BreeTico – It's definitely always awkward when two people aren't on the same page. It definitely sucks to be the one that thinks that there is something more when there really isn't. And I feel so bad for her, too. Withdrawals would absolutely be awful. I know the frustration of not being able to write or read for a long time, but that's nowhere near withdrawals (I imagine.) And you know I'll update soon! I've been on a roll with these chapters to the point where I've had them written for a week, just waiting to be uploaded. (;
supernatural94 – Why, thank you very much. (:
AwesomeSauce220 – Thanks for the suggestion. It hasn't really gotten to the point where Emily has needed to have a conversation with her mother. Besides, all of Emily's conversations with her mom would be lies on Emily's side. Anyway, as I've said, there hasn't really been a need for her to speak to her mother quite yet, but it is coming up. Thanks for the review (:
Complete Chocoholic – I really liked the last sentence, too! I'm a sucker for good lines at the endings, even if it is just a chapter ending, and I absolutely love cliffhangers. I'm glad you like the longer chapters (as do I) because I've been trying to extend chapter numbers without making them overwhelming. Thank you so much for the praise, it really means a lot! And, thank you for being a faithful reader (and reviewer, tee-hee)! (;
The Significance Series belongs to Shelly Crane.
5: Do You Believe Me Now?
I was jerked awake by someone shaking my shoulder. Honestly, it hurt a lot more than it should have. I gasped as my eyes flew open, taking in the feverish feel of my skin and the pain curling in my stomach like a panther waiting to leap. I looked up into the soft, dark brown eyes of Xavier. Apparently, I had been able to fall asleep and numb the pain, if only for a short while. But now, the moment that consciousness had come back to me, it was like I'd been hit by a train.
Xavier pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, drawing away to sign, "You're burning up. Are you feeling sick?"
I figured that it was obvious. I thought about just lashing out at him, snapping an answer that would make him think that I had also tapped into a darker, more vicious side of me. Instead, I settled for a sleepy nod that rattled my brain in my skull. I let my eyelids droop, thinking that maybe he would just let me get some sleep. Instead, though, I felt his arms tuck under me before I was lifted up to his chest. Despite the fact that I felt like my skin was slowly bubbling off my bones, I liked the feeling of being cradled against someone else. But there was also a zing of pain that said I was doing something wrong. I tried to shake it off. It wouldn't last forever, anyway. Xavier certainly wasn't very strong enough to carry me very far – that was evident by his slightly halting, obviously quickened step as he led me straight to the front door. He only managed to carry me across the floor of the shop to the door before setting me down on my feet.
He pushed open the door for me, taking a hold of my hand as he gingerly led me out into the night sky. I liked the city at night. Even though it was dark outside, the city came alive with lights and people that had decided that they'd rather be out clubbing and partying instead of sleeping. I had never really been one that floated around in those crowds, but sometimes I wished I could be. At least they got a change of scenery every now and then.
Xavier led me directly to his run down car, opening the front door for me. I slipped into the passenger seat, and he checked to make sure that my arms and legs were inside before slamming the door behind me. The entire car shook with the impact of the door against its frame. Xavier turned around and retrieved the keys from his pocket, locking up shop before turning and coming towards me and the car. He slid into the driver's seat and drove me home.
We never really talked on our rides. How could we? I couldn't hear what he was saying, and he had to look at me when I was reading lips. He couldn't take his hands off of the wheel to sign to me. So instead we stayed in perpetual silence that wasn't really all that bad. Xavier turned up whatever music he was listening to, sometimes so loudly that it would have erased normal conversation completely. The only way I knew was by the distinct shutter of the car's entire frame as the radio blasted.
Within ten minutes, Xavier pulled up in front of my house. I grabbed my purse that he had thrown onto the floorboards. My entire body creaked like I'd suddenly aged eighty years as I pushed open the door and crawled out. He opened his own door and came around the front. I forced myself to unzip my purse and pull out my keys. Even my fingers hurt. I tried my best to look like I wasn't feeling like I was falling apart, but Xavier could tell that I felt sicker than just a fever.
"You okay?" He signed to me as we took the steps up the front of my house. The house was two stories, though the second floor was nearly entirely mine. The staircase led up to a short hallway with two doors – one that led to my bedroom which had its own bathroom; the other was an attic. It would suck to get up the stairs, but once I was in my room my mom would probably leave me alone. Ever since I'd gotten my high school diploma, she had gotten a little less involved in my life. I think she was just scared that if she didn't back off a little bit, I would leave her. And she thought that I wouldn't be able to handle life without her.
