Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 47

KIAN

16 years old

Trent slides into the seat beside me in science class, and I bite my bottom lip to hold in the smile that wants to blossom on my face. We both agreed it would be for the best if people don’t know about our relationship right now. Not only would it bring drama, it would also get back to my dad, and I do not need him knowing. Life is finally going well for me, and the last thing I need is for him to come in and mess it all up.

Trent bumps his leg against mine, trying to draw my attention away from the board at the front of the classroom. Our teacher always puts hints up about what our experiment will be for the week, and I like trying to figure it out before he announces it.

“Ki,” Trent whispers, nudging me again.

“Yeah?” I cut my eyes over to him and watch as he fidgets in his seat. His fist is tightly closed around something.

“I have something for you.”

“What is it?” I have something for him, too, but I was planning to wait until after school so we could soak in the moment together.

One official month we’ve been boyfriends. It’s flown by. Our days are spent after school talking about our plans for the future, what we want to do, where we want to live. He’s been writing me poems, too, and I love unfolding each and every note. It’s our secret, to protect and nurture.

He says, “A surprise. I’ll give it to you after class.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Then why did you have to tell me about it now? You know I’m not patient. I want to know.” I pin him with a look, and he smiles, showing off the gap between his two front teeth.

“That’s exactly why I did it. To build suspense.”

Our teacher leaves his desk and walks to the front of the classroom to stand in front of the chalkboard. “Okay, class. For today’s lesson we will be…”

An hour and two failed experiments later, we’re finally dismissed from class. The warm air rustles through my curls, blowing them in my face. Trent pushes them back and tucks them behind my ear while we walk back to the main building. I brush the back of my hand against his, thankful that everyone else left class before us so they don’t see how close we are.

“You jerk, my hands were shaking so bad,” I tell him. “Give me my gift now.” It’s true, my hands were shaking so bad during the experiment that I knocked over the beakers. Our teacher made a joke about me having butter fingers, but the truth is my heart was beating out of my chest with anticipation.

Trent chuckles and hikes his bag higher on his shoulders while he walks. Not acknowledging my demand for my gift.

“I’ll give you yours if you’ll give me mine,” I say.

His dark brown eyes cut toward me, the bright sunlight reflecting off them and giving them an amber hue. “What did you get me?”

“Nuh-uh. Give me mine first, and I’ll give you yours.”

He stops walking, so I stop too. We need to make this quick so I’m not late for my next class, but at the same time, I don’t want to rush the moments we spend together. My fear of disappointing others comes second to my fear of disappointing Trent.

He reaches in his front pocket and balls his fist around the gift, then holds it out to me with his hand downturned. I lift my hand up to meet his. A flutter of thread lands in my palm. A mix of green and brown.

Trent’s face pinkens as I flit my gaze from his eyes to the thing in my hand. “I know it’s not much, but… It’s a bracelet. I spent all day at the craft store looking for one that matched your eyes.”

My heart gives a pitiful thump. The green is my eyes, and the brown is his eyes.

“It’s so we can always be together,” he says. “It sounds super cheesy, I know–”

I cut him off by slamming my lips against his, savoring the way his mouth meets mine. But I pull back quickly, realizing my mistake. I jerk my head around to see if anyone saw. There’s nobody outside, but my exhale is shaky with panic.

“Oh, oh no. I’m so sorry Trent.”

He brushes the backs of his fingers across my face, gently soothing me with his touch. “It’s okay. No one’s out here. No one saw,” he reassures me.

And I have to believe him, because he makes it easy to trust him with his words and with his actions. He’s the best person I’ve ever met, and no matter what happens, I hope I’ll always have him in my life.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you to your next class. And maybe for lunch, we can eat outside on the bench. I brought those granola bars you love so much, and I grabbed a box of chocolates I thought you might like.”

I’m tempted to kiss him again, but I shouldn’t. I should wait until we get into the privacy of his bedroom.

“You’re making it really hard to not kiss you,” I remark.

His eyes drop down to my lips. I lick them in response, and his eyes darken. My pulse thunders in my throat, and I feel an ache inside me. Begging me to give in and stake my claim on him for all to see. So everyone will know that Trent Ryan Matthews belongs to me.

“You can kiss me all you want later. But I was promised a gift.” He drops his hand from my face, and I already miss having his skin pressed against mine. When we get older, we’re going to live together so I never have to worry about being apart from him, even for a minute.

I take my bag off my shoulder, feeling shy all of a sudden. He did so much for me, and what I’m giving him feels like nothing in comparison.

I carefully take the book out of my bag. I pass it to him, and he stares at it. Now I know how he felt when I didn’t know what to say about the gift he got me.

“It’s a poetry book. It’s not anything super fancy, because I didn’t have a lot of money. I found the prompts online and printed them out. The outside is just cardstock, but I painted it with marigolds and cosmos on the front since it’s our birthday flower...” I trail off, because I’m rambling.

I’m embarrassed. He’s not going to want some silly little gift. I couldn’t even actually afford to buy him anything. I had five dollars, and that’s what I used to pay for the cover and the paint. The librarian was nice enough to let me use the printer and the paper cutter to make the inside pages.

“It’s perfect, Freckles. Absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to use it.” He flips through the pages, and on the last inside cover is a picture I drew horribly. Two stick figures inside of a heart, with T & K above them.

“I love it,” he says, staring at me. He carefully closes the book and tucks it under one arm. Then he takes my free hand in his, and we walk together to our next class.

The two of us against the world.