It's a gentle kiss, lips slightly parted.
His lips meld into mine and I'm awed by the way they feel. They're soft, but firm- and it follows the trace of my own lips, like he's tracing them, mapping them out.
Kissing Cory is warm and simple, unlike Noah's possessive and demanding one that steals the breath from my lungs.
Holy shit.
I can't believe what's going on. I'm kissing Cory.
I'm kissing Cory.
I'm... wait. What the fuck. I'm kissing Cory!
Suddenly, an image of Noah flashes through my mind in a blur, startling me for a moment that I pull away from him so fast I almost trip and fall. Before I can do that, Cory circles his arms around me and catches me before I can stumble. We stare at each other, breathing heavily as I try to figure what the hell that was about.
I should be happy Cory kissed me, it's what I've always dreamt of. Then why did I see Noah's face when he kissed me?
It's impossible.
I can still remember the hurt I feel anytime Noah makes a rude comment about me. Or when his temper snaps and he's looking scary and all.
And then there's Cory standing in front of me. Cory who smiles. Cory who tries to be nice to everyone. Cory who would lay on the beach with me by 3 am just to look at the stars.
What took him so damn long? It would've been a totally different story if this had happened almost a month ago. But now there's Noah to think of, with his stupid scowl I'm already used to. His stupid rare smiles that makes my flip. His stupid mouth that's skillful in both making snide comments and kissing me till my head spins and all I see is stars.
Stupid, stupid boy.
I look up at Cory who dips his head down to claim my mouth again as I place a hand on his chest, slightly shifting him away. "Too late." I murmur. "You're too late."
He shakes his head vigorously, like he's not accepting what I'm saying, his voice trembling lightly when he speaks. "I know you still like me, I can feel it. You're just scared we're not going to work out because I'm going far away."
"So what I'm I supposed to do? Sit back and watch you leave while I stay alone, waiting for you to come back even if there's the biggest possibility you won't?"
"We can make it work. There's a way..." Cory takes a step forward as I take one back. He looks offended by the action.
"Let's not force this," I say, watching his face crumble bit by bit.
"Is it Noah? He's going to leave too, you know?" What's that supposed to mean? "It's not like you're both going back to Florida to live happily ever after. You'd be off to college in few months and he'll probably travel to some other state because he has a life. Face the reality."
"At least we'd be on the same continent."
Anger boils in my skin at how true his words are. This is not some fairytale. Everyone would go separate ways once summer is over. Even Simone and I won't see each other like we used to. We're all growing up so rapidly that we'll hardly have time for ourselves. But when all is gone, the memories would always be there to cherish. It just depends on who you choose to have the memories with.
"So that's it? You're going to give up?"
"Look, there's some other girl out there who deserves you. And that's not me. She's going to have slant eyes similar to yours, with jet black hair and smooth skin." I continue slowly walking backwards to leave the cruise, but my eyes are still trained on him. "Definitely prettier than I am. Find her. And when you do, don't let her go."
"Allie..."
"Goodnight, Cory." I twirl around and walk fast paced out of there.
It feels like a huge weight is being lifted off my chest and I can now breathe freely without being bothered about wether he likes me more than a friend or not. It doesn't matter now. None of it matters.
"Wait!" I hear him call out behind me. "At least tell me her name!"
It's almost twelve in the midnight, and I'm fucking exhausted from all that walking. I don't know where I'm going. I don't even know where I am.
Bringing out my phone, I dial a number and it rings severally before Simone picks it up.
"Come pick me up. I don't know the way back home."
"I'm on the cruise with Tom," she says and I make a face even though she can't see me.
"Hoes before bro's."
The other end goes silent.
"Fine. Be there in five."
I see a truck pull over in no minute and I hop in. She doesn't ask me why I left without Cory, but just turns on the radio as we sing offbeat to Meghan Trainor's 'Dear Future Husband' all the way back to the hotel.
It's not too long before she drops me off and drives back to Tom. I bring out the keys to my room and unlock the door, eyes widening in surprise when I see Noah slouched on a chair with his head thrown backwards in a slumber.
He shivers slightly from the room's cold temperature as I look for another blanket to cover him. His discomfort angers me. Draping the blanket over his figure, I crouch down beside him to watch him sleep. Even when asleep, his full eyebrows are still slightly furrowed. I run a finger along both of his eyebrows, trying to straighten them out so it wouldn't look like he's frowning.
