Euphoria
"I'm gonna rip your tits of you son of a-"
"Sam!" I pulled him away from the waiter who he wanted to punch so badly
"We can't let you dine here, sir. She's too informal. We have a dress code." The mouse-like waiter squeaked nervously.
"Is this some kind of a scam? I handed a down payment for a reservation, then your fucked up restaurant doesn't even have the decency to return it when you decide a customer's too informal to enter?" He growled. His whole face was hostile, was dark red with anger. The way his hate-filled eyes glared piercingly at the waiter made me cringe. He was looking at the waiter like he didn't have a right to live.
A bald, black man who was obviously a bouncer stood behind Sam. He was meaty and big, but not big enough to tower Sam's six foot something inches height. Still, he had more muscles, and that was our cue to run away.
"Sam, let's go." I grabbed his hard arm and pulled, but he didn't move an inch.
"What the fuck's happening here?" The bouncer's question boomed throughout the high-end restaurant, causing more head's to turn at our direction. More than half of the restaurant was warily watching the brewing brawl a few moments ago. Now, it was the whole restaurant.
"That girl's not dressed properly, and this guy's asking for a reservation fee refund." The waiter's voice broke.
"We don't give refunds, sir." The bouncer tried to keep his cool, although annoyance was all over his face.
"Then you should have told me that before I even stepped in this crappy place." Sam hit the bouncer hard on the shoulders, nearly knocking him out of balance. The bouncer's fat cheeks rumbled furiously. He grabbed Sam's collar and attempted to drag him out of the French doors. Before he could even move him, Sam flicked his arms off his polo, and hit him hard on the nose in one sharp blow.
"Sam! Stop it!" The bouncer wiped the blood off his nose, balled his large hands into fists and punched Sam hard on the eye. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I saw Sam lying on the floor, rolling and groaning in pain. He received more punches—by the stomach, the mouth and one more in the eye, making more tears fall down rapidly. I could see the pain in his eyes, in his face. It was so clear that I could feel it too. What does a sixteen-year-old boy have against a professionally trained boxer?
"Sam, please stop this!" He gave out one loud moan, then out of nowhere, stood up and punched the bouncer hard on his groin. He fell on the floor, on the verge of crying. Sam raised a fist, ready to give one more gut busting blow.
"I'm calling the cops." The mouse-like waiter quivered. I turned around to stop him, but he disappeared into the thick column of customers watching the fight.
"Please!" I buried my nails into his shoulders. He pushed me gently without looking, and suddenly another waiter that was walking in full speed with a tray of plates hit me as I tried to keep balance from the push.
I landed on top of the waiter. At one second, I saw a porcelain plate crash down on the floor and break, only a few millimetres away from my feet. Not even a second after that, more plates crashed down, this time, on my head. One was quickly followed after the other, giving me no time to squeal in pain. Each shard dug deep into my scalp, spreading a wave of excruciating pain throughout my head. I don't know how many fell. Maybe twenty? The last one was the worst. It forced the shards deeper into my skull, making me cringe at the sting it brought.
"Leah? Leah!" Sam left his fight and squatted beside me. I looked at the nearest wall, which was actually an enormous mirror. Fat drops of crimson red blood would ooze down my hairline, run across my face and drip continuously from the edges of my hair strands and on my dress. My whole forehead was full of blood.
If there was one thing I hated more than anything else, it would probably be blood. I'd swoon at the sight of it. When a hospital asked me for a blood sample, I nearly fell unconscious when I saw how much they took. When I was twelve, my dad sponsored a blood donating event, and I felt weak as I squeezed the rubber ball to let my blood out. I felt like melting, and soon, I fainted. The image the mirror reflected was the worst. I've never seen so much blood before. My head started reeling wildly, and I felt so soft. The violent shaking of my hands and lips told me I was going to faint any moment. Soon enough, darkness ate my view.
My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself gazing at the familiar glow-in-the dark creatures that I stuck on my room's ceiling back in the third grade. I was sure that I was home, on my bed, and not in that fucked up restaurant to see Sam get battered anymore. The stars, the sun, the moon, the planets, the spaceships and the aliens were glowing green against the black night.
I curled on my side, and I felt some sort of fabric wrapped around my head as I did. I suddenly remembered what happened to me. The plates, the shards, the fainting- it all made me want to faint all over again.
"So much for a first date, huh?" The startling voice made me gasp. I curled to my other side where the voice came from, although I was pretty sure of who it was who was there.
The luminous moonlight that filtered through my curtains was kissing Sam's face, as if he was its god. His used-to-be neat hair was now shagged but he was still unbearably handsome; his white long-sleeve polo was replaced by my dad's black "Best Dad Ever" sweatshirt, and the sight of him pressing an ice bag against his eye sent a surge of sadness throughout my body.
"How are you feeling? What time is it?" I asked weakly as I forced myself to sit-up straight.
