𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒂
"Why do they have to come back today," I groan with my face shoved into Riley's shoulder.
"Don't you miss them?"
"Yeah, but still," I sigh. "I want it to be just us two."
She kisses my cheek and smiles. "It's not like we can't see each other."
"I think they'll notice that you're practically living here, and you're parents are gonna wonder why you're always at my house even when they're back."
"Well, if you wanna sleepover or something, just sneak into my window at night," she shrugs.
"I guess that could work. . ." I hesitantly agree.
"See? Perfect."
"Okay, well they'll be back around dinner, so we got a whole day to do whatever you want," I tell her.
"I think I'm just gonna go home, ya know?"
"Okay, have fun," I say with a frown.
"Yeah, see ya."
"Wait are you serious?"
"No," she laughs. "Of course not. I wanna spend as much time as I can with you. Even though we spent the whole week together, it's not enough."
"Let's go to the cliff."
We've been going there almost everyday this week. It calmed me down when it was just the two of us staring at the city packed with all these different people. The only downside is the fact that it's on a cliff, which makes me tense up whenever we get close. Eventually, that feeling subsides and the only thing I'm focused on is Riley. Even though it freaks me out, I still feel a sense of serenity in that place all because of Riley.
She smiles and gets up. "Okay."
We walk to the front door and slip on our shoes before heading out.
"Why do we always go there?" she asks as we get into the car.
"I don't know, it's special. I like it," I shrug. "And I like you."
Actually, I'm 99.9% sure I'm totally in love with you.
"Oh my god, you like me?" she pretends to be shocked, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Maybe a little," I reply with a smirk.
We arrive at the same cliff and I instantly feel happiness coursing through my veins. She pops open the trunk and we sit there, legs hanging off the edge.
I lean back against the pillows that she'd left in the trunk. "Hey, Riles, teach me the baguette language now."
She laughs and starts telling me some basic French words and phrases. "Are you gonna remember any of this?"
"Nope, but I like your voice, so continue."
She rolls her eyes and rambles on about her French teacher. I sit up and furrow my brows, contemplating whether or not I should ask what I want to ask.
"How do you say 'I love you' in French?"
She stops in the middle of her sentence and her eyes widen. "Um. . .je t'aime."
"Cool," I say with a little smile. "Continue."
"Um, okay," she stammers and picks up where she left off. Once she finishes bashing on her French teacher, we try to have a conversation in French.
