Chapter 35: Chapter 35

I posted this the other day but had to take it back down bc something went screwy. If you happened to read it in the hour long time span it was up, lemme know if you liked it, yes?

And also, shout out to my dad. It's his birthday today. Without him, literally without him, this story, nor I, would not be here.

* * *

When I emerged from the principal’s office, the urge to pull the fire alarm out of spite was overwhelming.

Curious glances and the whispers of rumors followed me the moment the doors closed behind me, and somehow that only frustrated me more.

Despite my argument on the matter – which was a few words on how I technically hadn’t started the fight – I received the typical punishment for fighting in school: a severe lecture and two full days of suspension.

Socking another student in the face and getting suspended for it wasn’t as bad compared to my brother’s long list of behavioral reports that once got him expelled, but it was bad enough to get me grounded by my mother when I returned home from school.

She was standing on the front porch when I had pulled into the driveway, with her arms crossed and her face set. It was the kind of face that reminded me of the one I usually made when I was about to explode, which was why when I’d shut off the engine, I just remained sitting in the car, locking the doors and staring at her from the front seat.

When she realized I wasn’t going to get off the car, she narrowed her eyes at me and lifted a finger, motioning me toward her with a sly smirk.

I shook my head silently.

“Get,” she mouthed, “Out.”

And when I finally did, the first thing she said to me once I stood before her was, “You’re grounded for three days.” I had pressed my lips together but didn’t contest her, even when she shot an arm out and pointed a finger toward the front door of the house and said, “Now get to your room before I change my mind and make it a week.”

I scurried forward, making sure to dodge around her in case she pinched my arm or smacked me in the back of the head or something. Once I was inside, I snuck a glance behind me and relaxed a bit when I saw that she had fallen behind and allowed the door to close. When I turned back around though, I came to a stop when my dad emerged from the living room.

“Your fight is on YouTube, Rocky,” was his opening line.

I frowned. “Dad…”

He moved forward and set a hand on my shoulder. After giving the front door a brief glance, he asked in a quiet voice, “Was the punch the same one Darren and I taught you to do?”

My answer was a ghost of a smile.

“If I keep your mom off your case, will you tell me why you did it?”

I stared at my dad, suddenly struck with the lack of faults in telling him about everything that’s happened since the moment Jesse stumbled out of that janitor’s closet.

Throughout my seventeen years of existence, I hadn’t exactly been forthcoming in telling my parents every little thing about my school life. It was why they seemed to notice any odd occurrence like Katrina not showing up to the house as much anymore or attractive looking boys lingering outside to drive me to school.

And I wondered if sharing everything would be good for me. To tell my dad of Jesse’s startlingly amount of past relationships, to his sudden interest in me, to Kale’s master plan to destroy him, and to my involvement in it.

After studying my father, I found comfort in how I couldn’t find anything other than concern in his eyes.

So I smiled, the brief nod I gave him serving as my answer.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, and then released my shoulder when my mother entered the house. I moved toward the stairs, away from her narrowed eyes, but then heard my dad say before I closed my bedroom door, “That punch though.”

* * *

The next day felt strange.

I figured it was because when I’d woken up, I’d descended the stairs to find that I was home alone, but after a few minutes of wandering around, I realized it was because of something else. It took a moment to realize that there was something unfolding inside of my stomach, as if I’d forgotten something or as if I’d mindlessly jumped into the shower with my clothes still on. But as I stood in the entryway, on the last step of the stairs, I looked around and shook off the feeling.

Wandering into the kitchen, the neon green note taped to the fridge was the first thing my eyes landed on. It stuck out like a sore thumb, its color a vast contrast to the peach hues of the kitchen’s walls.

Peeling off the small paper, I squinted, baffled that my father could have such terrible, incomprehensible penmanship.

Dear Daughter, I was fairly certain it read. Leftover breakfast in the fridge. No leaving the house. No throwing parties without me. Don’t touch my Twinkies. Don’t touch my TV.

I glanced up.

And just five minutes later, I was lounging on the couch in the living room, my dad’s box of Twinkies on my lap and the television remote in my hand as I scrolled through the channels.

When I began to realize that the shows I was skimming through were nothing short of boring, I switched the channels and decided to watch a DVD instead.

