QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:
"A lot of people get so hung up on what they can't have that they don't think for a second about whether they really want it."
― Lionel Shriver, Checker and the Derailleurs
Dedication: @goodbyez (She's an amazing reader. Go check her works!)
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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
My grandfather's death led me to fix my relationship with the other members of family. That is how a person he was.
The rebonding moment with my father lasts until the door is knocked; I stand up and he flashes me a smile - and it just feels so warming. Heading to the door, I leave them two to speak and open the door to find Calvin with a box of chocolate in hand.
"Chocolate," I breathe in awe, my eyes shamelessly fixated on them instead of him. It is true that I find chocolate the most attractive thing ever. Then, I take them from his hands and he chuckles.
"I guess you don't need me now."
I throw a serious glance at him. "Are you kidding me? I can't eat these all alone." With a sideway smile, I take his hand and lead him to the living room. "And I need you to meet my grandma."
"Jack - I don't know if it's the right time. Isn't she-"
Ignoring his nonsense mumbles, I go back to living room. My grandma and father are still sitting there talking and when they see me, their eyes light up - probably because of Calvin - and they turn their full attention to us.
"Welcome Calvin!" Grandma greets him with a warm smile. "Jacqueline told me a lot about you."
Arching his eyebrow at me before turning at my grandma, Calvin replies, "Likewise, ma'am." He looks at my father. "Oh, and nice to meet you,"-he extends his hand out-"Mr Pierce."
Dad shakes his hand. "Is Calvin your friend from school?"
"Yep." I catch my grandma looking at Calvin and I don't know why but her looks scare me a lot. "Oh, we - we have homework to do, don't we?" Remembering the 'is-he-serious' talk, I try my best to drag him out of here. At least, for now.
They all look at me in disbelief. Frankly, grandma and father in disappointment and Calvin puzzled. Because I'm the last person who would remember the homework Calvin doesn't, right?
"But we've just met darling and-"
"I know but this is urgent." I shoot an angry glance at Calvin who looks keen to stay. "We're running late - when was the deadline? Tomorrow."
"Yeah, uh, tomorrow," Calvin repeats, still puzzled and he doesn't even seem convincing! Oh, this boy. He clears his throat. "I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am. From what Jack has told me, your husband was a remarkable man."
My grandma shakes her head. "He certainly was." I can read the sorrow through her face.
"So hope to see you later," Calvin says. "Good evening."
Minutes later, we are on my bed, he makes sure that he sits almost at the edge of it (ready to walk away whenever) and he rants about how we should've stayed downstairs. "It was totally disrespectful - why did you bring a nonexistent homework up?"
"Because..." I think of a reason that isn't about 'is-he-serious' conversation. "Because I don't like that talk - it makes me so emotional."
He rolls his eyes. "You are unbelievable."
"Please," I scoff. "Don't tell me you don't like staying alone with me."
"You are the one who's fallen in love, darling, you tell me." He winks at me.
"Fuck you." I throw the nearest pillow I find at him. It only makes him chuckle. Prick.
He moves closer to me till we are face to face. I look at him intently, standing still and watching his every move. First, he lifts his hand and pushes my hair behind. I'm sitting cross-legged so it prevents him from being even closer. If he heard my heartbeat right now, he'd understand I can't handle the closeness. His eyes shift between my eyes and my lips; and as he draws even closer, I can feel his breath on me - and I simultaneously close my eyes. After a while, he stops.
I slowly open one of my eyes and find him watching me a few inches away. "What are you waiting for?" I ask warily. I can spot the thin blue lines among the green shade of his eyes - it feels like thin water tunnels passing in a meadow - and it feels so peaceful. Right now, all I can focus on is him.
"What do you mean?"
I let out a brief sigh before I yank him closer to myself by his collar and press our foreheads together in a way that our noses are almost touching. "You think you're evil," I whisper against his lips, "but I'm worse." Crashing our lips together, I live in the moment. Simultaneously he deepens the kiss, his hands on my back. I throw my hands around his neck and pull him even closer to me.
I kiss him as if it's the first time: slowly and exploring; yet he kisses me as if the last time: passionate and hurried.
He's the only thing that's on my mind at that moment. He makes me happy, and more importantly, he makes me feel. Anything and everything. Happy because with him, everything seems manageable. Excited because I am looking forward to our tomorrows. Scared because he can change everything I am with a single look - because of the effect he has on me.
