Aria made a point to cross on the other side of the street to avoid the possibility of Pete being there.

He was. He smiled. He waved and sipped on some coffee. She rolled her eyes and strolled on, trying not to mind him. Hadn’t he said he’d gotten a job? Didn’t have things to do?

Truth was, she couldn’t sleep last night. She’d told Dawn about Pete camping in front of their building and her sister had been ecstatic. She was still rooting for the two of them. She’d even joked about double dating with Aaron, but Aria couldn’t even stomach it as a joke, let alone an actual plan. She was mad at Dawn for giving Pete their address, but then they’d talked it through. Dawn was trying to convince her that she was making a mistake if she’d let Pete go.

“You guys are perfect for each other,” she’d said. “He’s stupidly in love with you and you’re the only one who blindly refuses to see how stupidly in love with him you are, too.”

The work day had been a disaster. She couldn’t focus on a single thing she had to do, her mind constantly flying to Pete. This was stupid. He should’ve stayed the hell in San Francisco. She had plenty of guys she could play without having her stupid heart barge in and fall in stupid love with him.

Oh, yeah. She’d said it. Stupid fucking feelings and stupid Pete, turning her into a doll made of goo in his hands, longing for him and for the partner in adventures she’d fucking fallen in love with. Jesus Christ.

The moment the clock struck 5 o’clock, she practically jumped out of her chair and was out the door in an instant. Screw clichés and screw cheap romance movie scenes where the girl throws herself in the boy’s arms and the credits roll as they kiss in the rain. Screw feelings. Screw love. Screw that feeling in her stomach as she thought about how much she wanted to just feel Pete’s touch. And screw Pete.

Well. She intended to anyway.

She could hardly sit still as the cab made its way through traffic to her address. She hoped she’d still find him there, though. Her smile faltered a little. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might have left, after all, but she brushed off the thought quickly. She might have taken off Hurricane’s masks, but she was still Aria fucking Lovelace, with whom Pete was stupidly in love.

And clearly enough, when she got out of the cab, there he was. Leaning against a wall, smirking at her with his hands of the pockets of his ripped jeans. He was so different from the Pete who’d been stammering before her a year ago, and yet not so much. He’d grown cocky and he’d grown confident, but she could still blow his mind. As he’d blown hers.

“Missed me?” he spoke and Aria felt like kissing that damn grin off his face.

“Shut up,” she shook her head, unable to hide her own smile, and he chuckled.

“Make me.”

Oh, she intended to. She needed no invitation to let her bag fall and to throw herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He caught her with a gasp and Aria enjoyed knowing she could still take him by surprise. They never would get bored of each other, would they? She didn’t even let him catch his breath before catching his lips into a hungry kiss that he was quick to return, turning them around so that her back was pressed against the wall.

“I did miss you,” Aria managed to whisper breathlessly as he started dropping kisses down her jaw. “Bastard.”

“I know,” he smirked up at her and she vengefully bit his lip, making him let out a small moan. This had to end up upstairs and she had to kick Dawn out. That was a given. She pushed him a little away to watch his face and to tease him with that Hurricane grin of hers that had him melting in her palm. Fucker was growing immune to it. But that was okay. She loved a challenge.

“Brace yourself, Peter,” she whispered against his lips. “Even if we don’t fuck it all up, you’re in for quite the ride. It’s gonna be one hell of a storm.”

He smiled widely, his eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

 

 

Alright, folks, this was it. Last excerpt before the epilogue. I actually have that one already written, but I’ll let you catch your breaths and prepare yourselves before posting it. So. Who’s ready for the bitter end?

30: Epilogue

EPILOGUE

 

July, 2027, New York

~SOUNDTRACK: Ed Sheeran – Happier~

“So you didn’t say yes?” Aria asked as I stuffed some dresses in my luggage.

“Not exactly,” I wrinkled my nose.

“But you didn’t say no, either,” Aria tried to understand.

I sighed. “Nope. I told him I needed time to think about it.”