But not even a few minutes into the movie, I found myself glancing around, legitimately bored out of my mind.

School had never been a place of worship, or an escape to me. In fact, the idea of missing a day appealed to me more strongly than normal. But that had been an idea – an idea that had me imagining spending the free time cleaning my room, or feeding a dog that I didn’t have, or experimenting with my hair to see what kinds of hairstyles I could pull off, or even sitting on the couch with my dad watching Law and Order and CSI: Miami all morning until the afternoon came and he switched channels to watch Family Guy.

But sitting by myself now, without my eccentric dad, my flamboyant mother, or even my unhinged older brother, sitting in the house by myself with nothing but a box of Twinkies as my company made me feel, well, lonely.

I’d been alone in the house before, but the actuality of it all didn’t hit me so hard until now.

Which was why, an hour into the DVD I’d been watching, I’d fallen asleep.

I think I was dreaming of beaches and chasing Farrah into the water with a chainsaw. But I couldn’t have been sure, because when the dream had been starting to make sense, something jolted me awake.

I sat up on the couch, rubbing at my eyes and glancing at the TV to see that the credits of the movie I'd been watching was playing. It was a two hours long, so by default I assumed I’d been out of it for an hour.

When the doorbell rang, I also assumed that had been what woke me up.

Still rubbing at my eyes, I stood up from the couch, stretching my arms above me as I made my way to the front door.

And then, thinking it was my father waiting on the other side, I opened it, mumbling, “Okay, Satan, I know you have the key to the door—”

My voice instantly died in my throat when I saw Jesse standing on my front porch. “Uh…” He turned to look over his shoulder, but when he saw nothing but my car parked in the driveway, he turned back to me. “Were you expecting someone else?”

His voice almost sounded tense.

My sleepiness wore off when the sight of him finally set in. “No—I mean, just my dad. Um, what, uh…” I almost allowed my words to trail off into silence. Composing myself, I wiped one more time at my eyes and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Jesse glanced away, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the coat he was wearing. “Well you weren’t in school today…and I kind of have to talk to you.”

I wondered if Jesse had come to my house right after school had ended, but when the music from the credits rolling on the TV drifted into the entryway, I dismissed the idea. I’d played it not long after I’d woken up, so I concluded that it must have been, or was about to be, midday. He must have ditched school.

My eyes flicked over his shoulder as a car passed, and I swallowed the lump growing in my throat.

It definitely wasn’t the first time Jesse showed up unannounced at my house. And it also wasn’t the first time he showed up while my parents weren’t within the vicinity. And while those two realizations didn’t really surprise me a whole lot, the fact that either my mom or my dad – or both –were due back at any given moment did.

So, without really thinking about it, I shot a hand forward, my fingers wrapping around the lapel of Jesse’s jacket to yank him inside. As he stumbled past me through the doorway, I closed the door and said, “Just get inside before someone sees you.”

Once the door was closed, I pushed aside the curtains beside it to see if my dad’s car had pulled into the driveway. When it remained clear aside from mine – and Jesse’s parked somewhat discreetly across the street—I turned to Jesse to find him studying me.

“Were you sleeping, or…?”

“No,” was my first response, but after glancing down at my outfit – flannel bottoms and a red pullover – I pressed my lips together. “I mean, maybe. Yeah, I might’ve been.”

Jesse smiled, but I didn’t get to see much of it, because at the sound of a car, I snapped back around and peered through the window again.

I had watched two cars pass by when Jesse suddenly said, “Let’s go out.”

I turned back around. “What?”

“I said I needed to talk to you. And it’s kind of serious.”

“Well then spit it out.”

“Not here.”

I frowned. “I’m grounded, Jesse. I can’t go anywhere.”

“Please.”

He moved toward me, and it was then that I noticed something in him that I hadn’t initially when I’d opened the door. He almost looked timid – a strange quality about him that had my heart beginning to thrum in my chest and the strange tension I’d felt before coil within me.

I considered the possibility that maybe he wanted to talk about my running off with Dalton. Or that maybe he was going to tell me if Farrah’s words the day before were true, and that I really was just a challenge and that I was deluded if I ever thought otherwise.

I hoped examining him would grant me some sort of leeway in figuring out what was so important that he needed to talk to me about that he was willing to break me out of my detainment for.

