QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:
"And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more."
― Erica Jong
Dedication: @justreading1234 (Because she is Bayan and the nicest person I've ever met.)
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Everything has gotten awkward between us," I complain as I'm drying my hair and holding the phone in my other hand. I've just taken a shower and now, preparing for the dinner. Calvin will be here in less than thirty minutes.
"It is normal, Jack, you've rejected him."
"I know but," – I push the window close with my arm, since it send shivers through my body (I'm only in my pants and bra) – "still, it is so awkward. Like really. I can't even make a proper joke because I am so afraid of hurting him. What happens to me?" I breathe in shock. "Fuck, what is this?"
"What is what?"
"This," I say, tucking the phone between my shoulder and chin. I'm ruffling my hair and holding the dry machine with my left hand. "I'm totally turning into a caring puppy."
I hear him laugh from the other side of the line. "Love is in the air."
"Shut up."
"Are you drying your hair? What is that noise?"
"Yeah," I murmur, shutting down the machine and put it on my bed. "I'm preparing for the dinner. He'll come over, you know. I've just taken a shower – oh, I have no fucking idea what to wear."
"So are you naked?"
"You wish, Ric." Bastard. "Uh, anyway, I'll go with my shorts."
"Good choice," he says. "Calvin isn't your boyfriend. You friendzoned him, don't forget that."
"You know why I've done it. I hate you."
"You love me."
Rolling my eyes at his annoying puns, I change the topic. "Why did you call me, by the way?"
"I was going to ask you out. Tonight. Maybe we could drink something and have some fun."
"Sorry babe, I'm busy," I mock. "Call Megan. She must've missed you."
"Shut up – oh, and Jack, I have a match tomorrow. Will you be there?"
Ignoring him, I keep on, "I'm going," – I glance at the clock over my bedside. "he's almost here. Bye." Ending the call, I immediately stand up and walk to my wardrobe. I immediately find my mini shorts and a decent t-shirt. I note myself that I should tidy up my wardrobe sometime soon but I am sure I'll forget it. I push it and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look good – I am Jack, of course I do.
Someone knocks the door, probably my mother. "Come in."
It is actually Calvin, and as he sees me in my underwear as usual, he gasps and shuts the door again. I can't help but laugh – this guy is virgin. "Calvin, you can come in if you wish," I sing playfully but I hear him snort in return.
I immediately put them on and open the door. He looks like a tomato outside, and he spare a glance at me, looking down. "Why did you say come in?"
"Because I was available."
"Huh, yeah."
I take his hand and shove him downstairs. "I'll now formally introduce you to my mother."
He looks at me, rolling his eyes. "You know, we actually met. Twice."
"I wasn't around. So it doesn't count." I shrug, pulling him with me. When we enter to the kitchen, I espy my mother checking the meals and an amazing odour spreads over the kitchen. I love food. I want to marry food. She has prepared an amazing table and placed two candles at the centre of it, but haven't lit them yet. I remember how content she was when I told her I invited Calvin over. She's said she is going to prepare her best ever and I'm not going to be disappointed. I felt my heart shatter at there – seeing her trying so hard to make her only daughter happy. "Hey Mum," I greet her, and Calvin stands at the doorway, staring timidly.
"Hello again, Mrs. Pierce."
"Hey Calvin," my mum replies cheerfully. "Hope you like ravioli." Now, I gather where this delicious scent comes from. It's weird no matter how many times she's cooked for me, she'll be the best cook for me. Because it's a rare thing that Mum is cooking. Usually we order from somewhere or have frozen stuff in the fridge.
Calvin nods with a ghost of smile. He looks really uncomfortable. His eyes dart on me and I arch an eyebrow at him, for God knows why. He smiles at that – my face makes him smile. Should I be honoured or pissed off?
"Mum, we'll be in living room," I announce, pushing Calvin out by his shoulders.
"We should help your mother," he hisses, looking back.
"Nah, she doesn't like help." He sits on the couch and I slump beside him, lying down and nestling my head in his lap. "Do you like my mother?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"I don't know." I shrug. "She's not as cool as yours."
He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. "You'd have punched me if I said I don't."
"Of course, I would," I snap. "No one can dislike her."
He chuckles. "What I mean is your question was pointless in the first place."
