PART 8
This part is in Kunj's POV
I flopped back on my bed in my small bedroom at Jacques's house. I stuffed my pillow beneath my head and glared at the ceiling. Kissing Twinkle had been a major mistake.
I couldn't figure out what had come over me. The artist in me had appreciated the view, the way the setting sun had cast a golden halo around her...
But the male in me had been drawn as if there was no other girl on earth.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
I'd been like a mosquito hovering just beyond a bug zapper, and then suddenly it's lured in and...zap! It's all over. In that one second everything changes.
The mosquito is burned to a crisp. I was a little more fortunate. But not by much.
Twinkle had definitely zapped me.
I jerked her pink hat off my head. I'd forgotten to give it back to her, and once I was safely away in my room, I'd put it on. I couldn't explain why. It just made me feel close to her.
That closeness I definitely did not need.
Sitting up, I tossed the hat so it landed on the bedpost and did a little twirl. I grabbed my backpack from where I'd dropped it earlier at the end of the bed. I jerked open the zipper and pulled out my sketch pad. I shuffled through the pages until I found the sketch I'd drawn on the hilltop.
The lines were perfect, and not because I'd drawn them perfectly. They were perfect before I ever put them on paper.
The soft curve of Twinkle's mouth. The sweep of her thick, auburn lashes.
I knew that with art, it was often the smallest aspect of the work that made the difference. Details were important. Small details the most important.
Because she had a cute nose.
And an adorable laugh. And eyes that sparkled constantly.
And a wonderful sense of humor. I couldn't remember when I'd last laughed. But when she had told me that she was so rarely wrong...Her comment wasn't that funny...but the way she'd said it as if she honestly believed it but understood that it wasn't true at the same time. I couldn't stop myself from bursting out laughing.
I had taken her to hilltop to prove myself. From a particular vantage point, I could draw a captivating sketch of the Eiffel Tower. Instead I found myself enthralled with her.
To the extent that I had wanted to kiss her'desperately. I hadn't expected her lips to be so pliant. So warm. So welcoming. I'd become lost in her. Completely forgetting about my parents' divorce for the first time in weeks.
For the briefest of moments, I wasn't sad anymore. Or unhappy.
My life had been filled with all the colors on an artist's palette.
Whoa! These thoughts were definitely going beyond heavy. Twinkle was a girl from back home. The last one I wanted to kiss.
I did not want a relationship that involved feelings or a girl who managed to arouse fanciful thoughts. Twinkle was definitely not what I needed.
Relationships did not last, and I wasn't going to let a fun, smiling, artistic girl make me believe that they did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Walking rapidly down the street, the cool evening air surrounding me, I knew the signs of panic. I'd felt them when my parents had told me that they were getting a divorce. My life as I'd known it until that moment sort of exploded like a supernova.
Leaving behind a black hole.
I felt like I was free-falling more deeply into that hold. All because I had kissed Twinkle- and more because she had kissed back. She had responded so sweetly. I needed to make sure that she understood that kiss on the hill, given to her during a moment of weakness or insanity or maybe both-meant absolutely nothing.
A sane person would have waited to talk to her at school the next day.
As a panicked person, I felt the need to talk to her that night, that moment, that very second.
She didn't live that far away, and it was close to 8 when I knocked at her house. A woman who I assumed was her host mother opened the door. When I explained who I was, she invited me in, but I didn't want any witnesses to a possibly embarrassing situation.
Outside, I paced in front of the house while she went to get Twinkle. My heart was poundning like the bass drum in a band.
"Hey, what's up?" Twinkle asked as she stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
I halted in midstride. Man, she was cute. It was dark outside, but I could still see those sparkling eyes.
"I just wanted to make sure that you understood that kiss didn't mean anything," I announced.
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the closed door. I felt her eyes boring into me.
"You explained that on the hill," she reminded me.
"That doesn't mean you understood what I was saying," I told her.
"I understood. The kiss meant nothing." She said softly.
I took a step closer. "I'm not interested in a relationship'not with you, not with anyone."
"That's good because I'm not interested in having a relationship with you," she blurted out.
I should have felt relieved. For some strange reason, I was disappointed.
"I plan to date a hundred girls while I'm here," I said, striving to convince myself as much as her.
She uncrossed her arms. "I understand completely," she assured me. "My plan is to become involved with one guy-but a French guy, not a mundane Indian." She took a step closer. "I want to be romanced by someone who invented the word. And the French did that."
"Good!" I snapped. "I'm glad to hear that."
"The kiss meant absolutely nothing to me," she reiterated.
NOTHING? That's what I wanted, right? I wanted it to mean nothing yet those words didn't provide me with the comfort I had hoped for.
"Excellent. So we can go on with our lives as if nothing happened on that hill," I told her.
"Absolutely," she stated.
I nodded, but my heart was thundering. I felt like an absolute fool as I turned on my heel and began walking home.
The kiss had meant nothing to her. I was apparently the only one affected by it. I couldn't figure out why I was so miserable.
Suddenly I was lonelier than I'd ever been in my entire life-and that was pretty dadgum lonely.
Facebook (Twinkle's POV)
Twinkle: Guys, I have a hypothetical question. Is it possible to enjoy kissing a guy whom you don't like?
Chinky: I've never kissed a guy, but I guess it might be possible if he was a good kisser.
Priya: If you don't like him, then why is his mouth close enough to yours to even kiss?
Twinkle: I said it was hypothetical.
Priya: did Kunj kiss you?
Twinkle: what are you, psychic?
Priya: Oh my gosh. He did, didn't he?
Twinkle: It wasn't a real kiss.
Chinky: describe a false kiss.
Grr. I wished I hadn't desperately needed help trying to understand what I'd felt on that hilltop.
Twinkle: Okay. So maybe it was a real kiss. But it didn't mean anything.
Priya: but you liked it?
I took a deep breath. These were my two best friends. I could admit anything to them.
Twinkle: Yeah.
Chinky: What are you going to do?
Twinkle: try to forget it. He's completely wrong for me. He's not French; he's not romantic. And worse, he's from home. He is most definitely not my goal for this year in Paris.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So...that wasn't a good follow up to the last part! 😭
Please do let me know how it was though!
Edited by MaliciousAngel - 8 years ago
DO NOT COPY THIS POST AS THIS IS EXCLUSIVE TO INDIA FORUMS
CID
