LUCKY STRIKE - IV

Volunteering has been a huge part of Tristen's life. Ever since she was a kid, her eyes had been opened to what other people lack. Kids being deprived of education, parents not finding a job to pay off the bills, families not having a safe shelter to live in and many other basic essentials.

She used to cry when some kids who looked very thin and with bloated tummies would show up at their events, innocently asking if they accidentally ate puffer fish. Her mom patiently explained it to her and was able to coax a young Tristen with her kindest words.

And that's how she knew that this would be a part of her life. It doesn't matter whether she's on a holiday, wouldn't mind sacrificing her Christmas vacation as long as she can and that it'd fit her schedule because of her prior plans. Swimming outings didn't matter much as Tristen knew her dad would just ask one of his helpers to watch over her so she didn't mind going to volunteering activities rather than to be watched while being a normal teenager.

“Really, Miss Kendall, thank you so much for spending your time with us,” one of the staff walks Tristen to the car her dad lent her. The girl only smiles wider and takes a last look at the kids. “I'll be back after I finish some more things. I decided to stay for 10 days. It isn't just today.”

They decided to call it a day and Tristen went back to their house alone. She packed her things and grabbed her android phone to message the other volunteers.

For the next few hours, she spends time baking some goods for the kids. It was tiring but it sent her a big smile as she laid down on their sofa, rereading the activities the staff had planned.

Her phone then vibrates against her stomach and opens the message notification with eyes still finding it hard to leave the papers.

From: Z.

Ah. Angelface is busy doing volunteering acts, that's why. Should I bother u?

From: Z.

Should I? Omw aready. Can't say no.

From: Z.

Stay awake. Don't ignore me.

Oh. Just then, her eyes flew across the clock to check the time. This man's crazy, she concludes. It's 40 past 9 and Tristen can only stare at the clock, trying to find out what to respond when another vibration from her phone comes.

From: Z.

Was kidding. But ur dad told step dad u will be gone for a week.

From: Z.

So maybe I'll dip too. Just sayin.

Calling Z.

“What do you want?” she asks the moment he answers the call. He chortles first then proceeds to clear his throat. “Nothing. Just bored so I texted you,” his voice trails so Tristen stays silent. “No yeah,” Tristen smiles and the line goes silent again. “What's it?”

“I'm tryna ask you, like, do you want me to come over?” Zeji sighs after he asks and Tristen's silence makes him more antsy. “Yadadamean?” That's when Tristen laughs. “What's funny?”

“Yo, Cali boy. Calm down,” she turns on her camera to turn it to a video call. Zeji follows, but it's only the darkness she can see. “Your Cali is showing so much when you're nervous,” Tristen sits up straight and watches herself on the camera as she hears something shuffle, must be him when he turns on the lamp. “But it's okay. You can come over. But, if my dad goes here, what will we say?”

His face finally shows up, the natural reddish cheeks and chin. Zeji's eyes were focused somewhere, his half of mind went elsewhere.

“Yeah. I was thinking 'bout that too,” he clears his throat and hugs the pillow closer to him. “Wasn't it lonely?” He asks and Tristen only shakes her head. “You're like used to it?” his voice sounds soothing, maybe it was because he's lying down that it appeared different. “Nope. But I appreciate the silence. Makes me think of the possibilities I can escape my dad,” she answers and it was evident to his face that he's a bit shocked if his brows were to be considered. However, Tristen had just tried to kid him. “Not the whole time. But I sometimes do that.”

He hums and she looks down because it's got that radio silence again. “Don't you keep up with your friends?” She finally came up with a question they can talk about, since that's one of the things Tristen finds interesting about the liberated kids in the US.

“Time difference. Besides, I know what they're doing. Maybe Connor's jaded again and the chance that Ash and Violet are making out again could not be low. My best friend, uh, maybe she's being their mom again. Same same, y'know?” Tristen beams at that, liking the way his accent and tone just differs at times he's so into the topic. “Well, I mean, I'd only stay here for like 3 weeks or so, but I only go to the same places,” he rubs his chin and shakes his head as if debating himself whether to continue or not. “And it's not like I have other people I can hangout with. They're either too old to match my endurance or my Californian accent intimidating the teenagers. I'm thinking maybe we can go together since you said there's like plenty on your list.”

