-Kylie-
Never in my life had I thought that I'd be stuck in this kind of situation, and just the thought of Ronnie's hostility towards me made me feel nervous and doubt ful.
I stared at the floor as I walked, but because I wasn't paying attention, I soon bumped into someone.
"Searching for something down there?"
I lifted my head and found Erik smiling at me.
"Long time no see, Kylie," he said, and then peered at me closely. "Are you okay ? Seems like you're in a bad mood."
I forced a smile and rubbed my temples. "Oh, no, I was just thinking of somethin g." I shrugged.
"You always think too much. Is it about school stuff?"
"Not particularly. So anyway, what've you been doing these past few days? I don' t see you around that much."
"Ah, well..." He rubbed at the back of his neck, diverting his eyes from me. "Li fe gets in the way. There's been lots of stuff happening lately, mostly at home, so... I can barely get away from my family without a hassle." He chuckled. "Suc ks, right?"
Erik seemingly didn't want to talk about what was happening, probably for person al reasons, so I laughed with him instead and joked, "Really? You couldn't? Well , that's odd. Here I was thinking you were free all this time because I thought it was you I saw at the amusement park last Saturday."
His eyes expanded as I spoke. I didn't know if it was just me, but I noticed the color of his face draining slightly; he must have been pretty shocked.
I continued to laugh. "Must be your doppelgänger."
"Yeah, that would be impossible. I don't go to amusement parks alone," he said. "Besides, I was at my aunt's house around that time, trying to babysit my cousin s."
"Cool. You babysit."
"Only as a desperate measure. Right now, I'm strapped for cash, and I can't ask Dad for any more money. But hey, if I finally get some spare time, maybe we can, you know, go out again? I found this really cool place to the south, not far fr om here, and I want to take you there."
I gulped. "Erik-"
A noise cut me off. I turned and saw his friends calling for him in the distance , then turned back to see Erik waving at them; soon he glanced back at me again.
"Gotta bounce. It was nice talking to you, Ky. Sorry I can't stay longer." He sm iled apologetically.
I nodded. "It's okay. No problem."
"Kylie?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm still waiting."
An electrical feeling carved through my chest. I didn't know how long I stared a t him as he waved goodbye before blending into the crowd.
My knees were wobbling as I made my way to the cafeteria. There were three peopl e occupying our usual table, but instead of Ronnie being present, Clark was ther e, sitting beside Lacey with an arm around her shoulder. Normally I would have t hreatened to cut his fingers off for that kind of behavior, but now I wasn't eve n surprised. In fact, I couldn't have cared less - my thoughts were kinda messed up at the moment.
The shrill sound of their laughter was suddenly cut short when I came up to them and sat beside Julianne without a word.
"Oh, she's late," Clark remarked, slowly removing his arm from Lacey the second he saw me.
"Hey, so you came..." Julianne said cheerfully before noticing my glum look. "Wh at's going on with you? Where's Ronnie? I thought she was with you a while ago."
I looked at her and forced a smile. "Well, uh, she said she was going to pass th is time-" and probably every other time from now on "-and I'm fine. Yeah."
Lacey leaned over the table, wide-eyed. "Have you eaten yet? Here, you can have my sandwich." She pushed the plate towards me. "I'm already full, and I haven't even touched it."
I nodded but didn't have the appetite to take it.
Clark cleared his throat as though he were uncomfortable. "Uh, I think I should leave you girls now." He stood up, and Lacey's eyes followed him. "I'll call you later, Lace. Bye." Smiling, he gave a small salute, then took off.
"You better get rid of that murderous look, Ky," Julianne said. "People are star ting to get creeped out."
Lacey looked closely at me. "Are you really okay?"
"Yeah, just peachy, actually." I laughed without humor. "I'm just, uh-" I looked around anxiously. "Clark's gone, right? Will he come back?"
Lacey shook her head. "I don't think so. Why...?"
"Tristan! What about him? Is he around? He won't turn up here, will he?"
"No-"
"What about Ronnie or Erik? They aren't here, right?"
"Yes, they're not even around, jeez. I wonder what you ate today," Julianne excl aimed. "What's with all the panic?"
