“Oh God,” Leilani groans in anticipation, but what can I do? I'm in love. And love is selfish.
When Gill leans over and presses his mouth to mine, I wrap the fingers of my right hand in his hair and let myself get swept away into a memory.
A memory of us.
“Hey Gill?” I roll over onto my side, Gill's hoodie wrapped around me, his spicy scent drifting up from inside the folds of the ebony cotton, heady and dangerous and mysterious. We barely know each other, but … it feels like he's been living with Mom and me for years.
Gilleon turns to look at me, that beautiful dark hair of his falling over his forehead into his eyes. He might be seventeen, but he has a gaze that goes deeper than any of the other kids at my school, like he's been places, done things. It's not a bad look, but I think it makes him weigh what he says, what he does, carefully. He's still goofy sometimes, still has a sense of humor, but there's a darkness there that's he cautious about.
I should ignore it, treat him cordially, like the acquaintance he is, a stepbrother who will never feel like a brother, not when we didn't grow up together.
But today, I forgot my jacket; he gave me his sweater. I can't stop sniffing it. Does that make me crazy?
“Yeah?” he asks, grinning at me from his spot on the floor of my bedroom. His arms are covered in bruises from the mother he still loves, the one he had to leave behind. I can't even imagine. “What's up?”
I swallow hard, toying with the strings at the neckline of my borrowed hoodie.
“What do you want to do when you grow up?” I feel a red blush color my cheeks and struggle to correct my statement. What am I, five? “I mean, like, what do you want from life?”
Gill turns to face me, wrapping his arms around his knees, his blue eyes bright as sapphires, his perfect mouth twisted to the side in a smile. Our faces are so close we could kiss. We don't, but … we could. Just a few more inches …
“You mean what do I want to do? As a job? Or what do I really want?” I shrug, keeping my honey brown gaze on his. No way I'm looking away first. This is my bedroom, my turf; Gill's the new guy.
“Either one.”
He pauses for a moment, thinks, and then his smile gets wider.
“Je veux être avec toi pour toujours, Regina.” Gill unclasps his hands from around his legs and sits up on his knees. Our mouths are even closer now … oh God. My mind struggles to translate, but I'm not far enough into my French class to do much more than say my name and classify school supplies.
“Not fair!” I say, sitting up and putting some distance between us. I don't know how many times I can feel his breath feather against my cheeks and not do something about it. “What did you just say? You know I can't translate that.”
Gill follows me forward, standing up and putting an arm on either side of my crossed legs. He leans in, closing the distance I just put between us, headphones hanging over his neck.
“Veux-tu être ma petite amie?” he asks and I laugh, smacking him in the chest. When he grabs my hand and curls his fingers around it, I can hardly keep my breath.
“I don't know what you just said,” I whisper, but Gill won't stop smiling.
“Just say yes,” he tells me, and I do.
It takes me fifteen years to remember—and properly translate that.
I want to be with you forever. Would you like to be my girlfriend?
I smile.
One day, he'll ask me to marry him—again.
I'll say yes—again.
And this time, this time we'll get what we always deserved.
A second chance.
A happily ever after.
Fin
The End