I pause for a while and decide that he's right. "Around you, I'm running out of conversation," I blurt out of blue. Simultaneously, his look starts to change. "I don't know," I whisper, my eyes fixed on the ceiling rather than his face. I place my arm under my head and sigh. "You've changed me Cal. I, Jack, would never ever choke on words – sarcasm was my mother tongue. Now, with you, I can't be even rude. I am so kind and lovely, this almost scares me." I chuckle, looking up at his face. "I think I've got the kindness virus from you." It sort of eases the conversation, the purposefully-placed joke in the end. I hate that whenever I or he wants to say something more than intended, it goes to the same thing. The topic I want to avoid at all costs. "Seriously I've become Jackie Cookie."
He laughs at that. "There is no one that Sue cannot fix."
"Do you think I need to be fixed?"
"I think there is nothing wrong with you but you show it like that. I mean, like something is wrong with you. You are afraid to show your emotions off in all kind of ways. You pretend you are that tough girl who doesn't give a damn about anyone and you like hurting people..."
"Dude, I like hurting people."
"And you keep saying that you like hurting people," – he shoots me a glance – "but I know, deep down and utterly, you are a vulnerable person but you don't like to show it. Because it's probably the silliest thing one can ever do, to show that she's weak. Or he's weak. Gender doesn't really matter," – he sighs – "I've been reading many stuff online about gender so whenever I say something specifically, I feel the need to correct myself because we are equals, right? Well, anyway, what I mean is, Jacqueline Pierce, I can see through you."
"It almost sounded scary – I can see through you," I whisper. If you saw through me Cal, you would call me stupid for what I'm recently doing. You would say I'm a coward – a coward who is afraid of facing her own emotions rather than afraid of showing them off. Because my problem is never about showing my emotions off. I can show off my anger, sadness or annoyance. It's all about love and friendship. It is about positive emotions, you see? I don't know how to deal with them thus I have no fucking idea of showing them to others. First, I need to control them – but the problem is I can't. It's like – they are out of my hands. Messy. Perhaps the problem is I've never had enough of them – sufficient to share. Like a little amount of chocolate you insist on keeping all to yourself. I didn't have enough – I crave for more. When you want it to yourself, how can you share it? It's not selfish – a selfless person is the one who's had enough of love, or everything they needed. Selfishness isn't a quality you want to be, it is what life makes you be.
Mulling over his words and getting lost in my own thoughts, I let silence occur in as always. Until Mum yells from kitchen, and jerks me up from my thoughts. I glance at Cal, who is waiting for me to get up, and immediately stand up and head to the kitchen. She's prepared everything and the meals are also ready.
I wait until Calvin slowly steps forward, shooting a hesitant glance at me before sitting on the chair beside the fruit-decorated wall of our kitchen. It's one of those things I like in the house, all kinds of fruit printed on a crimson background, and I also love their concinnity with the wooden table. Our kitchen has the best decoration among the house, because one of Mum's friends suggested to decorate it that way and it was too good to resist. Mum doesn't like when someone interferes into her business thus it was a total surprise that she agreed to her friend's idea. The cupboards are darkish brown, and they look so bright when the light reflects on it.
I send a sideway grin through his way as I'm sat against him. Mum glances at us both, with a spoon in her hand and a ghost of pleasant smile – the kind she wears when she expects something – and right now, I know that's our plates. So I hand her mine and Calvin does the same. She puts ravioli and hands them back to us, carefully placing on the table. The heat spreading from it brushes my face, its scent fills my nose and waters my mouth. When I glimpse at Calvin, I catch him busy with smiling at Mum rather than ravioli in front of him. I lean over and take a bite from his ravioli with my fork even though I haven't touched mine yet. When he realises, it's too late because I already gulp down.
He stares at me with a fake annoyed expression and I smirk at him, taking another bite from my ravioli. "You have a thing for my food."
I chuckle, and I remember the first time I've ever stolen his fries. It was amazing – the day and immediately my mind crossed to the moment where we've been so close. Really close. I shake my head and glance at him but he has a thoughtful expression as if he is thinking the same thing as me. "I have a thing for food in general, Cal, don't take it personal."
Mum chuckles, leaning against the drawer and crossing her arms. "She is so happy around you Calvin. I'm glad to have officially met you." I shoot a deadly glance at her but she shrugs. I am not used to being embarrassed by my mother around my friends. It feels so foreign – to have friends to be embarrassed of and a mother who actually cares about my friends and me. I wouldn't believe it if someone told me a couple months ago.
"It's so delicious, Mrs. Pierce, I love it." He smiles a bit. "Also, thanks for the cookies you've sent the previous day."
"Glad you like them, I can always bake some for you, Calvin." Oh, they are getting along.
