Chapter 89 - WILLOW

''I kissed him,'' I admit to Paris as we make our way to her car, headed for the closest Starbucks which is a ten minute drive from Adelaide. We're on our afternoon break and are scheduled to be back on school grounds by 2:00pm. After Mr Finkle's Economics class. I could do with a little caffeine in my system. Who would have thought that discussing about inflation and deflation rates of states in the US could turn out to be such a headache?

The only thing I want inflated is my bank account.

Theo isn't in school today. He sent me a text this morning saying he had errands to run but instructed me to call if anything happens. He also stated that an officer would take his place, following closely from behind when I drop Sophie at Linkdale and then head to school.

Like last time, he didn't tell me exactly where he was going but I have a feeling it has something to do with my case.

''You have to be more specific here,'' she says as the car beeps open and we get in. Paris drives a black convertible, the Fiat 124 Spider to be more precise. It was gifted to her by her Aunt Rinata on her sixteenth birthday and she's been riding it ever since. She absolutely adores this car, in fact, I think she loves it more than she loves me. ''Who exactly did you kiss?''

Buckling our seat belts, she starts the car and we're off into the busy streets. ''I kissed Jason, who else?''

''WHAT!'' she yells and almost slams the breaks, sending us flying backwards. ''Are you crazy? Don't slam the breaks like that, we could have had an accident!''

''Girl, forget that,'' she dismisses. Putting her hand out she waves to the other drivers she inconvenienced and continues. ''When did this happen?''

''Midnight.''

''Midnight?'' She makes a turn towards Grandale Avenue. ''How did ya'll meet at midnight?''

''He came to the apartment,'' I simply say. 

''Really?'' she asks in disbelief. 

I nod and explain to her what transpired, from how he climbed the Bur Oak to how he ended up in my room. It still baffles me how we were able to pull off that 'stunt' successfully. Not to mention, Sophie didn't wake up at all which means she didn't notice when he came in and didn't notice when he left by 4:00am. I asked her about it on our way to Linkdale and she said she didn't hear a peep.

''That is so fucking cute,'' she gushes. ''So he like fell on you and you both kissed like in the movies! How romantic.''

It was.

''How did you feel, though?'' her eyes glaze over at me. ''Did you like it?''

I did. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. After he left, I could still feel the tingling of my swollen lips, hell, I can still feel it now. My right hand instinctively moves to touch my bottom lip, almost like if I close my eyes and dream, he'd be here, in this vehicle, claiming my lips again.

''I loved it,'' I admit with stars in my eyes. ''I loved it to the point that it made me feel a tad bit guilty.''

Paris gives me a questioning glance. ''Why do you feel guilty?''

''I don't know. I feel like I'm cheating on Bob, you know? I'm kind of torn here.'' I really like Jason and I loved Bob also. Bob is missing and I'm kissing another guy and acting like he never existed. ''I don't know how to feel.''

We pull up into the parking lot of Starbucks and she turns off the ignition. Before we get out, she asks. ''Did you really love Bob or you think you loved him? Because those two things are very distinct concepts.''

................

Paris' words keep circling in my head for the rest of the school day to the point that I barely pay attention in the last leg of my classes, another bad move on my part considering the SAT's are in three months.

''Did you really love Bob or you think you loved him? Because those two things are very distinct concepts.''

We were together for over five months and I was happy. Sure, the relationship was surreptitious, but it was ours and it was convenient. Bob was the perfect gentleman and he was everything to me. Even though I swore I wouldn't take him back if and when he decides to come out of hiding, I can't just cancel out the good times because they were good.

People say ignorance is bliss and I've always disputed that saying because it's very contradictory. How can you be comfortably basking in the bliss of not knowing something, especially when that something has the power to affect you personally?

In my case, regrettably might I add, ignorance was bliss because in the months we were together, I had no idea who he really was. If it wasn't for the fact that evidence was slapped in my face, I wouldn't have believed he was involved in the mafia. He didn't look like the type. I don't even know what the type is, but when I imagine mafia men and mobsters, big, burly Italian men with muscles and a goatee comes to mind.

Never Bob.

I sound like the girl who is still hung up on her ex but I can't help it. After what happened on September 7 and having a glimmer hope through that letter that Bob is okay somewhere only to have that hope shattered by forensics and handwriting experts has left me feeling dissatisfied and in need of closure.

Anywho, I guess it's true what they say though, looks really can be deceiving because I never would have pegged Jason as a gangleader but alas, he is.

Then there's the issue of Jason being a gangleader.

After he left this morning, using the front door this time, I got no sleep and my mind started to wander. My mind wanders a lot but this time, the wandering is actually warranted.

Jason is a living and breathing keg of gunpowder, a very vivid description but that's the one way I know how to describe him. 

He lives for danger. He's running a gang, he's into street racing, he knows how to use guns and he's probably a weapons specialist. Everything around him is everything I'm not. 

The whole gang thing still lives an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I got involved with one guy who was into illegal activity and look at the mess it created. Now, I'm about to dive head first into another mess. The most unsettling thing of it all is that of the two messes, the one I don't mind falling into hook, line and sinker is Jason's mess. It bothers me that he's a gangleader but at the same time it doesn't.

I've liked him for a while now. I don't know in what grade I started falling for him, but I did and I couldn't bring myself to admit it because it didn't make any sense to me. We are polar opposites in every sense of the word, that's why we clashed initially: our races are different, our background and upbringing don't coincide, we live two very separate lives and we are not in the same social circles.

Despite everything, I still like him and he likes me too. 

He wouldn't have kissed me twice, or was it four times yesterday (I lost count after the second kiss because my head was spinning) if he didn't like me.

Then why did I tell him, ''I don't know''?

I bump into someone in the crowded hallway and that pulls me out of my thoughts, sending my books and that of the person I bumped into falling to the ground. I bend down immediately to pick up the materials. ''I am so sorry. It's my fault. I didn't look at where I was going and-'' I feel a familiar pair of hands clamp on top of mine as we reach out for the blue coloured English textbook at the same time.

My breath catches in my throat when he bends fully to my position and we meet with our eyes. Shit, this is not how I imagined our encounter after all that went down this morning. I blush involuntarily, remembering our 'trysts', and he gives me a knowing smirk, the one that tells me that he has a pretty clear understanding of why my face is beet red.

No one seems to be paying us any attention so I clear my throat. He unclasps his hands from mine and hands me my textbook. ''Here you go.''

I take it from him with a grateful smile. ''Thank you. Again, I'm sorry for bumping into you, Jason.''

I expect him to be mad at me not smile like the way he's doing now. We were all over each other and I told him I don't know when he asked me out on a date.

His pearly whites become prominent, almost like a light from the heavens is shining down on them and they compliment his fresh Caucasian skin well. He's looking at me like I'm transparent glass and he can see right through my every thought and emotions. Maybe he can see why my mind is unsettled, maybe he can see that he is the reason why I'm unfocused and uncoordinated.

Thoughts of him consume me as much as I do him.

''Penny for your thoughts?''

Trust me I need more than just a penny.

Why? Because I'm an idiot.