Between soft moans, I taste the mint in his breath - and it feels so homey with the mixture of his familiar scent. Little do I know, we are lying - his upper body is on the top of mine. When he breaks the kiss for a fleeting moment, we are both breathless. He is only a murmur away from me; so when he whispers the following words, your well-known eight letters, I can't be sure whether I've really heard it or felt it against my skin: "I love you."
I tilt my head to see him. Although people say 'I love you' is a wasted word, I beg to differ. It's so rare that I've ever heard someone saying to me and meaning it. Perhaps that's why I believe so easily - or he really means it. When our eyes meet, I let him see a part of me that nobody's ever met. A girl in love.
He flashes a smile before leaning to kiss me again.
This time, his fingers are knitted in the blocks of my hair. With the effect of the confession, the kiss is also harder and more passionate than before. His lips slide against my skin through my neck with a peck at each inch. His lips are so soft and it sends me chill through my spine wherever it touches. His nose tickles my skin.
I want this to never end. But eventually, everything has an end. Or I guess so when my dad yells from downstairs. "Jacqueline!"
I let out a whisper. "Fuck."
Calvin suddenly stops, lifting his body and we immediately stand up. "Do I look...not messy?" I ask in hurry and he chuckles.
"Your lips give you away."
I shoot him a glance. "Uh-oh." Then, I open the door and yell back after clearing my throat. "Yeah?"
"There is someone at door...he said he's your friend." I look at Calvin and he shrugs.
"Okay, coming." I turn and fold Calvin's collar. "Are you coming?"
"I need to go anyway. I promised to help Sue with her Maths homework."
I nod knowingly. I'm actually stuck in the previous moment and mentally curse my dad for interrupting the best makeout ever. We together descend the stairs and I walk up to the door to see Richard standing at door uncomfortably gazing around, his hands in his pockets. "Hey," I greet him awkwardly, leaning against the door.
"Hi - uh, I wondered when you didn't turn up at school and I learnt your grandpa died so..." He pauses when he spots Calvin behind me. "I guess you were busy."
Wearing his coat, Calvin glances at him. Next moment, he kisses me firmly on the lips and shoots another glance at Richard - it feels so awkward while Richard is staring at us but I love the way he kisses me so much to give a fuck about it. "See you." He smirks at me and he mutters a goodbye to Richard while passing by. This boy never fails to surprise me.
Still amazed by Calvin, I come back to life when Richard speaks again. "So, uh, sorry for your grandpa."
I nod. "Thanks."
"So you and Calvin?"
I glance back to see my dad isn't around but still, I grab his arm and shove him to the porch, closing the door behind me. I notice it's cold outside so I wrap my arms around my torso. Turning at Richard, I sigh and say, "I've done what you told me." He frowns. "I confessed him that I love him."
"When did this happen?" He snaps.
"Last night or this morning - or something like that. At 5 AM."
"Shouldn't you be mourning over your grandpa or something?" He asks with a venomous tone.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snap angrily. "You encouraged me to go tell him. And after my grandpa's death, I realised I should act faster before everything is too late." I keep on; ignoring that he opens his mouth. "And I did the right thing because now we are almost there."
"Yeah, I noticed," he huffs, "he marks his kisses on you to claim that you're his. I thought you're better than that."
I laugh in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"He was with Stella for days, but I'm the one who is kidding."
"I - I pushed him away. And he wasn't with Stella that way, you dickhead, you know it too."
"No, I don't."
"Ric, you're totally being a dumbass right now - what, Butler, are you jealous?"
It's his turn to laugh. Yet his expression freezes when he looks back at me. "No." So why does he look at me like saying 'Challenge accepted'?
"Good," I reply firmly. Being around him suddenly feels weirdly uncomfortable. "So it's cold and I'd better go back."
He nods and I turn back to open the door. I shiver with his sudden touch on my arm. "Jack." I spin my head around and he's suddenly so close.
"Yeah?" I say warily.
"Will you come to the final game?"
"Oh - when is it?"
"On Friday." Then, he adds, "Of course if Calvin almighty lets you."
Rolling my eyes, I reply, "I'll be there."
There he lets go of my arm. "Good." Lastly gazing me out, he walks down the porch. "Good night Pierce."
"Right back at ya."
A thought crosses my mind but I push it away. It's nonsense. Richard Butler can't have the hots for me.
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