I AM POSTING ON THIS STORY AFTER A LONG TIME, SO BEAR WITH ME IF I'VE LOST MY TOUCH :P

Chapter Nineteen

“Donna!!” 

My eyes blink open at Mom's annoyed tone. She's in the doorway of my room. In her hand is the bare handle of a ceramic cup. I sit up, rubbing my eyes in sheer confusion. Nope, it's not my imagination.

She really is standing there with a handle in her hand. “Donna, did you go downstairs sometime during the night?”

“I think so.” I mumble, scratching my head in confusion. All I can remember about yesterday are some fantasies and even those are fuzzy around the edges and unfocused. I can barely even remember what they were about.

“Did you fix yourself a drink?”

“Probably.” I say, my eyes drooping with sleep. Today is an important day, but for some reason, I can't remember why it's so important.

I look up at my mom through squinted eyes, “Did you wake me up just to ask me that one question, Mother?”

“No. You broke the cup, Donna. This was my favourite cup.” Mom whines, giving me the unbearable puppy dog eyes she is so unbelievably talented at. 

I fight to keep my eyes open, “I'm so sorry, Mom. Keep the super glue out and I promise I'll fix it when I come downstairs.” I lay back down, pulling the duvet over my head and beginning to drift back to sleep. 

Someone tugs on the duvet sharply, leaving me horribly exposed to the sunlight. I close my eyes, clamping my hand over my ears when Mom insists, “No, I want you to come down now.”

“No, Mommy!” I whine, sandwiching my head between the sheets and the pillow. Mom sighs and I hear her heels clack out of the room as she mumbles about her poor cup that she treasured so much. I sit up briefly to grab the duvet so I can go back to sleep. As I curl my fingers around it, the final layer of sleepy haze lifts from my mind and I instantaneously remember what day it is.

My eyes wide, my heart thrashing around wildly, I slide out of the bed and go over to my Puppies and Kittens Calender. 

I was right. 

Today is Tuesday. I glance up at the clock. It's twelve thirty in the afternoon. I slip out of my top and shorts, yanking on some old slacks and a neon orange vest top. Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I thunder down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom is pouring all her energy into super-gluing the broken cup. Dad is drinking some milk at the table. 

I grab an apple and then run back up the stairs, to the background music of Mom's exasperated sigh and Dad's voice telling her to give up already.

I chomp through half of the apple and dispose of the rest. Through the garbage bin called my window. I know it's bad for the environment, yet I can't help it. I'm a little preoccupied right now. I rake a comb through my knotted hair, wincing when I pull on some strong roots. After slapping some moisturiser on, I file through my wardrobe, frantically searching for the new outfit I decided on.

A black, lacy spaghetti-strapped top with worn blue jeans and a large white cardigan that floats around my knees over it. Finally finding it after a long search, I pull it on. I hear my phone beep with a text and I jump on my bed, fumbling with the phone before finally grasping it and clicking a button.

'Are you ready? I'm picking you up in 15 minutes. Rhys.'

My heart lurches into my mouth and I shakily close the text. I can't believe this is finally happening. After so many half-evolved kisses and attempts that have been stopped in their tracks, it seems almost impossible. It seems as though I'm still sitting at the dining table, still clutching Mom's favourite mug and having shiver-worthy amazing fantasies.

Mentally shaking myself, I get up and examine myself in the mirror. I seem to look okay... but there's something missing. I look at myself, getting increasingly frustrated. What is it?

Then I see it.

I haven't got any shoes on. Laughing at my idiocy, I slap a hand to my forehead. I take out the wedge sandals I bought specially for this 'occasion.'

There. That is much more better. I sit on my bed anxiously, knocking my knees together, fidgeting with my hair and my clothes, a nervous scowl painted on my face the whole time. Mom walks in, “You look nice. Are you going somewhere?”

“Out with Rhys.” I say, trying to appear as normal as I can, “I'm also sleeping out tonight, Mom. I'll be home sometime tomorrow.”