"I've got the flu or something." I told him, knowing full well that the flu wasn't really what was raging through me. Derek hadn't been lying to me. He'd told me I'd have these withdrawals where the only cure was to touch him. If he wasn't lying about the way I felt, the visions I saw, and the withdrawals that were raging through me… then what was he lying about? Was it possible that he was telling me the complete and total truth?
Yes, it was totally possible.
"Do you need anything?" Xavier motioned to me as I turned to look on him on my front stoop.
I shook my head. "I'll take an aspirin, and I'll be fine." I told him tiredly. I put my key in the lock and twisted it sharply. I paused to look up at him before going into the house, forcing a small smile to him. But he wasn't going to let me just go. He reached out and grabbed a hold of my wrist, drawing me closer to him.
As I stood there, wrapped up in Xavier's arms, I realized that there had been a point in time when I would have been perfectly happy where I was. There used to be a point where having Xavier look at me like he was would make my heart pound. And it did bang against the inside of my chest, but it was in a different way. This time, I wanted him to let me go, to not hold me so close. Just allowing him in my personal space made me feel like I was doing something horribly wrong. And, the more I thought about, I started to think about Derek. He had said that the imprint meant that I was his and he was mine. Was that why I was feeling like having my best friend too close to me meant that I was cheating on the guy that I'd just met?
I pulled away as gently as I could while also trying to distance myself from him. He seemed like he knew that I was trying to separate us, but he also seemed like he wasn't bothered by it. I gave him a smile as he leaned forward. Panicked for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. But his lips just gently touched my cheek, though I still felt the roiling in my stomach that told me that even that was wrong.
Xavier leaned forward and covered my hand with his on the doorknob, twisting it open. I stepped inside, turning to look at him. "Thanks, Xavier." I told him quietly, "I'll talk to you later." He nodded and I closed the door behind me, lingering at the window to make sure that he got to his car and down the street okay. I leaned against the glass and waited until his car rolled away from the curb.
With a heavy sigh, I let out a groan. Leaning against the wall, I tucked my keys into my purse and headed for the stairwell. It hurt my back and my knees to take the stairs but I did, slowly. Once I reached the top I turned to my bedroom and pushed open the door. I loved my bedroom. My mom had really gone out of her way to make it really pretty. Decorated in chocolate brown and baby blue, it was feminine and cute but mature.
Kicking off my shoes, I collapsed onto my bed, a little too tired to even shrug out of my jeans and into my pajama shorts. Almost too tired to move, I reached for my cell phone and dug around for the folded up piece of paper that Derek had given me. At the bottom, his number was printed clearly. I slowly opened up a new contact form, typing in Derek at the name, skipping over his home number. I typed in his cell phone number slowly and deliberately, ignoring the open fields for his email and home address.
Once that was complete, I lay back on my pillow and stared at it. It offered me the chance to tag his contact with a picture. I didn't have a picture of Derek, but I found myself wishing that I did. After a moment of just staring at his number – part of it was already committed to my memory, as embarrassing as it was – before clicking off of it and opening a new text message. I selected his name from my list of contacts. Usually, I would have pondered over what to say to him. But this time, I was so tired that I didn't even care. IT'S ME. YOU WERE RIGHT. I pressed send before I could second guess myself.
I closed my eyes, only realizing after a little while that I hadn't taken any aspirin. Honestly, I doubted that it would do anything to help me. Derek had told me that they were withdrawals from him. There wasn't really anything physically ailing me. With a groan I rolled over only to feel my phone vibrating on the bed. Reaching over the pick it up, I squinted at the bright screen. Derek had texted me back.
Was it so weird of me to be completely pleased by the fact? My heartbeat picked up its pace and I found myself smiling despite the fact that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. Opening the text message, I read, DOES THAT MEAN YOU BELIEVE ME, MS. EMILY?
I laughed despite the fact that his sarcasm really wasn't helping me. At least I knew that he had a personality more like mine. He was willing to laugh over things that pained him, assuming that he was feeling the same things I was. I hit reply and wrote, I GUESS I BELIEVE YOU BY DEFAULT. I'M DYING HERE. I chewed on my lip over the last sentence. Would that really be the right way to let him know that yes, I was feeling like I was being ripped to shreds? Eventually, I just shrugged and pressed send. I was a blunt person, as I was starting to believe that he was, too.