I let out a sigh of relief. Licking my chapped lips, I pressed my hands into my lap and stared at them. "Listen, I... This may sound a little weird for me to be saying, since I rarely do this kind of thing, but bear with me, guys, just this once," I muttered quickly. "I wanna ask for some advice."
I lifted my gaze and saw Julianne put her chin in her hands; her lips were turne d up into a crafty smile while Lacey's mouth hung open with surprise. Oh, darn, why am I doing this? But I couldn't stop now-lots of questions I couldn't answer were brimming in my head.
"Hmm... Interesting," said the redhead.
"Yeah. So what was it you wanted advice about?"
My cheeks flamed up as I played with my fingers. "Well, you see, guys, I've got this friend..."
Julianne's eyebrows knit together. "Please don't tell me it's me," she muttered and shook her head.
I scowled. "Calm your ponies, Jules. I'm not talking about you, it's just-" I fl uttered my hand over my head "-I mean, she's a friend from grade school. We talk ed, like, just a while ago about her crisis," I said, hoping it sounded convinci ng, even though that strategy had already failed me several times.
They exchanged looks and said, "Oh-kay..."
"And I wanted to help her, which is why I'm asking for advice - I know that you two are the best with this stuff," I added and cleared my throat. "Anyway, she's stuck between these two guys, and, uh, sh-she's confused who she's gonna choose . You know, like in a typical teen show with all the cliché..."
"Don't stress yourself out too much over that." Lacey chuckled. "Just go out wit h the one you like more!"
I panicked, sweat rolling rapidly down my face. "N-no! You're wrong!" I shrieked . "It's not about me! We're talking about my friend here!"
Julianne clapped her hands and hooted with laughter.
"Oh? Ah, right! I forgot," Lacey said and pressed her lips together, trying her best to contain her laughter. "I'm sorry; she sounded just like you, so..."
I glowered. "Lacey."
"Okay, okay, back to your friend's story. What next?"
"Well, what you said about going out with the one you like might be more of a go od option," I murmured. "But another problem is that... I'm - I mean, she's afra id to admit to herself what she really feels, and...yeah."
"I think she's the type of girl that can't really express herself, that can't sh ow that special person that she's interested, that she cares and all," Julianne stated matter-of-factly. "Instead, she does the opposite - she pushes people awa y. It's probably because she's afraid to be deeply attached to the other person. "
My eyes widened. That had almost given me bloody nose. Her statement had been a bomb (so typical of her), but an epiphany had slammed into me shortly after I'd heard it.
Julianne whistled under her breath. "Wow, I didn't know you'd be that shocked."
"But... isn't that scary? I mean, getting too close to someone will most likely lead you to opening up, and just the thought of letting that person know your th oughts, moves, and things you keep inside you, and allowing your happiness and e verything to depend on that person, is...is frightening." I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm just saying that because I...I honestly think that if they knew about everything...they wouldn't stick around. They'd drop you. Then you'd lose the safe balance you'd created for yourself."
That perplexing feeling you got when someone made you feel special and you weren 't sure whether you'd believe it or not...
I couldn't believe those words had come from my mouth.
"You know, I agree with Julianne. And I think another reason why she hides her f eelings from him is the fear that the feeling isn't mutual." Lacey put her hand on mine and smiled. "But who says everything is easy? There's always a big risk, sis, but maybe it'll all be worth it in the end."
Dumbfounded, I let my jaw drop. My face probably resembled the carvings on totem poles by now. Hearing that from my gullible sister had made me think that she j ust might be braver than I was.
"Lacey, th-that's-!" I stumbled.
"What?"
"Aaand eureka. She's just starting to figure out what you said, Lace," Julianne said, nodding to her. "You know Kylie's head - it's even harder than a macadamia nut to crack."
I elbowed her.
"What? It's true. But hey, it's a good thing that you're starting to open up you r mind on this matter. You're finally growing up, girl." She patted me on the ba ck.
"Ugh, talking about this with you guys... " I groaned, burying my face in my pal ms. The funny thing was that we three had seemingly forgotten about that "friend " I'd made up, and I was the subject of conversation now. But whatever. I didn't care about that anymore, since it had already been way too obvious.