“In that case, be prepared.” Mom says cryptically and then strides out as if nothing has happened. I blink rapidly, aghast of her reaction.

She just... knows. Every time. How?? I don't have time to ponder upon this. There's a beep from outside. I stumble to my window. 

Rhys' car is outside. 

Rhys' car is outside my house.

Rhys' car is here to pick me up. No, let me correct myself, Rhys is here to pick me up.

Rhys' car is outside

RHYS' CAR IS OUTSIDE!!!

I calm my trembling nerves and concentrate on making it down the stairs in one piece. I wobble to the front door like a jelly-fish and open it, clearing my throat before going over to Rhys' car and gently lowering myself in, my heart hammering in my chest. 

Rhys is wearing a checked shirt and black pants. His sneakers have been polished. His eyes gleam with anticipation and his mouth looks as enticing as ever.

I smile nervously, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Rhys clears his throat, “Should we go?”

“Erm... yeah. Yeah.” I look out of the window as we pull out of the driveway. Mentally pinching myself, I try to make conversation. “What did you do yesterday? When you left, I mean.”

“Oh, just errands. I needed some new stuff for the Tower, so I went out and got those.” Rhys says to me smiling, waving his hand dismissively. I nod and my mind fails to bring anything exciting or remotely interesting up. I sigh in relief as we stop outside a gas station.

As Rhys gets out of the car and goes over to the pump, I mentally kick and curse myself.

What the hell is wrong with me?? Why can't I even make simple conversation with Rhys? I'm so tongue-tied. Why?? Why can't I even look at him without blushing? Why can't we even talk?  Talking has never previously been a problem between Rhys and I. 

Rhys returns to the car, shooting me a dazzling smile. I smile back and Rhys starts the car, which is pretty happy now considering the fact that it's guzzled plenty of petrol and robbed the world of an already  receding fossil fuel. 

We drive in awkward silence to wherever we're going. I realise I don't know where we're going. “Rhys.” I turn to face him, “Where are we going?”

“We're going to the Tower. I thought you'd want to recuperate a little before having some lunch. We're going to go to Avril's house afterwards too.”

“Oh. What exactly do you mean by recuperate, Rhys?” I frown.

“Oh, not anything that requires energy.” Rhys waves his hand, “I thought you could relax and watch something on the telly.”

“Oh, okay.” I say, all the while knowing that I won't be able to sit still with him in the room. I don't know why I'm so god-damn jumpy today. Actually, scratch that. I do know why I'm so god-damn jumpy today. And in my opinion, I'm entitled to being so jumpy.

The car screeches as we pull up in front of the Tower. I get out and automatically take Rhys' hand as we skip towards the door. Rhys swings the doors open with his free hand and I freeze, my eyes wide.

There is a horde of people and supernatural species inside the Tower's main room, all of them holding glasses of wine flutes and dressed extravagantly. Ruby and Elijah are flitting about (both dressed formally and they look great, if I may say so) and then their eyes settle on us. Me, in my fancy top and skinny jeans. Rhys, in his usual sneakers and hastily-worn outfit. 

I shift awkwardly from foot to foot and look up at Rhys questioningly.

Rhys is just as bewildered as me, “I have no idea how this happened, Donna. Like I said, I just wanted you to be able to relax. This one is all down to those two right there.”

Ruby and Elijah stride over to us. “Hey.” Elijah says, “We organised a 'Welcome Back' party for you guys.”

“Elijah.” Rhys looks around, drags Ruby and Elijah out before closing the door behind us, shutting all the unsuspecting guests in. 

“We were kind of busy. I thought I told you that we were going to be caught up with other... arrangements. I'm sorry.”

Elijah's face drops with sorrow and then he plasters on a  smile, attempting rather feebly to conceal his all-too-obvious disappointment, “It's okay. You guys go ahead to wherever you want to go and Ruby and I will deal with the crowd. We'll be sure to entertain them. They'll be disappointed, naturally,  but we can deal with it.”

