Unscripted

The Unexpected

"Caiden, you are too close." I said, his hand wrapped around my neck, the other tracing slow circles beneath my t-shirt.

"And you are still not pushing me away." He said, leaning closer to my ear. "Just say it, Iliana... you love it when I am this close." He didn't say it — he declared it. 

Flashback

I was standing at the door of my best friend's house — rang the bell minutes ago, but no one still answered. I was about to ring it again, but someone opened the door. There he stood, her brother. 

"Hi, Caiden. Is Naomi home?" I asked while holding my books in my hand. 

"Oh it's you Iliana? No she is not but she said she'll be back in half an hour, come inside." He said, stepping aside.

I stepped in "Thank you." I said thinking to myself. 'She called me here and is not home herself. Who does that?' I took a seat on the couch, keeping the books on my lap.

"Here you go." He said offering me a glass of water, his hand brushed against mine.  He walked to the end of the couch to sit — keeping the distance. 

I drank some water, and kept it on the table in front of me. My hand tapping on my book, eyes wandering back to the wall clock again and again. 'ugh Naomi, where are you?' I thought to myself again and again. The time kept passing — from 10 minutes to 20 to now more than half an hour. I picked my phone to call her but a notification popped up. 

Message from Naomi

Dumbo>>>>
Hey I got a little busy out here, so I won't be able to make it back home on time. 
If you want, you can study alone, if not let's began tomorrow at your place.

Me
yeah, you are doing this again.

Dumbo>>>>
what again?

Me
Should I remind you? Last month, and 2 months back....

Dumbo>>>>
yeah yeah yeah got it. Sorry sorry won't happen again.

Me
alright bye, see you tomorrow. 

I slid my phone back into my pocket and clutched my books against my chest. Standing to leave. Before I heard Caiden's voice.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"oh, Naomi isn't coming so I'll leave." I said taking a step towards the main door.

"wait!!" He speaks in a rush. "I mean, your time is precious as well. How about I help you out?"

"Help me?" I blinked, confused. "But do you know anything about what my project is?" I asked looking at him.

"Exploring OCD Symptoms in High-Achieving Students, Naomi was telling me about it." He answered. "She did her research with me, so her research papers in my room." He added.

 He smiled like he already knew I'd say yes — and somehow, that annoyed me.

"oh, I...." I hesitated. He wasn't Naomi. But he looked genuinely interested — almost sincere and 'I really needed those papers.' "Fine, it's important so, I'll stay." 

As I said so, I could see a glimpse of shimmer in his eyes, as if a dream of his came true. I followed him to his room; and it was nothing like I expected. A bulletin board, with daily, weekly, monthly, yearly and even life goals. His notes settles on the table — looks like he was studious as well. And way too many posters of motorcycles and racing plastered the walls — like the teenage boy never quite grew up. Everyone at university knew him as the biker guy — and while not everyone admitted it, most girls had at least some kind of crush on him. And why won't they, he was a biker but also the council president.