31 | 𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑒

"I don't know how to feel," I uttered into the phone, looking both ways as if I were going to be caught red-handed. I told myself that the last thing I would do would be to tell people Victor and I kissed, but it was only a shy couple of hours later when I quickly sent the text 'I did something' and both Keiona and Jay responded in the group chat similarly.

"Well, who's the better kisser?" Jay asked urgently. "Come on, Keiona and I are dying to know over here."

"Yeah, girl, if you don't spill the deets anytime soon, I'll have to test it out for myself," she added with a snap of her bubblegum. I paced the vacant hallway, back and forth and back again as the phone pressed flush up against my ear. The chatter-occupied room blew their voices out of proportion, but I listened to their small add-ons like "So?" "Go on, tell us."

I hesitated, then mentioned, "I don't know, he's okay--I guess."

"You guess?" Keiona retorted. "Girl, he is fuckin incredible. A lil' on the shorter end, but who am I to say?" She chuckled. Keiona was naturally tall and lean, and I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to be a model. In fact, I would encourage it.

"He's okay," I restated, biting my lip trepidatiously.

Jay scoffed into the speaker. "I most definitely know he's a good kisser." It suddenly got a tad on the quieter side. "Well, I would assume," he mentioned laughing.

"It's just—" My breath felt tight in my chest because a part of me didn't want to say what I was thinking, and that was agreeing with them. I was afraid that if I releveled my thought process, I might let something slip that I most certainly didn't want to hear from myself or my friends. "I got to go."

"Oh..." Jay's voice was small. "We didn't upset you, did we?" he wondered with a downcast.

"No, of course not!" I smiled towards a crowd of people who dismissed me. "I should get going though. Vicky's birthday and all, y'know?"

"Right. It's not an everyday occurrence you get swept off your feet by two dashingly, well, one dashingly handsome gentleman," Keiona exaggerated humorously. "Go on and get your old man before he turns forty in a blink of an eye."

Jay added in a mock-serious tone, "they get old so fast, don't they?"

"Indeed they do-" I was sure Keiona and him were having their own separate conversation at that point. Therefore, I didn't feel too bad when I started to interject.

"I'm going now!"

"Have fun---not too much fun!" Jay crooned lastly into the speaker before I cut them off with the abrupt press of a button. My screen vanished to our text messages of him begging me to call. When I looked up, I spotted Victor wearing his black tank top that read "Birthday King" and one of the paper birthday cone-hats I got him.

"You look hot," I stated, but my monotone voice was an indication that I was only teasing, but he took it as if I genuinely meant it.

"Don't I?" He extended his arms and playfully twirled in a 360 to show off his typical ripped back jeans with loose, undid strings dangling by his knees and exposed thighs. But I knew he was demonstrating the loose fitted, and exposing tank, generously showing off his contoured arms and chest through the gaps of fabric. That is, if I look past the big, golden bubble letters that reads "BIRTHDAY KING".

"You're ridiculous," I mumbled, walking towards him. "Mind telling me why you chose to go to a prison for your birthday?" I looked up to him with big, wide brown eyes.

"Consider it a glimpse into the future," he teased, joining my side as we ventured through the hallway of cells. He  assured, "no, but I've always wanted to go. How cool is this? A famous prison on an island."

"You're unpredictable," I voiced, gazing over to the cells we surpassed seeing infamous serial killer plaques. I will admit, it was interesting to see, and it helped that we got to take a ferry to the island with the views from the top tier of the boat. At the end of the day, it was very unpredictable, but very... Victor.

"You aren't having fun?" he questioned in my direction, his tone somewhat hesitant.

"No, I am."I wasn't lying when I said it, but at the same time. I couldn't get one thing off my mind, I didn't need to say it for Victor to know, he just knew just by the look in my eyes. I began to stroll away, ever so often seeing dusty windows and the sturdy metal bars enclasping cells.

"Look, if this is about last night..." Victor began with the palms of his hands facing me. He hurried to my side with long strides.

Something stronger was inside of me and I whipped around to face him. "It is!" I exclaimed a little louder than expected, pivoting toward his expressionless face. He looked surprised as I restated, more quietly than the last, "I don't want to ruin this friendship we have, Victor." I ignored the collective gaze from everyone around us.

"And that's exactly why I didn't want to kiss you when you asked," he noted.

"But I'm angry!" I deadpanned, crossing my arms.

"And crazily adorable." He rose a hand to curl a few strands of brunette hair over my ear but I tried to shrug him off.

"I'm being serious! And I am not adorable." My eyebrows furrowed as I frustratingly gazed towards the people watching. "I'm really angry."

