Sweet Rush

Eighteen

Never would I have ever thought that I would be out at night in my hometown with the most beautiful boy to exist. The chill of the night breeze tickles my face as I walk beside Jane, trying to keep up with his long strides. I had to beg Jane to get out of the house with me if he wanted to hear my side of today. He reluctantly agreed but is currently rebelling by walking as if the floor is lava. My efforts to keep up with his pace is failing horrendously, yet still I push through.

Because Jane wanted to so badly get an answer regarding the events at dinner, I told my parents that I'd step out for a walk with Jane after finishing up the dishes. Of course my mother graciously obliged because she is very much in support of Jane being her future son-in-law. She probably thinks that we're having a cute moment but it's literally the opposite. I wouldn't be out here if it wasn't for Jane and I fail to understand why he actually cares about my behaviour, however to say I'm not flattered would be a lie.

"I didn't know that you were going to show up at my house today. How on earth did you end up in South Carolina spending Thanksgiving with your employee? It's cynical really." I chuckle softly at the coincidence when Jane is within earshot. Believe me, it takes a lot to be within Jane's hearing range, paired with his walking speed and height. Jane isn't amused at my attempt to strike up a conversation and keeps his focus forward. I guess he just wants me to cut to the chase.

"It's even more cynical that you wanted to play it off like you didn't know me." His tone is clipped, and I recognize that he's evidently upset. I wonder if his feelings would subside if I let him know the reason. I decide to walk in my shame just a little before I confess. I look up at him, admiring the man in front of me, his warmness hugs me like a hostage in an inferno. The street lamps light up his brown orbs showing me the unchartered waters within his own world. Something tells me that he's not just bothered about what I did, he would never care this much about an insignificant lie. I stretch out my arm to touch his, slowing us down as he stops and turns to face me. I take this time to search his hurtful eyes, hurt that has never been there while he looks for my truth. His palm rubs against my bent elbow, pushing my hand further up to his bicep. I inhale sharply, unsure of what this is. His touch does not fail to turn my arm into a thorny stalk. I have a million questions for him but I choose to explain myself first.

"I went to New York for school. Seven months ago I was in NYU as a journalism major and dropped out to work at your bar. My parents have no idea, they think that I'm still in school. I can't imagine what it would be like if they found out but I'm sure they'll be knowing everything by tonight or tomorrow. So I'm screwed." I laugh softly not because I find it funny but stupid. I seriously don't understand why fate was not on my side. Why did Jane have to come to my hometown to force the truth out of me?

Here I was thinking that I'd have an opportunity to come clean to my parents on my own time. I guess the Universe has a funny way of putting things. I knew my actions had consequences anyways. Jane's thumb moves back and forth on my elbow almost like a non-verbal way of saying that I'll be fine but I don't feel fine, not with his hand making direct contact with my skin.

"Why not just tell them?" He asks like it's just so easy. He can't relate to anything I'm doing and shouldn't have any recommendations as far as I can see.

"I planned to, just not so soon." I admit with a dejected smile. "I didn't know your dad was White." I say, changing the topic and unsure of whether I sound unlettered. I was surprised when I found out that Jane didn't resemble his dad one bit. I often assumed that he took his good looks from his male counterpart. He steps back after the words left my lips. I didn't mean to offend him and never thought that he would take incursion to it. His palm slips away from my elbows inevitably causing my arm to leave his. He continues walking down the semi-dark street, leaving me behind.

Wow what a gentleman.

I'm left in a state of confusion with him running away like Cinderella. He can't just be upset over my statement and it justifies that he wasn't in a mood because of what happened at dinner. I crave to understand him. I want to know what made those once impassive eyes show a glint of melancholy. I manage to catch up to Jane unable to stabilize my breathing when I do. His eyes are straight ahead and I'm under the impression that he's been here before, but he could just be aimlessly walking.

"He's not my dad. He's my mom's husband, we are not related and we do not get along." Jane opens up reluctantly when he realizes that I'm in hearing proximity. His monotonous words put a lot into perspective. That explains the lack of resemblance and disconnect between him and Rich that was peaking through earlier.

"Oh I didn't know." The evening wind starts getting aggressive and I hug my knitted cardigan to block out the cold air. "What about your biological dad?" I pray that I'm not overstepping but he if he denies answering it's none of my business anyway.

"Too busy with his wife and kids in California. I used to live there before moving to New York when Pops called. He's the only one who gets me. I can't stand being around my mom or that sketchy white dude or my dad for that matter." I cringe at the way he referred to Rich because he actually seems so sweet and genuine. At the same time my heart breaks at the mention of him having no tolerance for the people who most likely love and care deeply for him. He's much more broken than I thought. Here I believed that Jane was this perfect man with good looks, money and an established family. I don't know a thing about Jane.

"I'm sor-"

"Don't even say that Malia. I don't want your pity." he snaps at me before I can finish my sentence. His fiery words catches me off guard, annoying me in seconds. I was just trying to make him feel better but soon my empathy is churned into slight anger.

"I would never pity you, Jane. You're my boss, why would I?" I retort out of spite, rolling my eyes at the Jane that I'm used to. He kisses his teeth, clearly obstructed by what I said.

"What if I wasn't your boss? Would you pity me then?" he gets in front of me, towering over my petite stature. For some reason his question lets on much more than the surface. The way his eyes pierce into mine anticipating my answer, it's as if he is asking me another question. I shrug my shoulders in response as he stares down at me. He seems frazzled and unsure of what to do with himself or me for that matter. He glides his hand from my arm to my neck, pressing his thumb into the delicate spot right beneath my ear. He carefully examines my reaction to his touch, searching my eyes. They flutter shut as I tilt my head to the side he's placed his palm. This is what I've been waiting for. I want him but not just his touch, I want to know his thoughts, his favourite colour, his weaknesses, I want him entirely. I've fallen so much for a guy who probably doesn't think twice about me. I couldn't care less because I was done rejecting what I feel for him. If there's something there, I owe it to myself to explore it.

Jane has me sounding like every Love Islander.

With the pressure rising, I fold and let the words slip past my lips "If you want to kiss me as much as I want you to, just do it and put me out of my misery." It comes out like a desperate whisper and absolutely nothing could've prepared me for what comes next.