Once more, she only stares at the screen and it may seem like she spaced out but Tristen wasn't. At the back of her mind, maybe she had actually planned doing those things with her boyfriend or with Bella soon. What if she changes her plans?

“Just maybe. 'Cuz I get it. Sometimes I get cocky and I'm mostly unaware when I do—” he was babbling and Tristen doesn't want to hear anymore of it not because she dislikes him being like this but because Zeji wasn't giving her the chance to speak so he won't have to explain himself further. “I'll go with you. But we're not alone so never say a word about us… hooking up. Alright?” He bobs his head quickly— quite child-like as if he was awarded with a nice candy. Tristen finally turns off the camera. “You can come over in the morning. Just tell the elders you'll be meeting friends from Rizal.”

Tristen provided the necessary answers Zeji might need in case his mom or stepdad ask questions. It went on for more than an hour before she hung up to let him rest before he traveled in the morning.

From: Z.

Good night, angel face.

Before she falls asleep, Tristen makes herself a cup of chamomile tea because her chest feels a little heavy and it surely helped her rest well.

In the morning, she wakes up at six, just eats a piece of bread and sets herself to run for half an hour then makes herself another cup of tea, this time it's green. As she sips on it, the independent girl accidentally made a breakfast for two, thinking her dad was around.

While eating, she checks on her phone to see if her dad has sent any message. It turns out none of him.

From: Z.

I grabbed an uber. Step dad didn't lend me his.

Aw. The text message was sent an hour ago.

To: Z.

Ok, tc.

She takes the last slice of pancake and munches on it when Tristen receives yet another text message.

From: Z.

Dry texter. If I sleep, do u think I'll miss ur house?

To: Z.

Idk. Hardly take uber. Dw, we can just text like this.

She proceeds to wash the dishes, dries her hand then automatically goes to the storage room to grab the spray bottle. Then she turns right towards the living room where the indoor plants reside. Once she's done, Tristen goes to the garden, turns on the faucet as she has grabbed the water hose.

There weren't many flowers, they were more of shrubs but there were some small beauties there. It was quick to sprinkle water, just enough for them to not dry. Just to make them stay alive.

The vibrations against the kitchen counter went unnoticed. Not until she goes back to grab a glass of water.

Z. calling, flashes on the screen of her phone. Tristen answers the call and sees Zeji inside the cab, his face flashes something she can't read.

“Are you alright?” “You okay?” they asked in unison.

“I am. I just forgot the phone on the counter,” Tristen looks at her glass of water, not seeing Zeji sigh in relief. “Manong driver said I'm almost at the station. I'll just get something but that's quick. See you,” that's the only time Tristen looks at him again, pulling her out of the thousand thoughts she's in. “See you.”

Call ended.

Silence. If Tristen was to list down the things doesn't like, it is one of them. She tries her hardest not to close her eyes. Not when she's all alone and her brain might have jittered for some seconds.

Tristen can hear her own breathing. The white noise from the refrigerator comes as well and she closes her eyes when her back just steadily finds the wall against the kitchen counter.

She sees his face again, when Tristen's alone and can't think of anything to do, their memories will reoccur. Maybe because like what she'd said to him before they ended what they had, Tristen aims to never forget the guy.

The last time Tristen heard from him, he got an internship at a university in Manila. He had always wanted to be an educator, saying he owes the things he knew from his teachers.

It was nice reliving those moments. Just teenagers, making plans in the future, uttering their most desired things, imagining who they could be or what they could do. Times like this make Tristen realize that because the life she has forced her to face her reality, people like him who'd come in her life were like the breeze in the morning, something new and refreshing.

Like an escape to her reality, except that his stay would never be long, and the actuality would smash her daydreams soon.

She knows he was not only an idealist but also a doer and that he can be whoever he wants knowing that 'hard work' was middle name, as he used to tell her.

“Do you know why my mom had me and my other siblings?” He asked one day when they were at the bench in the meditational garden. “Before I tell you why, try to answer the question first from your understanding.” Tristen remembers herself sitting up straight, when the guy holds both of her shoulders to prevent her from slouching. “Uh, because it's one of the stages people normally reach?”

