——

  I’m back at my student apartment that I share with Holly. She doesn’t stop grilling me even when we’re in our pyjamas, ready to hit the bed.

  “I cannot believe Roman Johnson wants to get in your panties -“

  “Oh my God!” I scowl, brushing my teeth. I throw a stray scrunch her way. She dodges, smiling with a giddiness I see in misbehaving kids. “Can you not!”

  “What else do you call that!”

  “It’s called awkwardly bumping into an old classmate that you don’t particularly like. That’s what I’ll call that.”

  She reaches my side, hand on her hip. “Liar. I’ve bumped into plenty of old classmates and none of them have stared at me like I’m a full course meal.”

  “That’s not what this is.”

  “Then get your deluded head out of your ass and start seeing this for what it actually is. The boy likes you and don’t think I didn’t hear what he whispered to you. ‘The kiss’? Wanna elaborate?” Holly takes the toothbrush out of my hand, leaving me with a mouth full of toothpaste. I spit it out in the sink, rinsing my mouth.

  “He made my life a nightmare, Holly, if you really wanna know. We kissed, yes, but for the past four years in that place, he and his cronies bullied me nearly every single day. Like clockwork, they found me in the morning, before class, ready to humiliate me for no reason. Simply because they didn’t like me. So excuse me,” I grab the towel, dabbing it around my face. “If I don’t want to revisit my past. If I didn’t exactly jump for joy when I saw Roman Johnson again.”

  Holly deflates, her expression falling. “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry, Ken.”

  I wave dismissively. “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.”

  “Clearly it is. If I saw my high school bully again, I would have happily kicked him in the nuts.”

  “Tempting. But I think he had a jockstrap down under there.”

  She snorts. We both head to the kitchen where I make myself and Holly a cup of hot chocolate. She sits on the breakfast stool, her head in her hands. Her face is scrunched up in distaste. “What a douchebag. A hot douchebag, but a douchebag nonetheless.”

  I give her a small smile. “Aren’t most football players?”

  She gives me an affronted look, throwing an old napkin at me. “Hey! Not all football players!”

  “Sorry! Sorry! I forgot about Dale! There are exceptions, I take it back!” I cringe.

  Dale is Holly’s on-off boyfriend who’s on the football team. I suppose it’s a fairytale match; a tight end football player dating the cheer captain. He’s a little slow and doesn’t quite get the same jokes Holly and I make, but his endearing love for Holly compensates for it.

  “So…you’re going to meet with him tomorrow?”

  I shrug, giving her a cup. She takes it, drinking slowly. I lean on the kitchen counter, thinking about her words. “I guess I am.”

  “You could always say no.”

  “One thing I know about Roman,” I exhale. “He’s one annoying, stubborn motherfucker.”

  “You want me to tag along?”

  “It’s fine,” I smile. “I’ll just bring the pepper spray.”

  She winks. “Attagirl.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Dad gives me a couple of missed calls in the morning and I groggily roll out of bed, picking up the phone.

  “Hello?” I croak.

  “I tried calling you a couple of times and you weren’t picking up, I was getting worried,” he says gruffly.

  “I was asleep,” I groan, rubbing my eyes.

  “It’s one in the afternoon, Ken.”

  “I don’t have classes today…”

  “Well, sorry if I got worried because I haven’t spoken to you in over two weeks.”

  Damn, has it been two weeks? I’ve barely been able to keep up with my classes without falling asleep and practice has been kicking my ass lately. I gotta go checked with the doctor. Probably an iron deficiency or something.

  “Sorry, I’m up,” I get up, stretching my hands. “Is everything okay?”

  “I wanted to ask how you were doing,” he says awkwardly.

