"Trunks looked so sexy in those skates the other week." Zara commented, removing her own on at the skating rink a few days later. "When do I get to see him again?"
"Not for a while." I replied irritably. "He's busy with work."
"Can't he get out of it somehow?" She pleaded like an idiotic little girl.
"No, he can't, because he'll end up in more trouble with his family." I reasoned. "You see-"
I was cut off abruptly when a familiar figure made presence in the skating rink. Tall and gangly, with oily skin, hazy brown eyes, a freckled face and a reddish mass of hair. Curious, Zara turned behind her to see what had caught my attention, her shoulder length deepest black hair that she'd only just streaked deep purple slapping into my face.
"Isn't that Mason Carter, from school?" She questioned, to which I nodded from behind. He was about to purchase a ticket of entry, his face solemn and lonesome. "Looks lonely."
"Maybe we should let him hang out with us." I suggested, thinking back to when he'd gone grocery shopping with me. I couldn't help but feel bad about the way I'd treated him, and still regretted it. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since.
"No way!" Zara protested. "That's Mason Carter you're talking about. He'll make summer a living hell! Don't tell me you've started going soft on me."
"I have not! I just feel sorry for him."
"That's being soft." She pointed out, a comment which I could not refute. But I refused to give in and let her have her way. She sighed, reading the expression on my face. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when he ruins your summer."
"My summer's already ruined." I replied, getting up to return my rented skates and then making my way to the entrance desk. Mason saw me approaching, and gave me a startled glance before bending his head, pretending he hadn't noticed me.
"Hey Mason." I greeted, as kindly as I could. "How's summer been?"
"I thought you weren't going to talk to me." He mumbled, keeping his head down.
"Of course I am. Don't you still have hundreds of corny pickup lines to try on me. I'm not granting it will work, but you may as well give it a shot."
"You're not mad at me anymore?" He said in bewilderment.
"How can anyone stay angry at someone so irresistible?" I said sardonically, but he misunderstood..
"I know. Can you believe I literally have to beat the ladies away with a stick? No wonder you came crawling back to me."
"Don't get too carried away." I warned. "It'll only make me pissed with you again."
"Sorry, sorry." He held up both hands in protest.
"Zara and I were about to catch a movie." I said, gesturing to her over my shoulder. "Want to come?"
"Sure, why not?" He grinned happily. "What else do I have to do?"
"Then come on, we're leaving now."
I strode along the pavement once we were outside the skating rink, with Mason scurrying at my heels and Zara sulking along behind us. To eliminate the silence between us, I started a conversation about the essence of life and human existence in the hopes that Zara might be a little more social, despite the fact that being social simply wasn't in her nature. She ignored me at first, but soon was walking in line with us, taking control of most of the conversation. And to my surprise, Mason seemed to find the topic even more interesting than Zara did. Although I was glad that Mason and Zara seemed to be getting along, I couldn't help but remember the conversations shared between Trunks and I in the same carefree, way.
"So what movie are we going to see?" I asked upon arriving at the cinema.
"Something with horror in it." Both Zara and Mason said in union, turning to smile at each other once they did so.
"Fine." I said, purchasing three tickets to the only horror film available to see with the large amount of spending money Bulma had given me.
As it was a wet and rainy day, most people had retreated to the cinema instead of the usual beach. Therefore, the lobby was packed with people of all ages, cuing and cramming to buy food and drink before their movie was due to begin. We joined the cue, and I left Zara and Mason to continue their earlier discussion from where it left off, as I sank into my own state of gloom.
I missed Trunks. I could no longer deny it. Ever since he started being more distant and drawn in by his work so that I struggled to find time to talk to him, I had found myself thinking about him. His eyes…hair…smile…laugh. Simple things he'd so, or small habits he had, and the pointless conversations we'd shared would come back to me, and I couldn't knock them away again.
Stupid crush. How much longer until it goes away? I thought to myself. Hopefully soon, because I don't think I can take this any longer. Stupid Bulma, it's all her fault! If she hadn't forced Trunks into work, I wouldn't have to think about him so much because I'd actually get to see him. Oh stuff it! After the movie, I'll go and see him anyway. Who cares about stupid Bulma?
