Twelve: MTOABB

MTOABB

I see Cass's car pulled up in front of my house. I move towards it and find Prinse drumming on the steering wheel.

"How long have you been sitting here?" I ask, tapping on his window.

He rolls the window. "Not long, a few minutes."

I smile unintentionally and move towards the passenger door.

"So you are really sleeping over?" He asks backing out of the front porch.

"Yes. Cass wanted me to," I say, buckling in the seatbelt.

"Right." He nodded and silently continued to drive.

"Why are you driving your sister's car?" I ask.

"Not sure if you would tag along if I rolled up with my ride," he shrugs.

I chuckle, glaring out of the window.

"You are a strange one, so what ride is this that I wouldn't have tagged along with."

"I ride a bike," he says.

"You ride what?" I ask, clearly taken back.

"It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? How do you drive a bike and still wear these hideous glasses, this is not making any sense," I say as he finally stops the car.

He laughs as he grabs my duffle bag from the backseat.

"Will you teach me how to drive?" I ask getting out of the car.

"Sure. We have the whole day together."

"Don't say it like that," I say.

"Like how?"

"Like we are together."

"Rossita---," he pauses. "Do you ever think before you speak?"

I stare at him baffled - well that's a good question.

We had been going at it for 3 hours, because we somehow couldn't decide on every little thing.

"Finally," I say, closing my notebook.

"I'll go out and grab us some food," he says, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

I stay seated, shuffling my notes together.

A hate letter?

It wasn't what I wanted, but he seemed so appalled to the idea of a love letter that I had to go along with what he wanted.

I grab the letter and skim through it.

"The disdain in my eyes is a result of your betrayal..."

Doesn't that sound a bit harsh?

It's a hate letter, Rossita. It's supposed to sound harsh.

"Is it safe for me to come down yet?" Cass asks, entering into the living room where I'm still holding the letter in my hand.

"Yes, we're done," I say.

"Where did he go?" She asks, grabbing the remote control.

"To grab us some food." I grab my books -- "I'm going to put these upstairs," I say, gesturing to the stairs.

"He usually cooks, you know," she shouts as I'm already halfway up the stairs.

I place my bag in the corner of the room.

I stop in my step as I spot a picture of three happy faces staring at me on the wall. It's Cass and Gomes - and another person - a girl. Gomes has his arm tightly around her and somehow my stomach churns in discomfort.

"Isn't she pretty?" Cass asks, standing closely behind me.

I nod - not because I was being kind or anything, but because it was the truth.

Her beautiful brunette ringlets dance loosely past her shoulders as she stares at Gomes with her piercing blue eyes.

"What's her name?" I ask.

"Holly."

That didn't really change much - it's not like hearing the name "Holly" caused a light bulb to light up - you understand what I'm getting at, right?

"Gomes is back with the food," she says, turning to leave.

I follow right behind her.

~~~

"Thanks for the food," I say, dabbing at the corners of my mouth with a paper napkin.

He nods and Cass stands up, leaving the room to only us two.

"Can I take a rain check on teaching you how to drive?" He asks, but it was more of him telling me then really asking me.

"It's okay."

"I have somewhere to get to tonight," he explains.

"I didn't ask, Gomes," I say.

"Right," he smiles.

"So...," I trail. "Who is Holly?"

He stops in his trail. "She is a friend."

"Just a friend?"

"A close friend," he adds.

"So she's still in the picture?" I ask, curiosity peaking in.

"You could say that."

"What about Molly then?"

"It's not like that with Holly."

"It's not?"

"Why are you questioning me so much?"

"I'm trying to get to know you," I defend.

He checks his watch. "I need to get going," he says, already grabbing for his jacket.

"When will you be back?"

"Not sure, probably going to be late."

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, already walking out.

"Don't worry about him, he does that a lot." She shrugs.

Already snuggled up in the blanket, Cass presses play and we quietly lay down, watching "10 things I hate about you".

"Patrick is such a cute bad boy," I whisper.

~~~

Laying in bed and going through the scenes from the movie, I realise that a hate letter wasn't going to outshine Kat Stratford's one. It had so much emotion and depth that the one we wrote felt like it was lacking in so many areas. I felt inspired, so I grabbed my robe and went to sit on the desk and started writing.

I'm not sure if Gomes will approve - but he won't have to know unless it's too late.

I know, I know - we're partners and all, but it's not as if I'll intentionally make us gain a fail mark. I'm a pretty decent writer, if I don't say so myself.

I replace the two letters with each other and I quietly make my way downstairs for a glass of water.

Gomes is seated on a stool, unaware of my existence in the room as he chugs down a favorable amount of beer.

"Something on your mind?" I ask.

He abruptly turns his head, looking very uncomfortable.

"Thought you were all asleep."

"Not me. Now answer my question," I say.

"There's always something on my mind, Rossita," he says, taking another sip and I nod.

"What did you come downstairs for?" He asks.

"A glass of water." I point to the tap.

"Well, don't mind me."

I move to grab a glass of water.

"Where did you go?" I ask, sitting on a stool next to him.

"Too many questions," he says, placing his finger on my lips.

I stay at a standstill, my brain no longer functioning properly.

"Looks like I'll have to make your lips my canvas and my lips the art and the bed my art room."

I stare at him, dumbfounded, but instead of telling him that he's out of his mind, I just sit there.

He grins. "I want to shut you up with my mouth so badly."

"Gomes, stop, please," I say, removing his finger from my lips.

He sighs. "I've had a bit too much to drink, forgive me."

I nod, already turning to leave.

I stop. "You know something-" I turn around to look at him "-the funny thing about relationships is you tend to forget how it all started."

I walk out of the kitchen, leaving him alone with the beer bottle still in his hand.

I drag my body back into bed next to Cassandra and I stay there, wide awake - waiting to hear his steps moving behind the door.