Aside from hesitance, I could see anxiety. I could see it in his disheveled hair that didn’t look tousled enough to be windblown; it looked as if he’d continuously ran his hands through it. I could see it in the way he kept glancing away. I could see it in the way his hands were either wringing together or were hidden in his coat pockets.

I sighed, not knowing what to make of it yet, but turning toward the stairs anyway. “Just give me minute.”

* * *

Jesse’s Camaro was the same as I’d last remembered it; glossy black paint and an interior that smelled of new leather and mint. I thought for a second that I smelled a hint of Axe or some other masculine cologne, but when Jesse clambered into the car after me, I dismissed the thought and figured I must have imagined it.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

“It depends.” Jesse had started the car, but hesitated in switching the gears. He glanced at my house and then at me. “Where are you okay with going?”

“What kind of question is that? You tell me to go out with you, and you don’t even know where you’re going?”

Jesse breathed out a long sigh and turned back to the front of the car. “I have an idea.”

“Pray tell.”

“It’s…well, it’s kind of…” He trailed off, and then took a deep breath and asked, “Do you trust me?”

No, I wanted to say, but found the word hard to get out. “It depends,” I said instead, earning a small smile from Jesse.

He lowered his head, making me unsure if he was staring at the radio, the gear shifter, or my hand fisting the hem of my shirt. Whatever he’d been looking at, he stared at it for a long moment before he finally shifted the gear into drive and said, “We’re going to my house.”

* * *

The last time I’d seen Jesse’s house, I had been fleeing it with Kale by my side. It had been the day I even agreed to help him in his revenge, and recalling the reason why left me sinking back in the Camaro’s passenger seat, staring at the house as if it were some bad omen.

All I saw when I looked at the property were flashes from that day. When I looked to the neatly trimmed grass, I saw people my age being held upside down atop kegs. When I looked to the curtains shrouding the windows, I saw guys running around wearing nothing but toga-like outfits. And when I looked up to the second story window, I could almost see Farrah looking down at me.

When I looked to the empty driveway though, I only saw one thing.

“Your parents aren’t home.”

Jesse cut the engine. “No, they’re not.”

In the span of time I’d known him, it became pretty easy to look at Jesse like he was an idiot. But to look at him now and actually believe it was another thing.

It took a few seconds for him to catch onto how I was staring at him before he let out a quiet chuckle and said, “I told you that I needed to talk to you. I promise that that’s it, Carson.”

That didn’t reassure me in the slightest. “Then what’s the difference between having this conversation in my house and yours?”

Jesse settled back in his seat, allowing his head to loll back onto the headrest. He remained quiet for a long while, but when he finally spoke, he kept his eyes in front of him. “In history class today, before I left, Mr. Baron was going on and on about wars and how it was better for you to fight on your own territory. It gave you a sense of confidence.”

I frowned. “You’re going to war?”

He smiled lightly, and then turned his head to me. “You can say that."

* * *

When the front door closed behind us, it almost felt like the point of no return.

I hardly noticed it enough to become worried though, because the moment I stepped inside, the interior struck out to me more than it had than the last time I’d been standing in it.

Without the swarm of people running about, I could see that the walls were a shade of mahogany, and that the floors were of polished wood and elegant looking throw rugs. And as I stood there, without the blasting music and the chatter of drunken souls, I discovered that the house, while large and a little intimidating, was actually peaceful.

It seemed appropriate enough to wait in the entryway until Jesse said or did something, but when curiosity got the best of me, I moved forward until, inevitably, the large den that Kale and I had been standing in when we’d seen Jesse and Farrah together appeared. I mindlessly wandered into it, my eyes instantly rising up to the staircase where they had been standing.

The memories that hit me when I looked at it felt like a good punch to the gut, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like how it affected me.

I shifted back, aiming to retreat back to the entryway, to be anywhere but there, but I turned to find that Jesse had been leaning against one of the recliners toward the far wall, his eyes on me.

After six seconds had went by, I decided I had enough of his staring contest. “What?” I asked, agitation seeping into my tone.

Jesse gave a small smile and looked down. “Nothing.”