The guy smiles at her obvious cluelessness but was nonetheless able to utter a stative fact. He grabs both her hands and Tristen preens on it. “Maybe tell me something your mom or dad told you they imagine you'd do once you grow up,” Tristen finally nods, getting a hang of what he wanted for her to say. “Mom said she imagines me being an icon of my generation, which obviously is something positive but I'd never imagine that— I can't have that.” Her eyes along with her hands were unstable and the guy moved both his thumbs to calm her down. “Well dad… he said that having a kid means another chance to live up a life which a person was not able to handle enough.”

His gesture was effective, seeing how her hands were not trembling anymore. “Which may be the reason why he would always guide me through almost everything,” He nods, an understanding one and kisses both her hands to show his appreciation for her effort. Even though some of the things that her dad asked her to do or say were the opposite of what she feels and thinks, Tristen never shared it to him. She could never paint her dad like he's the bad guy. “Sorry. I didn't want it to sound dramatic. Let me just hear what your mom told you. I bet that's more interesting.”

After he soothes her, Tristen smiles and she thinks maybe that was a real one when he proceeded to what he was going to say.

“She said that even if she was the other woman during that time, she knew that when I had been in her womb, I would be a blessing to her.” Tristen only anticipates more of his words and silently admires how he's free with sharing personal things without shedding any tears. “At first, I thought she kept saying I was a blessing because I heard from my grandma that I should study hard, find a job which will pay me well so I can give my mom a house she owns and not the one that she pays for a monthly rent.”

A smile creeps on his lips again and Tristen mirrors it because he becomes his prettiest with that. The girl just likes prettiest things. Sometimes she wonders what she looks like when he sees her smile.

“But those weren't the words which came out of her. Other things and what other people said didn't matter to her. Mom told me that when she knew about me, it made her want to become a new person. The stronger, fiercer and better.” His doe eyes bulge as he accentuates the adjectives he utters. “You know, she had multiple dad babies because each of me and my two other siblings had different fathers but I don't mind.” Tristen remembers meeting his mom. She's beautiful, kind and he took his smile from her. “They were the ones who left because she's a dedicated mom.”

“She'd always tell me that once I become a parent, it's something I shouldn't feel afraid of. She added that I'm one of the people who were trusted to guide and be a very important person in another's life. And that I am a part of her dreams,” he smiles at himself, a proud one and if only his family was around, maybe he's going to hug their lungs out because that's just the way he is. “That's why whenever people mock my family, I pity them. Because it's either they didn't listen to their parents, or their parents didn't have enough time to hone their child's personality.”

“But anyway, I asked you to come here so I can help you build this string art project. Let's get it!”

His unwavering enthusiasm with Math also never failed to send her a smile.

The doorbell ringing around the ground floor of the house interrupts Tristen's session of reliving her favorite moments. She shakes her head and pushes a smile before opening the gate using the remote control as she stands by the front door.

There comes the Californian guy in his gray running shorts with a pair of white sneakers and white T-shirt. He waves his hand as if he was fifty meters away and Tristen only looks at him.

“Good morning, angel face.” A kiss was planted on her right cheek and he only smacked his forearm, which was making its way to her lithe waist. “Don't. There might be neighbors on their balconies or something.” Zeji looks around and playfully reaches for her other cheek. The girl turns around leaving the door open so he can follow inside. “I checked. No one was!”

Zeji was only carrying a black duffle bag and he left it on the sofa before pulling Tristen on her lap who did not react with his deed. She was facing sideways, her left side in front of him and his arms around Tristen.

“What're we bound to do today, angel face?” Zeji puts his face close to her arm and noses the exposed skin. He looks up, shamelessly stares at her but still, she won't respond. “Okay. Perhaps, at least I can grab myself a glass of water, right?” A slow nod and brief glance was what she gave him then stands to make way for the puzzled guy. “It's really quiet here. Don't you, like, play music?”

When Zeji turns around after he grabs a glass of water, he sees Tristen looking at him and he almost blows the water out of his mouth. He waits for his breath to even out when he goes back next to her before he speaks.

