MOMENTS

"I love freaks. I don't care if you're a wild one…"

Tove Lo

If someone once told me that I'd end up kissing Curly, I would have said they should be locked up in the same mental asylum he would eventually end up in. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I never imagined myself in this position, yes. However, do I have any regrets? I can honestly say no. Except for the fact that I didn't see it sooner. The inevitability of it.

Let's see, it all started at Melissa Brenneman's party. On July 21st, 2014. A remix of Tove Lo's Habits blasted through the speakers. I always liked the song, the romanticism of wanting someone so much that when they're gone, you lose yourself. Idealistic dreams about love were some of the things I kept inside. I always put on a facade of aloof snobbery around people. I don't trust anyone except those who have been loyal to me before. Nadine, she's one of those. I've known her so long my mask has slipped more times than I can count. She knows me and I know her.

The trust issue happened when I was younger. Whatever I do, revealing myself, making myself vulnerable to people, has been my biggest fear since childhood.

I think it's because if I let anyone look close enough, they'll see that I'm not the perfect, ice queen of my conveniently ruled kingdom. The fact that Rhonda Wellington Lloyd as they knew her had feelings beside boredom and slight amusement is unacceptable. Sitting atop the throne of Haverton Heights High School was not an easy task. However, people always need a leader. Someone who gets things started, the organiser, that's where I come in. I embodied change. I put the cliques away quietly without any fuss, toppled the previous ruling class. They've all graduated now. I had my family donate to the school so I can have some sway with the educators of our fine institution. I became junior class president so that I can be aware of everyone who resides in my kingdom.

I never could have expected one variable to bite me back in the ass: enter one Thaddeus Gammelthorpe. You know that saying keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer? I should have taken that a little more to heart because I was about to learn it's true meaning.

Nadine was making out with the German exchange student who was leaving at the end of the summer. The party was in full swing with the stoners in the corner gazing up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, the spiked punch making everybody laugh a little louder, and the music thumping against the thin walls of the Brenneman house. I opened the French doors that lead to an outdoor patio with a pool. Only several guest were out there. They paid me no attention and went back to their conversations. The evening air nipped at me. I continued to the side of the house, I knew there would be no one there, and sat on one of Melissa's outdoor benches.

Lately, parties have suffocated me. They used to be fun but ever since Kieran moved away and I was left alone… They reminded me too much of him. He loved to party. He adored people and always had laughter in his eyes. I gave him my heart but he was a realistic boy. He said the distance would break us up anyway, why not just do it before he left? So, we separated and that was that. Now, if Facebook was accurate, he has a new girlfriend by the name of Sandy Callahan. A stunning blonde with bright blue eyes and pixie features. A complete opposite of me. In her profile picture, she had her arms looped around his neck, their eyes staring straight at the camera. They looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. Totally tacky. It was then I slammed my laptop shut and took another shot of Vodka.

That was about a week ago.

I craned my neck to gaze at the stars but the tiny sliver of the moon caught my attention. Most of it was hidden in the shadows. Its craters safely away from scrutiny. I leaned my back against the wall and felt the loud bass of the pop song playing inside, it's thumping the same as the beating of my heart. I could hear the cheers as someone won a game of flip cup. There was at least a hundred people inside and yet, I, seating just on other side, have never felt more alone.

The crunching of the gravel alerted me of someone's presence.

"Hey. I knew I'd find you here."

Nadine popped around the corner before standing some distance away from where I was sitting. Her brows were furrowed, she was hesitant.

"Hey. How's the German?" I asked.

She smiled, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. "He's great. Good kisser. No commitment. Pure fun." She waggled her brows before her face became serious once again. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I shrugged.

I knew what was coming. Words of comfort. She was going to tell me that Kieran was not the only one. Logically, I knew all of this but my feelings were another matter. Sometimes, the brain is aware but the heart is slower to catch up.

"There's someone who wants to see you," Nadine said. On the other side of the wall, I heard breaking glass and then loud guffaws.

"Who?"

She frowned. I noticed the red solo cup in her hand was still full of beer. Nadine doesn't like to drink but likes giving off the impression that she does. She once said it made people more liable to talk to her. More effective at gathering intel.