"I actually like having talks like this with you, Ky," Julianne said. "Seeing yo ur flushed expression is way hilarious and definitely one of a kind. Why don't w e talk like this more often, what do you say?"
"Nope." I looked up and shook my head. "You guys were going Dr. Phil on me again , and I've had enough for the day. This is embarrassing enough already."
Resting her head on her hand, Lacey stared at me with a smile that had thousands of meanings in it.
"He's the one who's making you like this, isn't he?" she said.
I was so nervous; I couldn't look straight at them. Instead, I gazed down at the sandwich in front of me; before I knew it, I was already scarfing it down while guzzling the extra water in Julianne's bottle. I felt their eyes penetrating me , and I couldn't help but look at them. They were grinning ear to ear - and with that look on their faces, they knew exactly what the answer was.
-Tristan-
Kylie arrived right after dinner, just as we'd planned that afternoon. She had a n unhappy look on her face that had replaced the smile she'd worn all morning. T hat was weird. I wondered what had happened to her, but didn't ask because I kne w she wouldn't want to talk about it.
Mom hugged her as if they hadn't seen each other for centuries and began to make small talk. When Kylie wasn't watching, she gave me the look-her parental look, as Dad liked to call it-and I raised my hands and shrugged, conveying that ever ything had been covered. She nodded before heading to the movie playing in the l iving room with Dad, almost as thankful for avoiding that awkward conversation a s I was.
Dad's study room upstairs was well-lit, noiseless, and spacious, and large books helves lined the area. The desk was littered with drafts and papers, and I could n't tidy any of it up, so we had to work on the coffee table instead.
Kylie sprawled on the floor, put her books on top of the table, and began to fli p through the pages she'd brought. I sat on the other side of the table, putting down two cans of soda and a couple bags of chips.
"Okay, tell me what parts you don't understand," I said, peering at her notes.
"Um, from here to probably up here-" she said, pointing out the spots on the pag es. "I kind of get this part, but I'm not entirely sure about it. Oh, and this w as on the previous test."
"I see..." I frowned. "Hey, how can you understand your notes when all you can s ee are, what are these, tornadoes?" I pointed at the scribbles all over her note book.
"Those are basically the things that keep me interested during class," she groan ed. "And since finals are coming, everything makes me wanna derive myself off a cliff."
I laughed. "Nice pun you made there, Ky. Why don't we start now so we can finish early?" I grabbed her book and looked through the pages. "I think it'll be much better if we focus on the parts you need to work on. Is that okay?"
"Perfect, but I need to work on almost everything. Look at these integrals I can 't solve."
"Should I teach you step by step, then?"
"That's actually what I want. Not the general style of teaching like Mr. Cross d oes, where he doesn't explain the magical shit behind his answers." She held my gaze for a moment and shook her head. "Sorry for the cussing, I just hate it."
"I know," I said, "I'm actually one of the rare people that enjoy this subject, but this shit also hurts my brain."
She smiled and raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "No way. You always act like this is easy as pi."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't tell me that was another pun. They say math puns are th e first sign of nerdy-ness and madness." I smirked, shaking my head.
She covered her ears with her hands. "Gah," she cried, "I'm reaching my limit! S hoot, there I go again. Sorry, sorry. I just need to shut up."
"Get ahold of yourself. We haven't even started." I leaned over to her side and pointed to a diagram with my pen. "Okay, so... here, let's try this problem. It' s pretty easy."
Then we began. I gave her a review of the basics before we moved on to the probl em. As I continued reading her notes and scribbling calculations on the paper, I sensed her sneaking glances at me the whole time.
"...since f has no vertical asymptotes, you evaluate it at root of three over th ree and at negative one and five..." I muttered. When I glanced at Kylie, her ey es quickly shifted downward-she'd really been staring at me. I sighed.
"What?" she asked, now focusing on the notes as if they were the most fascinatin g thing on Earth.
I shook my head, grabbed an extra piece of paper, and wrote: 9x-7i>3(3x-7u). Sli ding the paper over to her, I said, "Here, simplify this."
She studied it a bit. "Wait, this wasn't included in the notes. This is just bas ic algebra."
