Falling Into. . .the Cracks?

Falling Into. . .the Cracks? (1.3)

Rob is being overly seductive today while Hartley is trying NOT to like him.

Rob's Point of View

The next day, Chace went off to work, Hartley drove the two little kids to daycare, and Rob sat in his room, typing dutifully on his laptop. He had to apply to law school soon, and had already started scouring the different Ivy League colleges. The June day was a bit humid, perhaps too much so, but Rob cracked open the window anyway. The house was eerily quiet and he found comfort in hearing cars pass and birds twitter. He had just closed his computer when a car pulled up in the driveway. Rob stood up and stretched, striding into the kitchen to make himself a drink. As soon as he was about to retreat back into his bedroom, he saw Hartley, looking perfectly disheveled. He didn't quite know if he had hoped he would run into her or not, but here she was. Rob sipped on his Vanilla Coke for a second as she gazed at him.

"Hey, Hartley," Rob said, waving his free hand in greeting as she stood there, almost waiting for him to speak. He felt awfully obtuse, invading their home this way. He found himself wondering where their parents were, but didn't fret on the subject. Instead, he focused on the way Hartley was staring at him with this certain look in his eyes that he couldn't quite place. Was it want? Was it hate? Was it just a look she gave every man? High schoolers were difficult to place. They often played this moody persona, while in all reality they were really quite cheerful. He had no clue what act Hartley might be putting on, though. He'd only just met her yesterday. "What're you up to?" She clutched a stack of different size white envelopes, a postcard, and a colorful magazine in her hands.

"Hi Rob," Hartley replied, her voice sound calm and dutiful as if she was obliged to answer. It was almost as if she begrudged him the way she spoke. "I'm just about to clean the house. My boyfriend Michael is coming over for dinner tonight." Rob couldn't help but notice how she put extra emphasis on the word 'boyfriend'. It was almost as if she was trying to stay away from him just as much as he was trying to stay away from her. She smiled a small smile, but Rob grinned back at her anyway. "So. . ." Hartley said, trailing off a little as she set the envelopes down on the coffee table.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled a deep breath of air. "Maybe I could help you clean?" Rob inquired, waggling his dark eyebrows a little. He found it amazingly cute when she stared at him with that perpetual look of confusion and pondering on her face. He too tried to appear pensive, but he couldn't help but smile at her as if there was no tomorrow. Smiling had always been Rob's thing; he could rarely be found without his teeth showing and his lips curled upward.

Hartley sucked in air as if she was hungry. "I guess. . ." She dragged out her words as if saying them were difficult. "That'd be okay." She went on to tell him what to do and where to work. He obliged, doing everything she instructed. When they were finally finished, she collapsed on the couch tiredly, Rob soon following her. He looked over and smiled once more. "Finished," Hartley said, a triumphant tone ringing in her voice. She sounded proud to be finally through with work.

"Yes," Rob agreed, "Finished." They sat in silence like that until Rob looked over at her and she looked over at him. And then, as if by some odd magnetic pull, Rob leaned in and kissed her. Her lips tasted like coffee and watermelon Chapstick; she smelled of Herbal Essences and sweetness. He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her into him closer, wrapping her in a hug almost. She seemed confused for a second, her lips numb against his, but then she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck. Rob couldn't breathe for a second, but he hardly bothered coming up for air. Hartley was so intoxicating, so kissably perfect that he couldn't release her. She showed no sign of resistance as she pressed her pale, pink lips against his tightly.

Hartley's Point of View

What am I doing? She thought, her lips locking with Rob's almost perfectly. His lips were so foreign compared to Michael's, so unknown. She liked the way he held her, as if he owned her but was also giving her the control. He smelled of boy always and tasted of Vanilla Coke. She could've kissed him forever, if only she didn't have a concious. Hartley's eyes landed on the clock and she instantly pulled away. It was five-forty-five and Michael would be there at six-fifteen. She should've started cooking already, at least have something ready by the time he got here. Hartley pulled away from him, aware of how his lips seemed to beg for more but she couldn't even muster the ability to look up at him.

"I've got to go cook," Hartley whispered almost inaudibly, trying not to eye him again. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, but she quickly withdrew them, sliding them onto his chest, pushing him away. Rob's hands slid from her waist almost guiltily. Suddenly, Hartley's eyes stung with tears. What a dirty cheater, she was. She would never tell Michael, not ever. He'd be terribly crushed. "I'm sorry Rob," Hartley told him, "I. . . That meant nothing." Even she knew she was lying, even as she said the words. He knew it too, she could tell. Rob's green eyes were shimmering with confusion and something else she couldn't place. "I have a boyfriend who I love." Hartley bit her lip. Did she love Michael?

Rob stood up, mussing his hair with one tanned hand. "You're right, I know. I'm sorry, it's my fault." Rob said, taking the blame which was not all the way his. After all, she had kissed him back and had not once protested, until the end. "I'm sorry," Rob repeated, slinking off to the guest bedroom like a scared puppy with his tale tucked between his legs. It was only then that Hartley began to cry. How could she ever cheat on Michael?

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