“Is there a problem?” Tristen only shakes her head. “Anything you need a hand on?” Another silent no. “This is even harder than playing charades which I hated when I was in primary.” Still, the girl beside her doesn't say a thing with his attempt of a joke. He huffs and holds either of her shoulders to make her sit straight. Tristen wordlessly sits up and looks Zeji in the eye. “Look, I don't know what's gotten you today, and I'm not the right person for you to share your thoughts with. Probably the reason why you're not saying anything was because you also think that that person wouldn't be me.”

One more huff. “I'll be upstairs. No need to accompany me. I remember the guest room,” he cautiously stands up, her eyes still glued on him. Zeji was about to walk but his mind just tells him to turn around and cup her cheeks to leave a three-second kiss on her forehead, along with a loose hug. “Just need some rest. See you 'round.” He pats her head and this time, Tristen didn't dodge it. Zeji just knows there's something going on in her mind.

Zeji plans to take a nap since he didn't get enough sleep last night because he's a twenty-three-year-old guy getting excited to have an extremely attractive woman alone. Nah, he tells himself not. Partly, yes.

But he knows Tristen only agreed for the reason of living up the things she knew she'd never experience if an unhinged guy like him did not come across her life.

Soft knocks were what woke him up from a blank dream. The moment Zeji opens his eyes, he also sits up straight and that sends him a whiplash. He goes straight to the door and opens it, an action he hasn't thought of much.

In his now fully awakened state, his hands moved quickly to try covering his upper torso. Her eyes were glued on what he's trying to cover, even before Zeji decided to hide it.

His eyes go somewhere else, trying to avoid her appreciative gaze.

“I'll dress quickly,” Zeji sprints further inside the room and wears the T-shirt he discarded on the couch. His back was facing her so when buzz cut boy turns around to see Tristen still looking, Zeji coughs in panic. “Are you okay? You look tense.” She asks, unprovoked and giggles at his unease reactions. “No, yeah,” he pushes a grin and the girl follows. “So, what's it?”

“You should've not worn the T-shirt,” Tristen says and pushes him to the side to get inside his room. “What d'you mean?” Zeji stands still, his back against the door and sees Tristen sit criss-crossed legs in the middle of his bed. “I like seeing beautiful things. Your body happens to be one of them. Don't you agree?” 

“Am I right for thinking that you're planning to do it again?” Zeji walks slowly towards her. Tristen looks up at her with an indifferent smile and shrugs. “I've no idea what you're talking about.” His eyes squinted at her response, seemingly still in doubt of her antics, but nods anyway. “What brings you here?”

Tristen pulled his hand when he planned to stay standing in front of the bed for a while. He was pushed to be seated on the bed, hands supporting his weight and in a blink of an eye, she was on top of her.

“Tristen,” he calls her name as if that would be a red light for the eager woman. “What?” She asks in a cunning tone, her eyes feigning innocence but the hands moving way too dangerously for this broad daylight. Zeji wasn't able to respond fast. ”Tristen,” he calls yet again.

Helpless. That's what he was when her hands were slowly traveling across the span of his skin underneath his T-shirt. “You gotta stop with this right now,” his hands fly to both sides of her waist, not to coax her to continue but to convince her to stop. “Stop what? I wasn't even doing something.”

His breath gets utterly more uneven by the passing seconds, as Tristen's lips mouth the skin just below his left ear.

“Angel face,” Zeji's hand squeezes her left waist and he feels her smile against his skin, now her tongue licks a thick stripe then proceeds to lap it. “Mmmh,” the sinister girl responds to the nickname he calls her and the vibration sends him another feeling. “Don't you have other things to do today?”

At that question, the girl on top of him stops momentarily before meeting his gaze. Okay. At least, Zeji was just awakened by her deed. No blue balls today.

“Actually I do,” her seriousness just made Zeji smile for his plan was successful, so he taps her thigh to signal the angel face that she can stand up already. When she doesn't move yet, he decides to just perhaps stand up while carrying Tristen so he can also walk her out. “Cool, I'll call my friends while—” but she pushed him down and he was caught off guard. He blinks his eyes open to see the woman lifting the hem of her top, sitting way too comfortable on his torso. “Truthfully, none. But I was hoping maybe you can do me instead. We got ourselves a bed, your one and only condition.”

