Lacuna (my missing part) in Latin
Esme Davis's fast life has become stagnant, or so she thinks. Until one fateful night she bumps into him. During the day she is a science major at UCLA, but at night, she is an underground street racer with an unbe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Silas
I can't shake the feeling that Esme is here, so I take my phone out of my pocket and check her location. My blood pressure rises when I read, "May stop sharing location." at the bottom of our messages.
Reading the timestamp beside the message, it reads 9:17. Looking at the watch on my left wrist reads 9:43.
She is here.
May
Me: Tell me where you are right now
Three seconds later the message is delivered, and while waiting for her response I continue looking around.
Countless minutes have gone by, and I come to the conclusion, Esme is ignoring me. The two times I have seen the woman sans her phone, is when she is in the shower or sleeping. At one point I was considering it being glued to her hand. So, the fact that she hasn't responded only means one thing.
Someone bumps into me from behind, and I instantly know who it is by the perfume that envelops me. Turning around slowly, I raise an eyebrow when Esme rubs her forehead and winces. Her right hand rubs her forehead while her other hand holds her phone.
"You were supposed to be studying at home." I say, and somehow over the loud crowd, I hear her suck in a sharp breath. Esme looks up at me with wide, panic stricken eyes, and my lips pull into a small smile.
As hard as I tried not to, my eyes betray me, and travel over her body. My eyebrows raise a smidge at her choice of apparel. An oversized black and green flannel with light washed denim jeans dons her body, and if they were on anyone else it wouldn't look anywhere near this good. The front of her hair is styled in a way you can't see her scar, and the back is up in two buns.
Her face is clear of any makeup, aside from the stuff that makes her lips shiny, but it's not as if she needs it. She uses makeup to enhance her beauty, unlike most women who think it's their source of beauty. It's high up on the list of things I appreciate about her.
Opening my mouth to speak again, her eyes follow the action, and my heart rate picks up, resulting in the words getting caught in my throat.
There's no way this is normal.
"Yo, Mae, five minutes." Jerome calls out, and Esme turns her attention from me to him, and nods her head.
She starts to walk away, but I catch her hand with my own, and she huffs out an annoyed sigh.
"Don't lie to me again." Keeping my tone unwavering with her was tough, but I wasn't stern enough earlier, and well here she is. At the exact place I told her not to come to.
Looking over her shoulder at me, Esme looks up at me with her mahogany irises encased in almond shaped eyes that scream 'trouble', but I adore her too much to care.
"Ditto." She replies, and I shake my head at her stubbornness.
Despite us being surrounded by two hundred plus people, at this moment it feels as though it is just the two of us standing here. I'm not stupid, dumb, or slow. I know what this is turning into, and to my surprise, I'm not afraid of it. I have tried to keep my distance from her, but need for her like a drug overpowers everything.