I shrugged as if oblivious. "I'm just trying to refresh your mind, that's all."
Kylie started to scrawl calculations underneath it, and my grin widened. A few s econds later, her eyes popped out and her jaw dropped. She pushed the paper back without saying a word.
I glanced at her answer: i<3u.
"This is really sweet, Kylie."
She threw a notebook at my head, which I quickly evaded. "You-you tricked me! Th is is the first time in my life that I've been serious studying this subject, an d now you keep messing around," she roared, red-faced.
I laughed manically. "I'm not messing around, I swear. I just noticed that you w eren't quite focused on the lesson, so I thought of something to turn your atten tion back to the lesson and away from my face." I crossed my arms over the table . "Daydreaming about me?"
"Hell, no, I don't do that!" she snapped.
I snorted. "Sure, you don't." A book soared through the air and successfully hit my skull. I hissed with pain. "Aw, that hurts. Hey, cut it out, stop throwing t hings at me."
"Then stop fooling around," she said, scowling. "Continue the lecture, mister."
Still rubbing my swollen head, I asked, "Where did we stop?"
"Here, the endpoints," she said, pointing at the problem. "Oh jeez, math is even scarier than The Exorcist," she added in a mumble.
"There's something therapeutic about doing math exercises. It's really calming, you know."
Her lips pulled into a mischievous smile. "Sure. Your famous last words?"
We started to work in a serious way after that. No jokes, no bickering, no more pointless conversations; instead, I explained everything to her as thoroughly as I could. She would nod at some parts and persistently ask questions, which woul d lead us into little arguments. But I'd always win those, anyway.
I smiled as I watched her solving the problems on her own. She was really trying her best for this.
-Kylie-
He was staring at me.
I could tell it without averting my gaze from the paper. These variables and der ivatives were overflowing so horribly in my head; they could turn me insane if I kept going.
I took a quick peek at him. Crap, he was still looking.
"Uh, um..." I swallowed. This situation was making me uncomfortable.
"What?" He paused for a moment. "Ah, I guess you can't work when I'm watching?"
"Y-yeah," I said.
He shrugged. "Right, sorry. I can't concentrate on work when someone's watching me, either." He opened a pack of Ruffles and a can of Coke and began to eat them as he read the book. How did he manage to look so calm while studying that stuf f? Then again, every atom in his body apparently knew how to solve this thing.
I returned to my task and started to wiggle the pen in my fingers.
Ahh, I need to concentrate! Tristan just taught me about this, so I should know it!
It felt like eras after I finally-and hopefully-got the answers. Puffing out air , I looked up, satisfied. Tristan was still reading intently. He paused for a mo ment, ran his fingers through his messy hair before flipping another page. His e yes were starting to close slowly as he blinked. I figured he must have been exh austed by now. As I watched him, I was starting to think that I was-
Suddenly, he looked up with a smile. "You done?"
My heart leaped into my throat, and my face burned. "Ah, well, I'm-um-"
"Was it too hard?"
I waved my shaky hands. "No. Actually, I'm finished."
He took my answer sheet and examined it. "Hmm..." he said, nodding as if he were really taking the role of a teacher. Then he turned to me with a wide grin. "Th is is great. You're improving, Ky. You should watch out for your signs, though. Just a little more practice, and you should be good to go."
I grabbed a handful of chips, lowered my stiff back onto the carpeted floor, and popped some chips into my mouth. I wondered how long I'd been working on those problem sets for me to be so mentally and physically drained, but it was good to hear from him that I was improving. Hallelujah! Tribal dance!
"Are there books that can make you smarter if you eat them?" I asked, still munc hing as I stared at the dirty, white ceiling.
"If they even existed, who do you think would dare to eat them?"
"Bookworms."
"You have a way of twisting things, Kylie."
With a last gulp, I pulled myself up and rubbed my throbbing head. Something ben eath the coffee table caught my attention. A pile of old albums was stacked belo w, and I carefully pulled one out, blowing the dust off before I opened it.
Inside were Tristan's photos from when he'd been a kid. Most of them had been ta ken while he'd been playing with the telephone, sucking his thumb on the couch, or playing in an inflatable pool. I roared with laughter when I saw a photo of h im in the bathtub, his chubby little face contorted with shock at the sight of t he camera.