"Someone who we haven't seen in a while."

I tried to hide the excitement that sprung up inside of me. Was the tryst between him and the blonde pixie over?

"Kieran is back?" I gasped, ready to stand up.

"No, Rhonda. He just moved away." Nadine looked more cautious. "Kieran's gone. He's not coming back. The sooner you accept that, the better you will feel."

Someone who we haven't seen in a while…

I felt frozen. It couldn't be… I have a feeling I knew who it was. It's been four, nearly five, years. My airways seemed blocked and my lungs squeezed.

I struggled to say "Is it– Is it Curly?"

Her green eyes got bigger with shock that I guessed correctly. With trepidation, she nodded. "I didn't even– Well, none of us knew he was coming back. Prefers Thad now. Or Thaddeus. I don't think you'll gain favour with him if you call him Curly."

My hands balled into fists on my lap immediately.

"Why is he here? I thought he's some form of royalty now or whatever."

I knew exactly what he was. A son of a Marquis. A formal title relating to a nobleman who was only one step below a Duke. I had to brush up on my English Aristocracy after finding out the news that Curly's father was an illegitimate child of a Marquis. Even with his illegitimacy, he was the eldest son and when the man died, his will was made out to him, not his legitimate children. I put on a confused mask, I never want to give the impression that I was fully aware of Curly's history.

"Yes. But he's come back, he's inside. He's talking to Melissa and Gerald."

I spared a glance at Nadine. There's something she wasn't telling me.

"He doesn't know I'm here, does he?"

She twiddled her thumbs before playing with the zipper of her hoodie. Her eyes couldn't meet mine. Her tell. She looked guilty to boot.

"Why did you say he wants to talk to me?"

With a shake of her head and a slight smile, "Because I think you should talk to him."

I laughed. It sounded hollow to my ears.

"It's been years, Nadine. I'm sure he doesn't care. I don't care. There's no need for us to speak."

"There is if he's going to Haverton next month," she mumbled.

"What?" I snapped.

It couldn't be. I thought this was only a visit. Apparently not. I bit my lip and thought of what I was going to say. How I was going to react. Bored? Surprised? Amiciable? Curly and I didn't exactly part on friendly terms. I remember "I'll maim you if I ever see you again" thrown around. By me.

"I'm going to go back inside. It's cold out here. Summer in Hillwood is basically non-existent," Nadine said, getting up. Her white camisole inched higher as she stretched. "I've done my civic duty. I've warned you. Let's see if you have the guts to face him."

I hated taunting of any kind so I gave my best friend the finger and she walked away laughing. However, she was right. It would take guts to face him. Once he finds out I'm actually here, hiding out would be seen as a form of weakness.

So I stood up. Walked to the edge of the house, ready to enter, and then I turned back and sat back down on the bench. Why is he here? I thought he'd live happily ever after in a castle off the coast in England. Never to be seen again.

After five minutes of thinking, my hands were so cold I was surprised they didn't fall off, I went back into the party. I didn't have to look too hard. There was a circle of people around him. I was knocked back by how he looked. It was still him but, how do I put it? Better? More handsome? Less creepy?

There were still the glasses. They weren't circular nor red anymore but sleek with tortoiseshell frames. If anyone ever had the pleasure, I say that sarcastically, of being up close and personal with Curly's face, they would notice how his eyes looked dark from afar but is actually a deep blue, almost purple, under intense observation. At that present moment, they were crinkled in enjoyment. He stood taller, a little over six feet, but hunched. His dark hair had been cut in one of those popular styles, the sides being short and the top being long. He ran a hand through it as he smiled at Melissa then gave a wink. She laughed at something he said.

My mouth felt dry.

A hand gripped my arm. I turned around and was faced with my best friend.

"I'm guessing you're too nervous to talk to him," she whispered as we both watched him get along so well with our classmates.

I shook my head.

"Not at all. Just wondering when he got some fashion sense."

"I wonder too. Looks like he stepped out of a GQ feature called 'Casual Elegance'. Geez, way to make all the other guys here feel insecure."

I snorted. "He's trying too hard."

"Whatever he's selling, they're buying," she remarked.