  I’ve had a couple of phone calls like this. Dad calling in the middle of nowhere just to check up on me. Not that I don’t appreciate it but it’s out of character for him. When I was in Mountford, we rarely spoke beyond what we were having for dinner or small talk. But now ever since I moved out and went to California, he’s paying more attention, trying to talk and get to know me more. And believe me, I don’t want to sound ungrateful because this is all I wanted since the day of Mom’s funeral. It’s just….I don’t know why he’s doing it. A part of me refuses to believe that he actually cares. That he actually wants to get to know me.

  I blame my abandonment issues.

  “Not too bad, just tired. How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” he says roughly. “Working a little late with the shifts but can’t complain with the overtime. Went to the doctor the other day though, had some dizziness, really bad migraines so wanted to check it up.”

  Alarm bells go off in my head. Dread swarms my chest. “Dizziness? What’s wrong?”

  I’m such a bad daughter. It’s been two weeks and I don’t even know that Dad’s been feeling ill this whole time.

  He clears his throat, pausing. That’s not a good sign. That’s usually when he has to break a piece of bad news and he’s preparing the most digestible form.

  “It’s early days but they completed a few scans and spotted abnormal cell growth there. They think it might be some sort of tumour in the brain.”

  A force pummels at my chest.

  Everything feels like it’s sinking.

  The words are lodged in my throat, refusing to come out. Stuck.

  “Ken?”

  “You’ve got cancer?” I croak out.

  “I still need more testing and scans to confirm but doc reckons it’s most likely a malignant cell growth. Listen, I didn’t want you to panic or anything because they caught it early, you know? The doc says it was good that they caught it now rather than later.”

  “B-but what does that mean? Are you going to be okay?” My voice comes out small.

  “I’ll be fine, kid. Don’t stress about your old man. Listen, whenever you got a free weekend, you should come back down. I’ll make a nice lunch. You’d be surprised to know I can cook,” he chuckles lightly.

  I force out a quick reply. “Of course, Dad. I’ll come by this weekend.”

  “Great, that’s great,” he sighs in relief.

  “Hey, Dad? I gotta go, erm, can I call you this Friday? I’ll give you a heads up before I’m heading back home.”

  “Alright, Ken. Take care, kid.”

  Th phone line goes dead. I bury my head in the blanket, trying to regain control over my breathing. But no matter how hard I try, the sobs break out, wracking my chest. The grief and terror that overwhelms is let loose. I can’t lose Dad. I can’t lose another parent.

  Not now. Please. No.

  I breathe deeply, wiping my tears away. Holly knocks on my door, tentatively peeking her head through the door.

  “You okay?” She whispers. She brings in a cup of hot chocolate for me with marshmallows and everything. Holly notes my puffy eyes and leaves the mug on the side table, jumping on the bed, giving me the tightest hug without asking what’s wrong. I hug her back, burrowing my head into her shoulder. The tears flow again. I cry softly, taking comfort in Holly’s warmth.

  “Not really,” I mumble.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  I detach myself, wiping my face. She untangles my hair from my cheek. “Not really. Not yet anyway. I’m sorry -“

  “Hey, hey, it’s fine,” Holly says firmly.

  “I’m just trying to get my head around it. I promise I’ll tell you once I understand it.”

  “You don’t have to promise me anything, okay? You just tell me what you need and I’m here.”

  I cry a little. I’m grateful to have such a supportive friend after years of being alone. “Thank you.”

  She wipes a stray tear from her eye, chuckling hoarsely. “Don’t thank me, that’s what friends are for. God, you’ve got me emotional now!”

  I smile softly. Breathing deeply, I put the blanket away. “Do you have class today?”

  She groans, nodding. “A late one. Won’t finish until six. How evil do you have to be to make a schedule like that? One class and it’s right at the end.”

  “At least Dale will be there with you.”

  “He falls asleep drooling on my shoulder,” she pouts.

  That gets a laugh out of my chest. We both smirk at each other. Holly leans on the bed. “So what are your plans for today?”

  “Meeting the protein shake.”

  “Oh.”

  “Very tempted to ditch…”

  “But didn’t you say he’s stubborn?”

  “Like a mule.” I sigh softly.

  ——

  I walk into a diner near campus called Gloria’s. I smile at the waitress before taking a seat in the booth. I text Roman the address and he tells me he’s fifteen minutes away. He adds another message for dramatic effect.

  Roman: Two chocolate shakes

  Roman: Don’t even think about paying the bill

  I roll my eyes, ignoring his messages. He can order his own damn food.

  Scanning my eyes around the place, I rest my head on my hand, looking out the window. The weight of Dad’s news still presses over my mind, refusing to tuck itself away in a box. A lump in my throat lodges.

  What if he doesn’t make it?

  What if something happens and I’m left all alone?

  Only this time, there’s no-one around to stay with me.

  Stop it.

  Negative thoughts will only make things worse.

  I have to think that it will get better. That Dad will get better.

  “Excuse me?” I call to the waiter and he walks over. “Could I have a glass of water, please?”

  “Sure.”

  He disappears into the kitchen and I close my eyes, breathing evenly. A series of footsteps walk my way.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” Roman drawls.

  I clench my jaw, eyes latched onto his haughty, arrogant face. He slides in the booth, thanking the waiter for the water and orders two shakes without a second glance.

  “Missed me?”

  “Not really,” I murmur.

  “I see you didn’t order -“

  “You can order your own damn food.”

  He smirks before he leans back, watching me carefully. I bristle at the unabashed staring. Both of us are locked into a staring contest before he scoffs, averting his gaze.

  “We need to talk, Kennedy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “You lied to me.”

  Roman gives me a level-headed stare but there’s a stubbornness under those blue eyes; a resilience that he won’t be shooed away like before. His friends are in the other booth behind him and they’re giving inconspicuous looks, trying not to eavesdrop but inevitably intrigued by our conversation. One of them coughs, hiding behind a menu.

  I lick my lips together. “Okay, you got me.”

  He narrows his eyes. “We made a deal where you would tell me the result and I’d leave you alone.”

  “And we’re honoring it.”

  “But you didn’t,” he lifts his brow.

  I sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “What is it exactly that you wanted? If I told you I was going to UCLA, you wouldn’t have left me alone. In fact, I’m sure of it.” I turn back to Roman’s curious expression.

  He fights away a sigh of frustration, bowing his head down.

  He looks handsome as hell doing that. His muscular arms are resting on the table, his face breaking into an scowling grimace, those eyes twinkling with stubbornness; I can’t deny it - he’s drop dead gorgeous. My hormones won’t deny it.

  “And would that have been such a bad thing? I’m not the same -“

  “Stop right there,” I put my finger up. “Don’t give me the ‘I’ve changed’ speech. If you’ve found your redemption arc, good for you but I’m not part of that. Thank you but no.”

  He tightens his jaw. “You’ve already made your mind up about me. Doesn’t matter if I’ve actually changed, your pride won’t let you open your eyes.”

  “My pride!” I widen my eyes.

  “Yes, your pride,” Roman doesn’t flinch.

  “You’ve got some nerve. You know what? As lovely as this reunion has been, I’ve got practice to go to so if you’ll -“

  “Why did you like Kyle?”

  That stops me in my tracks. My mouth goes slack. “You’re still talking about that?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” I scoff, moving to stand.

  Roman flashes his hand out, touching my wrist. My body freezes. The heat sears through my skin, rocketing electric sparks down my spine. It’s been over a year since we last saw each other, since we last touched…since that kiss, and even the softest graze of his hand against my skin sends me into shock, immobilising my anger for a split second.

  Damn him and his power.

  I take my hand back, sitting down.

  We both take a minute. Roman looks out of place, almost affected by the touch like I was.

  Could that really be true?

  It couldn’t possibly.

  But then why doesn’t his gaze hold that familiar rage in the early days of high school? The same one that glared at me with contempt and loathing. Now, it carries a different fire. A different determination and tension that sends shivers down my skin. The same look when he kissed me.

  “Kyle was my friend,” I glance at him. His unflinching, searching gaze throws me off again. It’s a whole minefield trying to lie to him. Not with that cutting gaze.

  “Is that all he was?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  He doesn’t reply instantly.

  “Well?” I push.

  “I’m just looking out for you -“

  I break into a fit of hysterical laughter. This man did not just say that. He did not just say he was looking out for me. The nerve.

  No freaking way.

  People around us start staring, frowning in confusion and whispering among themselves; the scene looks pretty comical, a big, muscular football player brooding and sitting with a puzzled expression as the girl opposite him can’t stop laughing like a hyena, almost collapsing to the floor.

  “What is so funny?” He scowls.

  That makes me laugh even harder. I clutch the table for support, muffling my laugh under my hand. Eventually I gather myself until my laughter turns into a faint streak of giggles.

  “Oh my God,” I wipe a tear away. “This is fucking hilarious.”

  “It’s the truth,” he says tensely.

  “About as true as Santa Claus,” I snort. “Listen, protein shake; high school was a lifetime ago now. I don’t have to see your face, you don’t have to see mine because I distinctly remember how much you hated that I was around -“

  “That’s not -“

  “And -“ I interject with my finger. “ - I can do whatever the hell I like, see whoever I want without your permission or knowledge. In fact, I don’t even know why you insert yourself in my life but no more. Got it?” I move to stand up, gathering my bag over my shoulder. “I would say good day but then I’d be lying.”

  I stride out of the diner, pretty pleased with myself. The gusto, the sassiness I just displayed back there would make my high school self exclaim with joy. I’m proud I did that. Talking back to the Roman Johnson like he’s nothing but an annoying fly.

  Look at me now.

  But I’m not going to lie; I’m still pretty pissed. My body reacted to him.

  Attraction. It was there.

  The butterflies in my stomach wouldn’t let me ignore him.

  I walk down the street, heading back to my dorm when I hear someone call my name.

  “Kennedy!” Roman calls.

  I close my eyes, trying to salvage my last thread of patience. Turning around, I face him. He’s barely broken a sweat, standing opposite.

  “So you really don’t know why I’m here?”

  I put my hand up in frustration. “No! No, I don’t! What do you want from me? What do you possible want from me after all this time?”

  He takes a step forward, crowding my personal space. Flashbacks of that moment flood through my mind.

  I put my hand out. “Stop.”

  “Why?” He rasps.

  I glance up, furious. “You know exactly why. You know exactly what you did.”

  “And what is that?” Roman stares intently.

  “Don’t make me say it.”

  His face curls in a soft smirk, knowing and remembering exactly that day. My fury dissipates a little at how gorgeous he looks. It’s not fair.

  “The kiss,” he confirms. Finally admitting the elephant in the room.

  “You had no right,” I poke my finger into his chest. The bubble of fury spills over. It’s all I see. Red. “That was my first kiss. My first kiss and you stole it from me. You’ve taken everything from me and now? Now, you won’t leave me alone! You’re in my fucking head even when you’re not here pissing me off and it’s infuriating.” I breathe heavily.

  He grabs my hands, pulling me forward into his hard chest. My soft body is held tightly in his strong, muscular arms, caging me but also protecting me, comforting me with a warmth that’s impossible to push away.

  My body unconsciously leans in.

  His expression is pure passion, devoid of humor and any hint of teasing. His blue eyes capture my gaze, refusing to let go.

  “You think I’m doing this to hurt you? You don’t think that I haven’t stopped fucking thinking about you, every single damn day?” His face is inches away from mine. I shiver - not out of fear but anticipation.

  It’s a weird juxtaposition; all I know of him is anger and hate but when he holds me, when he looks at me with those searching, pleading eyes, all I feel is his warmth, his desire, his need to be closer.

  And the scary part is I feel the same.