You wrote "Don't Forget"

Chapter 13- Once in a Blue Moon

I took a deep breath, shaking my head. I turned around to look towards where Luke was sitting.

He was sitting on the coffee table, alone. His drink in front of him, resting next to the book he was reading. I squinted, trying to read the title of the book but I couldn't quite tell from this far.

I took a step towards him.

His hair was a beautiful, floppy mess, dangling above his hooded eyebrows. His eyes were wandering over the book, flickering through words at a lightening speed. His hands were tucked under his chin, his body relaxed, poised, magnificent.

I took another step towards him.

He looked up at me. I paused, my mouth opening - trying to mumble a greeting but then unable to find any words and closing again.

He was looking at me. He was smiling. The gleam of recognition burned bright in his eyes.

"Tristan! It's so nice to see you again." He said, sounding genuinely happy. Before I could express how happy was I to see him, he rose to his feet and pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you again for how you helped me find Lucy. I am eternally grateful." He said. But I couldn't hear him.

I couldn't hear him because I could hear how fast my heart was beating in his chest. I wondered whether Luke could feel the beating of my heart and whether he would think it was weird that it was beating so fast.

I willed my heart to calm down and not freak out on me.

The fact that Luke smelled like the clear sea breeze didn't help. The fact that his body was so warm didn't help. The fact that I was too aware, unnaturally aware of everywhere his body came in contact with mine didn't help.

I closed my eyes, willing my mind to not freak out.

Finally, after what felt like too soon and too long, we pulled apart.

"You're welcome." I said, when I finally found my voice. Luke's eyes were looking at me, I looked away.

"Will you join me?" He asked, gesturing towards the table where he had been sitting before. The book he was reading still lay on the table.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to form coherent words. I wondered why Luke had this effect on me. I, Tristan Williams, the resident playboy of my school had never ever been flustered around a boy no matter how hot they were. I told myself that this was nothing. That Luke was just an acquaintance and there was absolutely no reason in the world as to why I should be freaking out now.

I sat down across from Luke, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. I looked down at the book on the table.

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez, my literature major senses were shooting up like fireworks. It was a good read, filled with magic, wonder and never-seen-before imagery - I loved it with all my heart.

"So, do you like it so far?" I asked, gesturing towards the book.

"This is the ninth time I am reading it. I have always loved it since I first read it in high school. Reading this book makes me feel like I am going home. It is one of my favorites." He said, his eyes glimmering in the way they only do when someone talks about something they love dearly.

"It is one of my favorites too. I read it in college, a bit later than you, but I found something in that book that I had never found before. I found a bit of myself in it. In the midst of all the craziness, magic and politics, I found something familiar. Maybe it was the crazy family or being familiar in the unfamiliar, I never quite figured it out but there is something about it." I said, looking at the flora-covered cover of the book.

Luke smiled. I was so relieved to see that he hadn't lost his smile since the last time we met. His smile was one of those smiles which makes anyone who sees it smile too.

"So, tell me something about yourself. I never got to know you the last time we met." He said. I wondered whether he remembered the fact that I had scribbled my number across his arm. He probably didn't. He looked so sad and so broken, I was surprised that he was sitting here with a smile on his face right now.

"Ah, I am an accountant." I said, with a sour look on my face. He chuckled.

"I take it that that job doesn't bring you eternal joy." He said, a good-natured grin capturing his lips in a warm embrace.

"You have no idea. What about you?"

"I am a photographer. Usually the stuff I do is for magazines but I like the pictures I take personally more than my other work. A guy has to make money somehow I guess." He said. I could tell unlike me, he liked what he did.

"That's good. I think it's the best gift in the world if you can turn your passion into a job."

"So, what's your passion?"

"Writing. I majored in English Literature. Look where that got me." I said, rolling my eyes. He gave me a sympathetic look, his hands touching my hand lightly.

"Well, it's never too late to try, Tristan."

First Alejandro and now Luke, I wondered whether the world was trying to tell me something. Then, I remember that of course I wasn't worthy of the world's attention and therefore it would never try to tell me something.

"Well, we'll find out, won't we?" I said, taking a sip of my coffee. Only then did his gaze shift from me and towards his beverage.

He smiled, taking a sip, his eyes drifting back towards me. His other hand still resting on top of my left hand.

"I hope you didn't think that I was being rude when I didn't call you that day. Something happened and I wasn't myself because of it. I managed to accidentally erase your number off my hand and when I finally realized it, it was too late." Luke said, a guilty smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"It's okay. I wasn't even expecting you to call. I was just worried about you." I said. The truth was that a tiny part of me expected something, anything. I tried to suppress that part of me because it scared me. I couldn't go on expecting things from every man I met across the street. I wouldn't be able to survive that.

"To remedy that, can I have your phone number now?" He said, looking at me expectantly.

My mouth flew open and no words came out. He chuckled.

"Earth to Tristan! It's okay if you don't want to give me your number, you can just tell me." He said, giving me a good-natured smile.

" No, no, no, no, no. I mean, yes my number, yes you can have it. I want you to have it. I was just surprised." I squeaked out strings of broken sentences.

He grinned, handing me his phone. I punched in my digits and handed it back to him.

This guy was far too trusting. I would never hand my phone over to a stranger like that.

But when I looked into his eyes, I wondered whether I would do it if the stranger was him.