Aria eyed the engagement ring resting on a chain around my neck. I knew she didn’t get it. I’d been with Aaron for nearly ten years, so everybody had seen his proposal coming. I wasn’t getting any younger and marriage should’ve felt like the next natural step. Not like Aria, who had made it abundantly clear to Pete that she had no intention of ever getting married, and Pete had never pressured her into it, and they’d been content with their arrangement and their own dysfunctional but happy relationship. Aaron, too, bless his soul, had been patient with me for all those years. And I loved him, I did. But seeing him down on one knee before me, with a ring in his hand, hadn’t made me feel the way I thought I was supposed to feel.

So I figured there was something wrong with me. I wanted to say yes, but it was like a thread, reaching somewhere outside my body and into the distance, and it kept my lips sealed shut until Aaron had had enough of my silence and had stood up. Yet he’d smiled and explained that he didn’t need an answer right away. That I could take my time.

And I’d decided to do more than that. I’d decided to get closure on an ancient story that haunted me to this day.

I wasn’t stupid. I was past 30. I didn’t weep at night for ghosts of the past. I loved Aaron, but I knew I’d loved someone else so much more once, in a way I could never love him. In a way I could never love again. But I also knew Aaron was my chance at getting a quiet life, a family, a white picket fence and growing old with someone who truly loved me.

But I felt tied to a promise I’d made so many years ago, under a sky painted with the colors of the Northern Lights. It was stupid of me, but until I could feel like I’d held my end of the bargain we’d made so many times, repeatedly, until I could release myself of that promise, I didn’t feel as though I could have anything to offer to Aaron.

“And you think you’ll find your answer in Marseille?” Aria cocked an eyebrow. “Dawn, it’s been ten years.”

“I know,” I smiled, trying to reassure her that this wasn’t some teenager whim of chasing long lost love; that it was me putting it all to sleep. One last door to close. One last window to open, a tiny part of me dared to hope. “I’m not looking for an answer to give to Aaron. I’m looking for a part of myself I lost ten years ago. And then my life can go on just like it has so far and I’ll be able to take this step. With Aaron.”

I touched the engagement ring hanging around my neck absent-mindedly. I didn’t tell Aria this, but I felt as though every sentence I spoke out loud ended with a huge unspoken ‘maybe’.

 

***

July, 2027, Marseille

~SOUNDTRACK: The Head and The Heart – Rivers and roads~

The Marseille light burned bright behind me, but I found no shelter in bright lights and vibrant motion here. On the contrary, the silent night provided just what I needed to temper the thunderstorm inside me.

I was a man well past 30 years old and I was still chasing pavements. I don’t know what I was doing here. Well, I did, but what I looked for wasn’t here. Couldn’t be. It had been ten years since she and I had talked about coming here together. Maybe she had a life now. Maybe she had found what she’d always looked for and I couldn’t give her. Maybe she didn’t even remember the Marseille nights we always talked about. But I did. And ten years later. here I was. Chasing pavements that led nowhere. I didn’t know what I was doing here. I was a fool.

I walked down the beach with my hands in my pockets and enjoying the cool summer breeze making the hairs on my arm stand up. Maybe it wasn’t even the breeze. Maybe it was just being here. I couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like this city had her all over it. I sat down and dug my fingers in the sand, wondering if the sea had ever gotten the chance to kiss the soles of her feet yet. She must have come here at some point. It was a hunch, but one I was pretty sure of. It all felt too familiar. And it brought me no small amount of satisfaction to know that she hadn’t been able to let go of this, either.

I rested my elbows on my knees and took a deep breath. For a minute, time stood still. Like in the movies, except I’d never known it was a real feeling. The waves crashed by the shore. A few seagulls cried. Music from a faraway club boomed in the distance. A silhouette, a girl, walked down the beach, her feet welcoming each waves, shoes in her hands. She wore a white summer dress. Brown hair, loose over her shoulders, longer than I remembered, ruffled by the breeze. Short of height and tan skin.

And I would’ve recognized her anywhere. With my eyes closed. The loud echo of her presence would’ve resonated through my bones and I would’ve known it was her. She was here. In Marseille. Right here where we were both supposed to be.

