Notice Me

Chapter 9: The Truth (Picture of Sam)

After an intense few Moments of kissing, Tristan finally managed to pull away from me. A soft whimper escaped my lips and I pouted from the empty feeling I got when he separated us. He rested his forehead against mine, calmly breathing in and out with his eyes closed. Like he was cherishing the Moment, as a content smile spread across his lips.

"Want to come over?" Tristan asked, his eyes flickering open to catch me ogling him. Damn he totally snagged me perving on him! As if he could hear what my thoughts were, the punk had the nerve to smirk at me. Without even waiting for my answer, Tristan grabbed a hold of my hand and began tugging me towards his house. Pushy much?

"Ok?" I agreed, knowing I was still going over to Tristan's even if I answered no. Guiding me past his front porch, Tristan kept on walking towards a cement path that led us along the side of the house. We came to a stop in front of a door, which was on the opposite side of my house. It would explain why I've never seen it before. What was this, a side entrance possibly? Wow, this is pretty cool. Why doesn't my house have a side entrance?

Removing a set of keys from his cargo shorts, Tristan unlocked the door. "Welcome to my humble abode." He smiled. Waving his arm out in front of him, he gestured for me to enter first. What's he talking about? I've been in his house before...plenty of times to have dinner with his Mom and mine or to drop off stuff to his parents.

I can't say I've ever come in through this way though. Walking in and taking in my surroundings, my mouth dropped open in shock. My eyes immediately glimpsed over at Tristan with a look of adoration. How lucky is this guy that his parents would do this for him?

"Seriously?" I breathed out a deep breath. "You have your own apartment, inside your parent's house?" I mean its not like it was a huge place or anything like that, but it was something to call his own. There was an area with a flat screen TV, his PS3 and Xbox gaming systems, and a sofa. Attached to this were a small kitchen area with a fridge, microwave and a table with two stools. Then there were two other doors which Tristan explained were his bedroom and bathroom.

"Yea, my Dad and I built it when I turned seventeen. It used to be our family room. We just added some sheet rock and paint, oh and a stand up shower turning the half bathroom into a whole one." Tristan answered proudly. "Want something to drink?" He asked walking over to the fridge.

"No thanks." I responded plopping myself down on his sofa. I was beginning to feel really nervous all of a sudden...being here...alone with Tristan. It's not that I don't trust him, because for some odd reason, I do with all my heart. The reason for the nervousness was because I wasn't sure I trusted my body and myself.

Tristan awakens feelings and emotions inside of me that I never knew existed. I feel like a plant that was once close to being shriveled and dried up, then someone came along giving it water and sunlight reviving me. He gave me a sideways glance from where he was standing at the fridge. "You ok?" Tristan asked with raised eyebrows.

Nodding my head, I gave him a small reassuring smile. "I'm fine." I remarked licking my lips, which were suddenly very dry. He handed me a bottle of water, coming over to sit down next to me on the sofa. Is it me or is it extremely hot in here? I wondered as Tristan continued to stare at me with curiosity. He leaned over and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. We sat there for an hour watching an episode of That 70's Show, laughing at Fez and his air headedness.

When the show was over Tristan switched the TV off and turned to face me. I could sense he wanted to tell me something, but by the look on his face he didn't know how. "Let's take a walk, I want to show you something." Tristan suggested as he stood up and held his hand out for me to take.

A walk sounds like a pretty good idea right about now, considering the fact that I'm still experiencing hot flashes. Tristan didn't seem to be phased in the least bit. We left out the side entrance, Tristan holding onto my hand tightly. I know my palm is sweaty from being so close to him, but he didn't seem to mind it.