Chapter 16
sixteen
JULIAN
7 YEARS EARLIER - AGE 17
I watched from the ground as she carefully scaled her roof. It was a little after one in the morning, and her mom would have killed us if we were caught, but it was officially our one year anniversary, and I couldn’t wait another second to see her.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, I backed her up against the tree and kissed her deep enough for her to lose her breath. “I missed you.” It had only been a day since I’d seen her, but I genuinely missed her.
“You had me scale my roof to tell me that?” She chuckled between our kisses.
“Not exactly.” I pulled away to show the box hidden in my pocket. “I figured you wanted your anniversary gift, but I guess I’ll just go home.” I walked off with a cocky smirk, but she pulled my arm back. “Hold it. Let me see it!” she squealed.
My breath staggered as I revealed a silver-studded J necklace. Everyone knew Mila always had a C necklace dangling from her neck since we were kids, and she was devastated when it broke. I decided to replace it, but selfishly, I wanted her to have my initial around her neck instead.
“Julian, it’s beautiful.” She gawked at the jewelry. “I can’t take this. It must’ve cost you all your savings.”
I looked down at my feet. “They’re not real diamonds, Mila. I can save up to get you something better and?—-”
She dragged her finger against my lips to get me to stop. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Any doubts I had disappeared when she held it out in front of me. “Can you put it on for me?”
I kept her blue-eyed gaze as I clamped it around her neck. “One day, I’ll buy you real diamonds, I promise.” I bent down and kissed her collarbone to seal the promise I had every intention of keeping.
“You know I don’t care about that stuff, right?”
I touched a strand of long brown hair that framed her delicate face. “I love you.”
She got on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around my neck. “I love you too.” God, I never got tired of hearing those words. People said your first love was “puppy love”—short-lived and forgettable—but they didn’t know Mila. She’d engraved her name on my heart, and I knew that, if by some unfortunate event, we parted ways, there would never be anyone else.
Her ocean eyes softened as if she’d made a decision I wasn’t in on yet, but I didn’t hesitate to follow when she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the tree she used to climb down from her roof.
“What are we doing?” I whispered.
“You want to come up with me?” I couldn’t do anything but nod; the knot in my throat made it impossible to speak. That was the first time she’d invited me up to her room, so I ran the risk of her mom chasing me out as I followed her up the thick branches and onto the rooftop. Thankfully, Mrs. Vega was a heavy sleeper, so our heavy footsteps didn’t wake her when we passed her bedroom window.
I started to memorize every detail about her room when I climbed over the windowsill and my feet touched her floor—the smell of her sandalwood candle burning, the names of the CDs scattered across her desk, titles of books with worn-out spines that told me those were her favorites. Posters of her favorite artists plastered on her white walls, along with a board full of printed pictures of her and Taylor as kids. I almost felt left out until I picked up the framed picture of us on her desk from our date at the town fair. Seeing her room was like getting a peek at the last unknown piece of Camilla Vega, and I finally had all of her.
The last thing I noticed was behind the door, a pinboard labeled dream board with only three things listed:
1. Go to college in the city
2. Buy the house by the cove
3. Become a writer
I wasn’t sure how, but she still found ways to amaze me. Her dreams weren’t extravagant; all she wanted was a simple yet meaningful life, and I wanted to give her that.
When I finally met her eyes, she admired me with a dreamy glaze I’d never seen before. “What?” She didn’t say another word before slowly stalking over and pulling me into her with an eagerness unfamiliar to both of us. Her hands explored until they found the edges of my shirt, but I stopped her when she tried to lift it about my head.
“Mila, are you sure? You said you wanted to wait.” As eager as I was, the last thing I wanted was for her to wake up the next morning and regret her decision.
Her eyes fell to my lips. “I want it to be you, Julian.” That’s all I needed to hear to recapture her lips and match the urgency of her movements. Contrary to what people thought, I never slept with anyone before Mila, so while I seemed confident on the outside, my stomach was tied in knots the entire time. The way she took command and eased us onto her bed was a side of her I hadn’t seen before. I wanted to see more; I just had to get my shit together.
I slid my ice-cold fingers along the length of her back, then moved to undo the buttons on her shirt, but they kept getting stuck. “Shit, sorry. This is a mood kill.” She stifled her laughter so we wouldn’t wake her mom next door and started leaving trails of kisses down my arms. “It’s just me,” she whispered.
I traced the lines of her perfect face, basking in how I got so lucky before letting everything but her disappear from my mind.
* * *
When the sun greeted us through Mila’s curtains, I had yet to get any sleep. How could I? I was too busy watching her, memorizing the tune of her heart, while imagining a life where I woke up every morning with her sleeping in the hollow of my neck. She had every part of me, and I didn’t want it back.
The soft caress of my hand on her cheek woke her, and I was greeted with her blue eyes. “I thought you’d be gone.”
“And miss seeing your early morning look? Yikes.” I couldn’t help but admire how the sun shone on her bare face, the way her messy brown hair fell across her pillows. Goddamn, she was beautiful. I was fucked. “Can I ask you something?”
She sank more into her mattress and nodded. “It’s about number three on your dream board. You’ve never talked about how you wanted to be a writer.”
There was a distant look on her face as she trailed her fingernails over my bare chest. “I’ve never told anyone, not even Taylor. It’s just a silly dream. The chances of becoming a writer are discouragingly low.” No matter what she said, no one put something on a dream board if they thought it was silly.
“The poem you wrote in English class begs to differ. You even had Damon paying attention, and he hates that class.” If there was one person who could make their dream come true, it was her. She had the drive and passion people craved.
“You really think I could?” I saw her potential, even when she didn’t. I cradled her face in my hand before answering with the whole truth. “I do, and I’ll tell you every day until you think so too.” She crushed her lips against mine before we disappeared under the sheets.