"Wow, T, is this you?" I snickered. "I've never seen you so ecstatic when taking a bath."
Confused, he came over to my side, and his eyes widened at the sight of the phot os. "Hey, who told you to look at those?" he exclaimed through gritted teeth, cl early embarrassed that I'd seen his half-naked little self. "I was four at the t ime, and I didn't even know that Mom was taking pictures in the bathroom. Now gi ve that back!"
"I'm not done yet!"
"Let go of it!"
"No!"
We began to have a tug of war over the album, but because Tristan had more stren gth than I did, he eventually won.
"Party pooper," I muttered, glowering at him.
"This is highly personal. Just find something else." He pulled himself up and pu t the album on top of a shelf as if I were a midget that couldn't reach it.
I pulled out another album, but it was smaller compared to the first one. It con tained Tristan's middle school photos-when he'd won first place in a math compet ition, when he'd been at summer camp with Grey and Clark, him on a basketball te am, him on a family outing, and so much more. His smiles in every photo were alm ost the same: thin and laid-back, as if he'd been too cool to smile. There was n o difference between him in the past and him now. He'd still been magazine-cover material back then; I bet every girl in his class had swooned over this little devil.
I skimmed through a few pages and stopped at a group shot. The people in the pho to looked maybe fourteen, and they all sat around a campfire. I could recognize some of the kids included, and as I kept scrutinizing their faces, the girl sitt ing beside Tristan caught my attention. It was Ronnie, and I had to say, her loo ks had definitely improved over the years. Her hair back then had been a pixie c ut, and she wore a big grin as she showed her flaming marshmallows to the camera . She and Tristan looked comfortable with each other.
"That was taken out in the front yard, two weeks before you moved here."
I jumped, and Tristan's laughter rang behind me.
"So... you and Ronnie were friends back then," I said hesitantly.
"Yes." His voice was barely above a whisper.
Everything Ronnie had said that afternoon rushed back to me, making me wordless.
I turned another page and paused. Photos of Tristan and I were pasted all over, and most of them had been taken the summer before ninth grade. Those good old me mories came back to the surface as I stared at them. I knew Lacey had been the o ne who'd taken most of these pictures.
We spent the next few moments looking at the photographs and went into hysterics over our candid shots. For a second, I realized that there were too many memori es that I hadn't held on to long enough. And when we were like this, it was as i f we were traveling back in time into the photographs.
My whole body stiffened when I sensed Tristan came up closer behind me. Then he leaned over my shoulder until there were only a couple inches between the sides of our faces. My heart pounded as he extended his arm...
...and removed a photograph from the album.
"Hey, how much do you want to pay for this?" he asked and scooted away.
I turned to him, totally forgetting that my face was pure red. "What's that? Lem me see it!" I reached for the picture, but he just pulled it away playfully.
"Ah, just rare proof that a little tomboy like you can wear something so girly." His teasing grin broadened as he showed me the image. "Kylie wearing a two-piec e swimsuit."
It was really me, wearing a frilly, yellow swimsuit with tiny, flowery designs o n it. I had a wide grin in the picture that showed off my braces as I posed besi de a sandcastle. Tristan, who was wearing nothing but swimming trunks and a towe l around his neck, was on the other side.
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed by a photo. I'd completely forgotten that I 'd worn that silly outfit, which Mom had forced me to wear to the beach. But tha t had been the very last time I'd ever worn that kind of suit.
"This is so nostalgic." He chuckled, waving the photo back and forth. "You were so excited for the reward for our swimming contest that you caught a cold afterw ards, since you didn't dry yourself off. That was divine punishment, I tell you. "
I made a face. "Aha, so that's why I got sick. It was because you were really pr aying for it."
"I took care of you, don't you remember?" he said. I snapped my mouth shut, and he looked away. "I mean, I helped your Mom and Lacey take care of you. You were worse than Cookie Monster when you were sick. Asking for heaps of food you could n't even eat..."
"Hello, it was because I was sick! Sick people are always hungry," I shot back. "Now give me that photo so I can burn it."
