Kiss Me Not

Ultimas Palabras

What are the odds of meeting someone you haven't have contact with for 13 years?

Apparently, it is possible.

Nathan turns out to be a legitimate relative. Once he shows me a childhood picture bits of memory here and there starts to pop out, but only flashes since I had been just 4 when we moved away from each other. After that, due to the load of work my dad got, we were not able to meet them through the years.

My father and Nathan's mom - Aunt Sarah- are cousins and has lost communication when dad started chemo. I watch her drop in painful sobs as I tell her that my dad is gone- having nearly swept away by the tide of emotions. But I fought it. Not until I got home and closed the door of my room did I cry again, missing him.

I feel that things starts to stir in my life. Finding Nathan did not only mark the end of my solo flight in school but also offered jobs for me and my mom. Aunt Sarah, tells us that there is an opening of waitering jobs at their cafe as two of the employee quit with no apparent reason-which I think had been a lie. But mom was more than happy to take it but I have to think through the pros and cons.

I have never been good with handelling people, Nathan tells me that he's the same- although amiable and funny enough. Seemingly, the solitary gene seems to run in the family. Nathan however, performs at the cafe and the attention bugs him but he had no choice-it's either he work for his allowance or go broke, as her father, Will, has indicated.

Nathan's family has been generous to us, even offering that he drive me to and from school everyday and I was more than happy to take it. I had developed the trauma of riding the bus since the unfortunate event. The car rides are short and has become silent since our childhood memories are limited. Our topic today however, converge into a single point as he remembers the first day of meeting him.

"Why was Callen Richards chasing you?" he asks as I open the door of his car.

"Well, good morning to you too, Nate." I reply, buckeling up.

"You have to tell me, I don't want to get involve with the likes of him. He's not your boyfriend is he?" He panics.

"Why, do you like him?"

"No! It's just that he's sort of popular." He says flustered by my question as he starts driving.

"I have not but a clue of who, you're talking about."

"The tall guy that was chasing after you the day we met."

"Oh, him." The flashback of the unfortunate bus ride pops in my head again then my iPod in his evil hands. "Crap!"

"What?" Nate slams the break, which plunges me forward the seatbelt into my chest and stomach.

"That guy has my iPod and ouch." I groan as the whiplash causes my neck to stiffened up.

"I thought you forgot something, sorry about that." He smiles sheepishly and resume driving

"How do I get it back?"

"I can't help you with that, I honestly don't like Callen and he hangs out with a mean crowd" He frowns, making my heart drops.

What will happen to my baby? I pout nervously, as the thing had been my dad's last memento.

"I have to get it somehow," I sigh.

"Well you're in luck, he's car is behind us." He says as he pulls into the parking space, as Callen pulls over to the next spot.

"Don't forget to lock the doors," he mutters and leaves.

"WHAT? You can't possibly just leave me here!" I get out of the car yelling at him, nervous of being alone. Nathan turns around and pointing on someone beside me.

"Hello there, pervert," A rich velvety voice starts. I spin around and find Callen Richards and me face to face with only a few inches in between us, his face clean shaven and his kohl black hair up. His lips sporting a handsome smirk and his grey eyes warn and more intense than the last time I had seen him.

"What?" Blood starting arts to creep on my cheeks upon remembrance of the event.

"You necked me on the bus, I hope you didn't forget. If you did, I'll demonstrate, so you'll remember." He smirks, leaning against his ostentatious blue car.

"It's a misunderstanding." I reply looking away from him.

"Then, why did you run away from me?" He asks, cornering me between him and the fence.

"I was surprised."

"Right- do you always do that whenever you're surprise?" I glance at him and his gray eyes amused. He's stunning with his jet black hair swept to the side, his angled jaws and his full red lips in a lopsided smirk. I'm starting to lose it. I'm a girl afterall, but I regain my composure though my heart was beating erratically.

"Honestly, I didn't mean it and can I please have my iPod back?" I look at him this time, making it perfectly clear that I'm not interested in him, whatsoever.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"If you tell me your name," he smirks. I think, bitting my lower lip, this is a small demand compare the my baby's value.

"Emily," I state, my hand spreading in front of me. "Now, can I have it back?"

"Not so fast. Middle name? Last name?"

"Lucile Park." I say, getting more and more impatient.

"Grade?"

"You only asked for my name."

"Now, I'm asking more."

"Forget it," I murmur and turn to leave. Before I can even get out of the small space between the cars he grabs me by the wrist, opening up my hand and gives me back my earphones. "What is this? Where's the rest of my iPod?"

"You'll get it, if you tell me more."

"Stop toying me, you have a girlfriend," not sure whether what I said has any truth to it.

"Well, you're rather updated despite being new! Me and Courtney are on and off. And right now, I'm back on the market," he says and grins.

"Don't make me laugh, I don't care about your personal matters. Just give it back, please." I say promptly, anger boiling inside me. He looks at me in amazament as if looking at the only girl that rejected him.

"Fine," he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving the iPod and peeling the iPod of it's case. "Be strong" For a moment I'm shocked, how come I've never notice that before. I grabbed the iPod and look at it. There it was, my dad's last message even after he's gone.

Tears starts to form in my eyes and there's no stopping them. I turn to leave but Callen grabs my wrist again, forcing me to look at him. By this time, tears spring down my cheek. He panics, knowing nothing on how to comfort me.

"Did I offend you? Crap, I feel like such a douche," he murmurs, his eyebrows crunching up.

"Get off," I yank my wrist and ran away.

I need to go home, I can't just break down in public like this. My dad wants me to be strong-for mom and for myself. He wants me to move on and to stop hurting. To stop living in the past where he's always guiding me whenever I'm lost. I can't rely on him now, not in this lifetime.

I grab the iPod tightly as I ran.

Why can't I be like my mom, that within two months has already moved on?