I suspected by the way he was wringing his hands together and biting on his bottom lip that he was thinking of some way to say something, so I didn’t say anything at first. But when the silence continued on, I rolled my eyes, and after glaring at the spot on the staircase once more, I moved and sat on the leg of an armchair nearby.

“Where are your parents?”

Jesse’s eyes met mine, and for the first time since I met him, I realized that he’d never talked about his family before—aside from the fact that the Camaro parked just outside had once been his dad’s car and that on one occasion he’d asked his mom for advice about me. As far as that went though, I didn’t know what his home life was like. But if the expensive furnishings and large house was any consolation, then I’d only assume he was from a wealthy family. However, that knowledge didn’t prove how his attitude toward them generally was.

“Work, I think,” Jesse answered me.

“You think?”

“Sometimes they leave on business trips without telling me.” He shrugged.

“So they leave you here alone by yourself.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

That’s because I thought it was. It was no wonder Jesse had so many girls over—his parents were never really here to reprimand him for it.

I cleared my throat, not liking the mental image that that thought brought on. “I just,” I started, “I was just going crazy earlier being alone in the house by myself and here you are, telling me you stay home alone on a regular basis like it doesn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I find ways to occupy myself.”

“Like what?”

“Have you seen Home Alone?”

Despite everything: the large amount of negative feelings being in Jesse’s house brought on, Kale, Katrina, Farrah, and even my parents—I laughed. Genuinely laughed. A kind of laugh that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let out so easily after the past couple of days. And Jesse seemed to have realized that, too. Because after my laughter died down and only a small smiled remained, I looked at him to find that he was staring at me, looking both surprised and awed.

But then he turned away quickly, clearing his throat.

When silence dawned between us, I settled back on the arm of the chair and soon found myself trailing my gaze from the portraits and acrylic paintings hung on the walls until the staircase loomed up again.

I scowled.

“So,” I muttered in an exhale, running my hands along my thighs. “You said you wanted to talk about something.”

Jesse had been looking down, but when he realized it was his turn to talk, he glanced up at me. “Well you don’t waste any time.”

“That’s because this whole escapade is time sensitive. I am grounded.”

Jesse ran a hand through his hair, his eyes skirting along the floor. “I’m just…” He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “I’m just trying to figure something out—er, well, a lot of somethings.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you got into that fight.”

I paused. The hesitance that followed was only because he was looking at me as though decoding something in my face. “How did you find out about that?” I asked.

“Well your video was all anybody could think to talk about during class. Not to mention you got suspended. It didn’t really take a lot of effort to find out why when everybody was already talking about you.”

“Oh,” was my only response.

“And I…well, it’s probably just a rumor. But…” Jesse leaned forward, so that his elbows were resting on his knees. “I heard that it was about me.”

It was about him, but the instinctual thing I said was, “Yeah, well not everything is about you, Jesse.”

He didn’t seem to have noticed the bitter edge in my tone. “I just didn’t know that you knew her.”

“Are you implying that you did?”

Jesse stared at me for a long while, and even though I felt the need to shift under his gaze, I remained still, not wanting to look away first. And then, I blinked when he said, “She might or might not have been the girl I was with at the party.”

“Oh.” The next flow of words came out on their own accord. “You mean the one you just hung out with?”

Jesse caught on to the way I said them quickly. “Why do you say it like you believe otherwise?”

I fought off a scoff and sighed, looking away. “I don’t. Just forget it.”

“No.” I looked back to Jesse, tensing when I saw that his jaw was set. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“Are you really going to start that now?”

“You’re the one who asked me to come here so that you can talk to me. Not the other way around.”

Jesse stared at me in disbelief, and then shook it off and asked, “You want me to talk?”

I waved a hand. “The floor’s all yours. Literally.”

In any other scenario, I had a strong feeling he would have cracked a smile, but it wasn’t a smile I received, but a cold stare and a strange sense of foreboding. The tension within me tightened once again.

“Fine,” Jesse said, so low I wouldn’t have heard him if we were anywhere else. “You want me to talk? I’ll talk.” He suddenly stood up, so fast that I jumped, the force of it nearly sending me into the seat of the armchair. “I went to your house to see you because I wanted to talk about what happened the other day. And not just that day but the date, too.”