"What? Come on, you can't do that. This is the only existing proof that you can wear a swimsuit."
"Yes, I can. That picture is really humiliating, and I wanna puke on it."
He looked at it. "I think it looked really cute on you."
I continued to wriggle the photo out of his grip, ignoring the fact that I'd alm ost died from what he'd said. "No? Then you're gonna take the consequence, monke y-face!" I cried and moved to bite his arm.
"Hey, no biting!" He struggled to free his arm from my hands.
Eventually, I found myself fastened to him by my own arms as he tackled me, and before I knew it, he was all around me, his arms encircling my waist. The pictur e fell lifelessly to the floor. My breathing hitched, and I stopped moving.
"T-Tristan?"
He rested his chin on my shoulder and whispered, "Can we...stay like this for a moment?"
He didn't wait for an answer as his embrace tightened, entrapping me in never-en ding warmth. I didn't know how to respond, so I just let him. For the record, I didn't want him to stop; my heart was pounding so loud, I bet he could also hear it.
"Kylie... do you remember that Valentine's Day prank I pulled on you back in nin th grade?"
"When you put that freaking tarantula in my locker?" I laughed softly. "You have no idea how many times it's replayed in my brain."
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I still did. I w as such a douche back then, and I had no idea how to act."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm just saying that people can do really stupid things when they're desperate and that regret comes last. I wanted to ask you out that day, but when... when I heard from someone that you liked another guy, I-I lost it. I was so angry; I d idn't know what to do with myself. I became reckless with you. I'm sorry."
It felt like a glass had shattered in a silent room. Realization dawned on me, m aking me stunned and completely breathless. Tears were starting to pool in my ey es, and my vision went a little blurry. There it was again, that feeling I could n't erase. Why did I have to be so scared?
"He's the one who's making you like this, isn't he?"
My mom used to tell me that when I'd been a kid, I would always fall down, no ma tter how slowly I walked. I still fell, but in different ways...and those ways w ere terrifying me.
"It's okay," I mumbled. "It's all in the past now. Everything has changed, T."
"But there's one thing that's stayed the same, Ky."
I lifted my gaze and met those dark eyes of his, making my head spin round and r ound. His eyes dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes; my heart throbbed, and I felt as if I were about to suffocate, though I still wanted to remain in that exact spot. Slowly he leaned closer, and I unconsciously closed my eyes-
Knock. Knock.
"Kids?" It was Tristan's mother.
We both opened our eyes and, as though realizing what we'd been about to do, jum ped away from each other. Our faces were burning so badly, we couldn't look each other in the eye.
Tristan cleared his throat and went outside to talk with her. With shuddering fe et, I moved back to the coffee table and began to gather my things.
The door clicked shut behind Tristan, who was just entering the room again.
"Your mom called. She said you need to go home now," he said quietly.
I glanced at the wall clock. It was already a quarter to ten. "Yeah, it's almost my curfew. Wait, I'll just fix these," I added, beginning to collect the photos scattered on the floor and return them to the album.
"No, don't bother. Just leave it to me."
"Oh, all right, then."
Tristan led me outside. We walked side by side without saying a word until we re ached the porch, where I faced him and smiled. Shadows loomed over his face, so I couldn't see his expression clearly. "Thanks for the lessons, T. They really h elped a lot. I think I can do this by myself now," I said.
"It's cool. You're welcome."
I turned towards the door, but when he caught my hand, I looked back at him, dra wing in a breath.
"Wait. You may hate me for this, but I can't help myself."
He pulled me closer, much to my surprise, and bent his face over mine. Our noses bumped, but our lips met tenderly, clumsily, and all the sounds of the world we nt silent except for the loud beating of our hearts. From the pressure of his ha nds around my arms, I could tell he was nervous as I was. I didn't even know wha t to do. I had never imagined in my life that this guy would be the one to steal my first kiss. But... I found myself giving in as his soft lips continued to pr ess on mine with great urgency.
Then slowly, almost teasingly, he pulled away and rested his forehead on mine.
"Sorry for waiting until now, Kylie," he said. "I love you."
As I went to sleep, I repeated those words over and over in my head, as if I had never heard them before and my life now depended on remembering them.