"Okay, tell me what you're angry about?" He urged with a quirked eyebrow. Something about the way he appeared made it seem like he found the situation amusing, like it was one big sitcom to repress laughter at.

I lowered my voice and murmured, "we didn't kiss for practice like you joked around before. We kissed because..."

"Because of what? The drugs?" His chin lowered in expectancy for me to reply, but I only thought one thing--because we wanted to, or because I wanted to...

"Yeah, that..." My voice trailed lowly. "I don't want to be like that with you... ever. I changed my mind."

"I never agreed to anything," he assured. "Are you sure you're okay about everything?"

"I said I wasn't!" I declared. "I never said I was okay... I said I was angry—"

"I know," he muttered, his hand still hovering over my bare neck warmly. He pursed his lips in a forced smile. "How about ice cream?"

"There's no ice cream in prison. Do they have prison ice cream?" I implored.

He nudged my shoulder down the hallway. "No, but I have something even better."

♡♡♡

"This is fantastic! How do you know all the good spots here?" I implored intently, my tongue circling around the ice cream while he awkwardly stared at me, biting his lip. It was only then did it hit me.

Fuck. Oh well.

"I never met the aunt we're meeting in a few days, but I lived here when I was thirteen. Favorite place besides West Virginia." He drove his plastic spoon into the cup of ice cream as his eyes surveyed the San Francisco streets. We were seated on a park bench with a big bright red umbrella above our heads, forbidding the monstrous sun rays that San Francisco offered, despite it blatantly being December. It was weird not having the frost covering the ground like Wyoming, but nonetheless, it felt like we were truly... away from home, and that felt like a good thing for a change.

"You used to live in a lot of places," I recall, gazing up at him with raised eyebrows, begging silently for him to take my comment and run. I wanted him to tell me everything, but I knew he wouldn't.

"Yeah. I did." He popped the spoon in his mouth upside down and licked off his pistachio ice cream smoothly. "You lived in Wyoming all your life?"

"Indeed, I have," I admitted, licking off my chocolate chip cookie dough scoop, collecting a small serving on the tip of my tongue. "I go to visit my aunts in New York though. My other set lives in Kansas, but they're a weird bunch of people who I don't really see that often--"

"Where would you want to live?" Victor pressed, matting the underside of his arms along the cherry wood planks constructing the table top.

"Hmm." My thought process was quick, from my house to the world. "I don't really know. I never really thought about it. I'm more into these small decisions, like ice cream flavors." I gestured to my chocolate sphere in the cone.

He jerks his chin towards me. "I was surprised to be honest. You strike me as more of a vanilla person."

"I am not vanilla," I snapped then straightened my lips as he laughed off into the distance, licking off his spoon.

"Good to know," was all he said. His smile stained his lips and disgustingly transferred onto mine. I couldn't repress the laughter in reply to his sexual innuendos as much as I intended to.

"Where do you want to live?" I wondered impulsively, my eyes glimpsing up towards the rich desert in his eyes. Tan dunes of hot sand that had been sitting under a beating sun for too long encircle his irises.

"Somewhere challenging," he voiced, turning to me with an excited look in his expression. "Like, people who speak a different language--in Europe or South America, some shit like that."

"You're interesting," I said, pointing my ice cream towards him. "Why do you like your birthday so much?"

"Because it's about me, duh," he jested, "you have to pay attention to me on my special day otherwise karma. December twenty-second is officially the best day to exist."

"Agreed." I nodded my head and asked, "if you could date any celebrity... who would you date?" I wondered.

"Hmm..." He tilted his chin, then asked, "besides Krampus?"

I giggled to myself and shook my head. "No, you can not date a demon."

"I have you know," he pointedly lectured, "Krampus is not a demon, he is a horned, anthropomorphic figure in Alpine folklore." After a pause to allow for our laughter, he shrugs and says, "you."

"I said celebrity, Vicky," I breathed with a grin.

"Yeah," he egged on, "practically a walking celebrity in Fox Point High now that we're rumored to be dating and hooking up. I wish you could see all the looks you're getting now," Victor complained bitterly, shuddering at the thought. "It's disgusting."

I rolled my eyes. "You're seeing things. No one is looking at me in any way. The only guy I care about is Sullivan."

Victor opened his mouth to say something, his eyes squinted on the table before he popped his lips together. I didn't think anything of it and continued to lick up my ice cream. "I got you a present, but it's in the hotel," I admitted.

"Hmmm. Just for me, huh?" he taunted.

