Reminisce #Repost

Prologue

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Cassandra
"You're not mad, are you?"

I shake my head.

"But you're pouting and being so quiet. What are you scribbling?"

He peers over my shoulder, at the rough sheet of paper on the desk and reads out, "Eden is an idiot."

"You really are," I mumble. "One that's going to get us into more trouble if he doesn't stay quiet."

Mr. Yaya sleeps at the front of the classroom. The old man's head drapes over the back of his office chair. His arms cross over his torso and his legs stretch, shoes peeking out from under his desk. Soft snores lift and drop his slouched form, but I'm still skeptical about the depth of his sleep. Above his head on the marker board looms the word, "Detention."

"Why exactly are you mad, Cassandra?" Eden asks while drumming his fingers on my desk.

I put my hand over his. "You're being too loud." With just me, him, and the teacher at front, everything seems to be bouncing back and forth.

"Isn't it funny we're the only ones in here, today? Makes me feel like a badass. Do you feel like a badass, Cassie?"

I glare at him for the first time since we've been in here. "Please, go back to your seat, dummy." I manage a hushed tone but only because I'm grinding my teeth.

"Grace was nothing more than my project partner. Stop being so jealous."

I scrunch up the sheet of paper and haul it at his head. Perfect shot, little impact. "Nice!" I snicker a little. "I'm not jealous. It's also not my fault we're stuck in here; It's yours. You're the one stupid enough to try passing notes in chemistry class."

He chuckles. "You are so cute."

"I'm not." I cross my arms over my chest, sticking my chin up.

"She's got pretty hair and pretty eyes, but," he makes a dramatic pause with his index finger for emphasis, "I'm sworn to you."

"Poor lines, Eden." I roll my eyes.

"Seriously?" He puts his hands on his chest, pretending to be hurt. "I've been working on that all week."

"Go work harder, and do it at your end of the classroom." I huff, glancing at Mr. Yaya. He's still sound asleep, thankfully.

Eden stands up, and I sigh in relief. Then, he dives in and plants a long kiss on me, and it overwhelms me the same way sweet chocolate does.

He smirks with his pink lips wet and glossy. "I'm only ever going to be interested in that spark I feel right here." He points at his stomach. "You feel it too, right?"

I scoff. "Smart move. You wouldn't be pulling such a stunt if we weren't the only ones stuck in here."

"There's a teacher here, too."

"Snoring pretty loudly, too."

"Admit you liked it," he singsongs

"Teenage boys are the worst."

"Still not the point."

"Fine, I did. Go away."

"You did what?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I liked the kiss. Now, go away!"

His smirk eases into a smile. "Then, I guess we're done with this conversation."

The second he turns his back, I pick up the balled sheet of paper from where it landed and doodle across the top: Grace Nicholson, striking out her name as quickly as I've written it.

Three months ago she stepped into the picture as an exchange student from Canada. Three months from today she'll leave, but not before becoming a good friend of Eden's. Not without taking a place in his precious heart.

The bell goes off minutes later, and I stuff the wrinkled sheet into my school blazer before Eden gets any ideas. I strut out, not getting to see the teacher jerk up and sheepishly wipe drool from his face-but Eden fills me in with a hearty laugh once he catches up to me at our hang out spot.

The grass is coated with fallen leaves, yellow and brown, dried and crispy. Autumn's magic is too far off for the flamboyant reds and oranges I've seen in the movies. The season has no grip in this tropical part of the world.

"You should have seen him, Cassie. He looked so dumb-Oh for pete's sake! What's it like, forty degrees?" He takes off his blazer, perspiration visible under the arms of his long sleeved school shirt.

I do the same then kick off my shoes and peel off my knee length socks. I make a mental note to go with ankle length tomorrow.

"Look at you being such a rebel." He ruffles my hair, smiles.

I groan and pull loose curls back into their high bun, but his shiny reddish-brown eyes and the showcase of his pearly white has me mentally kicking myself. Do I still have a reason to be mad at him?

I lean on the tree that's located on the unused field behind the classroom block, which causes spikes from the trunk to dig into my back-the closest I'll ever get to those fancy acupuncture treatment Mama can never afford, but Aminata and her friends keeps bragging about. I dread one day it will be cut down and the field will be converted into something else. Maybe a tennis court like it's been rumoured, and no one else would cry except me because they wouldn't understand it was more than just Eden dragging me to this spot a year back. It was more than the shabby heart carving with a crooked E and a C to make the tree ours.

I fiddle with my fingers, and my toes nestle into fallen leaves and newly cut grass. Burrowing, my toes meet moist soil and my shoulders sag. "It's okay if you're friends with her. I'm being childish, and I'm sorry."

He's quiet, settles down on the grass, and rests his head on the tree bark. His sunlit hair is a compliment to the dark brown stem. I settle down as well. A light rustle in the branched leaves high up sends sunlit petals drizzling down on us. Some get caught in my dark brown hair.

I close my eyes and picture it in my mind. Blonde hair against brown bark. Yellow petals rested in brown hair. Head at peace on his shoulder. Brown hand in his pale one.

The contrast. The concept. Such beauty. Such imagery. Hang that in an art gallery, the voice in my head says like a crazed photographer. Obliging, I take out my pocket camera with my free hand and take a single shot of us together.

"What's the caption gonna be?" He asks with his thumb drawing circles on my knuckles.

"Priceless," I say.

"When you get it printed, I want a copy."

"You do?" It's the first time he's asked.

He looks down at my hand in his, but doesn't say a word. And that's fine because I know we're thinking the same thing. Captured in the same moment. I smile now. Maybe we'll be alright.

A/N: the comments don't all have to be about constructive criticism. If you enjoyed your read, a simple vote or appreciate comment is cool. I'm also open for discussion about anything or any topic that may spring up concerning this work. Cheers.