Katie - February 6

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Just as I'm leaning forwards I realize what I'm about to do and stop in my tracks. He said he likes it when I take the lead but I don't want to get carried away because of that and ruin everything. Making progress with Jake is an arduous task. I don't mind that, but I also don't want to go backwards because of taking things too far, too early. I wonder how far is too far in Jake's world. I move back right after my lips touch his skin, leaving the promise of a proper neck kiss floating in the air between us. He immediately turns around to sit facing me. He looks so good in a braid. I'm honestly starting to believe that it is physically impossible for him to look bad at all. I'm suddenly breathless.

"What was that?" I can see a smile escaping his lips.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"You are... sorry? I..." He leans in and presses his lips against mine. Speaking is not his thing. Kissing definitely is.

The kiss is tender and short. When he pulls back, he fixes his eyes on mine. His hands move to my cheeks and he starts gently drawing small circles with his thumbs right below my cheekbones. He then takes his eyes away from mine to lay them on my lips and follows the curve of my jaw line with the back of his hand until he reaches my neck. I take his hands in mine on an impulse and kiss them. One first, then the other.

We don't speak. We don't smile or even blink. We just study each other meticulously, grasping each feature, expression and gesture in what feels like a ritual. Our own, private ritual. Personally, I also focus on breathing, which hasn't been much of an unconscious process since the moment he turned around. Then, he finally decides to speak.

"Do I even have to say anything?"

He says it all by saying nearly nothing. I shake my head lightly and mirror his grin. He moves next to me and places one hand on my thigh while still holding my left hand with the other. I feel like I never want to let go of him, ever. He tilts his head to one side as he stares at the sea, inadvertently leaving his neck exposed for my lips to fulfil their promise. Their touch against his neck raises goose bumps in his skin. I smile to myself and rest my head on his shoulder.

"I'm leaving for New Zealand tomorrow evening," he spits out as if he's been meaning to say it for a while. "With the band, yunno? Well, at least I think I am."

"You think you are?" I move my head up to show him the best what-do-you-mean face I can come up with. One that hides the pain behind it after finding out that he is leaving so soon.

"Yeah, we'll have to find a new singer after I kill Josh."

I laugh, not sure if I should. "What is it?"

"Do you really think of this place as charming? I mean... it stinks. Josh said it would be romantic. I don't know. I just feel like he was making fun of me."

"Hey, it's not so bad. Not enough for you to kill him, anyways," I say and chuckle.

"I knew it! I'm sorry, K. I'll ask you next time. I promise."

I love the sound of 'next time'. "We could literally be inside a dumpster right now and I wouldn't mind, babe," I say. He smiles shyly and looks down. "Is Josh really that kinda guy? He seemed so serious last night."

"Mhm, he was. He was in a really bad mood last night, to be honest. He usually isn't, tho. Remember last night's Beer Pong? Well, we were supposed to be playing a show instead."

"Wait. What?"

"We had to cancel. Josh has some kind of infection in his throat. We don't really know how bad it is. There's a possibility we'll have to cancel New Zealand, too."

"Oh, so you really don't know if you are leaving." I look away, afraid that a glimmer in my eyes may make my newfound hopes too obvious. I'm so selfish.

"I don't. I will not kill Josh, though. But that part was true," he says. He changes the topic after that. We change the topic several times, actually, but I can only seem to focus on kissing him again.

The sun goes down and we decide it's time to head back. When we get to the van he opens the door for me, a gesture that would have earned anyone else a good round of mockery. Coming from him, however, it feels nothing but chivalrous. He puts some music on as soon as we get in the van and turns up the volume whenever a song he likes comes on. There is no talking except for my giving directions to get home. I watch him drive from the corner of my eye and, occasionally, catch a glimpse of him mouthing the words to the song coming out of the speakers. Happiness wells up in my chest. I wish I lived farther from the docks.

"Have you ever heard of a certain thing called GPS? You are replaceable, yunno?" he mocks me after we pull up in my driveway and I automatically start trying to explain how to get to the hotel where his friends are staying.

"I know. I just wanted to brag about my vast knowledge of St Kilda," I shoot back as I boastingly slap my hair behind my shoulders with the back of my hand.

I get out of the van and make my way around it to stand next to Jake's window, which is rolled all the way down. For the first time since I saw him at the beach, I have to look up to meet his eyes. Standing next to him today, I noticed we are the exact same height. When we are face to face our eyes naturally meet the other's, as if they were made for that purpose only. I cross my arms, place them on the ledge of the window and then rest my head on them. "So, see you around, I guess."

"I guess" he says and kisses me goodbye. "Well, definitely," he states, validating my thought that we will see each other again soon. We have to.

As he drives away, I feel a surge of panic. What if I never see him again? What if he leads girls on everywhere he goes? What if there is one heartbroken girl - maybe more! - in every city ever wandered by Jake Kiszka? Nah. I dismiss the thought before it grows roots. This is special. I know it. He knows it. I just wish I had had the guts to tell him how much I'd like to see him again tomorrow before he leaves for New Zealand, but I feel like that would be too much. We have just met. No need to scare him away.

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