Chapter Two

Scarlett told us about changes in the party�"not the venue, not the foods, and not that Mr. Kwiatkowski didn’t allowed her (Nah, Scarlett was spoiled to her dad which opposite to me. She could have anything she wants) to held a party on their living room. “My brother told me that he also wants to have a party in the living room. I hate to be with his college friends. Merging high school students and colleges is worse than having a blizzard and a hurricane all at once. Uggghh!” she exclaimed.

                “That’s alright, Scarlett.” I said, pretending it’s also okay. “Students we invited would presumably outnumber your brother’s friends.” “Yeah,” a voice said. We all turned around and saw Ms. Madison carrying a tray of cheesy fries. Her copper blonde was tied into a ponytail. She’s wearing a white sleeveless shirt inside a black jacket and a black tennis skirt. She sat down next to me and continued talking. “Some college guys are hot. They’re maybe two or three years older than you. The more party attendees, the merrier,” she nods while talking, waiting for one of us to agree. Rachel did. “Yeah, I mean, our schoolmates wouldn’t mind if these hot college guys were in the party, right?” I nodded. “See?” Ms. Madison glanced at Scarlett. “We could enjoy even though those guys will be joining us, too.”

                Scarlett texted the people who’ll come in her party and ask if is it okay if have college boys to join us. The replies were, of course, positive. She received messages in a minute. The responds were, Of course! And much better! And I love to! And other stuffs that saying they love to have other school students in the party and time to make new friends and blah, blah, blah.

            “They, they uhh, they confirmed . . .” Scarlett stammered.

                “Told you they want to,” Ms. Madison repeated. “Trust me, you’ll have fun. By the way! Is your brother a hottie, too? I saw his yearbook picture when he was a senior. His name was Slater Kwiatkowski, if I’m not mistaken. But he doesn’t have an auburn hair like yours.”

                “Black.” She said. “He dyed his hair black.” Scarlett didn’t like her brother that much. They have a complicated relationship. She told us before that she wished he doesn’t have an older brother or kicked him out of their house. ‘Slater was such a trouble-maker,’ she once complained to me. Slater was cute and sporty. He used to be part of the soccer team. For me, I’m okay to have a brother like that. At least I’m not the only one to be yelled by my injurious dad. He’s a rule-breaker. I’m sure dad would always ground him for not respecting him and minding extracurricular activities first rather than his studies.

                “How old is he?” Ms. Madison asked. “Are any of his friends is capable to date a twenty-six-year old like me? Do they? Do they?”

                “Uhh, I don’t know.” Scarlett sighed. “All I knew was he and his friends were b*****s.”

                “Oh, yes.” Ms. Madison chuckled. “Are you bitter on boys?”

                “No! Why would I be? I never had a boyfriend. Let’s just prepare for my party, okay?”

 

It’s Friday and it’s the day of the party. I couldn’t decide what I supposed to wear and I’d been standing in front of the mirror in an hour with my hair already braided. It’s snowing this night, so I need to dress that’ll make me warm. I wore a white leather jacket, scarf, paired with black pants and boots. I wondered if I looked party-like or a thirty-year-old woman.

                Dad was watching sports channel in the living room. He maybe just got off from work because he’s wearing his police suit. “Cody . . .” he called. I hate it when dad called me my second name, Cody. What’s the sense of naming me Kristen? Cody was like a boy’s name and I don’t want people mistaken me I was a boy. I paused and glanced at him. “How will you get to Scarlett Kwiatkowski’s house?” he asked. “Uh, I walk. I love to walk.” He turned off the television and stood up, “I drive you to Scarlett’s. I just don’t want to repeat the whole thing.” He took his police car keys and we both entered the car. I couldn’t hesitate to ride dad’s work car. I just thought that if I pleaded him that I rather walk, maybe he wouldn’t allow me to go to Scarlett and force me to study this Friday night.

                We stopped at front of Scarlett’s house. Mr. Kwiatkowski approached us, uhh, I mean, my dad. “Good evening, Chief Coleman.” Mr. Kwiatkowski greeted. “Oh, hi, Kristen,” he glanced at me. “Scar and Rachel are inside.” I walked away from them but dad pulled me back. “Have fun, Cody.” He said without enthusiasm. “Take care.” Dad whispered. “Sure, dad, bye, will you fetch me?” I asked. “Okay, enjoy.” He kissed my forehead and I walked passed them.   

