Chapter 4 - Club Nights
Rose's POV
I lay across a float, sunbathing in the pool. Mum and Daryll have a few of their friends over for lunch. They have kids around my age, but I'm not in the mood for dealing with hormonal teenagers. I get enough of that from the almost constant phone calls from Fibi and Tyler. Kimber's calls are more reasonable than the two and six a.m. calls of Fibi and Tyler.
I lean my head back against the float and frown as I recall the memories of three nights ago.
"Kale?"
"Yeees, Rosey," he sings.
"Why did you kiss me?"
"What do you mean? To jog your memories of course, " he says.
I glare at him. "There are other ways to jog a person's memories."
He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, "It worked didn't it?"
"Actually, no. It didn't," I say.
"What? You clearly remembered me after I kissed you," he says, confused by my words.
"I remembered who you were before you kissed me, " I confess.
"So wait, are you saying that you wanted to kiss me," he asks, even more confused by the confession.
"He'll no! I remembered after you called me Rosey, but before I could say anything you were trying to shove your tongue down my throat, " I explain.
"Oh," he says, finally understanding. I swear that boy is slow.
I let out a sigh. "Kale, do you still carry around that thing?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
I kick him in the knee and he hisses in pain. "What the hell was that for?"
"You're an ass. You could have shown it to me to jog my memories," I exclaim.
"Oh, yeah," he laughs nervously.
The 'thing' we're speaking about is a picture of Cade, Kale, and I after one of our infamous ice cream food fights at their house. I was 14 in the picture and Kale and Cade were 17 and 18. Their eldest brother, Erik, had taken it while we were laughing around their grand piano, which was also covered in chocolate and vanilla ice cream. It was taken two months before I left Malibu. Two months before things got complicated.
I narrow my eyes at Kale, before letting out a deep sigh and shaking my head in defeat. "Kale, what are you doing here," I ask.
"What do you mean? I'm talking to you," he says, like I just asked the stupidest question in the world.
"Kale, don't play games with me. You live in Malibu, why are you in Washington," I ask.
It's Kale's turn to let out a sigh. "I missed you Rosey. You've been gone too long," he says.
I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing that's not the only reason he's here.
"I've tried to get in contact with you over the years, but you've changed your number. I even tried to talk to you on Facebook, Twitter, and even Instagram. You've deleted all of your social media accounts though. I was worried. It's not like you not to be social media savvy. It took me five years to convince your dad to let me know where you were. And the only reason he told me was because you stopped calling and texting him all together three months ago. Your mom doesn't update him on anything, so he's been in the dark for the past three months. He got worried. He knows your mom takes business trips and he was worried that something may have happened to you," he says, all in one breathe, a concerned look on his face.