“Yeah, course we can. We're angels, we're practically invincible. What's a crowd of supernatural beings compared to us, huh?” Ruby smiles.

Rhys nods at Ruby appreciatively and then puts his hand on Elijah's shoulder, the first time he's ever touched him without the instinct to beat him up. I'm proud of him as he says with genuine remorse, “Elijah, I am so sorry. If I knew before, I would postponed my plans.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do, man.” Elijah shrugs and then grins down at me, “That's what you humans say down here, right?”

I nod in response, smiling. For a guy who was trying to kill me last summer, he's really pulling through.

Rhys winds his arm around my shoulders as Ruby and Elijah withdraw to the Tower, “Guess we're going to drop in on Avril a little early, huh?”

“I guess.” I say, leaning into him, feeling more at ease than I have all morning. Rhys kisses my forehead and then whispers, “We better get going before someone looks out a window and sees us, which will propel them into wondering why we're not inside mingling.”

I pull away hesitantly and get into the car. Rhys lowers himself in and we reverse all the way through the thick fog. 

We pull up outside Avril's house fifteen minutes later. Rhys sprints up the stairs to knock on the door. I lean against the car door, waiting for Avril to come to the door before jogging up the stairs to join Rhys at the threshold, my hand curling into his, fitting there rather snugly, as if it was made to be there, made to be held in Rhys' hand.

After being invited in, Rhys heads straight to Ethan.

Ethan beams at him, “Yo, dude. How's it going?”

“It's going... good, I guess.” Rhys looks back at me, as if checking I'm still in the room.

I take a seat next to Avril, who whispers in my ear, “Again, Rhys is so smoking hot and you are so smoking lucky!”

“I know, right?” We both giggle and then glance over at the boys.

Ethan is flexing his muscles, proud and more than happy to show them off to someone who hasn't already seen them thousands of times and Rhys has his hands in his pockets, nodding at all the right times, so it seems like he's listening.

But all of his attention is on me, really. 

I realise with an alarming jolt that Rhys and I don't usually talk to people without each other. We always are together and we always talk to the same people at the same time. Now he's talking to Ethan and I'm talking to Avril. To me, Rhys seems to be a little anxious and uncomfortable about this, it is almost as if he doesn't know what to do with himself now he doesn't have to fuss over me constantly.

I turn back to Avril and try to immerse myself in the conversation completely but time and time again, I find my attention swivelling back to Rhys automatically, just like he does with me. At six thirty, Avril and I go to the kitchen and begin to fix up some pasta.

I boil the pasta – not trusting Avril with fire as she is known worldwide for setting even the most inflammable things ablaze – and Avril microwaves the sauce up. Once the pasta is ready, I shift it all into a big bowl and rip open a packet of salad. Once I've dropped the salad into the bowl of pasta, Avril begins to kick up a fuss.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can you get the sauce? I don't want to touch it; it's hot.” Avril mumbles from where she's filing her nails.

I look over at her, rolling my eyes fondly, “Avril. You're not touching the actual sauce. It's in the packet, you won't be burned.”

“What if I am?” Avril glances up, horrified, “Then I'll have to go to hospital and then my mom will be worried and come home and then she'll find out Ethan Jones was here in her home and then she'll realise she doesn't know him and that she's never met him and she'll instinctively realise the fact that she has a rule that I can't bring home boys who she hasn't met before and then I'll be in deep, deep, deep trouble and then I'll be grounded and then I won't have no friends because I won't be able to socialise because I'll be grounded and then I'll be forced to – ”

“I get it.” I interrupt, “I get it, Avril. I'll take the sauce out, just to stop you from becoming a lonely loser.”

“Oh, thank you, Donna. You just saved yourself a whole lot of time and me a whole lot of unnecessary drama.” Avril stands up, starting to swagger out of the kitchen. I roll my eyes fondly after her and stop mid-roll when I hear a familiar chuckle.

