Zach is a nutrient I had been craving for so long that I had forgotten I was craving him. The pressure of his lips against mine build until suddenly we're both moving fast. His hands are digging into my waist and my hands find themselves sliding up his shoulders towards his hair. He's about to open his mouth, I know he is because I know he wants more. I know I want more. And just before we can get more the loud clearing of a throat pierces our foggy, lust-induced haze.
Just like that, gravity snaps back to earth and I'm reeling from him faster than my cheeks are morphing into blazing red. Only metres away stands an amused look from Roberto, the confusion written across Lucy's face and the disapproving stare from Zoe. This is embarrassing. I look at Zach and the same red has tinted his own cheeks. Our kiss was heated but it wasn't that steamy. Maybe it's because we're both wondering how much further it would have gone if we hadn't been interrupted.
"No, please, carry on. Don't let us stop you," Roberto hoots, his large grin only widening at our obvious discomfort. I don't miss the sharp look Zoe throws in his direction which I'm grateful for.
Beneath my body, my legs return to a solid state from the jelly they had become and I manage to pick myself up and hobble over to my best friends, both embarrassed and confused over what had just transpired between us. Are we heading back into dating territory now? Or was that something else? Do I even want to date Zachary Evans again? All are questions I will no doubt pour over later but for now my heart is beating too fast and my skin in tingling too much to concentrate on anything besides the present.
I hear Zach get up from the sand also. I'm not sure if he's following me or just going to Roberto but it takes a lot of will power not to turn and look. I hate the way Zoe and Lucy look at me when I'm close enough. They'e both giving me small smiles but there's something close to pity that's been interlaced through it. They feel sorry for me. Why? I haven't done anything wrong. I know why they're disapproving though, Zach was the first boy to break my heart and he broke it big time. They saw the pain he put me through and now I'm just the girl who isn't strong enough to say "no" to her ex-boyfriend when he comes crawling back for another chance.
Sighing a little, I simply shrug my shoulders a little at my friends in the sort of way that communicates: 'I'll explain it later'. They give me the slightest of nods back and instantly I feel better. For all the domestic issues we have with each other, I know that at the end of the day they'll support me no matter what and that's all I can really ask for from a friend. All I'd want to ever ask for.
"So what did you think of the body?" Roberto is the one to break the ice. He breaks it in the sort of way that sounds like there was never any ice to begin with and immediately I like him a little better.
We look to the two boys that have fallen in formation around us until we're all standing in a rough circle. I've managed to end up opposite to Zach. I avoid his burning eyes when I feel the heat of the tension burning my face.
"It's a real body," Lucy states.
"Wow, thanks Sherlock," Roberto retorts. "So glad for your professional opinion. We were just leaving for town if Her Smartness concurs?"
"Her Smartness concurs and yet is confused why you're heading the opposite direction to town?" Lucy's smirk only widens as Roberto's face drops. "We're almost at Blu Plateau now. It would be quicker to get the cops from there. Come on, I'll show you the way."
With no further words, Lucy turns and slinks into the darkness. Zoe and I don't waste anytime following her. The sooner we get out of this hell - as Roberto had so accurately described it - the better. A few seconds later and the soft crunching of sand in duplicated in the form of Zach and Roberto following behind us.
A part of me waits to feel his hand on my shoulder. His voice in my ear telling me we should talk. His hand slipping onto my waste to aid my footsteps when in reality it's just a poorly disguised excuse to touch me. A part of me wishes that were true but then that part of my mind sounds very similar to the Kaylee from a year ago. The Kaylee that had a loyal boyfriend by her side. It's strange how quickly my defensive walls have come crumbling down from one kiss that may not have meant as much to him as it has to my racing heart. I tense for the moment of contact but in the end I shouldn't have worried - I never felt his touch.
"What's up with that party, anyway?" Lucy asks after a prolonged moment of silence apart from the crunching of leaves underfoot. In comparison to our party clothes and the post-party-odour that's no doubt clinging to our bodies, Lucy's black leggings and baggie hoodie make her stand out like a sore thumb amongst our small pack.
"The Vocatio? It's tradition!" Roberto is quick to defend the bonfire. Out of the five of us, he is the only one who is local, born and bred in this town. No doubt, the annual party has been part of his family stories for decades if it is truly a long upheld tradition. "Biggest celebration of the year after Christmas and Uncle Jerry's birthday!"
"The Vocatio? Isn't that Latin? 'The calling', or something?"
"I don't know. Who speaks Latin anymore?"
Lucy whips her head back to make another snarky response, but stops when something catches her eye through the thick mangroves. The first signs of civilisation come in flashes through the trees and distant hums of mechanical engines. If I were a little kid, I would think these first glimmers of white weren't from humans but from aliens. For a second I allow myself to believe this. I believe Lexi's tragic death wasn't caused by the callous hand of a human but by the sticky tentacle from an abominable alien race. It scares me how much I wish this were true.
A few more steps and I find myself scrambling out from the last spindly limbs of an overgrown mangrove to reveal the brilliant red and blue glow of a twenty-four seven petrol station. The paint's pealing on it's walls and the gutter pipes teeter between clumps of black gunk. I don't think I can remember seeing anything more beautiful in my life. We're out. We're free. This never-ending nightmare is only minutes from finishing for good.
"That's a sight for sore eyes," Zoe comments, reflecting my own feelings.
A copper bell rings as we push open the door. The air is cold despite the buzzing heater in the corner of the room and the food is questionably fresh but I'm not about to start complaining. I'd take anything from what we just endured.
"Phone," Zach states in unison with Roberto's, "food."
Our party of five splits across the room faster than my hair after over straightening it. Roberto beelines for the ready-made ham sandwiches. Zoe heads to the checkout. Lucy goes to the back rooms to look for a shopkeeper. And I find myself following Zach's tail to the phone booth in the corner of the service station.
"I'll call the cops first," Zach tells me upon reaching our destination. He doesn't seem surprised that I followed him. In my head he's glad that I did, but his face doesn't show it either way.
"Good idea," I nod, suddenly regretting choosing to follow him. What am I supposed to do while he talks to the emergency services? Pretend to look busy? So I pull out my phone as if doing something which is pointless and probably looks really obvious as we still don't have any reception.
"That's weird."
I look up, "What?"
"The line went dead."
Confused, our gazes slip from each other's faces to scanning the rest of the room for the cause of the phone failure. Lucy's back from the rooms she slipped off too and looks at us with the same expression - clearly overhearing our conversation. Zoe stands near Roberto amongst the food where an unpaid chocolate bar has expanded Roberto's cheeks to point he resembles a chipmunk. Finally five sets of eyes land on the sixth member of our party who stands unannounced at the entrance to the service station.
"What are you doing 'ere?"
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A/N:
And finally they're free from the mangroves. But you know what they say: "Out of the fry pan and into the fire . . ."
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