                The party was vaster than I thought. Scarlett changed the venue in their backyard rather in their living room where heater could warm us off. The school’s varsity was complete, Ms. Madison and Mrs. Watson were also present, and, unfortunately, Josh Hemsworth was also there with his girlfriend, Tiffany, which, surely, better than me. Slater’s college friends were hanging out with some of the soccer and baseball players.

                “Kristen!” Rachel called.

                “You made it!” Scarlett’s surprised.

                “Yeah, special thanks for Ms. Madison. This party is great! I told you your brother’s friend would not bother our before-exam celebration.”

                “And his friends are hot!” Scarlett said. “Ms. Madison was right! See that guy over there?” she pointed this college guy with a golden brown hair and blue eyes. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a black shirt. That guy was also staring at us. “He looks like a bad boy.” I told Scarlett, disapprovingly. “Oh, god, Kristen.” She rolled eyes. “Bad boys were the hottest ones. Looking at them makes you drool.” Scarlett said, dreamingly.

                “Ooohh, I want a red tea, Scarlett.” Rachel said.

                “Come!” Scarlett dragged Rachel and left me.

                I glanced to this golden brown-haired guy and we locked eyes. To look like in a friendly way, I smiled at him. I waited for him to approach like he should do the first move but he just grinned at me in a hostile way, so I looked away.

                “Kristeeeen,” Ms. Madison called. When I first saw her, you could feel that it’s really Christmas. She’s wearing a red coat and white pants. Her auburn hair was curled at the tip. She’s eating strawberries that she dipped in hot chocolate syrup. “I have credits from you because I’m the reason you’re standing right here!” she teased. I laughed.

                She looked around and said while chewing, “You see Slater’s friends?” I glanced back to him again then unluckily Ms. Madison saw me locking eyes with one of Slater’s friend. “You choose that guy? He’s like, a, there’s something, different, he’s uh, he, you know, rock.” She said, dreamily. “Those black leather jacket and black shirt, oh god. He’s f*****g hot!” Ms. Madison dipped a strawberry in the chocolate then sucked it in my mouth. “You and he maybe could work out, I guess.” Ms. Madison ran out of strawberry and she left me.  

                Rachel and Scarlett returned handing an extra glass of tea. “Have some tea, Kristen!” she gave me one. I sipped the fervent red tea that indisputably made by Mrs. Kwiatkowski who dreamt of having a coffee shop business. I glanced back to Slater’s friend and he’s still staring at our place. Was my hair unfixed? Was my jacket looked crinkled? He’s been gazing at us strangely. Too much for the peering�"I was astonished when I didn’t notice Rachel’s calling.

                “You okay?” she asked. “You’re out of the world, Coleman.”

                “Yeah,” I answered. “I’m fine. I’m good. What’s up?”

                “What’s wrong with you Kristen Cody Coleman? What’re you staring at?” Scarlett looked behind. “Oh, s**t, Kristen! Don’t tell mo you’re gazing at him?” she pointed this golden-brown haired guy. “God, you find him hot, too. Don’t you?” I faced Scarlett, contravening. “No! It’s just awkward because he’s been looking here the whole time.” Scarlett waved her hand to him. “Hi!” she yelled. I pulled her arm and walked away so that we could avoid his look then Rachel followed.

                “Stop it, Kwiatkowski!” I murmured. “You’re embarrassing me.”

                She cackled. “You don’t want to look stupid in front of him.”

                “Wait, Kristen.” Rachel was peeking in my hair. “What’s up with the braid? It’s cold. Aren’t you freezing? It’s better if you just straighten up your hair, and you look pale. Why don’t you put blushes and lipstick?”

                “Oh, maybe that guy was glancing at me because I look dull.”

                “Yeah, maybe you should go to my room and get my makeup in my table beside my bed.  And, can I borrow your iPhone? We love to take pictures.”

                “Okay, sure. I’ll be back by a minute.” I handed her my phone.