My arrival at the front of the line broke my reverie, and I bought three large popcorns and soda with the leftover money, handing it out to my two other companions. We made our way inside the cinema, finding our seats in the back row. Naturally, it was packed with children. The younger ones threw popcorn at each other, while the older were far to involved with each other to notice the film. In fact, I was the only one who really watched it, as Mason and Zara were too worked up in their own conversation beside me. In truth, I hardly watched it either. I was thinking about something else…
When the film ended, I said a hurried goodbye to Zara and Mason, leaving them both startled.
"Don't you want to go to the beach with us?" Mason asked. "Zara says it's nice there when the rain hits the water."
"I'm sure it's utterly depressing." I replied sarcastically. "But I have to get back soon. Bulma is expecting me."
It felt strange to lie to Zara. I'd never done that before. Sure, I'd kept secrets, but when faced with admitting the truth, I did so without hesitation. It was this bond of trust that allowed her to believe me, and let me take the next bus back to Capsule corp. By this stage, the rain was so heavy that I was drenched from head to foot on my return. Not waiting to change out of my sodden jade coloured shirt and denim shorts, I took the short and memorable walk to Trunks' office, barging past Amanda without so much as a greeting.
Trunks was sitting at his desk in his white collared shirt, that looked as disheveled as usual, with black dress pants and a navy blue tie choking his neck. His matching black jacket had been tossed idly on the chair opposite his own, and he had a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, shuffling through several documents as he spoke to whomever was on the other end.
"I'll have to call you back." He said the instant he saw me, hanging up his phone and putting it to one side. He dropped the papers in an instant, looking at my quizzically with exhausted eyes from behind his reading glasses.
"Trunks…" I breathed, unsure of how to explain myself. The door burst open behind me, and Amanda bustled into the room.
"She just barged in, sir." Amanda explained. "I couldn't stop her."
"It's alright, Amanda." Trunks smiled warmly, no longer looking directly at me. "I invited Pan to visit me this afternoon. She's a bit late, so she probably was in too much of a hurry to get here that she didn't pay me any attention. You can go now, it's ok."
Not entirely convinced, Amanda backed out of the room, and I crossed the floor, trembling and feeling the cold of the rainwater drip from the ends of my shoulder length, sodden raven black hair.
"So," He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Why are you really here?"
"I honestly don't know." I told him truthfully. He raised one, lavender eyebrow, but said nothing in response.
"Well, since you are here, you might as well stay." He gestured to the chair. "Do you want to sit down?"
"I'm too wet." I reasoned.
He shrugged. "I don't care. Oh, and put my jacket on if you feel cold."
I did as I was told, wrapping the jacket around my shoulders and was overwhelmed by his unique scent. I pulled it closer, holding it against my frozen body. He didn't move, staring at me from across his desk, and I stared back blankly, shifting uncomfortably in the silence.
"Work good?" I asked in an attempt to make conversation.
"No. And it never has been." He sat back in his chair with a sigh, opening his mouth to blurt out things he'd hold within his own heart for far too long. "It's all my mother's fault. She pressured me so much in high school, because she knew that I was to be the future of her company. She didn't want it to fall into foreign hands after her death, so she needed an heir to continue it. I told her that Bra should do it, because Bra has always been so much more intelligent than me. But Bra wasn't good enough for her….it had to be her oldest son. I was the soul heir to he company, and I was under so much pressure just to make her proud. I made her so happy when I finally got the job here. I hated it…hated it so much. But I couldn't tell her, because I just wanted her to be proud of me. She was, of course, but I still hated it. I hated it more with every year, until I couldn't stand it anymore. It's the same with training, with my father. But I can't keep everyone happy, especially when I'm doing things that I don't want to do. God, what am I supposed to do?"
His words were filled with passion…with emotions felt but never dared spoken of, and I could tell when I looked into his eyes that he feared he'd said too much. I sat there, baffled, unsure of what to do.
"Trunks, no one should force you to do anything you don't want to." I finally came up with my reply. "You shouldn't care about Bulma and Vegeta, because it's your life and not theirs. Sure, they'll be angry at first, but they'll get over it. You should listen to your own heart, follow your own path and achieve what you want to achieve. Don't listen to them, because you're living for you."
