The Want of the Heart - R. G. (#Wattys2017)

11: The Girl Who Wanted More

a/n: Another short chapter. Expect another one soon. :)

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The next morning, I look for Roman at school. I need to talk to him. I need to apologize for last night. I go throughout the day looking for him, but with no luck, I don't find him anywhere.

Roman, where are you?

No response.

Please, Roman. I'm sorry about last night. Can we talk...?

Still nothing. I guess I deserve it. The way that I've treated Roman the whole time, and the way that things went last night -- I don't know why I'm so surprised. I've been a bitch the entire time, and he's been a douchebag.

As the day comes to an end, I try texting Roman again.

I get it. You're probably mad at me. I messed up. I deserve this.

But please. I'm begging you. Don't do this, Roman.

Please just give the chance to explain. I promise I can make things up to you.

A lot was going on last night, and my emotions got the best of me. Just talk to me.

I spend the night tossing and turning. I wonder if things could have gone differently. Maybe that first day could have gone differently. Maybe we wouldn't be where we are now if I hadn't have been such a bitch.

"Do I know you?" he asked me.

I could have smirked at him. "I bet you wish you did," I could have said.

His eyes would scan my body up and down. "Oh, hell yeah," he would mutter.

I would shut my locker door and lean up against it, looking cool like they do in the movies. "So, what can I do for you, Roman?" I would ask him.

He would smirk. "First, you could give me your name. Then--"

I would hold up my finger and cut him off, "One thing at a time, doll face."

He would stare at me. "Okay...then, the name first."

I would smile and cross my arms. "Zoe."

I shake my head and push away the thought. I keep wanting to reimagine how things went. I want things to be better.

The day he said my name. He stood so close to me that I could almost feel his lips on mine. His eyes moved to my lips, and my breath hitched. I remember the way that he smirked at me when he heard it. I should have kissed him that day.

It was the end of the day, the teachers were in a meeting, and everyone was focused on getting out of the building; the moment was perfect. I would have kissed him right on the mouth; even if someone had seen us right at that moment.

Or that moment on the dance floor. I wanted to take him away. We would have driven away, driven to a cliff or something. Not the most romantic setting to lose your virginity in, and probably not the most comfortable.

I get in the car and sit there for a minute, running my fingers through my hair. I lay back and let out a sigh; then I pull down the visor and look at my appearance in the mirror, fixing a smudge in my makeup. I put the visor back up and look out my window, seeing other students walking to their cars.

I shouldn't have kicked him out last night. Maybe he would have been at school today if I had done something differently.

I think back to the feeling of his lips as I kissed him. He tasted like booze; not the cheap kind you find in dive bars, the kind that you get during fancy parties that rich people have. There was also the taste of tears falling from my eyes as I found myself conflicted. His lips were cold from the rain water that was dripping from his hair. They were soft, and the way that he held me...

I remember I backed away, clutching onto his tee shirt for a moment as I rested my forehead against his. I could feel his eyes on me, watching and waiting for my next move. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again. I wanted this moment to last, but I knew what I was going to get myself into, and I knew what the endgame was going to be.

It's what it always is with Roman. He walks away unscathed, and the other person always ends up hurt.

But I wanted to kiss him again, and I wanted to keep kissing him until both of our lips were chapped and we had to break away to catch our breath. I wanted to hold him the way he was holding me, wrapping him in my arms to hold on to the only thing that actually felt right. It felt good to be desired, to be wanted. I hated Roman Godfrey, and I hated the way that he made me feel.

But it made me want him even more.