"I hate you!" I hiss, glaring at him. He glares right back.
But it's there; we both feel it. It's an odd feeling, to say the least. Yet oddly familiar at the same time.
"Yeah, well, I hate you first!" he replies, stepping closer to me. I open and close my mouth, not knowing how to respond to this. I settle for an angry sigh.
"Yeah...well...fine!" I say through gritted teeth, before turning and storming away from him, intending to whisk the bowl out of the sink and sweep gracefully back into the main bar. It doesn't quite happen that way, though.
I'm only about six feet away when I hear him start after me, but I don't speed up. Part of me wants him to catch up, for reasons I'm not willing to admit to. I'm not disappointed; he grabs my arm, pulling me back around to face him.
Before I can even protest, he pulls me into him and kisses me with more passion than I ever thought he could possess. After the initial shock passes, I kiss him back with fervor, wrapping my arms around his neck. He tightens his grip on me and walks me backwards slowly, until I feel my back hit the sink. I tangle my hands in his hair and push myself up onto my toes, unable to get close enough.
Suddenly, he pulls back and looks into my eyes. They search mine, full of an emotion I can't really identify. Then he's kissing me again. I stop him this time, pushing his chest until he backs away, just far enough for me to lower back onto my feet.
"Shane...wait...what's—what's going on here?" I pant, looking up at him. He looks just as confused as I feel. I bring a hand to my mouth, my face burning slightly from being scratched by his poorly-shaven face.
"Heat of the moment. You're scared, I'm...nervous. It's a normal reaction. It doesn't mean anything," he says quickly. I'd believe him, except his eyes still look unsure to me.
"I'm, um...I think I should go check on Jimmy," I stutter, grabbing the bowl and hurrying out of the kitchen.
--
I stare after Nikki. Where the hell had that come from? What had we been fighting about? I honestly don't remember right now; I just remember being super-pissed at her. One minute I was hating her and the next thing I know, we're against the sink.
And I'm harder than I've been since...well, in a really long time, anyway.
After a few minutes, I go back out to the bar. Jimmy is still laying on the dilapidated couch under the window. Nikki is sitting next to him, holding his hand as she cleans his wounds, looking at him worriedly. For one fleeting moment, I'm envious of him.
--
I hear Shane come back out, but I don't look at him. I know, I just know, that if our eyes meet, everyone else will know what just happened.
Yeah, Nikki. Because these people have nothing else on their minds. Watching a guy get blown up then delivered alive by the sheriff's SUV, after seeing a woman hanged two feet away, is nothing compared to what two nameless, faceless locals were doing in the kitchen. Jesus, self-centered much?
Stupid, really, the way it started.
"I can't believe you let that stupid frat boy kiss you." I roll my eyes. Good God, not now!
"Piss off, Shane. It didn't mean anything." I don't turn.
"Yeah, to him." I hear the smirk in his voice.
I whirl around from my spot by the sink, filling a bowl with water for Jimmy's cuts. "Shut. Up."
"What's wrong? It didn't mean anything, remember?"
"What the hell do you want, Shane? Aren't things bad enough? Your best friend just got blown the hell up, and you think the best use for your time is following me in here to torment me?"
He doesn't respond; he just glares at me.
"What is with you?" I all but screech, not in the mood for this, but never one to let things lie.
"Nothing," he mutters.
"God, Shane, don't things ever change with you? You're exactly the same now as you were when we were kids!" I roll my eyes again, turning back to my task.
"At least I don't go around letting summer kids kiss me." He doesn't say it loudly, but it might as well have been through a megaphone. I take a deep breath before slamming the thankfully-plastic bowl into the sink, and walking over to him to get right in his face.
I don't want to remember anymore after that.
--
I shake my head to clear it. Betrayal, that's what it was. She betrayed the island code: we stick to our own. I can't remember the last time a local married, or even dated, someone not from the island.
Yeah. Yeah, that's it. Must be.
Maybe no one marries off the island because it's an island, genius, an annoying inner voice says a second later. It was heightened emotions, and you know it.
Ridiculous; I am Shane Pierce. I don't even have emotions to heighten. So, yeah...I'm just gonna go with breaking the code.
The kiss thing was just...well, let's face it, I've wondered ever since middle school.
Just before one of us dies seems like as good a time as any.