Ren

"Hey, Dad, I'm home," I call after I let the door slam shut behind me, and without waiting for an answer, I race upstairs to be alone again with my thoughts. 

What the hell just happened? He seemed so completely into me one minute and totally cold the next. God, he is so freaking hot, though! I love everything about the way he looks, the way he moves, the way his lips feel... the way his hands... I hope he asks me to be his girlfriend again.

Ren, stop. You're letting your emotions for him run away with you! 

Gio definitely brought back all my hard crush feelings from junior high—and more! But there's now a new feeling I don't quite recognize that's trying to put the brakes on my feelings. 

I guess my guard has been up ever since getting hurt by Ryder, but I've always played it off to my friends that I didn't. 'I never liked him that much anyway,' I told them—and I've said it so often now I really started to believe it.

But deep down, it isn't true. I had let my heart attach to him, and he had stabbed me in the back. My parents' divorce and breaking up with Ryder taught me why you should be very cautious in matters of the heart.

Ryder's a cute, tall, fairly built, talented skateboarder—by now, you might know that's just my type. He had been very sweet in the beginning. The bad ones always are, right? Saying the cutest things, writing me little notes, or snuggling with me backstage at late-night rehearsals. I loved the attention and the idea of having a boyfriend—I was the last of my friends to have one.

He's the only guy I've ever had sex with. He had wanted to since nearly the beginning of our relationship, so, at nearly three months in, New Year's Eve seemed like a good time to take that step.

After that, my feelings for him increased—I had this urge to be with him all the time, but the more I tried to be close to him, the more he pulled away. By February, he turned into quite the royal prick, and I hardly saw him except at parties. 

We had a big fight the day after Valentine's Day. I hate having conflict in any relationship (probably a product of my parent's divorce), but I just got so fed up with his behavior and attitude. That very weekend, he went and hooked up with Aalya's best friend Heather at a party to sabotage the relationship. I told you she was trouble, didn't I? I found out right away and called him on the phone to end it.

"Ryder—" I began. He knew what was coming and interrupted me: "Don't ever call me, look at me, or speak to me again, 'cause this shit is over!" and hung up on me.

I just stood there holding the phone's receiver in shock. Who should be breaking up with who here? I felt caught out. After that, I became skeptical of boys and relationships. 

I know the way I'm already feeling about Gio is way more intense than I had ever felt about Ryder. Gio could hurt me far more deeply. I need to be on guard. Take it slow.

I get out my sketchbook and start drawing to distract me from my mono-focused attention. Concentrating on my art blocks out most of my intrusive thoughts, but unconsciously, my hand forms the face of a boy who looks just like Gio. 

Blowing off some eraser flakes, I survey the drawing and smile—immensely pleased that I have managed to capture his eyes so perfectly. I add a heart next to it. Then I write his name. Then, write my name with his last name. 

Shit! What are you doing?

I immediately erase all that off the page. 

Don't let yourself care so much this soon!

Thump-thump goes the broom handle on the ceiling of the kitchen. "Ren! Come down to dinner!" My dad's muffled call comes from downstairs. 

I love that about my dad—he just lets me be alone practically as long as I want.  When I'm at my mom's house, I can only sneak away by myself for thirty minutes tops before she comes looking for me—asking me what I'm up to, or worse yet, what I'm thinking about! 

The most deliciously sweet and savory smell enters my nostrils as I bounce down the stairs and join him at our modest, round, wood dining table for two.

"How was your day, daughter-doo?" He smiles, trying to make conversation as we eat his delicious honey-baked ham dinner. 

But I don't hear the question—I'm thinking about Gio again.

"Ren?"

"Hmm?" 

He raises his eyebrows at me and taps me on the forehead. "How was your day?"

"Oh... it was fine. Nothing much happened," I answer with a slight smile and a shrug, and I stuff another bite into my mouth—just like any typical teen who shares practically zero with her parents. 

"Okay," and just lets it drop unbothered, and I'm more than a little pleased when he doesn't inquire why I seem to be so preoccupied. 

We eat the rest of our meal in comfortable silence. I help him clean up the dishes after dinner and fold some of my 'laun-drag' (as he calls it) together on the sofa while we watch a bit of the news, then carry it with me upstairs.

After I shut the door to my room, I feel compelled to put on my old Metallica tape, turning up 'Nothing Else Matters' loud—the song I had listened to on repeat three years ago. I lie in the middle of my bed, arms stretched out, and close my eyes, taking it in. I let it transport me.

All at once, my eyes shoot open, and I jump off my bed with a burst of energy. The familiar urge to make a mix tape takes hold. Yes! All the songs that remind me of him! I love making mix tapes and have an ever-growing collection.

Grabbing my spiral notebook and a pen to make a list, I then pull all my CDs and tapes out in a mess on the floor, finding the ones I'm looking for. Ok, first song... Pearl Jam 'Even Flo'.