His text came back in record time. I'LL COME SEE YOU. ADDRESS?
THIS DOES NOT GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO STALK ME. I sent back. I debated sending him my address. But honestly, it wouldn't be that hard to find me if he did some sleuthing. According to him, my heartbeat allowed him to know exactly where I was. And it wasn't too hard to look up Bryson in the phonebook. After another second's deliberation, I sent him another message with my address attached.
It only took a little while for him to text me back. IS YOUR MOM HOME? I'M OUTSIDE. I nearly bolted out of my bed to see him. I was feeling sick to my stomach, like I was going to puke. But I knew he was on the other side of that door, and he promised me peace and comfort. I hobbled out of my bed and nearly skidded down the stairs, tripping over my own feet.
I reached the door and quickly undid the locks. Only after I had them undone did I pause to think about what I was doing. I was opening my door to a relative stranger. I had told him where I lived. I had given him my phone number. But, according to him and the pain that I was in, he wasn't lying to me. He was my soul mate, and apparently we were stuck together for the rest of our lives. So I guess it didn't really matter anymore. I needed to stop overthinking things and just go with it.
Opening up the door, I barely had time to register him on the front stoop before he stepped over the threshold, his hands cupping my face. The withdrawals that I was feeling slipped away, and I knew I sighed. By the way that his shoulders shrugged at about the same time, I would venture a guess that he had sighed, too. His eyes were glowing despite the dim light in the room. He took a step back, releasing his hold on me.
For a second, I was confused, and slightly embarrassed. I mean, I was wearing the vintage band T-shirt that I wore to work and a pair of pajama shorts that were soft baby pink with little penguins on them. He lifted up his hands in front of him and slowly started signing something to me, as if he was trying to remember. I felt a smile cross my face as he did so. Xavier was the only person I knew who had taken the initiative to learn sign language so he could speak to me more easily. I'd known Derek for a few hours and he was already doing the same. That had to mean something, right?
Derek was trying to say, "Hi, it's nice to see you again." His motions were a little jerky, like a new beginner's always were. I found myself laughing, and he looked up with a smile on his face. He wasn't at all bothered by the fact that I was laughing at his inability to sign something that simple to me. He thought it was just as funny as I did. Reaching forward, I took a hold of his hands and folded his fingers down, helping him follow through with the motion.
"Nice try," I said to him. He grinned at me a little ruefully, like he wished that he could have just picked up an entire language in just a few hours. But he also seemed a little amused, like he should've guessed, and that it was, in fact, pretty funny. I didn't let go of his hand, and instead held onto his a little tighter. "It's okay. It's always a little hard at first. You'd be surprised how long it took me to pick it up. And it was sort of needed on my part." I flashed him a smile that I hoped he took as reassuring.
I reached out to the nearby hall closet and pulled it open, marveling over the fact that muscles that had been sore moments before felt just fine. My fever was gone, as was the pounding headache. With just his touch, Derek had cleared up whatever made me feel sick. If that wasn't proof, then I didn't know what was. Opening the door, I reached for a small whiteboard and dug into a box of dry erase markers. Handing them and a small, marker-covered washrag to him, I said, "Here, use these."
He raised them briefly in thanks. I gave him a wide smile and directed him to the living room. My mom wasn't home yet. She was a little more eccentric than her boyfriend, Cal. Cal was extremely nice, but slightly awkward and geeky. He was worse than Xavier, who reveled in his hipster-nerd look. But he was faithful and loyal to my mother, and he did whatever she wanted. My mom had been a partier back in her good old days, and she still partied now, albeit like a middle-aged woman. Instead of clubs, she spent her time at bars that played ESPN on their flatscreens and cheered with old high school friends, or they went to dreamy little restaurants or walks around the park or whatever romantic outing she could think of. I was sure that we had plenty of time to hang out until my mom got back, and even if she did come in through the door, she would let me have my time with Derek. She would be curious, of course, but she wouldn't make me kick him out unless it was well into the wee hours of the morning.
I motioned for Derek to take a seat. "Do you want anything to drink?" I asked. He shook his head as he sat down on the couch. I wanted to sit down right next to him, but that was a little ridiculous. I understood the reason for us needing to be close enough to touch, but I didn't want to invade his space. Granted, there was a good chance that he wanted me in his space just as much as I wanted to be in his space, but I wasn't going to test out that theory right away. I chose to sit on the opposite end of the couch, leaning against the arm as I faced him, my knees drawn up to my chest.
We sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. I wondered if it was awkward for him, or if it just was to me. I was used to silence. But I couldn't imagine what it was like to just sit there and listen to him breathe in and out. Interestingly enough, I actually longed for it. If only I could hear his breathing, or his sigh, or his voice when he spoke to me.
Finally, I decided to just let him know exactly what was on my mind. I cleared my throat, and his eyes locked in on mine. I nearly faltered on my words, but I managed to speak. "This is really… it's really insane." I told him. The corners of his lips quirked up into a slight smile, but I could tell that he was wondering if I was about to send him on his way. "It's so freaking insane," I repeated, leaning back in my seat. "I'm sort of all over the place, you know. Eccentric and rational at the same time. Two pieces that shouldn't fit together but do." I wondered if I was telling him too much, but decided that it didn't matter anyway. "I'm sort of a hopeless romantic, you know. I've always dreamed that I was some princess just waiting to be found by her prince, that one day I could just be swept off my feet and carried to a castle where we would live happily ever after and I would be able to hear again and…." I let my voice trail off, shaking my head. It was stupid for me to tell him that. For one, it would make me seem spoiled, like I expected to be taken care of. But secondly, it was just sort of embarrassing. I was sure that he didn't want to hear everything that I had ever thought.
Derek bent over the whiteboard I gave him. He scribbled something across the board and then handed it to me. I took it with both hands and looked over his note. Derek's handwriting was a little stout, the letters wider than they were tall. The majority of them were in capital letters, too. You weren't born deaf?
I shook my head, handing the board back to him. "No, I was perfectly fine until I was eleven. I was in a go-kart accident. It turns out that I'm not as good as a driver as I thought." I told him, giving him a slight smile. At first, right after my accident, I didn't want to talk about it. I felt stupid about the whole thing. It was my fault for thinking that I could drive the thing, and I knew that Bailey and I weren't supposed to be messing with it anyway. Back then, I'd thought that the rules didn't apply to me. I certainly learned my lesson. As the years wore on, though, I got more comfortable talking about the event that had taken my hearing from me. I gave a little shrug and added, "They're not really sure what I did to my ears to make them stop working altogether. I mean, I've had so many tests and scans and everything else that they could do, but nothing ever showed up. My mom used to say that it must've been a twist of fate and that I'm supposed to learn something from it." I told him. My mom was a big believer in destiny and fate and the principle that every single person had a path that they were supposed to follow. I'd always been a little opposite, saying that we could make our own roads if we tried hard enough.
Derek grinned, wiping off the board with the washrag. He poised the marker over it for a second before his eyes darted to me. He lifted the board a little more so I couldn't see what he was writing before scribbling something down. Holding it out to me, his smile was so broad that it would probably be safe to say that he was grinning from ear to ear. I think I'd like to meet your mom one day. Aces are really into fate and destiny.
I handed the board back once I read it. "Are they? I mean, how do they explain tragedies and stuff? Like, those things are supposed to happen? Why can't I just make my decision and move on with my life?" I asked. I was starting to wonder if debating deep thoughts like this was proper etiquette on a first date. And then I stopped myself, because this wasn't really a date, was it?
I read Derek's message. Fate is decided for us because we can't control the way the universe works. And honestly, if you think about it, your decisions lead you to fate. It's sort of like you're predestined to make decisions. Like me, for one. I knew that I shouldn't have gone back to the store just to see if I could talk to you, but I did, and it led me to meet you.
"You went back to the store just to talk to me?" I asked. I probably should have paid a little more attention to our conversation about fate and destiny, but I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that a guy like Derek – aloof, handsome, obviously out of a deaf girl's league – would come around to try to talk to me. It was… mind-blowing, I guess.
Yeah, the board read in his blocky handwriting, I wanted to see you. You see, sometimes people think that these imprints are the only reason people stay together. But that's not the truth at all. People that have imprints are the only people that I've really seen that are truly in love. And the imprints choose them because they know that the people are meant for each other. Before I even touched you, you caught my eye.
