Two

            They all think that love is always brought by choices, that you’re somehow selected by some unknown energy to be with that special person for the rest of your goddamn life because that’s what you have planned �" or anyone planned, for that matter. But no one had ever told us that it can sometimes be unexpected.

            The thing about love is you’ll never going to get it unless you’re really dying to. And that time, when a blonde-haired girl came into my life �" literally pulled me with her own force �" I wasn’t that desperate for an infatuation or anyone to fall for. Not until I realized that I actually am.

            Here in the town of Yankton, the people never seem to rest when it comes to their yachts. They talk about how they can make the floorboards better, the paint, turning the fabric of the couch waterproof, and everything else that their own yacht needs renovation for �" even when it’s already perfectly and flawlessly built by the yacht gods.

            There’s no family in this place who doesn’t own a yacht. If there is one, then quite possibly they must have owned one before or one of their second-degree relatives does.

            And that includes me.

            I don’t remember any dinner with my folks without choking and laughing at the broken flagpole of our yacht or the empty cabinet of beef jerky and cheese strings that Grampy has always forgotten to refill. He isn’t the man who goes out for groceries every Sunday, you know.

            I was leaning my worn-out arms on the railing of the wooden pier. The traveling hours of my afternoon was spent cleaning up the full-on interior of The Liberator, which, on Mom’s and Grampy’s point of views, is a total yacht emergency. Every sunset in South Dakota has often captivated me to stay and watch. Like a show in a cliffhanger, and the audience couldn’t take their eyes off the screen and their butts are one hundred and one percent glued to the edge of their seats to see the next big thing coming.

            It usually ends with the long whisper of the wind and then the final act would commence as the sky of darkness blankets over Yankton like a big black cloud, careening its way until there’s no light left aside from the boats and houses nearby, the lighthouse across, and the sprinkles of stars right above. And that’s where the closing of curtains would come into action, where I shut my eyes close and sniff the salty breeze of the Missouri River.

            Yet that day, when the month of December was drawing to a close, it ended with something else �" an out of the ordinary kind of curtain call that no one like me would expect. I never realized that what ended the sunset was a beginning of something new.

            It was a pull, stronger than either of the magnetic poles of the earth. Next was a riveting jolt of electricity, running through every stream of my veins. It was static. And I knew for a moment that I was, in fact, being held by a girl. She dragged me to the starting steps of the seaport and through the neverending row of excellently reconditioned boats, speedboats, and of course, yachts. I actually wanted to skid for a halt and ask her what the hell was wrong and why she was hauling me towards who knows where.

            But her feet seemed to command her to take a rest and she was the one who gave herself the inquisition. “Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me?” She wasn’t looking at me, but at some distance that I didn’t have the chance to locate. Then her eyes landed on mine and my heart had initiated a thumping sound against my ribs and I feel it trying to break out of its cage. I crossed my arms, hiding the tiny and uncontrolled movement of my crazy upper limb. I spoke, “Umm, you just attempted to kidnap me.”

            “I’m so sorry. But please understand, you need to help me right now.” There was something desperate in her voice that made me think she’s an actor of some sort. But she grasped both of my arms, looking like she’s trying to make me calm and force me to be still. So I’ve thought the unlike.

            She really was getting hopeless at all.

            “I want you to act like my boyfriend. I beg you. My parents are here for the holidays and they’ve been expecting for a good change,” she had said.

            Unsolicited thoughts were welcomed by my head all of a sudden. I imagined myself saying yes and okay and I’ll do it and I’d follow her to wherever we need to go and I’d end up in a huge bag and being carried by two other suspects. Then somehow, in the mist of everything, I’d be found floating along the river. Dead.

            But even as I thought of those negligible things, I had nodded and agreed. And the flowing shock of vigor comes back to me again as I glanced at her engaging smile before continuing us to a yacht, just eleven boats away from The Liberator.

            And right before we both stepped into it, she turned her heel and faced me. “By the way, my name’s Millie.”

            And that’s where everything else started. The initials of our blossoming attraction, I have never been infatuated like it before �" it was right then and there. Her father had pulled out a seat for me and her mother had cooked dinner. Millie was rather silent and reserved and all I did was to act like I’ve known her for months and years, I have no idea how long but my acting skills were getting pretty much good and even better by the minute.

            I recalled how Samantha, her mother, was growing inquisitive about my father, the man who originally owned our family’s only boat. She had asked me if I’ve ever met him and I shook my head. She was clearly sorry about it and all I said was, “That’s fine. I’ve got Millie around.”

            Like a shooting star that have quickly crossed the night dome, like a winning lottery ticket found waving under a chair, like an acceptance letter from one of the best schools in America, or like a sudden death of a beloved celebrity �" my words were beyond unforeseen and unanticipated. It came right out of my lips, just like that. Easier than I thought it would be. And from across the red-covered table, I’ve caught sight of her mouth gaping open for a teeny microsecond and she was back eating her beefsteak like I haven’t mentioned anything surprising. However, her parents were both in a gradual state of hysteria, their grins secretly saying that they are in no doubt proud of their daughter for bumping into a guy like me.

