Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Temi POV

I am woken up by my phone ringing. I glance at it to see that it's my mom calling. She hasn't called since our "altercation" back in New York City.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Isa asks from next to me. Her hair is falling into her face, and her eyes still have sleep in them.

We slept in my bed together last night. We spent the night cuddling each other softly.

"Yeah, it's just my mom. Go back to sleep."

I kiss Isa's head softly before detangling myself from her, heading out of my room.

"Hi mom," I say, settling down at the kitchen table.

"Temi," my mom says. As usual, there is some scrambling in the background before her voice comes back loud and clear, "my campaign is going so good. The stats are looking good. I actually have a chance of winning this."

I'm not surprised that my mom is calling me for the first time just to talk to me about her campaign. I rub my nose slightly as I listen to her talk.

She sounds excited, happy. And despite everything, I am genuinely happy for her. I want her to win. I know it means she would spend even less time with me than she does already, but I think it's for a greater good.

"I'm really happy for you, mom," I say.

"Thank you, honey, but I'm not in the clear yet. The only actual competition I have is Jack Craigler, and he is very adamant on doing whatever it takes to win."

My mind wanders off to my politics class from a few days ago. Craigler is the Republican candidate running for New York State Governor, no doubt the incel guy in my politics class would vote for him.

At that moment, Isa appears in my doorway. She has her long hair packed up in a bun away from her face and sends me a smile when we make eye contact. I return the smile, feeling slightly shy, and avert my gaze from her.

I pretend to be invested in what my mom is saying on the phone, but from the corner of my eyes I watch as Isa moves around in the kitchen. She is humming slightly to herself as she cooks.

Isa is dressed in a white tank top and sweatpants that hang rather low. I try to avert my gaze from her Calvin Klein underwear peeking out from the top. Instead, I get distracted staring at her bare slip of skin, just below her hips.

I'm thinking back to kissing her on the Forever Bridge yesterday, and laying in bed with her all throughout last night. I can still smell her scent on me, and an unfamiliar feeling courses through me.

"Hey," Isa suddenly says to get my attention.

I rip my eyes away from her body, bringing them to lock with her eyes.

From the smirk that plays lightly on Isa's face, it's clear she already caught me staring. A shiver of embarrassment passes over me.

"Bacon?" Isa mouths at me.

I simply nod and avert my eyes once again, looking anywhere but at Isa. My mom is now breaking down the stats of her campaign county by county, which is honestly something I could do without.

The smell of frying bacon draws my attention back to Isa. I watch the way she moves as she cooks. She's relaxed and seems so comfortable.

My eyes linger for a moment longer on her toned arms.

Isa turns around suddenly and I avert my eyes.

"Mom, I've gotta go," I say, as Isa drops a plate of breakfast right before me. It has bacon, eggs, and toast, and my stomach suddenly rumbles loudly.

I pretend not to hear Isa's laughter.

"Okay honey," my mom says, already sounding distracted, "stay safe. Good luck in school." She hangs up.

I put my phone away as Isa settles down opposite me with a smirk playing on her lips.

"It looks like someone's hungry," she says.

"Shut up," I grumble in reply.

I eat the breakfast Isa prepared, annoyingly aware of the fact that Isa is watching me but pretending not to notice.

"How is your mom doing?" Isa asks.

"She's alright," I mumble between mouthfuls, "her campaign is going really well."

Isa nods, taking a bite out of her toast. There's a look on her face that I cannot quite discern.

"Does it bother you?" She asks. It's a vague question, but I know exactly what she is referring to.

"Sometimes, but I'm used to it. She has been like this my whole life. She's always been very invested in her work."

Isa nods, but says nothing concerning the topic, which I am thankful for.

"Would you like butter on your toast?" Isa asks instead.

I nod my head and watch as she takes the toast off from my plate and delicately butters it for me. A bit of butter gets onto her wrist and I watch as she smoothly licks it off.

I clear my throat and focus instead on cutting up my bacon on my plate. We sit in a strange but comfortable silence for the rest of the meal.

The following week seems to zoom by. My week is packed with assignment submissions and projects that I need to turn in before Thanksgiving break.

I interact little with Isa during the days, but she's always in my bed at night time. It has become an unspoken ritual for us to spend the nights cuddling.

I'm not sure exactly what is going on between us, but I know it's definitely crossed the line of being platonic or us denying that we have feelings for each other. But neither of us ever actually brings it up, or talks about it.

Thanksgiving break comes up, and I'm not at all surprised that my mom is busy with work and her campaign, so I wouldn't be spending it with her. This is nothing new.

Rather than a traditional thanksgiving, Isa and I decide to bake cookies instead. I am better than Isa at baking, and it fills me with a strange satisfaction as I watch Isa fumble over the cookbook.