I spouted out a laugh. "I caught your eye? Are you blind?" I asked, leaning forward a little bit as if I were thoroughly checking his eyes. I knew that I was pretty, but I wasn't a bombshell, I wasn't gorgeous, I wasn't a model. I was just… me. Nothing perfect, nothing flawless. In fact, I was far from flawless. I had a disability for Christ's sake.
But I knew what he meant. Attraction. I'd felt it for him the moment he'd stepped in that door. If he'd felt the same thing for me… well, I guess it was a sealed deal then. Even if Derek's immediate attraction to me was a fraction of whatever I'd felt for him, I'd still be pretty satisfied. It had been such a strong emotion, after all.
I'd only meant to tease him. And I was pretty sure that I'd succeeded with that. But in my efforts to make him smile, I'd put myself closer to him. I was only leaning towards him, so there was still an entire couch cushion in between us, but that didn't stop me from wanting to scoot closer to him. I was still having a little trouble wrapping my brain around it all. I mean, I understood what it was and what had technically happened, I just never would have thought that anything like it would happen to me. And honestly, it was sort of like a saving grace. But that didn't mean that I was still iffy about some things. Like what did this mean for us? I barely knew him, but I wanted to cuddle into his side. I wanted the warmth and protection that he wordlessly promised me.
Derek looked like he was sort of thinking the same thing. I was aware of the fact that he was sort of leaning a little closer to me, too. It reminded me of the time that I'd once thought of ourselves as two separate magnets. I had wondered then if it was the sort of gravitational pull that could easily be ignored. I was starting to think that it was the kind that took steel vices to pull apart.
I found myself wanting a kiss from him. It was sort of a ridiculous notion. How could I hope that someone like Derek would kiss me after only a few hours of knowing each other? It didn't matter how much I wanted it. I was still debating about pulling away from him when the front door swung open. I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye and sat back as quickly as I could. I didn't miss the fact that Derek did the same. My mom stepped into the room, looking down at her keys. Her purse hung on the crook of her arm as she turned and lifted a hand in goodbye to Cal.
I swallowed hard and looked over at Derek. He said that he wanted me to meet his family. He said that they would be able to help me with this. But I wasn't so sure if I wanted him to meet my mom. What was I going to say to her? Hi, mom, this is Derek. I just met him earlier today. He's my imprinted soul mate, which means that even though I don't really know him all that well, I'm supposed to be with him forever. Yeah, no. That definitely wouldn't work. But I guess she had to meet him at some point. If we were supposed to be together forever, then he was going to have to meet my mom. And it might be better to ease her into the fact that Derek was hanging around.
She looked up, her matte-painted lips curving into an O as she took in the scene in front of her. Her eyes shot between the two of us, and I suddenly knew that she knew that Derek and I had been closer only moments before. I was sure that we weren't helping by secluding ourselves to opposite ends of the couch like the other had cooties. She narrowed her eyes at us for a moment, her brown eyeliner making her eyes look darker and definitely a little scarier. I bit my lip and sucked in a breath. Derek's eyes slid to me, and I was reminded of the fact that he could apparently feel when I was anxious or scared. I wasn't sure what I was feeling yet.
The back of the couch was to the front door, where my mom still stood. She tried for a small smile. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. But I didn't have the chance to try and figure it out because Derek slowly reached forward, his arm barely moving as his fingers brushed over my jeaned leg. Instantly, I reached out to grab his hand, feeling the cool calmness rush through me. I was sure that I was blushing, my neck and cheeks burning, but I stood up, letting my fingers stay in his grasp for as long as I could.
"Hi, mom," I said as pleasantly as I could muster. I was also shooting for innocence. I had never really gotten in trouble all that much. I mean, before my accident I'd gotten into plenty of trouble. But ever since then, I've been the good kid, the one that never caused problems. I'd never been caught doing anything illegal – heck, I never did anything illegal – and I was the perfect example of a good student and hard worker. I plastered a smile onto my face and said, "Did you have a nice night with Cal?"
She eyed me for a second before her gaze slid to Derek. Unlike Xavier, my mom usually spoke and signed at the same time. But this time her lips stayed glued shut in a line as she moved her hands. Derek leaned against the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder. I knew that he couldn't understand what she was technically saying. The fact that she wasn't speaking meant that she wasn't too pleased with the fact that I had a random guy sitting on the couch. "Who is he?" She asked me. "It's late, Emily."