My fingers go up to his hair next, pushing away the locks that falls carelessly on his forehead and sliding my hands further into his hair. I've never been able to distinguish the color of his hair. It looks shiny brown that one can easily mistake it for a blonde. And the texture, so silky and soft, I wonder what shampoo he uses...
Jesus God, look how interested I am in describing someone's hair.
My breath catches in my throat when his eyes fly open, taking me unaware.
I manage out a soft, "Hey."
Noah's gaze leaves mine to roam the rest of the room. "So somehow, I ended up here. Definitely was not waiting for you or anything."
"Never said you were." I try to hold back a smile.
"Don't try to be smart." He plays with a thread that sticks out at the edge of the blanket with his fingers. "How was your date?"
"I left early. Wasn't feeling so well." I lie.
"Really? I should get going then." He says. I realize he says it in form of a question when he takes my silence as a 'yes' and pushes the sheets away, walking towards the door.
"Noah." He turns to face me. "I want you to stay."
The corners of his mouth slightly twitches. "If you insist."
I do a mental eye roll. "Just don't touch anything. I'm going to be in the shower."
"Want me to join you?"
Tension rocks in my stomach. "Don't touch anything." I repeat, entering the bathroom and locking it for safety reasons.
The hot shower should've soothed me but my oh so perverted mind keeps imagining him in the bathroom with me, soaping my back with tenderness and care, creating a lather that has nothing to do with bathing and everything that has to do with...
Shit! Lacey's been rubbing off on me.
I step out of the bathroom minutes later as I towel my drenched hair. Before that, I already slipped on a pajamas from the cupboards and stuffed my dirty clothes into the washing machine.
"I'm famished. Do you think there'll be any food left in the kitchen? I could make something if you hadn't had dinner yet. What do you think about Samosas?" I ask in a conversational manner, pausing to stare at him when he stays silent. My blood goes cold when I see my box of letters opened on my bed, with a piece of one of the letters in his hand.
"Who is Clarke?"
"I told you not to touch anything!" My outburst surprises him, but he blinks it away.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"He's dead," I reply more calmly this time.
"Then why are you writing letters to a dead person?"
"It's none of your business," I say.
"You became my business when you broke into my aunt's house to dig out information concerning me, even if it meant having a burglar point a gun to your head." Yikes. "I'm going to ask again, and you're going to answer me accordingly. Who is Clarke?"
"The whole story's stupid."
"You've seen me in a tiara and a dress. I'm curious to know what's more stupid than that."
He's persistent, I must say. "My ex got shot to death two years ago. His name is Clarke, plays basketball like you." A thought strikes me. "You might know him. He was a Jayhawks too."
An unfamiliar look crosses his face, like he's deep in serious thought. Then he asks, "Can I borrow your Laptop for a minute?"
He frantically flips open the apple Laptop even without my permission.
Okay? What's happening?
He impatiently taps on the desk with a finger while waiting for it to boot up. Once everything is turned on, I peek over his shoulder to check what he's doing. He pulls up on the internet and types in Google.
In the search bar, Noah quickly types something in between the lines of 'Nathan G. Johnston's murder case report'.
That's his brother. What has he got to do with this?
When the results comes up, he clicks on a picture and turns the screen towards me. "Do you know this guy?"
I take a quick glance at the photo. "No."
"Look closer."
With a tired sigh, I move closer to the screen and zoom in on the picture.
My heart drops to my stomach.
"You were there. Nineteenth of February 2018," he's saying. "Two years ago, my brother held a party at our house when my parents were away. I went out of the house because it smelled of sweat and liquor. There was a guy and a younger girl outside too. He was drunk and kept touching her in inappropriate places. She looked like she didn't like it so I stood up for her. She was you."
My hands shakes when I clamp them on my trembling lips in a vain attempt to cover the sobs escaping my mouth.
"If you were there that night, then you saw this guy on the screen which is my brother," he continues, despite my current state. "I know this is hard for you, but I just wanted to know if you'd remember what happened. Who fired the gun? Did my brother really do it? It was someone else, right? You could come as a witness when we get back to Florida and tell them my brother didn't do it. You're the only person who can get him out of jail, you're..."
"I'm so sorry," I whisper in a scared, timid voice. I slump to the floor, digging my trembling hands deep and tight into my hair that they might pull out.
"What do you mean? You can't help him?" I could hear the fear in his voice, and it breaks my already shattered heart.
"It's not about if I can't help him! It's about who fired the gun!"
"Then tell me already, goddamnit!"
More sobs fly out my throat. "I did! I shot my ex!"