What was I to do? Was I to just walk to her? And say what? “Hi. It’s me. The one who walked away. But I’m here now. Ten years later. And I want you more than ever.” I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure what was happening in her life right now. I wasn’t sure there was space for me in it. So I did the only thing I could think of. I opened my mouth and started singing a few lyrics of Drops of Jupiter.

Tell me, did you sail across the sun?

Did you make it to the Milky Way

To see the lights are faded

And that Heaven is overrated?

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,

One without a permanent scar?

And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

Time was still standing still and so did she. She stopped dead in her track and didn’t turn around. I sang the next lyrics and I kept going. By the end of the song, I caught sight of her looking at me sideways. I could’ve sworn that was the shadow of a smile playing on her lips.

And then she kept going.

 

***

I thought I was being stupid and irrational and maybe a little too dreamy for a woman in her 30s. But here I was, in Marseille, walking down the beach, my eyes roaming over a horizon like he was just going to materialize somewhere, in the distance, then start to make his way to me.

But I never thought to look behind me.

And then I heard it.

My favorite song, just like all those years ago. I froze, listening to it, pondering whether I was finally losing it. Maybe so. But it sounded so much like him. If my mind was still having trouble thinking this through, my heart was 23 again and still in love with him. And then I stole a glance and there he was. Gorgeous as ever, but even more so after all those years. Bronze hair in the wind, feet buried in the sand, eyes fixated on me.

I allowed myself to smile a little. Then I turned around and walked away, knowing he’d follow.

 

***

I got up and followed her.

 

***

The bar was loud and crowded, but I didn’t care. I sat down and waited, feeling him like a shadow on my trails. I hadn’t felt this alive in ten years.

 

***

“Un latte de soja, s’il vous plait,” I ordered in French, and the bartender looked at me as if I’d grown extra ears.

“C’est un bar, monsieur,” he replied, reminding me this was a bar. I assumed it was a stretch to ask for blueberry muffins. “Nous servons de l’alcool.”

I sighed and slapped a generous tip on the counter. He grinned widely and came back minutes later with a soy latte. With that a hand, my heart on my sleeve and a silky scarf in my pocket that I’d been carrying around for ten years, I made my way to the girl in a white summer dress.

 

***

He placed a soy latte in front of me and a scarf around my shoulders. I let out a small gasp, recognizing it as the one I kept forgetting in his car. He’d kept it. All those years, he’d kept it.

He sat on the chair in front of me reluctantly, and I took him in. He was still the same Paul Rixon. A little rough around the edges, a little older, with a few more gray hairs than I remembered, but still him. And everything cleared before my eyes as the summer sky after a storm, revealing brighter stars than ever. I took the chain with Aaron’s ring off and placed it on the side of the table, out of my reach. Paul followed my move with his eyes, his lips pursed tight.

But then his eyes found mine again and the ring was forgotten, as was everything else. We’d found each other. Over seas and oceans and rivers and roads, we sat at the same table, in Marseille.

I looked at Paul Rixon and Paul Rixon looked back at me. And I wondered what kind of magnetism could two souls have to be drawn to each other so violently, so many times, after so long and time and again.

 

***

I looked at Dawn Lovelace and Dawn Lovelace looked back at me.

And the Universe she worshipped so much smiled down upon us as it granted us a second chance.

 

 

That’s that, folks. I cried writing this. If I’m to be honest with you guys, as we all do, I have a ‘the one that got away’. And Paul and Dawn’s promise of meeting again in Marseille is a real promise. So I wrote this epilogue months ago, when Poison and Wine was just a tiny glimpse of an idea. I just knew it had to end like this and I carried it in my wallet, on a folded piece of paper, for months. I am blessed to be able to share it with you guys. It had been an amazing journey and I am grateful to all of you who were there every step of the way. You can’t imagine how much it has meant to me.

So now that it’s over, I would love to hear your opinions. Don’t hold back. Let’s honor these characters one more time.

I love each and every last one of you. ‘Till we meet again,

xoxo