"Didn't we just have the friendzone talk?" I retorted cheekily, biting off a small edge of the cone. The sun rays glazed over Victor with a subtle golden glow, making his olive complexion seem even more flawless with his beautifully sketched brown irises looking at me with hints of humor--holy shit. I can't breathe.

"I think we should go, get some fresh air." I swiftly stood from the bench, ducking my head under the umbrella and pivoting, but being a few centimeters off, I caught the small bits of metal that poked out from the nylon fabric, making me yelp. My hair twisted into the spike, preventing me from moving any further.

Victor approached, his chuckles dissipating into the cool winds. "Get some fresh air? Maybe you need some more of that... we are outside after all." He positioned his cup of ice cream and neared me with a small tilt of his head.

"Shut up," I groaned, stamping my foot onto the grass. "My skull is going to tug off my neck!"

"That makes little to no sense and I will not help you with that attitude," he scolded coldly. His eyes felt to be smirking at me.

"Please, Vicky!" I pleaded, gesturing to my hair tied in small knots around the metal of the umbrella. He nodded curtly and his thin fingers toyed with the strands before it started to feel looser and my head released from the captivity of the vicious umbrella. "Thanks."

"Listen," he started, his fingertips drifting over my forearm. "The day is still young, and though going to a prison and eating ice cream with you is ideal, I have one more thing I want to do before my birthday ends."

"Really?" I sang, rising up on my tippy toes and nearing his face, before I slammed back down to my normal height abruptly. "Where is that?"

"Well... how about we take a taxi and I'll show you there myself, but we have to leave in fifteen." He gestured to the sun above our heads as he began to saunter along the field of the park after grabbing his cup of ice cream and picking at the pistachio on the spoon.

"Why do we need to wait?" I impatiently pried, grimacing and hurrying over to him, biting my cone again, some crumbles fell down my face and on my pink and white crop top.

He smirked down at me and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, shaking his head at me as his finger collected a small gathering of crumbs before popping his thumb into his mouth casually. "Because, it will all make sense when the sun sets."

In an attempt to calm myself from the speed of my heart and my lips from parting too much, I sarcastically commented, "how romantic?"

"Follow me--" He tossed his cup of ice cream in the trash bin and latched onto my hand. I threw the ice cream up, surprisingly hearing it land in the plastic bag as he tugged me forward and down a cleared pathway.

"Victor Vislocky!" I yelled in a careless attempt while he hurried me towards a yellow cab, waving his hand before opening the door to one that pulled up. I leapt in after, slamming the door as he rambled some address. "Victor--"

"No," he interjected while the cab driver forged on the gas and cut into the line of increasing traffic. "I just..." He practically bounced in his seat, ever so often catching glimpses of the window view. "I never get to hang out with you like this."

"Like what?" I interrogated happily. "We hang out all the time--"

"Yeah, I know, but--Corbett is always the topic of conversation, and don't get me wrong, I want to help you with him, but sometimes I just wanna get to know you--"

My mouth fell open and my heart swelled. "Vicky," I exhaled, slightly disinterested with the mention of Sullivan in that tone. I didn't think Victor's and my conversations were always about him, but then again, that was the reason why we became friends.

"I know, I know," he prattled hurriedly. "We couldn't date anyway," he rambled with a jest to his voice, "I'm your teacher, you're my student and now that I'm eighteen, its pedophilia."

The cab driver's eyes shot up to the rearview mirror, but I ignored it. "Mister Vislocky, you are not eighteen until--" I looked at the clock and read the maroon lines sculpting the digital clock. "Twenty-seven minutes?" I bit my lip, cringing in anticipation to hear how wrong I got the time, but he only nodded at me in validation, making something in me feel good that I got it right. "Well, I want to know more about you too." I inched sub-consciously closer against the leather cab seats as the driver continuously stared up at the rearview mirror with condescending brown eyes.

Victor rolled his head. "I'm an open book, Rhy. You ask, and I'll receive."

I quickly pulled out my phone and typed in the password, my thumb hitting against my notepad app. I could tell he was staring at me, though I tried to ignore it. Suddenly, he asked, "you have questions written down, don't you?"

He didn't seem offended, more-so amused and that bugged me. It bugged me because I liked it. To ignore the feeling inside of me I said with laughter, "Shut up!" I scrolled to a random question, seeing how personal it was as a glaring sun ray glazed over my phone.

He peered over my shoulder but I tucked my phone to my chest. He backed away, eyes wide. "What the hell are you dying to ask me? This doesn't feel professional, you being my student and all." He glanced to the window again, his black locks of hair looking softer than usual, his smile more contagious.

"I'm just taking it question by question." I dropped my phone to my thigh, facing down. "Tell me something nobody knows."