Jesus. My heart thumped louder in my chest. It might have been fear; seeing Jesse this way, so distraught and out of character made predicting his actions almost impossible, and I was worried he’d either shove me out the window or pull me in for a kiss. Or it might have been anticipation; this was it. Maybe he was going to tell me what had been eating my mind: were his feelings real or were they just part of a game?

He remained running a hand through his dark hair, looking away from me until he composed himself and turned back to me and said, “Did it mean anything to you?”

I swallowed. “Did what?”

“When we went out.”

“W—well, I mean it was alright—”

“No,” Jesse cut me off, moving to take a step toward me but thinking better of it and moving away. “I don’t want to know if you liked it—I want to know if it meant anything to you.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but found no words.

Kale suddenly came to mind, and with him came an answer: it did mean something. And maybe in some dark part of me it was the truth, but the highlight of the date was when Jesse and I had been standing on the bridge, when I’d asked him to tell me truth about the party and he flat out lied to my face.

I decided my best bet was to skirt around answering. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know if you like me!” Jesse shouted, clearly out of patience.

I waited a few seconds, trying to gather my words, but only one came out. “Need?”

Only naturally, I assumed the worst when I thought about that word. Maybe he needed to know because he was losing patience with me and didn’t want to keep up a façade that was beginning to bore him. Maybe he needed to know because he wanted to figure out just how much of me he had a hold on.

Jesse had turned away from me again, both of hands in his hair as he shook his head. “Christ, it’s just not coming out right, is it?”

“What?” I asked, seriously contemplating moving closer to the exit.

But even before I could move, Jesse turned to me and said, “I need to know if you like me, because I like you.”

It was the most sincere way he’d said it.

But then he scoffed and said, “Or I don’t know. Lately, I haven’t felt like that anymore.”

This was it, I thought again. I really did bore him. I was so strung up on the fact that I didn’t even consider how Kale would have reacted to it. How he would react to having to share his sob story with someone else to get some other girl to do his dirty work.

“Well.” I slowly stood up, averting my gaze when Jesse turned to me. “I think it’s time to go, then.”

“What?” Jesse moved in front of me, blocking my path. “Carson, I have to know.”

“Why?” I shouted, suddenly annoyed. “God, what does it even matter to you? You just said you don’t like me anymore, anyway! Why is it so important?”

“Because I don’t like you. I…” Jesse trailed off, and then shook his head violently. “Why is this so hard to say?”

“Just spit it out!”

He heaved, and then said, “You left with that guy at school.” I grimaced, not liking the sudden change of subject. “Why?”

I bit my lip. “Well, why not?”

Jesse laughed a humorless laugh and turned away from me. “Why not?” he repeated, more to himself than me.

“Yeah, why not?” Something urged me on then. “It didn’t look like it mattered to you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Enlighten me.”

Jesse moved away from the door, and even though I had just been planning to leave through it, I didn’t. I watched as he moved to the other side of the room, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “I…” he said quietly. “I did care.”

I didn’t respond.

“I didn’t want you to go but I let you,” Jesse went on, still facing away from me. “I had never been in that situation before. Like…I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to just let you do what you wanted or pick you up and run off with you. And that was why I went to your house today, to see you.” He turned around to look at me. “I had to see you. I guess just thinking that you missed school to skip with him drove me like, crazy. And I couldn’t focus on anything.

“But I need you to know that it scares me.” Jesse’s breathing looked to be becoming ragged, and I involuntarily took a step back when he moved toward me. “It scares me, Carson. To feel like that for someone scares the shit out of me.”

My mind had fallen silent, which was why the only word I could muster was, “Why?”

“Because! Goddammit, Carson, I like you!”

The whiplash was starting to get to me. One moment he said he liked me, the other he didn’t, and then he’d turn around and say he did again. “Why, though? Look at us, Jesse. Since the very beginning I’ve been nothing but mean to you. All I’ve ever told you was to stay away because I couldn’t stand you. What could possibly make you like me?”

“I don’t know. I…” He met my eyes. “I guess you just sort of grew on me.”

“Well, forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Am I?” I taunted. “Honestly? I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you. I’ve tried every tactic in the book to get you to leave me alone, and now this? I don’t understand how you can react such a way for me running off with someone else. I’ve given you no reason to care, so aside from liking me, why do you really care so much?”

