Love Me Love Me (English)

11

Blaze

It was 11:18. I was waiting for Amelia and Poppy while I tried to order an iced tea at the Tropical counter. I couldn't stand being alone in the middle of so many people. I started breathing faster, involuntarily. I tried to make eye contact with the barista, but he was too busy serving a group of scantily-clad girls.

I felt someone push my shoulder. "Oh, sorry, didn't see you there." Idiotic chuckles followed. It was Marvin and Jackson.

Looking at Jackson's lips was like getting elbowed in the stomach.

"What's your deal?" I asked, rubbing my back as a stoned Marvin giggled.

Jackson smiled in a familiar way. His mouth stretched back to reveal perfect teeth as he played with his lip piercing with his tongue. Then he put his big, warm hand on my bicep. "Don't have too much fun alone, Blaze."

He licked his pierced lip and left me stunned. All I could do was watch him walk away from me.

I promised myself that I wasn't here to torture myself. Jackson could be here with whomever he wanted. It wasn't my business. I pulled my phone, which had been vibrating like crazy, out of my jeans pocket.

"Blaze?" It was Amelia.

"I've been waiting for you for ten minutes. Where are you? I have to be home in half an hour." I groaned.

"My brother's being a pain. Hold on, we're coming."

"Don't leave me in the lurch," I spat, then hung up. Finally my iced tea came, the only good part of the night. When I turned around, I almost got goose bumps.

Tiffany wasn't there, but Sammy sat on the couch with him. When Jackson let a girl kiss his neck, he had the unhealthy habit of staring at me. I don't know what kind of sick game he was playing, but at that moment I felt like I was going to die.

I almost ran to the bathroom.

It was decorated in a vintage style like the rest of the game room, and there were too many people inside. I barely made it to the sink.

Quit harassing me.

I only repeated it to myself, but I never had the courage to say it to his face.

"Get out of the way, can't you see that I need to get through?"

A tall, tattooed guy got annoyed as I accidentally bumped into him. I always looked down when I was surrounded by annoying drunk people. The fear that someone would crack a joke that went too far was directly proportional to the likelihood that I'd burst into tears.

"Sorry."

Flustered, I moved backward and bumped into his friend's chest. I was trapped.

"Shit! You spilled my drink, watch where you're going, dickhead!" someone screamed.

I didn't know who said it because my brain was foggy, and my rib cage constricted with a spasm. I was about to have a panic attack.

"Who are you calling dickhead?" a voice thundered.

I turned around and saw Jackson grab the tattooed guy and shove him.

I didn't know how to react. He was about to start a fight, and I couldn't breathe.

"Let's go. I don't wanna fight with a bunch of kids," one of the lunatics said, looking at us contemptuously.

I was petrified. My side was crushed against the sink, and I grasped the ceramic edge.

"Did you just defend me?" I gasped breathlessly. It was just me and him.

"I didn't mean to," grumbled Jackson, while he adjusted his jacket collar in the mirror. He checked himself out again, and I couldn't blame him. If I had his body, I'd do the same.

"But you did," I added, with a bit of courage.

"Pathetic loser," he muttered under his breath, untangling his blond hair with one hand. Hearing him utter those words wasn't new, but I still felt them twist a knife in my heart. It hurt. It wasn't just the words that he used toward me; it was the vicious way that he looked at me. He scorned me as if he was looking into a mirror capable of revealing his true nature. He didn't accept that reflection. His gaze was one of denial.

"Because that's what you are, Blaze. A pathetic loser," he repeated, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

I wanted to prove him wrong, but I couldn't. I really was pathetic, and he knew it. I had been since that first rainy day at summer camp two years ago when he kissed me and I fell in love with him.

"Stop screwing with me."

I screamed it, but my brain capsized into disconnected thoughts out of a brief sense of guilt for daring to confront him.

Jackson ignored my pleas, flung the stall door open, and pushed me inside. My back slammed against a dirty, moist tile wall as I lost myself in his ocean-blue eyes. I swallowed, and the ground under my feet got slippery. I tried to move one step forward, but he turned around and lunged at me. He put both his hands on my chest, holding me back against the wall.

I stared at his lips. I couldn't help myself. He made me feel so weak that I thought I was gonna pass out.

I hated him. I wanted him. And no matter how much he tried to hide it, there was a silent pull between us that wouldn't be severed because of a few insults.

"You pissed me off, Blaze."

Then it was just his lips against mine.

Kissing Jackson was different. The only girl I'd ever kissed in my life was Tiffany during a game of spin the bottle, but Jackson didn't kiss like she did. It wasn't a soft kiss. His tongue wasn't smooth; it was rough. And his hands had the same roughness. I shut my eyes when his metal piercing made my lips quiver as his tongue met mine in an unstoppable whirlwind. I was so caught up in the heat of the moment that I almost didn't realize how rock-hard Jackson's body felt against my stomach.

After that kiss at summer camp, for a moment I thought I was wrong, but then I didn't have any more doubts. I didn't like girls. He was the one I wanted, the six foot three football player who shot me furtive glances at half time.

With labored breath, Jackson tore his lips from mine, releasing me from the hold of his solid weight.

Incredulous but pleasantly confused, I brought my fingers to touch my lips. I had frozen against the wall during the entire kiss. I hadn't even had the courage to caress his jaw as he put his hands all over me.

"What the fuck are you looking at now?" he growled.

"I—"

Jackson flung the door open and left, employing his greatest talent: leaving me breathless once again.