            I couldn’t tell whether Millie was generally flushed by the situation she’s stuck in or satisfied that I was great in portraying my role, or maybe at least she was also performing herself. She was the image of an irresistible tomato �" blood rushing up her cheeks (and face), with her knitted green bonnet covering her whole skull.

            “So, tell me something about you, my boy.” Thomas had stated. And from there, my mouth doesn’t seem to stop from talking about who I am and everything else needed in the conversation. Wrong pizza deliveries, the falling of The Liberator’s flagpole, afternoon archery sessions with Daniel, how I got my name from my father’s favorite character in Northern Tides, midnight calls from someone who addresses himself as the king of Herondale or whatever that land is, and other inconsequential yet entertaining facts about me.

            When the clock in their common room had stroke to nine, everyone’s plates were wiped out clean, with only leftover dabs of gravy staining them. Thomas had stood up and both of the girls as well. Samantha had begun fixing the table for tidying and Thomas whispered to me that I better go home before my mother and my grandfather calls for the town’s security to look for me. But I refused, reaching out to the wine glasses and placing them on the sink. Samantha had tugged on my arm and told me that she will be okay cleaning up the dining table and for me to go home as soon as I can.

            I greeted them good night and thanked them for the wonderful dinner and Millie led me out of the swaying boat. Outside the warm stillness of the yacht, the chilly winter air had embraced my skin like a series of indemnification. Millie faced me immediately, looking afraid that she might lose me into the darkness. What I didn’t know that time was I lost her instead.

            From the gleaming beam of the moon lit high abaft the cluster of grayish clouds, her eyes were in deep blue with specks of green raveling in the center. This was the first time I’ve ever recognized her effortless beauty. The soft strands of gold tickling the sides of her face and the genuine smile forming her delicate lips were making me realize that love can pop out of nowhere.

            She was saying something, though my ears were in complete shut off, like my brain had cut the wires connecting to my hearing. I didn’t know what was happening then or why the world had appeared to stop �" and even the time. The next thing I know is I smacked my lips into hers very much slowly and as carefully as possible. I was in a whole new place filled with euphoria and intoxication, wanting more of this kiss and needing more of her. I was terrified to let go and the picture of it was beginning to be horrifying �" as it is right now.

            But I was able to. And the moment I created a small space between us, I saw how her eyes were widened in a flowing astonishment, as though they were shouting words at me like what are you doing?

            I answered in a swift before she could even mutter her question. “I thought I’m still acting.” I smile my million-dollar smile, the one that had been used to send almost thousands of girls run over the edge of the port and dive into the pool of eternal bliss, because the Philip Handler of John Copper High just sent them a grin he barely uses.

            For the first time ever in the totality of my seventeen years, there was finally a girl who is entirely and oddly immune to my charms. “You can stop now. Thank you.”

            “Actually, I can’t, because they’re still watching us.” I tilted my head to the couple’s direction and stretched out another one of my smiles. Samantha and Thomas suddenly went back inside the yacht, obviously mortified by their unwanted actions of eavesdropping.

            Then I noticed myself feeling the electrifying impact of Millie’s hand making contact with my cheek, moving it to face her again. “Look, thank you for tonight. I appreciate that you went along with it,” she whispered, her eyes taking peeks of any motion inside the boat every now and then.

            “Well, you’re only pulled by a girl to ask you to be her pretend boyfriend once, right?”

            “I guess.” There was a long, not much awkward pause. She looked down at her feet and back to me again. “So you do archery?”

            I nodded.

            “And you deliver pizzas on Fridays?” her shoulders had moved upwards, turning her reckless attitude to a shy and demure and totally different alter-ego.

            “Yup,” exaggerating my pronunciation and making the sound of p to pop.

            “And your name is Philip.” It was more of a sentence than a question.

            “I’m doubtless.”

            “You weren’t lying?” A skeptic tone was identifiable in her voice. “I didn’t. I can’t find any reasons why I should lie about myself. It doesn’t mean that you’re acting you should say your words as told from a script,” I replied profoundly.

            She’d cleared her throat. “By the way, sorry for hurting you a while ago. I think I was born with a hard grip. I apologize for the kidnapping, too.”

            “Don’t mind that,” I said, waving off a hand in expression. “You’re actually not good at it anyway. No offense.”

            “None taken,” she had nonchalantly responded.

            “So can I kidnap you now instead?”

            “I said you can stop acting now.” It was her turn to cross her arms and shift her weight on either leg, sounding irritated by my nonstop theatre role-playing.

            “Who said that I’m still acting?”

            And that was it �" the way we met.