The orange glow of sunlight fell over his features perfectly, casting a shadow on the leather surrounding us. For a second, I'd forgotten everything. I just couldn't believe that I was next to him. The guy all girls, and some guys, pawned after. He was so much more than what Kayla made him out to be.

With my question in the air and the way that the world seemed to fade into orange light, I assumed what would follow the 'tell me something nobody knows' would be just as sentimental as the image around us, but I was wrong.

"My looks are impeccable," he emphasized.

"Something that nobody knows," I repeated with exaggeration, smiling sincerely at him.

"Hmm, you admit that my looks are impeccable," he replies, his eyes focused on mine before drifting to my lips, I swore they did, but I acted nonchalant, despite this weird feeling in my chest that sped. I didn't know why though. He nodded his head in thought, then said, "I can wiggle my ears."

"No way, show me!" I exclaimed, quite baffled. I watched as he rolled his eyes in annoyance before reluctantly participating in the act. The shells of his ears bounced up and down before he stopped and beckoned his chin to me. "I'm double jointed," I told him, lifting my hand and bending it backwards in a weird way that made his back slam up against the seat.

"You're a psycho! That's not normal!" He died of hysterics, throaty laughter filling my ears among my giggles as the radio sputtered punk rock music behind our conversation.

The taxi driver nodded his head with a toothy grin. "We're here. Have a good rest of your night. Thank you--" He'd spoken to Victor who handed him the cash, thanking him and stumbling out of the car.

I followed, saying my own thanks as he gave one last gleaming smile. I shut the door as he took my hand, intertwining our fingers as his opposing hand cupped my eyes, shielding the golden glow of light.

"Where are you taking me!?" I implored as his stomach snugly pressed against the curve of my back. His body hovered on mine and I felt an overwhelming, consuming amount of heat that poured into me, but it was California after-all.

Damn, California is hot.

"Shh--" He hushed into my ear, his breath fanning hotly against my neck as we walked closer to the sounds of highway chaos.

"Victor! Are you going to throw me into oncoming traffic?" I cried out with a few giggles.

"More like... a bridge," he murmured, making my confusion heighten before he removed his hand and the priceless image of the crimson metal in front of the piercing watercolor orange transfusion of the sky appeared. The Golden Gate Bridge in all its glory was there, as we stood atop a grassy platform with rocks lining the edge, looking over the navy waters.

I pivoted around, seeing him standing there dumbly with a cheesy smile. "Y'know, back to your question," he started again. His voice floated above the sounds of distant highway clutter and rhythmic beach waves. "Not many people know that everytime I move to a new place, I take one thing with me."

"In your shoebox," I murmured for him, seating himself towards the ledge, the Golden Gate Bridge's orange hued fluorescent lights flickered on and lit a pathway against the smoky gray fog that began to wisp by.

"Yep." He sat down next to me, rolling his eyes and ignoring the fact that I sat criss cross applesauce. He popped his knee up towards the bluing sky. "I took a rock from here, this exact spot."

"Why do you do it?" I implored distantly next to him.

He shrugged. "I don't know." He stared out into the distance of traffic lining the bridge and said, "Before I got taken away from my mom--" He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "She gave me a bracelet of hers and told me it's for future me to feel like I have somebody."

I nodded in understanding. "So, now the bracelet is in the shoebox?"

He began to shake his head, catching me off guard as he admitted, "one of my foster families took it away from me as punishment, I'd never seen it since and I don't care. Now, I collect things for myself."

"I can't imagine that, but what you're doing is sweet," I assured, looking down at my hands as I subconsciously plucked the grass, running my hands through the soft strands. "Are you going to look for your mom?"

"I don't know," he responded again, trying to decipher for himself what he wanted. "I just want to find my brother." He shot his head to me and with big eyes filled with emotion and asked, "tell me about your family, please? Take the spotlight off." His breathing became labored.

I nodded hastily, but with a dry mouth and a butterfly cluttered stomach, I couldn't find the words to match my thoughts so soon. "I never had a good relationship with my dad, and my mom can be hard sometimes. She's always wanted what's best for me, but it's almost like she doesn't know what that is exactly," I worded, slightly shocked at my own definition of my life.

"And your dad left you..." He concluded, lowering his voice. "That sounds a tad lonely," he joked with a chuckle to his words to make the wording sound less sad.

I shot a look at him, expecting his eyes to be studying the gorgeous landscape of the Golden Gate Bridge, but he was eyeing me. "You're just as alone, may I remind," I told him, reciprocating the chortles.