 

I go upstairs to Scarlett’s room where the walls were painted reddish brown where it looks like an adult’s bedroom. Mrs. Kwiatkowski wanted their house to be formalized. Maybe Scarlett was obliged to have that kind of room. The heater was on in her room so I took off my jacket and now wearing a loose gray shirt. I took the makeup kit on the table and go to her bathroom.

                “What’s wrong with my braided hair?” I talked to myself through the mirror. I fixed my hair and combed it. I swayed it to straighten it up because the braid made my hair wavy. I put some foundation, blushed my cheeks on, a black eye liner, pinkish peach lipstick, and then a lip gloss. After putting makeup, I stared myself at the mirror. It’s kinda funny because it’s my first time to see myself with prettify stuffs all over my face. I did some wacky shots in the mirror and pretend that I’m a 2x2 model, which I’m very sure that a lot of girls do whenever they are alone in the bathroom. I smile, I blink, I stunned my smile, put my hands on my hips, and I took one of Scarlett’s French perfume and posed in the mirror like I’m endorsing it. I’m looking at myself like I’m a b***h�"having that self-confidence like assuredly that a chicken could bore eggs without the help of an opposite sex.

                I was in love with my feature then suddenly, my hair rose up. I saw a black figure behind the bathtub curtain. I paused and stared at the dark reflection in the mirror. I should be running right now but I’m frozen solid. Then a hand touched the curtain and for the second thought, I knew he/she would open the curtain so I faced to it, covered my face with my right hand while my left hand telling STOP, and I screamed. AAAAAHHHHH!

                “What are you doing?” a voice asked.

                I looked at him through the middle of my point finger and the f**k-you finger. S**t, he’s the golden brown haired guy. I moved on my embarrassment and pretend that nothing happened. “Oh, I, uh, sorry, I thought, it was a, uh, you know, I’m just surprised.” I stammered.

                 “You think I’m a kind of murderer like in Scream?” he smiled chummily�"finally. Now I’m implicit that he’s not a guy-with-a-knife.

                I sniggered. “Yeah, very much like that. What are you doing here? Had you seen my pictorial faces?”

                “No,” Thank God. “I should be going to Slater’s room and I ended up in his sister’s. When I heard someone coming in I hid on the bathtub, and I thought it was Scarlett, but I peeked outside the curtain and I saw it’s you.”

                “Oh, that’s why. Scarlett and Rachel told me that I was pale so she suggested that I should put makeup on. And they, didn’t like my braided hair, so I removed it. Maybe that’s the reason why you’re staring me in the backyard. You find me like a corpse or a cause of zombie apocalypse.”

                    I fixed Scarlett’s makeup and combed my hair. “I guessed I should go back downstairs. I told Scarlett and Rachel I’ll be back in a minute and nice to meet you.” I left him in the bathroom and when I opened room’s door, “Its lock.” I told him. He also tried to open the door and slammed it. “F**k.” He said. “Someone locked the door outside.” He sounded nerveless. I took my jacket in the bathroom and searched for my phone in the pockets. Then I distinctly remembered, “Damn it!” I shouted. “How could I contact my friends or Mr. Kwiatkowski to open the door when I allowed Scarlett to borrow my phone?” I lied on the bed. “What a f*****g life! I rarely able to have fun with my friends and in my life and this am what I end up. Gosh, dad will undeniably kill me.” He sat on the bed next to me. “Do you and your dad have a rough relationship? And why’d you infrequently have fun?”I glared at him and think how this guy knew what I’m going through. “Yeah,” I sighed. “My chief police dad kept on prompting and prompting me to study well. He would dispatch me if I haven’t graduated as a valedictorian or simply if I didn’t maintain being the top of the class since the first grade. He wasn’t that smart or expert or genuine. I don’t know why dad kept on encouraging me to be that top-of-the world girl. Dad is only brainiac when it comes to laws and believer in his beliefs where sometimes not approved. He didn’t believe on something he never saw or feel. People kept on expecting you to be the person you are before and they avoid you in doing things they think that’s not-so-you.”

                I laughed out loud�"without deductive reason. And I’m confident on myself that I’m already crazy and outlander. Then I say while giggling, “I’m stuck in my friend’s room with a guy that I don’t even know. Literally, that I don’t know. What’s your name? Do you have a name?”

