The Girl With the Cross

Chapter 5: Tyler

    As her lips press hard against mine, I can't help but feel a pang in my chest: this is wrong. I don't know why I feel this way all of the sudden seeming as how we've been making out for almost an hour now, but I stop engaging.
    She pulls into me for another, but I pull off, lightly pushing her away from me.
    "I'm sorry babe but I think you should leave." I say, head down, avoiding her eyes. I can't even remember her name. She playfully pushes at my chest.
  "Why? I'm having such a good time. One more kiss? One last drink?" She begs; I lift my head, her eyes beaming. She reeks of alcohol and she sloppily plays with the collar of my shirt. She draws light figure eights on my heart with her fingertips that give me chills.
  "I'm sorry my love but you might have misheard me. I think I'll leave instead -- have a nice night." I say. I peck her on the cheek and start walking away from her, hands in my pockets.
  "Why?" She asks, desperation beginning in her voice as she follows me.
  "Because it's cold, it's dark, and I'm tired. Bye." I say, pushing her away from me again and taking rapid steps to my car. I need safety.
  I enter my vehicle and hear the rumble of my dad's car engine. But before I leave, I decide to end it like I always do.
  I roll down the window, "Oh, and by the way, I'm done with you." I give her my signature wink, roll up my window, and drive away. On Monday, it will be like World War III, but it was totally worth it for the time being. I laugh as I hear her shouting in drunk frustration when I start to drive away; and almost immediately, I think about our contact. It all just felt so . . . wrong. I can't love other girls with this overwhelming burn in my chest for Sarah. I only want her, and she doesn't seem interested. Usually, I ask a girl for something and they do it without hesitation or second thought just because I'm Tyler James and that's how it works. But this one, I ask her to hang out with me from across the street and she says no; a very unfamiliar word. It's like she knows I love her, and she's trying to make it last, to see how far I'll go. I just have to be patient: another unfamiliar word. I get home and come silently through the door. I used to have to be asleep by no later than 10:00 pm, but Dad is always knocked out in his room so anything I do no longer matters to him.
   The way her face looks all the time, man she's stunning. She can bring so much joy to me without even knowing it or being here. I feel like just witnessing her light from across the street is mending something in me that I never knew was torn. She's like no other girl before.
   I walk quietly up the stairs and jump into bed. I have yet another dream about her.
   I wonder if she thinks about me, too.