Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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Once outside, the hot air hit them like a shock to the system. But it also felt comforting, like it would somehow relax all their muscles.
"What is it?" She asked him, as they hit the pavement walking somewhere only he knew.
Beside him, it was a whole different story. Nobody would try to rob her now.
"What do you mean?" He asked her, their hand brushing as they walked.
"Why did we have to leave so suddenly?" Clementine asked, brushing the hair out of her face and putting it up in a bun to protect herself from the heat.
As they turned a corner, Zico stopped her and looked her in the eyes.
"There's something I don't understand about you, Clementine," he said her name in a whole new way. She never heard someone say it that way, so differently. It was the Portuguese pronunciation, but in his mouth it felt foreign all over again and it touched some deeper part inside her. Like a shot of realization, making her jump, realizing this was all real. That he was real, that she was real to him.
"You are somehow both so unguarded and guarded. Your bravery is to the point of foolishness. I can't tell if you are more reckless than me, or.." he drifted off.
"Or what?" Clementine was taken aback.
"Or dumber." He let go of her hand, stepping closer to her, pushing her closer to the wall.
"What do you mean, Zico?" Clementine couldn't understand him.
"What are you doing with a guy like me?" He sighed, finally asking, running a hand through his hair.
He put a cigarette in his mouth, but couldn't find a lighter. Clementine could feel his disappointment.
Clementine didn't know what to say. Would it be so preposterous to say that she liked him? That she was somehow attracted to him, in a way she couldn't explain.
It hit her then that she wasn't the only one with internal conflicts about this.
Clementine just looked at him, mouth agape in shock.
"Thiago - my roommate - says he saw you on the street the other day. They say they dropped you off at the beach club. I know who goes to the beach club, Clementine, and it ain't guys like us," Zico looked her deeper in the eye.
"Zico, I'm not trying to con you," Clementine was looking for the words to say what she needed to. "If anything, it is me who was taught to be afraid that someone like you is going to con me. So what? None of that means anything!"
Zico, feeling the shift of energy, realized he should take it back a notch.
"I'm just a guy. I don't know what you're looking for, but I'm just a guy," he said looking down. "My English, it's not very good." He finally said, and Clementine sensed he was trying to say something more.
She didn't think it was the English. Then she decided to say everything that needs to be said in kisses instead. So she leaned in to him, grabbing his shirt, and kissed him hard.
When she pulled back, Zico looked at her again and nodded, saying simply: "Let's go eat. you must be hungry."