“Jesus, I care because it hurts!”

“Why?”

"Because it just does!” he screamed right back. “It hurts wanting someone who doesn’t want me! It hurts trying to convince you that I can change! It hurts that no matter what I do, you refuse to look past what I’ve done! It hurts that you wouldn’t care if I left you alone! But most of all…” I swear I saw something glisten in his eyes. “Most of all…it hurts that you hate me while I’m still here loving you anyway.”

The alarms in my head were ringing, and with them came one word: Run.

I suddenly wanted to run away from the look Jesse was giving me. I wanted to run away from how wrong I’d been. I wanted to run away from how my stomach flipped as a reaction to his words. I wanted to run away from the fact that even though he was standing there in front of me with his heart in his eyes, I was still finding ways to doubt him—still trying to make myself believe that he was lying to me.

Because all this time I’d been badgering myself over the wrong things. And as silence descended upon the room, the right ones started bubbling to the surface.

I’d told Jesse before in my own twisted way that I didn’t hate him, but it didn’t occur to me until now that I actually might like him.

And somehow I hated feeling that way. It was like standing on a steep precipice, ready to fall over with no one to hold me back.

All I knew was that I was safer if I just denied it all. Denied that picturing him with Farrah made me want to hurl myself through a wall. Denied that maybe before what happened on the bridge, the date actually had meant something to me. Denied that a part of me liked how his hand felt in mine. Denied that maybe I liked him more than I wanted to admit. Denied that maybe I was wrong to even consider hurting him.

Because just like him, I was scared too. I was scared because, just like him, I’d never been in this kind of situation before. And where I was in a situation I wasn’t familiar with, I usually got agitated. And when I got agitated, I usually acted out on it.

I hardened my face, clenching my fists at my side. Jesse watched me all the while, his lips still parted. After paying more attention, I realized that he looked like he wanted to break the silence. To take back what he said, to keep going, or to ask me to leave, I didn’t know. And I didn’t wait to find out.

Run.

So, I did.

Or, at least I started to.

I turned to the exit faster than I’d ever moved before in my life, but I had only taken a step toward it—only one, before I brought myself to a halt.

I’d run away from Jesse the day I’d left with Dalton thinking that he hadn’t really cared. That was why I’d pushed Jesse for answers just now—hoping, in some way, that he was lying about his feelings for me and that if I pushed hard enough, then he’d admit that whatever speck of a relationship we had was only for a game.

But he didn’t.

If I had stayed to study him a bit longer, that day with Dalton, I would have seen the inner turmoil in his eyes. And if that weren’t enough, the denial within me was so strong that I hadn’t even given thought to how Katrina had all but told me she’d seen it in him herself.

When am I going to start seeing things that are right in front of me?

I glanced back at Jesse.

He had fell back against the recliner the moment I had moved to leave, his eyes still roaming along the floor as if he himself couldn’t believe he had said what he had.

I pressed my lips together and looked back to the door.

And then I rolled my eyes. “God damn you.”

Before my mind could catch up to what my body was doing, I turned back to Jesse, and his eyes only got to touch mine for a second before I wrapped my hands around his neck and pressed my mouth against his.

And that’s where things got a little funny.

The last time we’d kissed, it had been fast and furious and I’d been so taken by surprise that I had been stock still the entire time.

But this time, it was Jesse who’d frozen up.

Just as quickly as I’d pressed my lips to his, I pulled away, opening my eyes to find that Jesse’s were still closed. I was about to cue a dramatic exit and make a run for it now, but just as I brought my hands back, Jesse’s suddenly clasped around my wrists, his eyes opening slowly to meet mine.

It had been easy to do what I had because he’d been leaning against the couch, knocking off a good two inches of his height. But when he stood up, with his hands still restraining mine, he was slightly taller than me, and when he just as easily brought his mouth down to meet mine, I realized that this was really the point of no return.

At first the pressure of the kiss was that of a tender one—one that pretty much made it clear that he wasn’t even sure if he was going to get punched for this or not.

And I kind of wanted to punch him.

But I found that kissing him back was a much easier feat.

