Page 6 of Under the Texas Sky
Oh right, that.
So, yes. I followed him after school to the park, and I’ve spent thirty minutes walking in circles out of his line of sight, building the courage to talk to him. Toactuallytalk to him. Not the fumbling mess that always comes out of my mouth when he asks me a question about a lab experiment, and I have no idea what’s going on because I was too busy staring at his side profile and wondering how someone could be so… pretty. Pretty isn’t a good enough word, but no word ever would be when it comes to Trent.
“Are you going to keep walking in circles or?”
I freeze, and my stomach clenches in panic. Can he see me? He can see me. Great. This isn’t going to be awkward at all.
I pull up my big boy pants and walk toward him, staring down at my feet the whole time and watching the rocks disappear under the soles of my shoes.
“Hey,” I mumble when I reach the side of the car. It’s a nice one, black and not run down, and I wonder if he bought it himself. He works a lot down at the grocery store. Not that I’m stalking him or anything, but I just need a snack every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Between 4:15 PM and 8:30 PM. But never at 6:30, because that’s when he takes a break.
Okay, maybe I am a little psycho.
“What’s up?” His eyes crack open, and I’m graced with brown irises, rich like melted chocolate.
I must be drunk on the half-lidded look he gives me, because the next words out of my mouth come easily.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Beautiful, huh? Can boys be beautiful?” His smile is wide, showing off white teeth and a small gap between the top two.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully, because I’ve never looked at another boy. I’ve never thought of another boy the way I do Trent. Wondering what his lips would feel like pressed against mine, how I can see the vein in his neck pumping blood every time he tilts his head to the side when he doesn’t understand something. His berry-colored lips, chapped on the bottom right side, because that’s the side he always nibbles on when he’s thinking.
Trent makes a noise in the back of his throat, not one I’ve heard from him before, and then he’s sitting up on the car. Staring at me, his eyes reaching into the depths of me and trying to pull out all the words I can’t say. “I think you’re beautiful too.”
My cheeks flame red, and there’s no way he doesn’t see. I probably look like a cherub staring at him with hearts in my eyes.He thinks I’m beautiful?I don’t need to look down at my body to know what he’s seeing. Scrawny, barely there muscles that only come from the forced sports activities at school. Brown curly hair that can’t be tamed no matter how much gel I put in it. I’m… average.
But there’s something about the way he says it. The way his lips form the words and speak them into the air has me believing that maybe, just maybe, he is telling the truth.
CHAPTER 6
KIAN
Trent follows me to the rocking chair and waits for me to sit before he sits himself down on the hard porch in front of me, using the front of my legs as a back rest. He tilts his head back, and I comb my fingers through his hair, scratching my nails against his scalp and feeling the resounding shudder through his body.
Mitch is busy telling us about all the new neighborhood drama, the shit-stirrer that he is. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on the concrete so hot I can see the rays. My stomach grumbles, announcing its displeasure very loudly and making Mitch and Trent chuckle. They know how I get when I haven't eaten, so Mitch invites us inside for food.
Two sandwiches and a bag of family-sized chips later, I know I should leave. I don’t need to be here while Trent is getting settled in. He knows Mitch as well as I do, and I know he’ll be taken care of. At the same time, I hate leaving him without him. It feels unnatural.
I can’t be there to stroke his hair and make sure he’s okay. And who’s going to hum my favorite songs to me while I struggle to fall asleep? Maybe I could call him anyway; I didn’t say we couldn’t talk. I told him I didn't want to find him dead, which was harsh of me. I've never spoken to Trent that way.Ever. But I couldn’t take it anymore. He promised me he would be backthough. He asked me to wait for him. So I can be patient. I'm not expecting immediate changes in his behavior.
We can weather any storm put in front of us, and I have to believe that now more than ever.
“I’m leaving. Do you need anything before I go?” I ask Trent as he unpacks his bag in Mitch’s spare room. He looks up from his minuscule amount of belongings, and I feel terrible all over again. I’ll have to bring him more clothes tomorrow. And his journal, as I don't see it in his bag.
“Kiss me, Ki?” His hopeful expression warms my stomach, and I can't tell him no. Not when his berry-colored lips are being offered on a platter for me to take.
I cross the bedroom to him, squatting down until we’re eye level. His brown eyes to my green, straight hair to my curly. So different in looks, but what does it matter if our souls are what tether us together?
I press my lips to his, softly at first. Feeling the pressure of his mouth against mine and letting the feeling of coming home cocoon me. His lips move, pressing the slight space between them against my cupid's bow, then traveling down to the bottom part of my lip. Placing soft angel kisses all over the sensitive flesh. I could kiss him for hours and never be tired of it.
He pulls back first, his lips ghosting across mine as we share the same breath. “Do you remember when we went to the beach?”
How could I forget? It was one of the happiest times we’ve had together. Two years ago, for our 21st birthday, we decided we were going to drive six hours down to Galveston Beach. Swimming in the ocean, letting the waves knock us under, and then standing back up just for them to do it again. Building sandcastles and getting sand in our every crack and crevice. We had sand in our clothes for months after that.
The pier, where we sat and people watched, and no one paid attention to the two young men holding hands and feeding each other peanut butter sandwiches because we couldn’t afford the expensive food on the pier.
“You thought it would be a good idea to try and catch a crab.” I chuckle at the memory of Trent trying too hard. He picked one up, but it immediately pinched him and he dropped it, claiming to never want to come to the beach again.