She was right. Kelly Marie Smith was hanging on to his every word and he was milking it. I thought about my car sitting on the driveway outside but then our eyes met. Even with all the people in the way, he saw me. It was too late to run. He paused, only for a little while, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he continued talking to Melissa.

"Please tell me I've stepped into the Twilight Zone."

Beside me, Nadine laughed, hand still on my arm.

"No, just another episode of Blast from the Past with Rhonda Lloyd. Pardon my language but you looked like you were about to shit yourself."

I smiled at her, scrunching up my nose and baring my teeth slightly. I closed my mouth with an audible snap as if I were trying to bite her. "Don't be crass. I'm gonna go now."

"You sure?" she asked, eyeing Curly.

I gave one last glance across the room. He was still busy chatting up Mel. A hand placed on her forearm. He hasn't been back for five minutes and he's already scoring with one of the most admired girls in our class. What is the world coming to? Of course, Mel didn't knew Curly before he was Thad. Urgh. Stupid name.

"Yeah, tell Mel I feel a little tired."

Nadine leaned in closer and breathed, "Chicken."

A shiver ran down my spine. Not only because I hate it when people whisper in my ear but because of how accurate she was.

I gave her my dirtiest glare. "Find the German and have a fun night. I'm going home to watch Legally Blonde."

She tilted her head as though she was trying to read my mind. Then she patted my back and gave me a disappointed frown. I stayed until she made her way back to the crowd. Lucas Tilbury immediately let out a howl of victory before passing another cup of beer to her. It was definitely time to leave. I said goodbye to a couple of people I passed in the hallway, dodged Marnie Sanders' drink before it spilled on my suede pumps, she apologised, we're cool, grabbed my coat and stepped out into Mel's massive driveway. My car was parked nearer to the house since Nadine and I arrived early to help her prep.

"Hey!"

I whipped around at the sound of the voice. A pair of dark blue eyes blinked at me from the doorway. The music spilled out from the opening. He leaned against the mull post, red solo cup grasped by his long fingers. A sliver of light gave the right side of his glasses a soft glare and hid the rest of his face in the shadows.

I saw him slowly reveal a small smile. A predator's teeth before chomping down on its prey.

"Hello there, my sweets," he greeted.

His voice was different what I remembered. Gone was the squeakiness that early puberty had brought about. The sliminess was still there, of course, only, this time, a tinge of an English accent is attached.

I quirked one side of my mouth. "You've gotten fancier."

"I wish I could say the same to you," he murmured. "I expected growth and maturity in the four years we've been apart and yet I can't find any trace of it on you."

I laughed although there was nothing funny about this situation. He's smile had gotten smug and he unwound himself like a lazy cat, standing up straight before closing the door behind him. I stiffened as I realised he was walking closer. He stopped a few feet away from me.

"Well, I'm glad you can still find it in your heart to make fun of me. I would love to stay and chat, I'm sure you have lots of things to say about England and your palace or castle or whatever it is that you lived in but my my–look at the time! I have to hop along. Plenty of things to do in the morning."

I started digging for my keys in my pocket. When I found them, I held it up high and shook until it made a metallic noise just to prove that I was leaving. He looked unimpressed.

"Gotta go. So nice to see you!" I snapped and headed for my car.

I could feel him watching me. He didn't say anything until I opened the car door.

"You shouldn't be so afraid."

I closed the door quietly before I turned around. His hands were in his pockets and his chin tilted down but his eyes were on me. The smile was gone. I leaned against my Chevy, the cold metal pressed against the bare skin of my arms.

"Me? I'm not afraid."

He lifted a brow at my answer. I shrugged.

"It doesn't matter if you don't believe me. I just really need to leave. Now."

"So, go ahead," he dared.

The roller coaster chugs along. Up and up. I grip his hand and never let go.

'Can I tell you something?' he asks.

'What's that?'

'I think I–' The screaming drowns out the rest of his words.

My heart started beating fast in response to the memory. The keys were starting to slip around my clammy hand. There was only the soft thump of the latest top 40 hit in the background. He continued to watch me, looking like he was about to say something. Then, as if he decided against it, he gave a small shake of the head and turned back to the house.

"Good night, Rhonda," he called out as he walked away.

I hated that I felt so alive for the first time in many years.