I glanced over my shoulder. As if he could sense that I needed a little bit of encouragement, Derek gave me a dazzling smile. It was so warm that I was sure my mom could feel it, too. She glanced over at him as I gave a slight half-smile back. Turning to face her, I signed, "He's my friend. We were just hanging out." I turned to face him and took a hold of his shoulder. He stood up fluently, and my mom eyed him. Sitting down, Derek was pretty unassuming. I mean, he made a statement with his choice of clothes and hairstyle, but he didn't look like a towering, slightly broad man. But when he stood up, it was obvious that he was at least half a foot taller than me, if not more, and I could probably put two of me, side-by-side, to make up for the line of his shoulders.
"Mom," I said out loud, "this is my friend, Derek Stanton. Derek, this is my mom, Amy Bryson." She looked over at me for a split second before giving Derek one of the biggest smiles that I'd ever seen cross her face. She was obviously a little nervous, definitely wondering how I'd met him and why he was in our house at – I checked the hall clock – one in the morning, and why she was just now hearing about him. But she was pleased to meet someone else, because she thought that I didn't have enough friends as it was.
Derek held out his hand. I glanced at him to read his lips – "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bryson."
Mom reached out and took his hand. I was aware of the fact that Derek had large hands. It probably made for easy playing on his guitar; he didn't have to stretch his fingers so far to reach chords. It also made me feel like he could handle things. Manly things, I guess. Like, I could easily picture him fixing a roof on a house or building or boat or something that was just testosterone-ridden. Preferably with his shirt off. I bit my lip at the thought and tried my best to squelch it. My mom's hand was much smaller as they shook. "It's actually just Ms." She told him.
Derek looked down at me a little sheepishly. "My apologies," he replied. My mom waved her hand at his words, and glanced at the hall clock next to me. She gave me a look that said it was getting late, and though she was obviously impressed with him – I could see it in her eyes and the relaxed set of her shoulders – she thought it was way too late for him to be over at the house. As if he could read her mind, Derek glanced down at the cell phone he pulled from his pocket. "It's pretty late. I should be heading home. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Bryson."
"I'll walk you out," I said, instinctively looping my hand over his slightly bent elbow. My mom looked in between us as if the movement meant the world to her. She said her goodbyes as I led Derek to the front door. I pulled it open and stepped out onto the front stoop. The light overhead was a little dim and dirty, little bugs flying around it and casting shadows on the door. Derek stepped towards the stairs and I followed, closing the door behind me.
I realized then that he was still carrying around the small whiteboard I'd given him, as well as the marker. The washrag was hanging out of his front pocket. He bit the cap off of the marker and scribbled down a note, handing it over to me. I took the whiteboard from his hands and turned it around so I could get a better look at it. Remember that locked feeling you got earlier? Well, it's going to happen again. It lasts for a while. We just have to release each other, to let the other know that we're coming back. And I'll need to see you first thing in the morning. You'll have withdrawals again. And we need to meet my family tomorrow.
"Tomorrow?" I asked out loud as I reached over and pulled the washrag from his front pocket. I quickly wiped the note away and Derek nodded, apparently choosing to not explain it to me. I really did want to know, but I didn't think it mattered all that much. He had been pretty honest and nice to me so far, and he wasn't lying about the withdrawals, the locked feeling, the calm he gave me, or the intense interest in him. If he wasn't lying to me about that, what could he possibly be hiding from me?
He formed his words very carefully. "I'll see you tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Go inside and get some sleep, okay?" I nodded, and he reached out. His fingers brushed underneath my chin, giving me one last dose of his peace. I thought that was going to be it, but he leaned forward a little bit. I was unable to lie to myself and say that I didn't sort of want for it. But like I'd been feeling all night, there was a part of me that said no. Instead of kissing me though, his lips pressed gently against my cheek before he let go of me and headed down the front steps. I found myself looking for a car, but that was when I realized that he'd parked a sleek black and silver motorcycle in front of my house. I had to admit that it was totally hot. He flung a leg over, gave me a quick salute, and kick-jumped it. Within seconds, he was down the road, and I was still glued to my front porch, watching him leave and wishing that I could just run after him.
I sighed and turned back to the door, knowing that when I went back inside my mother would be waiting for me, and she would have plenty of questions to ask.
What do you think? This was a little bit of chapter fluff, but it was sort of necessary – Derek needed to meet Emily's mom, and I figured it would be a good chance for him to learn a few things about her.
Anyway, please leave me a review in the box below. And thank you for your continued support. Peace. (: