The Paladin Book 1 Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Thursday

November 25th

It was twelve o’clock by the time my day really got started. It felt strange getting up so late but I felt like treating myself that morning per Johnny’s suggestion, and I had to admit, I was feeling better already. It wasn’t long after I had done my morning routine that my doorbell rang, with Johnny and Samantha at my doorstep. Johnny looked like the cheerleading squad had all mighty-morphed together to make one super high spirited Puerto Rican boy, as he was decked head to toe in Midtown high colors, as well as corresponding face paint, and fake gold and white afro. In stark contrast, Samantha- who looked like she had been dragged out of the house at gunpoint- wore a long sleeve that slightly resembled the Midtown gold and white.

“Hey?” I greeted, not knowing exactly what was going on.

“Hey, Johnny said you were coming with us to the game?” Samantha informed, pointing down to my shoeless feet and my wet hair.

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, cocking my head at Johnny.

“Yeah, I mentioned that to you yesterday right?” he asked, inviting himself in, giving me a wry smile indicating he knew that we hadn’t talked about it the whole time.

“Samantha Anderson is that you? I feel like it’s been ages!” my dad greeted from the kitchen, where he was working on our families own Thanksgiving dinner. Samantha smiled, walking down the hall to the kitchen. My dad gave her a big hug when she came in, fondly patting her on the shoulder.

“It’s been too long Bill,” she agreed. The two went off into their own conversation and I motioned Johnny to follow me to my room, out of their earshot.

“Dude! What the hell?” I demanded, swatting Johnny on the arm.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“What was that for? ‘I mentioned that yesterday, right?’ Dickhead,” I replied, doing an intentionally caricatured version of his voice.

“I figured you were gonna get cold feet if I asked you about the game, so I didn’t.”

“Why would I get cold feet?”

“Cause I know you, and despite the fact that you can charge headlong into gunfire you also are one of the biggest pussies when it comes to women.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mary-Lou in seventh grade, the day before semi-formal," he recalled with laser-like precision. Hoped he had forgotten that.

“Dude that was three years ago,” I dismissed, sliding on a pair of socks, then my pair of worn in Red Wings. Samantha’s head popped through the doorway as I got on my last boot.

“What are you doing? Putting on your makeup? The game starts in a half hour and I’d rather not have to deal with the crowds of people,” she urged.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. It’s not like we don’t all know what’s gonna happen,” I pointed out. The STCH versus Midtown Thanksgiving game was a time-honored tradition of Midtown beating the shit out of STCH for four quarters, and then pretending like it was an even rivalry. Last year was the closest we’d come in decades to winning. This was largely attributed to, you guessed it, Tyler Deckard. Truth is half of Midtown’s best players had gotten sloshed the night before and were all fighting off severe hangovers. That didn’t stop Tyler from getting all the credit when he threw a sixty-yard touchdown to bring the game to overtime which STCH subsequently lost.

“You're just salty cause you're an STCH loser and we’re Midtown winners,” Johnny jabbed.

“Yeah that’s gotta be it,” I scoffed, drying my hair off with a furious ruffle of my bath towel. “Alright, let’s grip it and rip it.”

Gerry had saved seats well in advance for the game, as he was a diehard Midtown high fan and former running back. The seats were pretty good too, the fifth row down in the Veteran’s Dome. The place was packed to the rafters with students, faculty, family, talent scouts, and locals alike. I wasn’t a huge fan of the whole thing but almost every kid in both schools went, so I would’ve been the odd man out had I stayed at home. Kickoff was at one o’clock and by that point we’d all settled into our seats with drinks and food in hand. The first quarter went by pretty quick, both teams managing to stalemate one another for a while until the second quarter came around. That’s when things started rolling downhill for STC, not like I cared all that much. I was more focused on Samantha, gauging her reaction. She didn’t seem like she gave much of a shit either, which was good for me. I noticed that after the first quarter she started rubbing her arms, not-so-subtly saying that she was cold.

“You good Samantha? You look cold,” I asked.

“I’m alright, just a little chilly,” she assured.

“You sure Sammy? You are looking a bit cold, we got some blankets in the car if you want to grab ‘em,” Gerry informed.

“That’s fine, here,” I offered. Taking off my hoodie, holding it out for Samantha.

“No, Booker I couldn’t,” she insisted.

“It’s fine, I’m like a walking furnace,” I joked.

“You’re kidding Booker? You’re in short sleeves, I can’t let you do that,” she pointed out.

“Like I said, walking furnace, I’ll be fine,” I replied. Gerry grabbed my leg discreetly, squeezing my knee joint in an intentionally painful manner.

“She said she was alright Booker,” he made clear, with a stern look in his eyes.

“Okay then… How about I go to the car and get the blanket? I’m not missing anything and my legs could do with a little stretching,” I offered, gesturing towards the field, where Tyler was in the midst of throwing his third intercepted pass of the game.

“I’ll go with you. A leg stretch sounds pretty good right now, and I’ve got a set of keys. Besides I’d feel bad about you going by yourself to get me a blanket,” Samantha added. Before Gerry had time to interject we got up and started heading off to the parking lot. When we were out of earshot Johnny turned to Gerry who looked like he was seven shades of not happy.

“Well that severely backfired on you,” Johnny noted, shoving a fistful of popcorn in his mouth. Gerry looked to Johnny, displacing some of his frustration in his glare.

“Johnny, has anyone ever told you that you need to learn when to shut up?” Gerry posed.

“My mom says that from time to time,” Johnny answered.

“Rosa’s a wise lady.”

“So how are you doing Booker?” Samantha asked as we slowly strolled through the vast concrete tunnels of the stadium. Our footsteps echoed throughout the old structure.

“Good I guess, I’ve been working the case a little bit, just some research, but I think I’m making some progress,” I informed, refraining from giving any details.

“I’m not talking about the case, I’m talking about you. How are you doing? I feel like we don’t talk as much as we should, and now with this superhero stuff we’re only ever talking about one thing,” she insisted.

“I don’t know, I mean what did we even talk about before? Movies, hobbies, books, art, girls, boys? You pick,” I pointed out.

“There a girl on your mind?”

“Well I guess I opened Pandora’s box there.”

“So there is a girl?”

“You really wanna talk about girls?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I want you to talk about girls. Now spit it out, Kelly,” she replied, jabbing me playfully.

“There is this one girl, absolutely beautiful, super smart, funny, and one of the nicest people I know. Problem is she’s totally out of my league, and I don’t think she thinks of me in the same way, so I don’t really know if it’s worth going after.”

“Have you tried talking to her about it? You know, share your feelings with her?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I feel like she’d take it the wrong way and things would get weird between us, and I don’t want that, she’s a good friend.”

“If she’s as good of a friend as you say then she’ll understand at the very least, if not reciprocate the same feelings,” she figured, leaving me with no options. You gotta do it! Don’t be a bitch! “Don’t you think it's worth the shot?” she asked. I turned to her, opening my mouth to utter the words when suddenly the sound of plastic cracking against concrete rang throughout the tunnel.

“Damn it!” a familiar voice sounded. I turned to see the familiar face that was attached to the familiar voice storming my way with a broken football helmet in hand. “The hell are you looking at, little pig?” Tyler demanded. Goddamnit!

“Who are you calling a pig?” Samantha questioned.

“Don’t worry he means me,” I assured.

“So little pig got himself a miss piggy, that’s cute,” he mocked, clearly looking to take out his frustration on someone.

“Okay, now he’s talking about you,” I corrected.

“Oh shut up Tyler. Why don’t you harass someone who gives a shit?” Samantha replied. The two had a history, Tyler happened to be one of the people that made fun of Colt during his chemo when we were younger and Samantha hadn’t forgiven him for that.

“What did you say, Franken-Sam?” he retorted, clearly striking a nerve as Samantha’s face went pale white.

“Franken-Sam, really?” I asked.

“Oh he doesn’t know? Your girl is a freak, little pig. She’s the only girl who changes in the stalls during gym class. Rumor is that she looks like a scratch post, scars all over her body, isn’t that right?” he remarked. Samantha looked down at her feet in a shameful manner, shrinking before Tyler.

“For once Tyler just shut the hell up,” I insisted.

“You were talking all tough a minute ago. Do you even know why she has all those scars?” Tyler taunted, getting in her face, ignoring me altogether.

“That’s enough!” I made clear, shoving him back.

“What are you gonna do about it little pig? Hmm? You’re on probation, you know what that means?” he challenged, stepping forward. “That means I say what I want.” he started with a shove of his own. “I do what I want." Shove. “When I want." Shove. “And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. Just like when I tuned you up on Monday, and just like I’ll keep doing until I don’t feel like it anymore,” he finalized with a shit eating grin on his face. Not a moment later I felt a change in the air, like the ozone shifting before a lightning strike, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I turned to Samantha who wasn’t cowering like she was before but instead had her head held high and had a murderous look in her eye. I knew what was going to happen, or at least a part of me knew in the back of my mind. But it was like when you see a car crash happening in front of you, it’s almost so surreal you think it’s not happening. Her leg muscles tensed and her right foot drew forward. The attack was coming.

“You think it’s fun to beat people up that can’t fight back? You think because you have a shred of power its fine for you to treat people like shit?” she demanded. Before he had his chance to retort she won the argument with a soccer kick straight to the groin. There was nothing graceful or technical about the kick, just raw vicious anger incarnate. Tyler crumpled to the ground and Samantha got on top of him in the mount position, warding off his pitiful attempts to escape. She proceeded to uncork a primal rage that I’d never seen before, unloading shot after shot, elbows, and fists flying. For a millisecond I relished in karma doing its work, but then I realized she wasn’t stopping.

“Sam get off!” I insisted. She still wasn’t stopping. I rushed in, bear hugging her in an attempt to separate them without hurting her. I couldn’t believe how strong she was, it was like holding back a bullmastiff from chasing down a squirrel. She instinctively booted me in the shin and headbutted backwards into my face. Crunch! My nose started gushing blood. I let go, and soon as I did she hit me with a double leg takedown, forcing me to the concrete. She tried to do the same thing to me that she did to Tyler. But even with her freakish strength, she was still giving up size on me, and I wasn’t meek prey like Tyler. I swept her legs out from under her and pinned her to the ground. She wriggled like a python but years of wrestling practice helped me manage to keep her held down.

“Samantha!” I yelled. She struggled furiously until all of a sudden she came to a halt, the murderous look in her eye subsiding to a look of fear and regret when she saw the blood covering my face.

“Oh my God Booker… I’m so… I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, her eyes starting to water. I let go of my hold and gave her a hug. She wrapped her arms around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I could feel each individual tremble of uncertainty and fear as she clutched me closely.

“You’re done you crazy bitch, you hear that? I’m going to tell my father and we’re going to make your life a living hell. When we’re done with your ass they’ll throw you in juvie. You’re never seeing that fake dad of yours again,” Tyler threatened as he stumbled to his feet, his face looking like it’d been caught in a blender. That’s when I snapped. I broke Samantha’s grasp over me and strode towards Tyler. A year of backlogged anger manifesting in a single right-handed haymaker. Whap! The sound of my fist landing flush on Tyler’s face rang throughout the concrete hallway. It was almost like it was in slow motion, seeing him sail through the air. Thud! Tyler’s face hit the ground hard, no bracing for impact. He was out cold.

“Oh fuck,” I uttered.

After we went back and told Gerry what had happened he agreed that it would probably be best that we get the hell out of Dodge. Unfortunately, That didn’t happen as on our way out of the stadium and into the parking lot I noticed Ross Deckard in a three-piece suit, leaning against Gerry’s truck with his arms folded, standing next to his son whose face was so roughed up I almost felt bad for him.

“Great, my favorite person in the world,” Gerry greeted sardonically.

“Why am I not surprised you’re involved? Your kids have always been thugs Gerry, but now it’s gone too far. This is assault, practically attempted murder, you’ll be lucky if she gets out of this without jail time,” Ross made clear.

“Attempted murder? Tyler picked a fight and he got his ass kicked, Ross. Why don’t you do you and your son a favor, get in your car, get over your egos and go home before you catch a second ass kicking,” Gerry replied.

“Clearly your kid’s behavior doesn’t come from the breeze, she’s gonna pay for this and so are you,” Ross insisted.

“Look, Mr. Deckard, it wasn’t Samantha’s fault, I was the one who threw the punches. So if you want someone to blame then that’s me,” I interjected. Samantha turned to me wide-eyed in disbelief that I would take the bullet for her.

“Mr. Kelly, somehow I’m even less surprised. Well, Tyler?” Ross asked, looking at Tyler expectantly. I was banking on Tyler’s pride getting in the way. Having him go along with my story for no other reason than the optics. After all, it’s a lot manlier to get the crap kicked out of you by a smaller guy rather than a much smaller girl. Unfortunately, Tyler was a bitch.

“That crazy bitch attacked me first and then he came after!” he refuted, pointing to Samantha who already looked ashamed of her actions, now looking like she just wanted to crawl into a ball. It was lucky Johnny and I had good reaction time otherwise the attempted murder might have been bumped up to homicide as Gerry lashed out at Tyler, in an attempt to get his hands on him.

“Call my daughter a bitch again you little shit and see what happens!” Gerry warned, as he pushed against me and Johnny, each of us grabbing an arm. “Let me go, you two!”

“Come on Gerry,” I insisted.

“Yeah man, just calm down,” Johnny agreed, having to put his full weight into holding Gerry’s arm back.

“Great behavior Gerry, A-plus parenting,” Ross mocked with a sardonic applause, as Johnny and I forcefully pinned him against his truck.

“What’s going on here?” a familiar voice rang through the parking lot. I turned around to see Alex and Alicia Romero pacing towards us in full STCH colors, looking like the inverse of Johnny with their STCH team spirit. Gerry shook the two of us off, calming down a little.

“Mr. Romero. I didn’t expect you to be here,” Ross greeted, standing up a bit straighter.

“Yeah well it’s our first month in Tar City so I wanted to give Alicia the full experience and I figured what better way than the turkey day football game. Kind of a blowout though, I remember us being better. Oh hey Booker,” Alex replied, noticing me a couple seconds into the conversation. “So I’ll repeat, what’s going on?”

“This psycho bitch jumped me, then he came in and double-teamed me,” Tyler accused.

“What did I say?” Gerry demanded, giving Johnny and I barely enough time to grab him.

“Whoa there’s no need for the harsh language, let’s dial it back a little. Booker, why don’t you tell me what happened? Seeing as this young man is still pretty riled up from the whole thing,” Alex asked.

“Oh, sir you don’t want to take his word. The Kelly’s are a family of troublemakers, and Booker here is the worst one. Last year he attacked my son for no reason at all. He’s just a violent delinquent with a history of this type of thing. That’s why he’s on probation in school, no doubt after this he’s going to be expelled!” Ross informed, putting particular emphasis on expelled. He wasn’t wrong, my life was filled with a lot of violence, and I was a delinquent if we were being technical. Maybe Ross had a point.

“Lot of people seem to wanna beat up your son, Ross,” Alex pointed out. “Any of this true, Booker?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I punched him last year,” I admitted.

“You got a reason for that?” Alex added.

“None that these two won’t deny,” I sighed, pointing to the Deckards.

“Hmm… Alicia, what do you think?” Alex queried, turning to his daughter who seemed like she had plenty to say, giving Tyler a dirty look all the while.

“I can’t speak to last year, but Tyler’s been bullying Booker every chance he got since I came to school. I never knew why Booker didn’t fight back, that is until now,” she informed.

“Oh, well then, that’s a different story,” Alex realized, turning to Tyler and Ross with a questioning glare.

“You’re seriously trusting the word of-”

“Of who? My daughter? Are you calling my daughter a liar now too? Better pick your next words carefully there Ross,” Alex interjected, cutting off Ross’ rebuttal, causing Ross to shrink before him.

“But Mr. Romero, I’m your lawyer,” Ross insisted feebly.

“Tell you what Ross. If you and your son don’t go home now and forget this thing ever happened, you’re going to just be a lawyer. How does that sound?” Alex replied, raising an eyebrow. Ross got the cue and dragged his son back to their car with a grumble, allowing Johnny and I to let go of Gerry without fear of him strangling Tyler in the parking lot.

“Thanks Alex, that could’ve been real dicey,” I sighed.

“I look after my own, besides I’m not a fan of bullies and liars. Probably why I hate most of my legal team,” Alex dismissed.

“Still, you did us a huge favor. Gerry by the way, Gerry Anderson,” Gerry introduced, holding out his hand.

“Alex Romero,” Alex replied, shaking Gerry’s hand.

“Like, Tech-Sync Alex Romero?” Gerry questioned.

“I also like reading a good book, cooking, and long walks on the beach but I guess Tech-Sync is what I’m most known for,” Alex joked.

“How do you two…?” Gerry asked, pointing to me and Alex.

“I’m his no-man, it’s just as dumb as it sounds,” I answered.

“And that’s why I hired him, he’s a good kid and he doesn’t bullshit. Two surprisingly rare commodities in the corporate world believe it or not,” Alex elaborated, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s alright isn’t he?” Gerry admitted, ruffling my hair a little.

“Well, now all of that drama has been settled we should be going, I haven’t even gotten started on dinner yet and I refuse to have Francois cook us another holiday meal,” Alex finalized, directing the last part at Alicia.

“You guys wanna come over with us for dinner?” Johnny chimed in.

“Oh no that’s fine, I didn’t mean to impose, as I said I like to cook,” Alex assured.

“You sure? Every year for Thanksgiving my mom kinda has a competition where whoever brings the most guests gets to be host and doesn’t have to do the dishes. My brother Charlie is friends with everyone in our neighborhood so he’s at an unfair advantage, so you’d be doing me the solid,” Johnny explained. Alex and Alicia both smiled, turning to one another.

“What do you think? Up to you?” Alex offered.

“I think it sounds like fun,” Alicia said.

“You heard the lady, just tell us when and where?” Alex asked.

“Come in a couple of hours, twenty-two Pewter ave, the one with the green door,” Johnny informed.

“Sounds like a plan, it was good meeting you all, see you in an hour or two,” Alex finalized. Alicia gave us a wave as the two of them walked off to their car.

Samantha wasn’t in much of a better state than she was in earlier, she’d wiped the tears out of her eyes but I knew she was still very distraught as she looked down at her swollen bloodied knuckles and crimson stained shirt. I put my arm around her, bringing her in close to comfort her, and she clutched me back as she did before. For a second I met Gerry’s eyes in the rearview mirror and instead of the disapproval I expected he just gave me a slight nod. The drive was silent the rest of the way to Johnny’s house. The warm greeting from Rosa turning to concern when she saw Samantha.

“Oh my goodness, baby what happened? Never mind, let’s just get this blood off you and get you into some new clothes, I think I’ve got some old shirts that’ll fit,” Rosa assured, leading her up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Hey, Johnny, bathroom in the same place?” I asked, gesturing towards my blood covered knuckles and jacked up nose.

“Yeah, second door on the left,” he confirmed, pointing up the stairs. I climbed up the stairs finding my way to the small bathroom with a rusty radiator inside. Just like old times. I looked in front of the mirror, assessing the damage she’d done. Samantha had popped me pretty good, better than most I’d fought. My nose stained red like my hands, veering off a little to one side. Dammit! Broken, again. Gonna need to reset it. I took a deep breath, looking at my eyes, trying to get myself ready. 1, 2, 3. Crack!

“God… Damn… Son of a bitch,” I cursed, my eyes tearing as the cartilage snapped back into place. After a few deep breaths, I cleaned out a wad of crimson mucus into the sink that was stuck in my nostrils, plugged the base of my nose and washed off the residual blood. Soon after, I knocked on Rosa’s bedroom door. I didn't know exactly what I was thinking at the time, I just knew I had to do something. Rosa answered the door, quickly stepped out seeing it was me, then closed the door behind her.

“Well this isn’t how I saw Thanksgiving going. How are you Booker?” she sighed.

“Sorry about this Rosa. This is my fault, she only got roped in because of me. Tyler Deckard and I got into it with one another, and Samantha was just defending me,” I sighed.

“Your fault? Really? Cause the way she just told it to me sounds like you were the hero of this story, and I know you’re a good boy. So no offense, but I don’t believe you,” she said, patting me on the shoulder.

“Thanks Rosa,” I replied with a small smile.

“I’m going to get back to the desserts, that flan isn’t going to make itself. I trust you’ll let me know if she needs anything, okay? Cause there’s no way Samantha is going to, that girl is a silent sufferer,” she made clear. I nodded in agreement and she headed downstairs to work on the flan she’d been abruptly distracted from. I heard muffled crying coming from the other side of the door. I walked into the room, Samantha sat on Rosa’s bed with her bloody shirt beside her, tears pouring through her hands. That’s when I saw why they called her Franken-Sam, running down her back, around her upper arms and all across her sides were brutal scars, making her look like she’d been ripped apart and stitched back together. It was so bad that it was easier to count what wasn’t covered in scar tissue than what was. I obscured the view with my hand out of respect, then slowly lowered it out of curiosity.