"When did you become so smart?" He smiled softly, pushing back out of his chair and taking slow steps towards me.
"My family always told me to stand up for what I believed in, to chose and decide my own path, and to become my own person. It's just the way I grew up." I said with a shrug. "So…if you weren't working for Capsule corp., and you weren't spending every free minute you had training with Vegeta, what would you do?"
By this stage, he was standing directly above me, pale cheeks flushing scarlet with one hand resting on the back of my chair. "You'll laugh."
"I promise I'll try not to." I smiled, tilting my head upwards. He stared down at me, expression stony, but with cheeks still burning red.
"Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a….a musician. I had lessons when I was still at school, and I really liked it."
"What did you play?" I asked, seeing nothing funny about it at all.
"Guitar." He mumbled, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"Wow, that's so cool!" I exclaimed, finding it hard to imagine that someone as soft as Trunks could play in a rock band. "You'll have to play for me sometime."
"I'm a little rusty." He replied, the red creeping out of his cheeks. "I haven't played in years. Hell, I don't even own a guitar."
"I bet you're really good." I complimented. "Trunks, you can achieve anything you want to achieve. If you want to play guitar, than go for it. Who cares what your parents say, because they can go to hell. You have to believe it's not just a dream, and that you really can do it. Otherwise, you'll never get there." I looked up into his eyes meaningfully. "I believe in you."
"God, Pan." He whispered, and I became aware that he was now stroking my hair, toying with it between his fingers. It sent shivers down my spine…an indescribable sensation…his touch was so soft…I wondered if his lips were soft too.
He came to my side, and curiosity got the better of me. I parted my lips in anticipation, and he bent his body closer towards mine, still sitting in the stiff office chair. The last thing I remembered before I touched his lips was the rain pounding on the office window, and the very essence of his soul evident in his sky blue eyes.
His lips were indeed soft…softer than his touch, his words, and his aura put together. I gasped a little, surprised that anything could feel as soft…as if his very lips had been formed from a cloud. They moved against mine, hands resting on either of my shoulders and pulling me upwards toward him, and my hands automatically came to his cheeks…so soft…like silk…his hair softer as I ran my fingers through it. It was then that I felt his tongue slide out and trace a line along my lips, trying to part them. I held them together firmly, eyes shut in pure ecstasy.
He may have been able to part my lips if we'd kissed any longer…if we weren't interrupted. I heard the door open, and I'm sure he did too, but we pretended not to notice, hoping it was no more than the wind.
"My God!" I heard someone exclaim. He pulled away from me immediately, letting me fall breathlessly back into the chair. We both turned simultaneously to see Amanda filling the doorframe, eyes wide in shock, taking in everything.
"No Amanda, it's…" He struggled to explain himself. "It's not what you think….I wasn't trying to….I mean she….she…"
She stared between us, gaze switching from one to the other. At the time, I was too young to understand what the scene may have meant to someone older. Seeing a teenage girl being passionately kissed by a man so much older than her…holding her…as if trying to prevent her from escape…
"I won't say anything, Trunks." She said sternly. "But believe me, this will get out before too long."
She shut the doors with a snap, and exited the office briskly. I listened to the sounds of her fading footsteps, keeping my eyes on Trunks who was staring back at me in profound confusion, as if trying to figure out what had just happened.
Without another word, I ran out of the office to the elevator, pressing the button hurriedly. He did not try to stop me, and I didn't look back to see what he was doing. I climbed into the elevator, relieved to find it empty, and pressed the button for the ground floor, backing into the corner and erupting in a flood of tears.
I had just experienced my first kiss, and it was with a 29 year old…a family friend. A man who was still unsure of his own identity…the man who had baby-sat me as a young child…a man who I loved as a brother, who I respected and trusted as my friend. He'd kissed me…he felt the same…he loved me. Did he? Was it love? How was I meant to know? What would my family think?
My family, I missed them so much. I wanted to go home…away from here….away from him, where I couldn't cause him anymore trouble.
What had I gotten myself into?????