Buzzcut's eyes went comically bulgy and realized that he truthfully said that. What was he even thinking? 

Angelface grabs one of his hands and puts it on her hip bone. That's when Zeji realized that she's still in the process of removing her thin sweater and he pulled her closer to meet her eyes.

“You don't know what you're getting yourself into,” he lifts her chin and holds the top of her hand to stop the action. “I know what I'm doing. You don't have to remind me what I'm getting myself into every time,” she pulls her hand out of his light grip. A frown was what paints her expression for split second and now she's just blank. “It's fine. Some guys really can't have sex with a ****** because they're less experienced. I understand. Just another rejected attempt.”

She was about to stand up and leave but he pulled her back. Tristen doesn't meet his eyes, even when he carefully lifts her face to level her gaze with him.

“It's not easy for me to resort to make out when you look and sound so beautiful every time,” he brushes the pad of his thumb on her cheek and her frown deepens. “I truly am sorry for making you feel like I'm tryna treat you like a kid when you despise it,” his thumb stops moving and when Tristen scrunches her nose, Zeji just wants to kiss her. “But I respect you. And I don't think you'd want to do it with a guy like me.”

Tristen looks at his eyes, her expression quite unreadable. “What's with a guy like you? What exactly are you?” Zeji sighs and his hand suddenly felt cold. “What? Are you secretly married? Wait, am I being a mistress?” Tristen removes his hand off her face with force, as she slowly distances herself away from him. Realization hits her. “You're in a relationship, aren't you?”

When she'd fully stood up, Zeji's head hung low, unable to meet her betrayed face.

“You should've told me when I kissed you that night. I know I'm insane for doing things my dad won't like because I was desperate to live a normal life but I wouldn't want to do that… I wouldn't want to be that,” her voice cracked and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. No tears. When they looked into each other's eyes, Tristen knew the guy really felt bad. She sighed before speaking again. “I know we're not exactly friends but I care for you. Please. Just fix what we did… you did. And if you truly respect me, then let me respect your relationship too. Let's end this.”

She left the room leaving the beautiful boy with a gloomy face. Tristen feels as bad as he is, knowing that she's hurting another woman and seeing such a beautiful thing turn sad. He's probably hitting the rock bottom with his lover, she argues to herself before Tristen can even let any ugly feeling seep in her system. Everyone may reach that point and she likes to think he's one of the people who handle problems pretty bad.

Instead of reasoning out to her asking mind, what she puts her attention to is to contact the facilitator of the summer camp to announce her arrival. Tristen rearranges her things, looks at the cookies and takes another bath before heading to the kitchen once more to grab a pitcher of water.

There's a movement in the living room and she knows who it was so she walks to the stairs. Five steps and a hand stops her movements.

“Can I talk to you?” his voice sounded calm that if Tristen were to reject him, she knows he'll just leave. But before she could even say something, her feet started to move on their own towards the living room. She sits and waits for him to settle next to her.  “What's it?”

“It's something complicated,” he starts and his hand moves to massage the bridge of his nose. “When you said that you know I've been in love, that's partly true,” her eyes just watch his sad eyes. Tristen knows because she was, too. Or rather she is. “Except that I still am. She left me and I never get to know why,” he sighs and rubs his face in between his hands.

She sees his more reddened face, maybe from the force of rubbing and badly wants to just stop him from possibly hurting himself. “We never put an end on what we have… at least not for me,” his eyes were bloodshot but still managed not to blink a tear doqn. “I would never want to have another woman… not anyone else. Especially not you,” he sniffs and that made Tristen question herself if she missed witnessing him cry. “You would never be the bad person, angel face.”

As she spaces out, the boy stands up and faces her for what he considers the last time.

“Sorry you were never sated and that I couldn't take what you want to lose,” she sees him gulp big and her eyebrows only furrowed. What was that? “I'm leaving now. For good. Sayonara.”

When he turns around to grab his duffle bag on the floor, that's the only time she realizes what he's doing. Tristen was fast to stand up and grab the hem of his hoodie to turn him around. Obviously, Zeji was stunned but he grins, the stupid one and the other wonders what's it for.