I whirl around to see Rhys. He's standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Oh. Hey!” Avril smirks, “Where's Ethan?”

“Ethan? Oh, he's upstairs, raiding your mom's cupboard of expensive wine.” Rhys says casually, lifting his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. 

Avril blanches at this and then sprints out of the kitchen. I shake my head, sighing. Rhys breathes a laugh and walks over to me, placing one hand on either side, gripping the counter and boxing me in.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, as I gaze into the deep pools of his eyes.

“I am now.” I reply, feeling my breathing become shallower and shallower. If shallower is even a word. Rhys sends me a lop-sided smile, one that makes my heart flip over in an ecstatic somersault.

Rhys sniffs, “What are you making?” 

“Pasta.” I reply.

“I'll pass.” Rhys' face crinkles up adorably in distaste. 

“Why? Pasta is nice to look at and delicious to eat.” I say defensively.

Rhys grins down at me, “Yeah, maybe. However, I've never ate it and I don't plan to. I don't have to eat, anyway.”

“Oh yes, of course. Not having to eat. One of your many so-called talents.” I fake a huge yawn.

“Am I seeing this?” Rhys walks backwards, his hands covering his chest, his expression one of horror, “Are you... Are you starting to see my talents as plain and ordinary?”

I shrug, eagerly playing along.

“How... How dare you?” Rhys' eyes widen, “How dare you suggest that I am ordinary?! I'll have you know I'm the most non-ordinary person I have ever met!”

“Non-ordinary? Don't you mean extraodinary, Rhys? Non-ordinary!” I giggle into my hands at his oh-so-extensive vocabulary.

“Don't you mock me!” Rhys orders, walking over and scooping me up in his arms, “Oh, I'll punish you, I will. A good punishment at that. What is a good punishment for your sin?”

“A kiss.” I say.

“You'll be getting enough of those later on.” Rhys whispers, nipping at my ear. I shiver –  and not because I'm cold. Rhys sighs pleasantly into my neck, his cold breath picking goosebumps at my neck. I throw my arms around him, closing my eyes, burying my head in his shoulder, smiling against his skin. Rhys pushes me back against the worktop, trailing kisses along my jaw. I pull him closer to me, his warmth encircling the two of us in an invincible bubble.

I meld my lips with his, tugging at his hair. Rhys slides his tongue against my lip, making me gasp into his mouth. Rhys pushes me back further, his hands tightening on my back, pulling my torso to his, our chests grinding against each other. There's a sharp squeal from upstairs and Rhys and I jump apart hastily, the two of us gasping for breath.

I look up at the ceiling, swallowing. I look at Rhys, trying to compose myself. Rhys looks just as shaken.

What just happened between us? Spontaneous combustion? What was it? There's a sudden clattering and Ethan and Avril burst into the kitchen, laughing raucously.

I look away, trying to hide my obvious dishevelled-ness. Rhys swiftly moves to the microwave, taking the sauce out and pouring it into the pasta bowl. I take some tongs and toss the whole thing, mixing the pasta, salad and sauce together. Once I'm done, I carry it to the table and Rhys brings out a bottle of cola and some shot glasses.

“These are the only glasses I could find.” He explains, in a sheepish way.

Avril laughs, leaning against Ethan, “We're drinking cola in shot glasses! The horror, the horror!! We're drinking cola shots!”

Ethan booms with laughter, making the whole table shake threateningly, “COLA SHOTS!! HAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Cola shots! Cola shots! Cola shots! Cola shots!” They both start to chant repeatedly.

I look at the two of them, feeling more than a little freaked out. I look up at Rhys who bends down to whisper, “They both have been raiding Avril's mom's wining cabinet.”

I raise my eyebrows in acknowledgement. They're both drunk, the idiots. I can't wait till Avril's mom comes home and realises half her beer and wines are missing. She treasures those things like diamonds. 