Minutes later, I'm done with my plate and Calvin, as always, still eats. This guy is so slow, what the fuck. "Calvin, will you finish today?"
"Jack," Mum interrupts warningly, "let him eat in peace."
I groan, rolling my eyes. A tiny grin plays around Calvin's lips as he continues to eat his ravioli. He spares a glance at me, then shrugs. Which gains him another eye-roll.
Finally, when he is done, I stop counting – it has been 300 seconds since I've started counting. He is as slow as a turtle. I drag him up to my room, excusing us from Mum. Climbing the stairs, Calvin hisses at me. "She's invited me here. We should've spent more time together – we didn't even properly talk."
"I want to show you something," I say instead. Not that people come over but I wouldn't show my secret den to everyone. There is a place which I pour down my feelings (anger, excitement or sadness): the roof. We enter my room again, and he scans around with slow steps as I walk to the window, pulling it up.
"I've already seen your room," he reminds expectantly.
I extend out my hand at him instead of speaking. He immediately holds it and we get out of the window, onto the roof. From my window, I can step on the roof and since no one notices me there, I've always considered it a secret place – where I can be alone as if I am not all the time. Alone on purpose, you know, because it's at least a choice I made. We sit, pulling our knees closer to our bodies and stand like that for a while – without any words. We watch the dusk, the reddish sun going down and disappearing between the buildings. It's the scenery that calms me. It's almost dark, no red shade left, just the tiny light of moon when he speaks again. "It is beautiful."
"I know." There is nothing else to say, because it is beautiful. Really breathtaking.
"I never knew you were the type."
"The type of what?"
"You know watching stars and dusk."
I glance at him, frowning. "I didn't know it had a type." He shrugs, his eyes on the moon. "I love the stars – I wish I were one of them. Fucking fascinating."
"If you didn't swear, I think you would be considered a star."
I huff, "How do you know that they don't swear? Maybe they do."
"Maybe," he hums.
"I always come here when I want to turn the world off," I explain. "Because nobody distracts me here."
He looks at me with a different kind of expression in his face, right before his lips curl with a sneaky grin. "Now, I do."
I always thought you'd never like me Calvin. It was easier, because I didn't need to hide anything. Now, you are looking at me like that and expect me to be witty or sarcastic but all I think about is you. And just you. "How was your day?" I whisper, breathless.
He doesn't say anything about how I changed the topic but answers, "It was okay. I have a new lab partner from now on."
"How is he?"
"She," he corrects me. "And she is really nice. And friendly. She's also clever that makes the whole thing easier, you know. It's totally a gift to have a smart lab partner."
"Oh," I say, gulping down my jealousy deep deep inside. "Who is she?"
"Jealous, Pierce?"
"Huh," I scoff. "Just tell me who she is, Cal."
He laughs. "Stella. You know the new student, right? I mean she's been around for four months or something so she can be considered as new. Probably you haven't heard of her."
"I did." Stella. Richard's girl. How coincidental.
"She is nice. I might introduce you both."
"I gathered she is nice," I spit out, averting my gaze on him, "since you've repeated it multiple times."
"Jealous, Pierce?" His grin spreads through the corner of his lips, making him look like a Cally Puppy. More like the latter.
"I'd be never jealous of a girl over you, Cal," I state, turning my body against him.
"Keep lying to yourself."
"Huh, do you think I'm lying? Why would I lie to you on that matter? You admitted you like me and if I felt something for you, wouldn't it be an opportunity to say it back? Why would I hold myself from saying it?"
"I don't know," he mumbles, gulping down. "But I know you aren't empty. You can't be empty, come on." Stop being smart, Cal, it gets on my nerves. We shouldn't be together, stupid, I love you so much to let you go. Did I just say it? Yes. Do I regret? Fucking no.
"Cal, don't," I beg. "Please. We both know this is going to be a disaster."
"We can never know without trying, Jack."
"I want to stay as friends," I repeat firmly.
"You do?" He arches an eyebrow. Then, he cups my cheeks and yanks me closer to him – in seconds, his lips cover mine. An instant of hesitation, then everything goes blurry when he deepens the kiss. All I remember is grabbing him from his neck and kissing back. It's even better than I've imagined it – Calvin Gilmore is a good kisser. Probably the best I've ever kissed.
I come back to life when he withdraws, his frequent breaths brush my face and his forehead against mine. He loosens the grip on my neck to look at my face. I wonder how I'm looking at him because I'm not even sure – lustful or dazed? But it hits me like a wall when he asks the next question:
"If you want to stay as friends, how do you explain what's just happened, Jack?"
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