"It's 1 AM. Shouldn't I be asking that question? Well, I'm fine. I told Uncle George about that restaurant, and he's on his way to suing it." Uncle George was Collin's dad and the only lawyer in La Push, making his family maybe the richest one right here. He has lots of clients from all over Washington, but he chose the simple life. Uncle George suing a restaurant wasn't impossible, but the restaurant from a while ago was a different story. It was probably the fanciest and most expensive restaurant any person could eat in, and it was going to close soon. I sneered at the thought.
"Are you sure you're fine?" I was surprised that amidst my weakness, I managed to get out of the bed and sit beside Sam on my couch. I gently took his hands away from his eye, and seeing the big, purple bruise beneath it made me cry.
"Hey, hey. Why are you crying?" He asked me tenderly, brushing the tears away with his thumb.
"You're hurt. You know, this is all your fault! You should have let them keep the reservation fee! It's not the only restaurant on earth, you dope!"
"If only you knew. Their reservation fee costs a hundred twenty dollars. Yeah, I know it's my fault. It's my fault that you were bleeding endlessly too."
"You dead serious?" I gasped. Who cares if I bled a gallon of blood? The important thing was how much he paid. A hundred and twenty dollars were usually worth the meal itself, and so much more.
"Yeah."
"Why'd you do it? There are other cheaper places out there!" He looked me in the eyes, but he had to look away soon because he was coughing. Droplets of blood would spew out of his mouth as he did, and I was tortured. "Only the finest for you." He managed to say in between the coughs. My heart started to beat much faster. "And it's nothing, really."
"Of course it's nothing, Mr. famous commercial model." I wiped the blood with the white night gown that I realized I was wearing just now. He smirked at the comment, and the way he did was irresistible. I threw my arms around him and hugged him as lightly as I could.
"Ow." He moaned. Hearing it automatically sent me jumping off the couch.
"Oops, I'm sorry! Do you have a bruise there too? I'm really sorry!"
"It's okay. Don't stop." He said weakly as he pulled me back beside him.
I looked at his face intently. Other than the bruise under his eye, there was dry blood on his lips. I got the ice bag from his hand and placed it on his eye myself.
"What happened to your lips?" I asked as I traced the line of dried blood with my fingers.
"They popped when that fat ass punched me. It hurt like hell a while ago." He gritted his teeth. "Could you make it feel better?" He asked with a hint of mischief in his eyes, making my heart race even faster.
"I'll try." I laughed nervously. This was it, my first kiss. I tilted my head to one side, closed my eyes and leaned closer. What if Seth or my mom or my dad would barge in? I shuddered at the thought and pulled myself away.
"What's wrong?"
"They might see us."
"None of them wiil." He fished through his back pocket and showed me a neon orange Post It.
Leah,
I'm on a girls' night out with your Aunt Tracy. Seth's sleeping over at Brady's and daddy's still on that business trip 'till tomorrow night. Have fun. Lots and lots of fun. ;)
-Mummzy,
I grunted as I finished reading the note. No wonder she had me at eighteen. If no one was here but Sam, who dressed me up and took care of my wound?
"How did I get into these clothes and how did I stop bleeding?"
"I dressed you up. Don't worry, I swear my eyes were closed. And I tended your wound. I found a first aid kit in your kitchen."
"Wow, you did a pretty good job. I can't believe I stopped bleeding."
"Your mom's...pretty cool with this." He said as he glanced at the note.
"Mm'hmm, though I don't know with my dad."
"I think Uncle Harry can handle it. My mom likes you a lot." At the mention of his mom, my Aunt Tracy, I wondered about his dad. He never mentioned him at all, and so did Aunt Tracy.
"You never talk about your dad."
"Jonathan?"
"Yeah. It's rude calling a parent by his first name, you know."
"He's not really a parent. He's always in Las Vegas, gambling and cheating, that's why mom left him and found another guy. I chose to stay with him, but I hear banging sounds from his room every night. He's probably nailing some hoe. I moved to my mom's, but I had to share a bed with my step sister. One night, I caught her undressing me, so I stayed with Jonathan."
"If you stay with him, then you should call him dad."
"Yeah, but he's barely home, maybe he's home only once a month. I practically own his place. My mother visits me sometimes to keep me company, but I sleep there alone. You know, I could really use someone to be with." His face was in a smug.
"I'll keep you company all night, if you want." I laughed hard.
"Your room's hot." He cut my laughter short.
"Want me to turn the air conditioner on for you?"
"No. I know a more environment-friendly way." I felt his hands slither under mine, sending goose bumps of all sorts around my body. He grasped it, stood up, and led me down the stairs and out of the house. And to think I had no slippers on.
We made our way down the shore, reaching the end of the array of dimly lit houses. He was leading me past trees, into the extreme edge of the beach that maybe no one has ever set foot on.
"Where are we going?"