“Avril.” I say, reaching across the table and taking her hand, “Eat the pasta.”

“Okay, Mother.” Avril says sarcastically, taking a mouthful of pasta and putting it in her mouth. After chewing it down to a pulp, she opens her mouth, directing the chewed pasta at Ethan, who finds that gesture utterly hilarious. He doesn't waste a minute in following her example and soon enough, they're both laughing enough to bring the house down. 

I stand, snatching up both of their plates. 

“That's enough!” I say firmly, catching both of their attention. I hand the plates to Rhys, who takes them into the kitchen obediently. 

“I've had just about enough from the two of you! Now you are going to shut up and sit there or else I'll kick you both out and you can sit in the middle of the road!! And then when Avril's mom comes home, you can both explain to to her why you're so drunk!” 

Avril and Ethan lean their heads together, pursing their lips and pressing their fingers to their mouths. 

I look at their wide eyes, all innocent and victim-y looking. I have to stride out of the room before I start laughing. Rhys is in the kitchen, loading the dishes into the dishwasher serenely. I watch him calmly for a few moments, thinking he doesn't know I've entered.

But, much to my surprise, he turns around and smirks at me, “Enjoying what you see?”

“Oh, you know it.” I grin back, wondering how we've suddenly become so playful when usually everything is so serious between us.

Rhys beams, walking forward to take my hand, “You seem uneasy, beautiful.”

“Yeah, it's those two.” I nod my head towards the dining room, trying not to let the 'beautiful' thing go to my head as it is severely tempted to do, “I don't know if we should leave them while they're so drunk.”

Rhys sniggers, “It's their own fault. I warned Ethan and you warned Avril. They're both all grown-up, they can look after themselves.”

“Yeah, but I'm still worried about them. What if they puke?”

Rhys chuckles deeply, “The worst thing puking will do is the fact that it will teach them a lesson they deserve. Come on now, we don't want to leave them alone for too long. If we don't sober them up now, they'll probably convince each other to try to swallow a sock or something.”

Rhys and I make our way back to the dining room. Avril and Ethan are still holding their index fingers to their lips, their heads joined together. 

“Did you and Rhys go to have a little kissy-kissy?” Ethan asks, giggling. Avril joins in with the inane tittering and then, most probably remembering my outburst, rapidly shushes Ethan. 

“Right, you two. I've got a plan. We're going to go outside for a few minutes.” I say, clasping my hands together. Avril and Ethan scramble to their feet, rushing out of the back door before I can say another word.

I turn and Rhys asks, “What's your plan?”

I smirk and reply, “Just follow me and all shall be revealed in a matter of time.”

Once we're outside, I allow Avril and Ethan to talk between themselves. Sneakily, I lead Rhys to the shed. We both emerge just a few minutes later bearing huge water hoses, turning them on and roaring, spraying Avril and Ethan with extensive spasms of icy water. They both shriek like little girls, gasping from the cold and dash about, trying to find a safe hiding place. 

Deciding to go for it with enthusiasm, Ethan launches himself into the pool, emerging seconds later, raking in as much oxygen as he can. Rhys and Avril follow suit, both shrieking as they hit the icy water. I roll my eyes before taking two steps back and sprinting towards the pool, my arms pumping. I scream out, “Cannonball!” before throwing myself into the pool. 

I fight my way to the surface, laughing and pushing my drenched hair back. Ethan wades over to me, splashing me with a spray of water. I skim my hand over the surface of the water casually, before launching myself at him, forcing him down into the water. “Hey!” Ethan splutters before throwing me off himself and swimming back to the surface. 

Before he gets me again, I wade away, trying to find Rhys in the dark. A hand grabs my waist, pulling me underwater. I hold my breath, attempting to keep my eyes open, looking around to see who dragged me. The hand – seemingly disembodied – drags me further underwater and I start to panic...