Ch. 9: A Kiss

MAX CAULFIELD'S POV:

Holy shit! Aaron could stop time? I thought I was the only one. I knew there was something about him, but this was ridiculous.

We were walking down the gravel road that led to the American Rust Junkyard.

I glanced over to him again, still in shock. He really didn't look like someone who could literally make the world bow with the power at his fingertips. Then again, neither do I. Looks could be deceiving. How many other people out there could rewind time?

A deep sigh escaped my lips.

"Thinking about something?" A quiet voice from beside brought out of my thought.

My head turned to see Aaron looking at me, his face lined with mild concern.

"Just…spacing out. A bad habit of mine," I replied as we continued on down the beaten track.

Aaron carefully shifted the guitar case on his shoulder, "I see."

I was so not good at maintaining a conversation, especially with people I didn't know that well. I suspected Aaron was the same. Maybe we were too similar in some aspects. With Chloe, I could pretty much talk for hours about anything. That came with time though. If I could just find the right topic to start us off…

"So…you play?" Aaron asked as he motioned his head towards the guitar case.

Guitars were a topic I could endlessly talk about if you let me.

"I do. I'm not great at it, but I enjoy it. Probably as much as photography," I admitted. "Whenever I play, I can just forget about everything going on and chill out for a while."

"I know the feeling," Aaron said. "Before my mom died she taught me how to play the guitar. I loved the feeling of creating music. I joined the school band soon after that, but the guitar was not allowed."

"So what did you play?" I asked.

He was quiet, and then he mumbled something.

"What?" I asked.

He sighed, resignedly, focusing on his shoes as he answered "Saxophone."

I held back my laughter, I could not see him playing the saxophone. Despite my best efforts to hide it, he must have noticed my stifled laughter. Thankfully, he didn't seem too annoyed by my lack of tact.

"How long have you played?" I asked, trying to salvage the situation.

"I played the saxophone for about six months, and I gave up when mom wanted to teach me hw to play the guitar," he stated. His voice was halfway between happy and sad.

"Sweet," I said, "maybe you'll have to show me your mad skills sometime."

"Only if I can hear you play," he countered shyly, kicking a loose gravel with his foot.

"I guess we have a deal then." I agreed, feeling a bit nervous at the thought of playing in front of him. The only person I had ever really feel comfortable playing in front of was Chloe. She might tease me a lot, but when it comes to something I'm super self-conscious about she goes into Major Encouragement Mode. I knew she would not be secretly judging me either. Maybe it was time to start widening my audience.

Eventually, we made it to the junkyard, a home away from home. I was a bit out of breath when we got there, totally not used to walking around this much. Sports, exercise in general really, was not my forte.

"God there have been so many memories here," I said looking around at the endless stacks of warped car frames, mountains of dirty rags and other unwanted refuse. Tall trees swished in the background, encircling the Junkyard. The ground shook slightly as a train passed through on the railway line. I made a mental note to stay the hell away from the tracks, and most importantly to keep Chloe away from them too, not wanting to repeat certain experiences. In the distance, I saw the unassuming gray building that used to be Chloe and Rachel's hideout. Now it was more like a memorial. My heart constricted painfully, knowing Rachel's dismal fate. Instead of focusing on it, I turned my attention back to Aaron.

"I bet," Aaron stated taking in his surroundings.

We sat in the shade of a pile of rusted cars stacked on top of each other.

"Can you tell me about your mother?" I asked. The Junkyard lent itself to morbid topics, especially with what happened to Rachel.

He chuckled, "She had brown hair like mine, but her eyes were brown, I got my blue eyes from my grandma. She was about five feet ten inches tall. She was very beautiful, kind but sad." His brow furrowed slightly as he recalled the memories. He turned toward me, "Why do you ask?"

"You seem to admire her," I said fiddling with the laces on my right converse shoe, "I'd like to know why."

He paused, trying to put together the words to describe his mother. She was the only person in my life who seemed to love me… until I met you and Chloe."

I felt my face getting warm, "Um… I… um… thanks. What's your favorite song?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"Solsbury Hill by Peter Gabriel," he stated, his expression distant like he was in a place and time a million miles away, "the song is very descriptive and I always wanted a large eagle to come from the sky and take me to a better place."

It took me a moment to take in the information, and then I said, "Mine is Obstacles by Syd Matters. I love the message that life will always be a challenge." I was quiet for a while and so was he, I wanted to show him the memorial, but I did not want to force it on him.

"What's that over there?" He asked pointing at the memorial.

"Um," I said relieved that he found it on his own, "you should see it for yourself." I stood up and helped Aaron too his feet.

We walked to the memorial, and I explained to him what it was, "I assume Chloe told you about Rachel?"

He nodded solemnly. The thought that this had been Rachel Amber's resting place made me feel strange and sad. It always would, no matter how much time passed. At one point, both Chloe and I had been so convinced that we would find her alive and well. That hope just was not to be. While I did not know Rachel personally, she obviously meant so much to Chloe. That much was most evident the day we first exhumed her. I can still remember that day like it was yesterday. Hearing the pain in her voice and feeling her body shaking in my arms, her warm tears falling onto my neck. As far as I was aware, Chloe had only ever reacted as strongly as that one other time in her life, when William died. That thought made my heart constrict painfully.

"This was where we found her body," I tried to hold back my tears, but I failed. My voice stuck in my throat, making it hard to convey the story I already found it difficult enough to tell. I took a deep, calming breath and continued as best I could, trying not to remember how broken Chloe had looked and sounded that day. "The memorial was placed there by Chloe, she made a cross out of twigs and twine and placed it where her head was. Every week she places something around the cross. Last week she placed a handful of gravel here. I placed a picture of a deer here with her."

"Huh," Arron muttered while looking down at the makeshift grave marker, "Chloe never struck me as a religious person."

"She's not," I stated, doing everything I could to keep my tone calm and steady, a battle I seemed to be losing as I whispered the next few words "she said that it just felt right."

He sat down at the foot of the memorial, and I joined him. We were silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at the twisted cross. Everything that had happened in that second week of October felt like a bad dream. If only it had been. I glanced over to Aaron, noticing the melancholy in his expression as his blue eyes fixated on the cross. He was the first person besides Chloe and I, other than Frank, who had remained here for a prolonged period of time. Not only that, but he was the first person not involved with the whole incident somehow to have visited, as far as I was aware. After a few moments he finally spoke again, sounding emotionally strained.

"My town placed a large engraved river-stone on the bank where my mother was found. 'Rest in Peace: Darlene Watson.'" He swallowed hard as he gathered his thoughts, "There is one thing that she told me that always tuck with me: it is better to be abused then to abuse. That is why I never used my time stopping power against my sister or my father, so I would be the bigger person."

I put my hand on his, and he squeezed it tightly. "Thank you…" he practically whispered, "for caring."

I had no idea why, but I leaned in and stole a kiss from him. We were silent, his blue eyes stared into mine, and my blue eyes stared into his. I was about to apologize, but before I could, he leaned in and kissed me back. The second kiss lasted for thirty seconds, and it felt right, nothing else mattered in those thirty seconds. Little did I know that two evil eyes were spying on us from a distance.

AARON WATSON'S POV:

I kissed her, I could not believe it, and it felt right. I had never kissed a girl before, it felt… strange, but in a good way. She was as red as a tomato when we separated, and her expression was a combination of shock and joy. My expression was probably the mirror image of hers.

Figuring that we both needed a bit of time to take this all in, I decided to explore the junkyard, and I ran into Chloe, she had her arms crossed and she looked pissed.

"Chloe, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I saw that you know," she stated, "you made out with Max."

"Oh shit she saw," I thought to myself. I panicked and hysterically apologized and gave explanations. Chloe and Max seemed really close, and that was an understatement. Of course she would be pissed about this. I had pushed my way in on something I shouldn't have without giving it a second thought. Now, I was going to pay the price.

I flinched slightly as she raised her hand, wondering if she was going to beat me up or something, but she didn't. Instead, she pinched my lips shut and said, "Shhh."

I kept quiet, not wanting to anger her any more than she probably already was. Something told me that I would stand literally no chance against her rage.

"I'm not mad," she purred seductively, "I'm just jealous."

She grabbed me by the shoulders and she kissed me for five seconds, and then she slipped her tongue into my mouth and spun it around inside. After fifteen seconds, she released me from the French kiss, but she still gripped my shoulders. I just stood there dazed for a few seconds, trying to process everything. It was the very last reaction I had been expecting from her.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked my voice coming out half-strangled.

"That's for stealing a kiss off my girl. Now we're even," she grinned impishly, reveling in the chaos she had caused.

She walked away to find Max, but one thing stuck in my mind. 'I'm not mad, I'm just jealous.' I had no idea what she meant by that, was she jealous about me kissing Max, or Max kissing me? I pondered that question as I approached the girls, not sure what was going to happen next.

Thank You Co-Authors! And thank you readers.