Soon enough, I was lost in his kiss, and his touch, and the way, when he’d released my hands and tangled them in my hair, he let out the softest of groans when the kiss deepened. He tasted of sin, the corrupted, and all things divine. Like a forbidden fruit. And I was reveling in it. So much so, that I brought my hands up to grip onto the lapels of his jacket, using the hold I had on him to yank him closer to me.

However, Jesse seemed to have another idea. The moment I tugged on him, he released my hair and all but ripped off the coat. We broke apart from the movement, only for a second as he tossed the article of clothing aside before he closed the distance again, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Our lips only got to brush against each other once, because out of nowhere, I was falling.

Literally.

Onto a couch.

The surprise of the fall made Jesse nearly lose his footing and made me accidentally kick a coffee table, knocking off a large, ornate vase that was situated on top of it.

Jesse and I paused for long enough to stare at it. It had shattered on the floor.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Jesse muttered. “My mom loved that vase.”

“Was it an antique?”

“From Shanghai.”

I pursed my lips at the broken glass. “And what are we talking here? Like thirty…forty dollars…?”

“A little over six hundred, actually.”

My eyes widened. I sat up on the couch, mumbling curses under my breath.

But just as I was about to make a move to stand up, Jesse turned back to me and pushed onto my shoulder, easing me back onto the couch. “She’ll understand,” he was saying, his eyes not on my eyes, but on my mouth. “I—Sh-She’ll understand.”

“Understand? You idiot—”

My words were cut off when Jesse pressed his lips against mine again. And I soon found myself lost in it again, so lost that I hadn’t given any second thought to how Jesse moved so that he was hovering over me. I felt his dark hair brushing against the skin of my face like the tips of a fine feather.

For lack of a better way to describe it, we made out like that for while. When Jesse lowered himself onto me, I felt every line of his body join with mine like two puzzles pieces. His hands detached themselves from my hair, running down my neck until they reached my waist, the movement riding my shirt up. And when I felt his skin against mine, it was hot to touch. Burning.

I didn’t think anything could break us apart at this point. And that proved true when my phone began to ring and nothing changed.

When the ringing died down, only to restart again a few seconds later, I broke away from Jesse, only a little surprised when his kisses didn’t stop, but only moved to my cheek and my jaw and the spot on my neck where my pulse was beating out of control.

The shrill sound of my ringer amplified when I brought my phone out, and looking at the screen, I saw that someone I put under the name as Darth Vader was calling. It took a moment for me to realize that it was my dad.

He must have returned home already to find I wasn’t there.

I swallowed.

Composing myself, I looked back to Jesse to find that he was leaving a soft trail of kisses down my collarbone to my shoulder.

"I have to go," I whispered to him.

His lips ran over the skin of my neck. And in a murmur that shook my core, he breathed, "I don't want you to go."

And before I could contest that, he pressed his mouth against mine again. Hotly. More desperate and urgent than the last. Whatever distance I had managed to sit up was immediately distinguished when the force of Jesse’s kiss pushed me onto my back again.

And just like that, it was like I’d forgotten I’d gotten a call at all. Or that, when I returned home, I'd be in even more trouble than I already was.

Everything just seemed to shut off when I’d closed my eyes. Like a light switch. And for the first time—because I’d only ever kissed one guy before Jesse—I let instinct take over. Jesse seemed to know well enough what he was doing to sustain the both of us, but I still couldn’t help the slight shake of my arms when I wrung them around his neck, pulling him closer if it were even possible.

I was vaguely aware of his hand running down the side of my body, but when he hooked his fingers under my knee did I shift under him in surprise.

And when I did, my phone, that I had lain beside me on the couch, shifted also. A good part of me wanted to make a grab for it, but I didn't.

Because I was lost in Jesse's vices, and when the phone clattered to the floor, I couldn't find it in me to care when the ringing finally stopped.

* * *

A/N:

This was the mOST I have ever written on a single chapter in my entire life and you guys might not see the big deal bc this is so late but wow, am I proud of myself. Seriously, 10 pages on word. The reason for the lateness and my lack of activity is actually due to a number of things though: Once Upon A Time marathons [The Hunstman, Captain Hook, and Peter Pan make me wanna cry], silent reading around on this site, and the fact that blocks have been hitting this story more than the others I'm working on.

Also, if you have time to listen to the music I set to the side, please do. I had it on repeat for hours while I finished this chapter up.