Chapter 4 - kiss me deeper

NOAH

I walked down the stairs, one bit at a time. Mother and Mr Hawthorne were downstairs already, but not even Mother's splinted eyes could keep my eyes in place as they were planted on Max's.

He wore a blue tuxedo suit over a white shirt; the buttons were opened from collar to his chest, and his hair was a tousled mass of midnight black.

I stared, but he stared harder. After what happened this morning, I would be a fool to think he was swooning in his head over me.

Climbing down the rest of the stairs, I walked past him but not before dropping a comment I was sure he heard.

“Why don't you take a picture?” I said, referring to myself. If he saw me as daunting, then he might as well take a picture of me and save it to feed his eyes in the future.

Max drove in his car while I was stuck with my parents in their car as they talked about themselves and were acting overly romantic.

I texted Evans the third time that day, telling him to call me when he got free; in minutes, he responded that he would soon.

And this was how it was; he was always busy and had little time for us to hang around, and I was overlooking everything and still loving him the same.

We got on the boat, and hopefully, I didn't throw up, but I was in for a bigger kind of shock if I thought water was my greatest enemy.

We sat at a table overlooking the waters, which glistened like shattered crystals under the illumination of the light. I could see the star mirror itself in the waters, the blue of the sky casting an unimaginable hue in the sky.

When Mr Hawthorne wasn't looking, Mother stared hard at me; she disapproved of my outfit tonight.

We had gone shopping after school, and rather than pick out my dinner wear from my latest collection, I had gone for an old t-shirt, a host, and a pair of heeled boots. 

I had stripped a belt around my mid-belly so as to accentuate my figure and wore my hair in long strands, but Mother had outdone herself.

She had gotten a spa done, clipped her hair high above her neck and was wearing a fancy dinner gown.

What a contrast between mother and daughter….

A notification popped up on my phone, and I picked it up to see who was texting, but rather than messages, there were pictures from an unknown.

I opened it to find my best friend wrapped around my boyfriend; they were in a comfy style and in matching outfits.

What was that supposed to mean? I had barely been gone a month.

That snitch, Natasha. No wonder I couldn't view their posts anymore.

My face contorted to a deep frown, my teeth clenching hard against each other, and I swivelled right to the next picture, and that was when I felt my heart leave my chest.

They were in a fucking kiss; Evans had never had a kiss that intense with me, just kisses on the forehead and my cheeks.

Where did it all go wrong? I thought.

“Noah, your membership card will arrive by next week. Meanwhile, you can use my surname,” Mr Hawthorne offered when I kept staring at my phone.

“That would be so nice of you, sir,” I responded, faking a smile.

A waitress walked up to us, sliding a note into Max's hand and caressing his finger before leaving. My parents were too deep in a conversation to notice.

But I wasn't interested in their show of love; I was hurt, stark and plain, and I needed to be alone.

“I heard Max is an athlete and a surfing champion,” my mother said, trying to ease off the silence at the table.

“Surfing”, I blurted out in disgust.

“Any problem with that?” Max asks.

“No, I just prefer team and strategic sports, where you have to use your intelligence,” I let out. I sure wasn't going to join my parents in worshipping their dick of a son.

And maybe this was my way of letting out the steam because I felt terrible.

“If you would excuse me, I have some readings to do at Nick's place,” he says, excusing himself from the gathering, and I saw no better time to join the fleet.

“I am leaving too,” I announce as well, but my mum stops me, insisting I stay, but Mr Hawthorne grants me permission, instructing Max to drop me off since we were heading the same way.

I try arguing, but my parents won't have it with me, so I agree with them.

The car swivels left and right on the road, overtaking most of the cars on the road, and I feel my heart skip from time to time, leaving me no room to think about my boyfriend’s betrayal.

I am so pissed; I yell at Max, and we enter a heated argument I wished I never began.

“What is your problem? I don't want to die because of a lunatic who can’t drive,” I spoke with venom on my tongue when we almost got hit by a car.

“You think you could do better?” he challenged, not feeling remorseful.

“Wanna bet?”

“Your mom must love you a lot to put up with you,” he says, and I am enraged. What does he know about my mother? His words crush my insides, reminding me of all those times I yearned for her but she was miles from me.

“What would you know about a mother's love?” I replied nonchalantly without checking the meaning of my words.

He brings the car to a halt instantly and tells me to get down in the middle of the road, seeing his anger radiate on his face. I agree, and he drives off.

I was too harsh, I noticed; taunting him about his family wasn't very nice, but that wasn't enough to leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere.

My service was out, and I couldn't call a taxi. Now I was stuck.

I walk for some while before a car drives forward; even though I stood on the road and swung it down, it didn't stop.

“Fine, don't stop; I bet you're a serial killer." I cursed at the driver, and the car immediately came to a halt a few steps ahead of me. He had obviously heard me.

He reverses back to where I am standing and gives me a lift.

He tells me of a party he's to attend, and I decide to join him, obviously because I hear Max was going there.

We get there, and I decide to have a payback at my boyfriend. It was a pool party, and everyone was in little less than clothes. A gang gets together with my doted-on stepbrother, who was the leader of a car racing gang.

From afar, I could see him kissing not one girl, but the next and the one after her, and then he is drinking tequila from the cleavage of one other girl.

Irritated and pissed, I look around for something to take my mind off the moment.

A waiter passes with a tray laid with wine, and I pick one and move over to the side. Max spots me and comes over. I use the opportunity to strike him hard on the nose as blood drips down his nose.

He smiles, brings my body close and presses it to his, before taking my lip in his; this time I didn't want to fight it because I had little to lose, but why did he taste so nice?

He brings his head up again and whispers to me.

“Tongue”, he insisted on

“Okay”, I responded.

And he takes my lips again, our tongues melting against each other and sensation curling beneath my toes.

The next moment, I hear the sound of a click, and it's coming from my phone in Max's hand. He takes another selfie of us kissing before handing the phone over.

“And now you have something to send to your supposed perfect boyfriend,” he murmurs in my ear before leaving.

And there I stood, nonplussed and weak to my toes. He had known right from the onset about

 Evans, but how the hell had he known about his betrayal?

I hadn't told him unless…. I started putting two and two together, and there it stood right in front of me, the truth I was too blind to see and the detail I had missed.