"Away." He answered vaguely. We stopped running by the time we reached the dead end of the shore—a foot of a cliff. Sam suddenly scooped me into his arms, climbed on top of a column of big rocks that lay from the shore further into the beach itself. Ever so lightly, he placed me on top of one of them with my feet in the cold water.
If the beach was beautiful at sunset, it was a hundred times better at night. The dark sky was full of stars tonight, making the water glisten amazingly. It was a low-tide, the waves weren't too harsh. I closed my eyes, making the salty sea breeze blow through me. Nothing else was audible but the crashing sound of the waves pounding against the shore.
"I've never seen this part of the beach before. It's so serene." I told him breathlessly.
"Never?"
"Never."
"I think you did already." I opened my eyes, and shot him my 'huh?' look.
"This is where Paul threw a rock at you, where I saved you and where you promised me a date. You're sitting on the exact, same spot...like ten years ago, and I sat here." He sank down the rock beside mine, looking at the stars dreamily.
"I sat here the next day, and the next, and the next. I made sure I sat here every day, the same hour I met you, just in case I'd see your face again. I knew I was pretty hopeless, but I was thinking that maybe, you'd be back. I sat here under the scorching sun and the violent storm."
"Look, I'm really sorry, but really, you shouldn't have. I never thought that a six-year-old boy could be that serious. You know, I wish I could turn back the time so I could have stayed with you the whole time you were here." The words that came pouring out of my mouth astounded me. I was saying too much.
"Really? You will? Even if it's damn hot or if your butt's freezing?"
"Yeah. As long as I'm with you." This time, I watched what I said, and I did want him to know that.
"If you stayed here waiting during bad weather, I bet you got sick a lot, didn't you?"
"Yeah, a lot. And you owe me big time for letting me wait that long."
"I'm sorry. I'm really, really, really, really sorry. How could I ever pay you back?"
"I don't know...but maybe this will do." At the same second he finished talking, he kicked the cold water, making it splash against my face.
"Hey! That's a foul!" I playfully kicked him off his rock, and he fell into the beach, sending a lot of sparkly water splashing in the air.
"I just wet your face and you kick me into the water? That's the foul. You better play fair, Clearwater." He grabbed my feet and instantly pulled me into the freezing water, sending a scream out of my mouth. I was wet, every part of me was wet—my body, my clothes, my hair.
He was laughing hysterically, like he has never been so happy before. I copied his deep laugh mockingly, giving my best at laughing in my voice's lowest pitch. It was his turn to take revenge. He splattered a handful of salty water on my face, and it directly hit my eyes. I was blind, and the more I tried not to be, the more it would feel like the salty water was feeding on my eyes.
"Hey! That hurt!" I shouted, but he never spoke.
"Sam?" Other than the waves, there was nothing.
"Sam?" I moved around, the waves staggered me backwards each time it went through me. I extended my arms to feel him nearby, but after a few seconds of reaching out, there was nothing to touch.
"Samuel Uley!" I growled, my voice echoed through the cliffs. Before another set of waves could even wash through me again, I made use of my time by walking deeper into the beach to look for him. From what my ears could hear, there was another one coming in.
A pair of hands slithered on my waist, lifting me a couple of steps away from the deepening depth of the beach. The dryness of my eyes subsided, and I could open it once again. I turned around and punched Sam's biceps.
"Don't ever do that again, you jerk! I thought I lost you! Do you know that I don't effing know the way home? I don't even know how to swim! If I die, you will pay for my funeral, you—" He held me so close against him, and before I even knew what was happening, his mouth was crushing violently against mine although his lips were so soft. I felt so light, like I didn't weigh anything. There was a roller coaster somewhere in my stomach, my heart was hammering like hell and I could tell that my whole body was cold. Honestly, I felt like peeing, but that would certainly have to wait.
I closed my eyes, clutched his face tightly, and crushed my mouth against his again, and again, and again. It couldn't get better, but I was wrong.
His lips forced mine open, and soon he was exploring my mouth. His cinnamon breath fanned around it, as if I were really eating cinnamons. Then, it was my turn. I don't know how long it went on.
Sadly, he pulled away and gasped wildly for air. I did too, with our chests violently rising and falling.
"You'll never lose me." I wondered what the heck he was talking about, and then I suddenly remembered that I told him how I was afraid of losing him a while ago. I know it was just moments ago, but it felt like it was years.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Because if I'll lose you, I'm as good as a corpse at the bottom of the sea."
"Same here. Sorry if the kiss was sudden. You're just so stunning when you're mad."
"Did I ever tell you that you look good in black?"
"I'm always in black.
"I know. That's why you always look good."
"Did I ever tell you that I love you more than anything else?" He asked as he took me in one of his divine embraces. I was melting inside it.
"You do?"
"Hell yeah."
"Did I ever tell you that I love you too?"
"No, but you just did. Wanna bet I love you more?"
"Really now."
"I'll show you."
He got a firm hold on my chin, tucked it up and kissed me again.