                 He chuckled at me. “I’m Dylan. Dylan Laurence.”

                I sat up. “I’m Kristen, nice to meet you Dylan Laurence.” I gave my hand but he didn’t shake it.

                “You don’t have a surname?” Dylan said, jokingly.

                “Of course, I have!” I answered, quickly. “It’s Coleman. My full name is Kristen Cody Coleman. Tell me about your story, I told you what I’m fighting for. How about you? I love listening in people’s stories. It’s also a way to let the time pass and get over that we’re stuck in Scarlett’s room and wait for someone to open us up.”

                Dylan hesitated to answer. We stared at each other for seconds and he looked down, maybe thinking about what he supposed to say. But I kept on gazing at him.

                Oh my God, he’s so hot. My mind whispered.

                Shut up.

                Scarlett was right. The winter’s turning into summer.

                Pissed off!

                “I’m taking Business Management,” he started narrating and my eyes were still attached unto him. “I want to own a coffee shop someday.”

                “I love coffees and teas.” I added.

                “I’m working as barista in CityGrounds Coffee Bar. I worked for myself and I pay my studies.”

                “Why is that?” I asked. “Where are your mom and dad?”

                “They separated when I’m ten. I was left with my dad then I had no idea where my mom was. I don’t know if I have half siblings from her new husband. I don’t know if she’s alive. Honestly, I became a rebel after mom left. I never knew and never cared about my dad’s feelings. He faithfully wishes that mom would come back again, and he worked hard to support my studies and I just threw it away in the trash. Then he died when I supposed to be in college. That’s why I ended up as a working student. Until now, people around me think I’m still a rebel. I’m not that vicious guy anymore.” Dylan said like he sounded that he’s finally got over it and ready to face the world alone.          “So, how old are you now? I know you have to skip school so that you could have money to pay tuition in a university.” My voice became smaller that I didn’t expect.

                “Twenty six.” Dylan answered. “It’s funny, right?” he chuckled without merriness. “I’m still in college�"working and studying.”

                “It’s not an embarrassment.” I sat closer to him and put my chin on his shoulder. “The best thing that life can teach you is to learn from your mistakes.” I found it unbelievable that Dylan was already twenty six. He’s capable to date Ms. Madison. But in my sight, he looked like nineteen to twenty one.

                  Dylan touched my left cheek and our faces were inch apart. His forehead reached mine. Then we’re kissing. As his lips touched mine, Kwiatkowski’s heater was useless anymore. Wow, I met this boy in not less an hour. I barely knew his birthday or where he lives. But somehow I knew his life and I knew what how he became happy and left out and get back again. Then suddenly Dylan’s smooch became harder in a way that I don’t like currently. He’s opening my mouth but I hesitated. “Dylan . . .” I stopped. He kissed me again, I mean, now we’re making out. He pushed me down on the bed and now he’s on top of me. “Dylan, no,” I murmured. It wasn’t romantic like it was few minutes ago. We weren’t hooking up or something. He’s just making out with me and the difference was that I don’t like it. Then Dylan’s lips reached my neck. After five seconds, he paused. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. Dylan sat up and pulled me up. I covered myself with my jacket and tried to open the door. I twisted the doorknob, “the door’s open, Dylan.” I faced him. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He followed.

                “Where have you been?” Rachel asked and handed my phone as I’m back in the party. “You missed how the soccer players threw us in the pool! It’s freezing! Ms. Madison loved to be thrown up�"especially by the college guys. Do you want to experience it, too? Josh Hemsworth could to it for you! But your makeup will be lost again and you’ll look paler again and you would go back to Scarlett’s room again and . . .”

                “�"no, I’m fine. I would never back to Scarlett’s room again, even though the heater’s on. Where’s that girl, anyway?” she pointed through the corner of the pool. Scarlett was lying in the arms of six basketball players including Josh and her ex-crush, Kevin Allen. He’s the last love of Scarlett. The poor girl was dumped in the middle of the game between Group A and B of the Lincoln Park High School. Every time she saw Kevin walking the hallway, she always left me and Rachel then entertained him. Like, do you want to have lunch together; my mom loves to invite you in our dinner tonight; I could do your assignment in algebra; do you want to have some tournaments with other schools? Because I could contact my mom and dad and we could pay the finances; unfortunately, Kevin wasn’t pleased on Scarlett’s offers.

