Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
RACHEL
You know what no one warns you about post-graduation?
That you’ll be trapped on a rooftop in SOHO, sipping a mystery concoction from a solo cup, listening to a DJ named Frankie Knuckles, pretending you’re not emotionally imploding while the guy you kissed last night is standing not ten feet away, leaning against the railing, looking like he’s in the middle of a shoot for Tiger Beat magazine.
Clark “I'm Hot, and I know it” Monson.
Why is he leaning like that? Why does he have to look so good?
Clara’s bouncing beside me, shouting over the bass-heavy remix of Shake Your Love like we’re back in the club. She’s already had two cups of this jungle juice and one questionable jello shot handed to her by a guy dressed like a pirate. I’d be concerned, but this is very much the person she is.
“Rachel,” she yells in my ear. “Why aren’t you having fun?”
“Of course, I am,” I reply, plastering on a tight smile. “Nothing says fun like a heatstroke and impending emotional collapse.”
She blinks at me. “Huh?”
“Nothing, great party! Love the vibe,” I answer, not realizing that the last part was said out loud.
My inner self is a chaotic dumpster fire of panic, self-denial, and the sweet smell of sweat. Because Clark is here, and he keeps looking at me. I’m trying to look like I don’t care, but I’m failing miserably. Already dropping one of my drinks that accidentally complimented someone’s white pants.
Who wears white pants to an outdoor party anyway?
I was thankful when the families actually parted ways after the ceremony.
Usually, we’re all one big happy family, but the Monsons wanted time with their kids before Clark leaves for the West Coast to continue his law education at UC Berkley.
At that thought, I swipe at a stray tear that falls from my eye, just thinking of the distance that will be between us all too soon.
I take another sip of my concoction and almost gag. Whoever came up with this mix clearly lost their mind. I’m suddenly thankful for the cup that wound up changing the color of that guy's pants.
“Hey,” is whispered in my ear, and I shudder. My body becomes alive once again with anticipation. Of what, I’m not sure.
Oh, God, no. Oh, God, yes.
I turn, and there he is. Clark.
Close up, he looks like he always has, annoyingly hot, mildly smug, and like he knows exactly how wet my underwear is getting with him in such close proximity.
“Hi,” I finally manage to reply, my voice cracking like a preteen at a middle school talent show.
“Nice party,” he says, sipping his drink, his eyes roaming up and down my body. “Kind of feels like a music video coming to life.”
I laugh, snort, actually. Kill me now.
“Yeah,” I say, “and Frankie here is probably someone’s long lost relative who popped by in their Scooby van and needed something to do tonight.”
Clark chuckles, and suddenly the rooftop feels like it shrunk to a two-foot square.
There’s a pause, a beat, one of those stupid cinematic moments where the world fades into the background, and it’s just you and him and your upcoming very bad choice.
“So,” he starts, eyes eating me up, “are we just going to continue pretending last night didn’t happen?’
Okay, so that’s where this conversation is going.
The Kiss. Capital KISS. The kiss that has been living rent-free in my brain, on constant rewind. No need for the ‘be kind and rewind’ sticker that adorns Blockbuster cassettes.
I’m frozen in time.
“Kiss, what kiss?” I finally manage, trying to play it off. “Are you sure it was me? I think you might’ve been roofied during one of the blackouts at the club.”
Clark raises an eyebrow at me, not buying my charade. “Rachel,” is all he says.
Dammit, damn him. He says my name like it means something to him. That’s cheating.
I sigh and take another long drink from my cup. I’m going to need the alcohol to get through this conversation without ripping his clothes from his body, right in front of everyone.
“Fine, you win. There was a kiss,” I say. “A really good kiss. And maybe we never should have gone there, but it was just such an amazing kind of kiss.”
Clark nods slowly, swallows thickly before replying, “Accurate description.”
We’re both quiet, looking into each other’s souls. The air between us is buzzing, like a rope of electricity trying to snap. Our breaths are getting heavier by the second, and if we don’t break this bond, it’s likely we’ll have a very public display of affection…and likely much more than that.
Finally, I break the coil between us and blurt out, “What are we supposed to do now? Clara would kill us. I’d be buried in a shallow, but glittered, grave, and you’ll be burnt on a stake like the witch trials.”
He smirks again, “She’d probably just be annoyed for a few days and then plan a wedding neither of us would be remotely ready for.”
“Don’t say wedding! I just graduated, and you're leaving for Berkley!”
We both manage to laugh, but can still feel the tension building between us.
“Look,” he says as he steps closer into my bubble. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. I also don’t want it to be the last time it happens.”
His fingers linger over my lips like he’s remembering how they feel. My brain short-circuits, and I lean into them, letting him trace them lightly with his fingertips.
“But,” he adds, “I don’t want to mess up our relationships with Clara. Especially since I’m leaving and it’ll only be you and her.”
And that right there? That’s why I’m screwed. Because he’s not just hot as sin, he’s thoughtful and caring.
I bite my lip, stopping myself from crying. “You’re too kind for your own good, you know that, right? It’s so annoying.”
He laughs, knowing I’m trying to lighten the mood.
“So, what do we do?”
I glance over at Clara, currently rubbing all over a guy who’s actually wearing a full three-piece suit in this heat. She’s not paying any attention to us. Thank goodness.
I look back at Clark, can I? Should I?
“How about we play it cool,” I manage to get out. “We just enjoy the night. Laugh, dance, have some fun.”
“Okay,” he replies, his face morphing into a slow grin, “So, no kissing tonight?”
I narrow my eyes playfully. “Depends on how many more of these mystery drinks I have.” I wink at him and turn.
“Noted.” He laughs from behind and grasps my hips. He begins grinding into me as we dance.
And just like that, we fall into a rhythm solely meant for us.