SEVENTEEN years to Live

26 ●○► DROPS OF WATER

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

●○► DROPS OF WATER

After the game, Bryan and I decide to go back home. Before we take the road, I hug my girlfriends and bid the others goodbye. I make high-five with Sephred when I go to him. I congratulate him for doing so well in the game and then hug him, even though the shirt he’s wearing is soaked with sweat. I never thought he would play like he already had some experience. He had contributed a lot in the Blue Team. In protecting the ball, passing it, scoring, etc. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the last time I will see him play. I know he wants to play again next time.

As we make our way back to the mansion, Bryan places his arm across the back my shoulder. It’s not that heavy, but I can carry it until we get there. Then I lift my right hand up across my chest to hold his hand, which is hanging loosely over my armpit. His fingers interlace with mine and I look at him as he looks at me. He smiles a little, and I have to return it.

“How do you like my smell?” he asks a few seconds later, his smile turning into a low chuckle.

I laugh. “You smell bad,” I say. “You smell like you’ve never taken a shower in three days.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” I nod my head.

“Seriously?” He seems to not believe it.

I nod my head again.

“Oh.” He pauses. “But you know what,” he says after a few moments, “you have to admit that even though I smell like I haven’t had a shower in three days, I still look sexy.”

I sigh at what he said. “Well, you look sexy,” I tell him. “And I admit it that even though you haven’t had a shower in three days, you still look sexy.”

He messes my hair with his other hand. And I fight him with my other hand before my hair gets even messier.

“Bryan, no,” I urge, getting his hand away from my hair. “Stop.”

When I say the word “stop”, he obeys quickly. “Alright,” he says, nodding. “I’ll stop.”

Then I finger-comb my hair to fix it. When I am done, I feel the sleeve of my shirt getting wet with Bryan’s sweat. I ignore it. I want to be close up to him like this; his arm around my shoulder, our skin brushing against each other. I try to remember what happened last night, when we’re huddled together, when his skin is touching my skin, when I am closer than this to his body. Why can’t I remember that? What did I do that make me forget that? I want to find out. Someday, I will find out.

When we arrive at the mansion, the sun has already set and the sky has become orange-red to dark-blue. As we enter the living room, the first person I see there is Jamela. She is seated on the couch, watching the television while holding a bowl of vegetable salad in her hand. She turns to look at us when one of the guards closes the door behind us.

“Hey!” she greets, beaming at us.

I smile at her.

“Hey, sis,” says Bryan automatically.

“Your shirt’s wet,” says Jamela, noticing the wet marks in his shirt. “Did you borrow KirVy’s water guns and play?” She chuckles under her breath.

He looks down at his shirt and then returns his glance to his sister while shaking his head. “Soccer,” he tells her. “It’s sweat.”

“Oh.” She nods her head rapidly. “That’s disgusting, Bryan. You better take a shower before dinner.” After a moment, she pauses. Her eyes turn to me and a smile suddenly creeps across her face. “How does he smell?” she asks quickly.