                “ONE, TWO,” they counted as Scarlett was being pumped. “THREE!” she was thrown and they clapped their hands. The cheerleaders were doing stunts and twists in the air.

                “Kristen!” Scarlett pointed as she covered herself by a towel. “She would love to have a try!” Slater’s friends approached me. “Come on!” they called. “No,” I protested, “it’s cold!” I moved away from them.” “Come on, girl!” a half-naked-guy-who-I-wondered-if-he-wasn’t-freezing-and-Slater’s-friend said. “No,” I yelled but Rachel and Scarlett kept on pushing me.

                “Oh! Hey, Laurence.” He said. Dylan was walking right through us. “Can you please this girl to be catapult to Slater’s pool?” he favoured, jovially. “Kristen doesn’t know how to swim, Chris.” Dylan cut off Chris’s arm on my shoulder. “Oh my god, oh my god, how did you know Kristen doesn’t know to swim?” Scarlett asked. “It doesn’t matter.” Dylan answered. “For the mean time, I suggest to throw that girl instead.”  He pointed at Ms. Madison. “I love to!” Ms. Madison ran towards us. “Are you serious? That girl had been used for eight times!” Dylan nodded. “Yeah, I know she loves to be thrown�"especially by you, guys.”

                Dylan dragged me distantly from them. “Maybe you should go home by now. Contact your dad so that he could drive you home.” He suggested. “Yeah,” I answered. “I want to study by now.” I took my phone and called dad’s office in Chicago Police Department. A lady answered the phone.

                “Chief Officer Coleman’s office, how can we help you?” she said.

                “Uh, is my dad there?” I asked.

                “Oh, hi, Kristen, your dad is off to go to the City Hall. Is there anything you need, sweetie? I could tell your dad about it later.”

                “You mean dad couldn’t fetch me in Attorney Kwiatkowski’s residence?”

                “Oh, sorry, honey. Your dad couldn’t. I suggest Attorney Kwiatkowski could offer you a ride home or I would call your mom or . . .”

                “�"no, no, it’s okay. I have a friend to drive me home. Thanks.” Then I hung up. Now, how could I go home without dad? Scarlett’s house was outside of Streeterville.

                “So, your dad couldn’t come.” Dylan said. “And you tell whoever-you-talked-to that there’s a friend that would drive you home.”

                “That’s a lie. I could go home by myself but if I told dad about it he would never allow me to stay night outside.” I said, courageously.

                “Oh, yeah that’s a fantastic idea.”

                “Yup, that really is.” I started walking away from him.

                “The idea is that I’m coming with you.”

                “No, you won’t.”

                “Yeah, I will.”

                “Sure, dad will kill you�"especially when I told him about what you just did.” His joking face became serious. “I just want you to be home safe.”

                We walked home together without having a conversation. Dylan was behind me and I didn’t mind to stare back at him. But I wanted to. He walked with hands on his pockets and me, just walking and watching stores’ light signs. I wondered if he’s staring at me, not because I’m dreamy, or maybe he’s staring at the lights like I do. I want to start chatting with Dylan. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to start. My mind kept on querying, why he kissed you? Did he really mean it? He didn’t know you well, why do you think he likes you just because he make out with you? Do you love him? Because you didn’t get mad at him. I tried to keep silent�"just not minding what my brain whispering.

                I tried to look back at Dylan. He was looking at the streetlights but when he noticed that I’m staring at him, I glanced away.

                It took us forty minutes to walk. When I saw dad’s police car outside the house, I told Dylan that it’s okay for him until the house beside us.

                Then I finally talked. “Uh, thanks for accompanying me.”

                “I insist.” He smiled. “And, I’m sorry about what I did. Sorry.”

                I sighed. “I forgot to inform you that it’s my first kiss.” I beamed. “Don’t worry, Dylan. I won’t tell dad about it. You do not deserve to be in jail. I hope we’ll meet again.”

                “We will meet again, Kristen.” He said. “I promise.”

                “Good Night.”