“Didn't you clear yourself so we can continue messing around?” She clutches the cloth on his chest, he notices too, that angel face was biting the inside of her mouth but trying to look like she's being a teasd. “You're seriously going to leave?” It came out weak, and she knows it's funny when he grinned wider. “Maybe I am. It's not like I can fathom taking you while seeing her face.”

Tristen hits his chest with force and he chortles even if it did hurt a bit. “If you haven't moved on then that means you still see her face when you're alone. Right?” He slowly nods and sees her pout. “Then don't come back to California yet. You can stay… here, with me. You don't have to do anything with me,” Zeji smiles and pulls her face against his chest. A careless chortle comes out and Tristen felt every single movement and vibration when as he does so. “Can I say no to an angel?”

She scoffs and pulls herself to lock eyes with him, a half-pout half-smile lingering in her mouth.

“You did. A couple of times.”

They settled on the sofa, her back against his chest as they watched Jumanji, as per Zeji's request because he likes Kevin Hart. He even boasted about meeting him three times and the phenomenal comedian recognized him.

“I baked cookies. You wanna eat?” She attempted to stand but the face buried on her neck stopped her. “I already ate some,” he lets out a short laugh when she slams her hand on his thigh. “Tch. Did you open the ones with ribbon? They're for the kids.” Another attempt to stand up but his hold just tightens. “I saw the one with the label. The one with 'Ji'.”

He smiles, a big one and squishes her cheeks using only a hand. “They're not chocolate chips. Since I don't want the staff to feel tired chasing overly-excited kids. I put dark chocolates instead,” he listens to her break down how she came up with such good-looking cookies once he got it from the pocket of his bag. “There's also almond and sea salt to even out the sweetness.” She asks and he only raises his eyebrows as he chews it. “Did you like them?”

“Tastes nice,” he answered shortly, her shoulders unknowingly slumped. “Sorry. I didn't know what to say more,” Tristen only smiles at him. “You can say you didn't like the cookies,” her hands come to play the ribbon attached which keeps the cookies away from too much air. Zeji feels a bit guilty when the other tries to still give a small smile. “But I did like them. I'm just not into sweets.”

But he likes every sweet she makes. Oh. And this is Zeji, not another guy.

“Hey, hey. Not the frown,” his hands cupped the sides of her face and forced her to look up. Tristen badly wanted to tell him she's not sulking but it's better that way than her having to admit a certain guy appeared in her mind again. “They're extraordinary. Just like you,” his smile, a huge smile which shows his set of perfect rectangular teeth. “There's nothing average that you do. You always make things extraordinary.”

She only looks at him without knowing it, her thoughts traveling somewhere else again. But this time, it was herself thinking of how Zeji was like to his girlfriend… his long missed girlfriend. He seemed nice and considerate but may be a bit insensitive for her standard. Perhaps because of the environment he had grew up in.

Well, it's actually not difficult to keep Tristen sated. Anything related to touch would appease her. Any form of another person's skin, especially a warm one upon her skin can send her to sleep.

Tristen's eyes opened when she felt his hand continuously moving against her hair. Left side of her face was placed on his chest so even with eyes opened, the man won't see her being awake.

He continues to do that and the receiver of the action just basks in the silence, under his touch and warmth, recalling the last time she was engulfed with another person's presence. Simple touches, nothing not innocent.

It was sudden, Zeji's reaction gave away that he was startled by her sudden movement when she got up and faced the guy. Either of her thighs on his sides, her hands on his shoulders and the man's mouth was agape, a question or two evident in the look of his face.

“What's wrong?” his left hand moved on her waist, the other on her cheek and he met her blank eyes. “I woke you up, didn't I?” The thumb of his pad travels from her cheek up her brow where the crease was and he carefully caresses it. “My apologies, angelface.” The palm of his hand rests on her jaw as his thumb continues to do what it was doing. “But I must say, you still look achingly pretty.”

Two taps and she's off his lap to sit sideways. When she's near, a chaste kiss is planted on her cheek. Another one and it lasted for seconds. Tristen closes her eyes, mind still traveling somewhere or over someone else. Nonetheless, the spacey one brings their faces closer.