"Oh, I know I am," he snarkily laughed. "But we're here to find my brother, may I remind you," he mocked playfully, poking my side and making me swat his hand teasingly away.

When he prodded his finger into my side, what I didn't expect was to feel that tingling sensation course through my body and ping into my chest. At first it felt good, then a wash of understanding that we're here for his brother and he's with me for Sullivan came over. "For your information, you're helping me find the love of my life," I pointedly lectured, more-so telling myself.

"Is that so?" he tested.

"It tis' so." I paused, seeing his goofy smile. "Stop looking at me like that." I felt butterflies linger along the interior of my chest, climbing up to my throat, yet this feeling was almost as cravable as the energy that possessed me in the nightclub.

"Stop looking at you like what?" His smirk returned. "I am just innocently staring at my one and only student about to fail this class."

"Fail? I am finally getting Liv's attention. I am excelling in this class and you know it!" I remarked, "I even was kissing him."

"I know, despite my hatred for the guy, I am nonetheless proud of you."

Woah... what am I feeling? Things feel hot and nice. And I'm turned on, wait--Victor Vislocky is proud of me. He's fucking proud!

"What are you thinking right now?" he giggled cutely, squirming closer to me. His body maneuvered against the side of mine as he raised his watch and showed me the circular glass. "I know what I'm thinking about."

I whispered breathlessly, "What?" I studied the small line of gold tracing the ticks.

"I want a birthday kiss," he admitted, "I only turn eighteen in two minutes once." He smiled down at the watch before he looked to me for validation.

Somehow, I returned with, "is that what you really want?"

He was taken aback, but said, "My birthday wish, and your practice, right?" He sounded almost desperate, but quietly, as if only I could hear, and even though I was the only one on the platform with him, it felt like the whole world was there watching from the Golden Gate Bridge and the beach below us.

"Yeah, right?" I asked, gazing up at him for confirmation, but he was nodding his head. "I mean, today I told you I didn't want practice and to ruin this, but it's just a kiss?" I asked pitchily high in octaves. I internally begged for him to say yes.

"No, yeah," he agreed. "I mean, it's just a kiss."

"Exactly," I exhaled, catching a glimpse of the watch. "I mean, just a kiss and I need practice--"

"It's gonna be illegal in a minute, so you better make-up your mind" he mentioned, swallowing what I assumed was bits of nerves, for I did the same. "But you're right. Practice, makes perfect."

"I know," I mumbled onto his mouth.

"Therefore, we're doing this for Corbett," he told me, nodding his head to the watch with one minute left.

"Agreed!" I exclaimed happily, my voice still quiet. "We are doing this for Liv. My crush."

"He better thank me. You're gonna be kissing like a pornstar when I'm done with you," he noted towards me. "So, are we uh-- are we gonna kiss in a minute?"

"Yeah," I amped, my voice high and my breath shaky. "When you're eighteen, it's on like Donkey Kong. We're gonna kiss in a minute."

"What are you even saying?" he wondered, his eyes on my lips.

I swallowed again, my nerves tumbling down my throat. "I don't know, it seemed fitting." My eyes met with his watch. "It's been a minute--" His face swooped closer to mine, but I disconnected the touch of his lips and whispered, "happy birthday, Vicky."

He closed the gap and his gentle lips broke between mine, sucking soothingly on the flesh and cascading my body in a bundle of warmth. His arms enveloped around my waist and tugged me closer, and my eyes sealed shut habitually.

I broke away, the emotion too overwhelming. "What am I supposed to do with my mouth?" I questioned, my eyes fluttering open to see his adorable grin. His hair was messier and his cherry oak eyes were varnished with lust.

"You're doing fine, follow my lead," he chuckled quietly into my lips, his mouth on mine again. His hands cupped my body perfectly closer, and every time he sucked even a fraction more than the last, he brought my body unimaginably closer to his.

My chest was on the verge of exploding, whether from the lack of air going to my head or the fact that I was feeling a million different things at once, all so significantly consuming, eating me up and tearing me to shreds, yet I liked the feeling. I liked the feeling of doing something so terribly wrong, but Kayla told me something, friend or not, she said, bad boys do bad things, and in all her romance novels she's read, the bad boy makes bad things feel good. And I wasn't supposed to be kissing him, it should've been Sullivan.

So when this feeling of my heart swelled even harder inside of me, I separated from the heat and it was almost as if I pulled the plug on the electricity, it cut off within seconds, nothing but the two of us staring into each other's eyes, silently pondering with the thought of who would speak first, and what about.

I bravely stated, "for practice." Forcing a smile.

"For practice," he echoed.

But we both knew that there was something more than just that.

x