"I don't think we need that much sugar," I say, taking the measuring cup filled with sugar from Isa and pouring away some of its contents.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," Isa says, catching the small smirk on my lips.

I don't respond but smile to myself, resting my palm on the small of Isa's back as I do so. I feel Isa take a deep inhale in response to my actions, and she bends her head slightly, resting it on top of mine.

We stand like this for a moment. I love being close to Isa. I love feeling her physically. I love knowing that she's there, within my grasp.

Isa lets out a small sigh and bends her head some more, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

"We need to add some flour," I say to Isa as I glance at the recipe for the cupcakes we're making in the cookbook. I pause and send a smirk Isa's way. "Do you think you'll be able to handle that?"

Isa laughs and shoves me playfully. She seems to overestimate her own strength and my hip crashes into the counter, rather painfully.

"Oh shit, Temi. I'm sorry-"

I cut Isa off by grabbing a fist of flour from the bowl on the counter and throwing it in her face.

It startled Isa for a few moments and I laugh, seeing her pale flour-covered face and laughing at her bewildered expression.

This doesn't last long, as Isa lunges for me. I narrowly avoid her, and she chases me around the kitchen counter.

I'm squealing and I'm a bit too happy in that moment to think of how stupid I must sound, I know that no matter how bad, it's probably not as stupid as Isa looks right now and this thought just makes me laugh harder.

Isa is obviously much faster than I am and much more flexible. She catches up to me quickly and I'm now using my hands to shove her shoulders back to keep her as physically far away from me as possible.

"What's wrong? I just want to give you a hug," Isa teases, grabbing onto my hips to pull me closer. I feel my body heat up insanely at her touch, and from the smirk that grows on Isa's face, it's clear that she is aware of the effect she has on me. And she's loving it.

I'm giggling like crazy, and I feel silly and giddy and happy all over.

Isa is still struggling to get close to me and I'm using my quickly diminishing strength to keep her away from me.

She grabs my hips roughly, pulling it towards hers so our bottom halves are fused up against each other's. I continue pushing on Isa's shoulders, but she's leaning forward, trying to get the flour all over her face to rub off on me.

Not surprisingly, Isa overpowers me in no time and immediately holds me close, nuzzling up against me and rubbing flour all over me. More squeals escape my lips, but I'm laughing as well.

I turn around in an attempt to avoid Isa's grasp, but she still holds onto me tightly, not letting me slip through her grip.

"You're going to pay for that," Isa says into my ears. Her voice is low as she teases me lightly. I immediately feel shivers crawl down my spine.

I try to get away, but Isa flips me around once again, positioning me firmly between her and the counter. There's no escape.

Isa pulls me up against her and this time I don't resist, and not just because there's already flour all over me.

She bends her head, nuzzling her face into my neck, and I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her in closer. Isa breathes softly on my neck, and I shiver slightly in her hands.

She pulls away and is now staring at me. Her eyes graze over me and I completely become undone.

I don't know who instigates it, but we are suddenly kissing. Kissing like we've never kissed before.

We're making out aggressively. Isa's lips seem to be everywhere at once and I'm pulling her close, unable to get enough of her. It feels that no matter how hard I try, I can't get enough of her. I don't want to get enough of her.

Isa grabs me forcefully by my ass, sitting me on the counter so we are at a more level height with each other, as we continue kissing and touching each other all over.

She moans my name against my neck as she sucks it hard and I lose myself, pulling her all the more towards me.

I feel so good and I never want this to stop. Isa takes my shirt off, and I let her, right before I take hers off.

The only thing separating us is the thin layer of our bras between us.

Isa kisses me hard, trailing kisses all over my stomach and my exposed chest. Sucking and grazing my skin softly as she does so.

It feels so good. I feel so good, and I want her more than anything.

I'm feeling something I didn't know I could still feel. This might be the greatest experience of my life, and I would happily live forever if it meant experiencing it again and again.

Then my mind wanders to Grace and I'm feeling nothing but guilt. I shouldn't feel like this. Not when my best friend in the world is gone. Not when she was in so much pain, and I didn't even know.

My body grows stiff suddenly.

Isa, who had been kissing my stomach a few moments ago, stops, and she looks at me with concern and worry on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her eyes sweeping over me.

I nod my head, avoiding making eye contact and begin ruffling around, trying to find my shirt.

Isa finds my shirt and hands it back to me. I mumble a 'thanks' and quickly pull it over my head.

"I'm sorry," Isa says, "that was too much."

I shake my head quickly. "You're fine. It's me that's the problem." I cringe internally at how I sound, but it's how I feel.

"Hey," Isa says softly, "you're not a problem. Not in the slightest. Take all the time you need."

Isa holds me for a moment and I let her. I don't want to pull away. I want to feel her. I want to be close to her.

It isn't till the kitchen smoke alarm goes off that we pull apart.