“Let's just stay like this. Can we?” She abruptly opens her eyes to lock gaze with him to hear his answer then Tristen plants her face in the expanse of his thick neck. “I set up an alarm. We should arrive at the camp by 5,” she feels his hand travel up and down on her back which sends her to shiver. “Go rest.”

Having the man near was warm. But being beneath his touch, inside his arms and within his warmth was something else. Something she has not felt before since Tristen had always initiated the acts with him nor his skin felt this warm.

One of those was when he blushed beet red when his mom saw them in the kitchen with her trying to kiss his neck. It would always be his uneven heartbeat against her hand. Besides that, his hand becomes sweaty at times, but that's all. No hot cheeks, no warm neck.

After an hour or so, her phone blasts an alarming tone. Tristen remained calm and unlike her, Zeji had his eyes opened—in a comical way. His grip on her side tightened and she chuckled on that.

“You use that as a ringtone? Car alarm? What the ****! Almost thought your dad was here arresting me,” his other hand rubs his eyes and Tristen uses that timing to stand up to hold his chin. “It's effective when I don't have the drive to get up,” she almost moves away but he pulls her arm to kiss her. “Ah, if it wasn't you who did that, I might've given someone a beat.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head before leaving to gather her luggage. They met at the patio where Zeji had just finished smoking. Tristen was secretly thankful he chose the area where the walls were higher but not that thankful because there were plants hanging up.

“Let's go,” she puts her hand on his waist to catch his attention and he reaches to give her a smack but Tristen was quick to block his attempt. “Sorry.”

After giving an once over to the appliances and sockets, Tristen hands Zeji the car key. He smiles seeing the engraved symbol on it and presses the button with which they hear the real car alarm.

“Maserati fucking Levante,” he whispers as his eyes inhale the exterior of the luxury car. “You'd be fucking hot when you drive this. Why don't you?” Zeji faces the woman who just looks at him. “I don't like driving,” she plainly answers and makes her way to the shotgun seat before Zeji can open the door for her. “Lemme be a gentleman.”

Tristen only shakes her head.

Do girls normally daydream about a hot guy driving a luxurious car with only a hand? Tristen tries to dig in a memory of Bella sharing her thoughts about what makes a 'hot' guy. She looks at him—discreetly, but the egomaniac he is, Zeji looks back with his stupid grin.

“You're checking me out,” he states—does not ask—with an eyebrow raised. Zeji 'feeling' the vibe of the vehicle they're in wore sunglasses even when the roof of the car was enclosed. “I'm absolutely not. Dope,” she looks at him with a blank face and gestures at him to focus on the road. ”All's fine. I won't ask for a dime. A free exhibit, you could say.”

Tristen literally wanted to wipe away the foolish face he's making.

Good thing, the drive was actually tolerable because his taste in music was 'lit' like how he labels it and with how Zeji focuses on their route because he's terrified of things that could possibly happen if he misbehaves: 1. Denting the car. 2. Giving a scar to the only child of a retired Major General. 3. Scratching his Greek God-like face.

“What! I ranked you as number two over my face!” He explains himself as they took a short break because Tristen had to go to the toilet and Zeji waited outside the car. “You're reacting like I was upset. I wasn't,” she calmly says as she makes their way back to her seat. “But you gave me a blank face.”

With an exhausted sigh, Tristen faces him. Of course, she's looking up, with an at least eight inches gap between their heights, she must be. The sunlight wasn't of any help.

“I was just not interested,” she tiredly says and when those words came out of her mouth, Tristen immediately regretted doing so. She watches him gulp, a slow one that she sees Zeji's Adam's apple slowly bob, then a smile, his dopey smile appears as he holds the door of the shotgun door car to let her in. “No, yeah. It was not interesting. Hop in!”

The next forty-five minutes were spent with Tristen pretending to fall asleep and he did not bother to ask for directions because the map she drew for him was completely labeled. And like how she had tried to calculate their time of arrival, she fakes getting awake with her alarm.

Tristen silently hopes the ten days she had hopelessly planned for when she sent him an invitation.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***