“Now you’ve gotten a glimpse of the real me, don’t worry, you don’t have to stay for my sake. I’m a monster and you would be smart to run away from me,” she encouraged, sniffling back the wetness in her eyes. I would have given anything in that moment to stop her tears.

“You’re not ugly and you’re not a monster. You’re one of the most beautiful girls I know.”

“Beauty is as beauty does, and the way I act is pretty ugly.”

“Samantha… You’re the girl.”

“What?”

“You’re the girl. The one I was talking about earlier, at the game. You’re the one, and the last thing I want to do is run away from you,” I insisted, sitting down next to her. I reached to put my arm around her but she recoiled. I looked at her confused.

“I think you should go,” she made clear, turning her back to me.

“What?” I asked, my words sounding as though I’d had the wind knocked out of me.

“Just leave Booker! Now!” she demanded. Gut wrenched by her words I did as I was told. I left. I opened up the door and ran into Johnny on the other side, poised to knock. He took one look at my face and his smile faded.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’m gonna get some air,” I replied tersely, fighting back a few tears as I blew past him, bolted down the stairs, grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.

I sat overlooking Peat River from the stone wall that ran alongside it, observing the bass fishermen putting in work, trying to avoid their families on a perfectly good November afternoon. They typically just threw back their catches, but once in a while they’d catch a big one and run a blade through it, goring it through and through. I’d never related to a bass so much in my life. I’ll admit it wasn’t a very good metaphor, fish got to be brain dead after they got run through, not a single sensation, a mercy I would have killed for at the time. But I was heartbroken and it was the most apropos connection I could make. If I wasn’t feeling like a failure before then, that put the nail in the coffin. I sighed in the brisk November air when I heard the sound of crunching leaves behind me. I turned around and there was Alicia doing her best to scale the stone wall without much luck. If I were in a better mood the whole scene might have drawn out a smile, but as it stood I wasn’t in a place to be entertained.

“Wanna give me a hand or just watch me struggle?” she asked.

“What are you doing here Alicia?” I replied.

“Saw you run out the door, wondered where you were going. Besides, no offense to your friends, they’re nice people, but they are your friends,” she pointed out.

“Fair enough." I walked over and reached out my arm, hoisting her up to the top with a quick heave.

“Wow, I can see why you came here, the view is pretty amazing.”

“Typically I don’t come for the view, I come to be alone.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I’m just being a whiny bitch,” I groaned as I sat back down. She took the spot next to me, looking at me like I was a hurt puppy.

“What’s going on?” she posed.

“Nothing,” I dismissed. She wasn’t buying it and I couldn’t exactly blame her, I was about as convincing as a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “I just feel like everything I do turns to shit no matter how hard I try, and there is no one I can turn to for help.”

“You can turn to me, you know I’ve got your back,” she made clear.

“Thanks Alicia, but we’ve only known each other for a week. I really shouldn’t be dropping all this bullshit drama on you, especially not on Thanksgiving, that’s not cool of me,” I realized.

“My mom died in a mugging gone wrong ten years ago around this time of year, right here in Tar City,” she brought up. I gave her a curious glance, not seeing where it was coming from. “I’m sure you already know about that, it made international headlines. I hadn’t felt it in a while, you know? It’s been so long that I figured I just got over it. But ever since coming back, I’ve felt this sort of loneliness, this isolation. I used to be able to turn to my dad but I just can’t anymore. So believe it or not I might have an idea of how you’re feeling. At least in regards to not having anyone to turn to.”

“Have you tried talking to anyone about it?”

“You would be the first,” she admitted.

“I really appreciate you shar-” my sentiment was cut short when I felt her lips press against mine, derailing any and all trains of thought leaving the station. She pulled me in closer and I did the same, as the two of us locked lips until we remembered to breathe.

“Sorry, it just sort of… happened,” she apologized, not knowing what to say.

“Wow,” I remarked at a complete loss for words.

“Oh my God! That was so inappropriate! I can’t believe that I did that, I never act like this, I never kiss a guy after a week, I rarely kiss guys ever, let alone after a week. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea of me, I’m not some girl that… you know… kisses a guy after a week,” she assured, spiraling down a rabbit hole.

“Wow,” I repeated, still at a loss for words.

“Can you say something else besides that?”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t see that one coming,” I made clear.

“And?”

“And… I think that changes things.”