My boom box has two tape decks, and I pop my tape in the first tape deck and rewind and fast-forward it till I get it set up at the perfect spot to start the song. Then, with my excitement nearly bubbling over, I pick open the cellophane wrapping of a new blank tape and put it in the second deck. 

Placing my two fingers on the play and record buttons, I then smash them down like a conductor striking the first wave of his baton to start the orchestra. I impatiently listen to the song as it plays all the way through before hitting stop at the precise second the song ends. Happy with the list of songs I have curated so far, I repeat the process for the next five songs. 

The process grinds to a halt because I just have to include "You're Making Me High" from today in his room, but I don't have it. 

Would any of my friends have that album? Doubtful. My friends don't listen to R&B. But Hanna's friends might. I decide I'll ask them tomorrow at lunch. 

Plan B will be to buy the tape. But who wants to buy an entire album for just one song? Not me! So, Plan C will be to stalk the radio for the next few months—finger at the ready, to press record when, randomly, the song airs—but I really hope it won't come to that.

It's now past ten o'clock, and I need to get to sleep. I climb into my bed and fall asleep to the memories of his kisses today and the ones after the dance three years ago mingling together.

...

Gio

I'm on my way to Study Hall with Adam, and my stomach is in a knot. I barely touched my lunch and didn't talk at all at the break—I don't know fucking what to do about seeing Ren today. I should've ditched school with Eddie before lunch ended.

After Ren left my house two days ago, I found my sister and bribed her with the use of my Gameboy to keep her mouth shut. Problem solved, I guess, but I think I have a bigger problem now.

I can't fucking get her out of my head. Sure, I had a crush on her before, but I swore off girls last semester—all my friends know why, and I had successfully gotten her and all other high school girls off my mind. I allowed myself celebrity crushes only—Claudia Shiffer and my hand have been enough.

But ever since I spotted Ren in class two weeks ago, I can't stop thinking about her. Claudia's nowhere to be found—Ren's stars in all my bedroom fantasies now, and after getting her topless in my room, I have way too much visual material to work with. Shit. The thought is giving me a semi right now. And that would be fine—it's the other stuff that's getting to me. I feel out of control... emotionally? I don't know. I don't like it. I mean, I do. I—I don't think I want to like it.

Where is this going? Is she going to want me to ask her out? To be my girlfriend? I wanted that at one time. But I'm not sure how I feel now.

We reach the cafeteria, and against my will to do otherwise, I catch her eye as I come in. She discreetly waves to me, and I discreetly wave back. After being so intimate with her the other day, it feels weird to be back in a school setting together. 

I ignore her most of class, and I'm starting to feel like a complete dick. Most of my friends don't know anything's going on between us yet, and I don't want them to—they'll rip into me with their stupid jokes, and Adam will get all concerned. Fuck that shit. Ugh! I hate feeling so insecure.

The bell rings, and my stomach goes all queasy. Do I talk to her after class? I should, but I don't know what to say yet. 

"You coming, G?" Adam says when I don't get up immediately.

"Oh. Yeah," I stall. 

Then I panic. Grabbing my bag, I get up and start walking out the door with them. I look over my shoulder to catch Ren clamp her mouth shut and start forcefully shoving things into her backpack like she's trying to kill a small rodent in there. 

Fuck. I'm such a cowardly asshole.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you in a sec," I say to Adam as we pass out the front doors, then step to the side and drop down to pretend to tie my shoelace.

Adam and the gang walk off to the bus line up without me. Standing, I'm about to go back in, but Ren flings open the door to the cafeteria and stalks out. Just then, the sun emerges from a cloud, and she stops and blinks a little in the brightness.

"Hey, Ren," I say.

She spins around, startled. "Oh! I thought you left."

"I, um, I..." I falter. Heat crawls up the back of my neck (as fucking usual), and I scratch at it. "I needed to walk my friends out first, but um... then I stayed because..." 

Shit. I can't explain how I feel.

"Because... what?" she asks, raising her eyebrows, annoyed with me. Damn, she's so hot when she's annoyed at me. 

A surge of excitement hits me, and I can't seem to help myself—apparently, it is beyond my control to stay away. I look into her beautiful eyes and approach her.

"You gotta pager?" I inquire, boldly checking out her front pants pockets with my fingers—but they're empty. The appropriate moment to remove my hands comes and goes, so I keenly keep my two fingers tucked inside, loving the heat I feel from her body. 

"Yes," she says, taunting me with a hella sexy look in her eyes, finally taking my hands from her pockets.

She tries to drop my hands, but I flip them over and take hold of hers. Acting almost on their own accord, our fingers weave together. The electricity from yesterday zings up my body with her touch. 

"I need that number," I growl with a half smile.

"Oh, yeah?" she smirks with her eyebrows raised.

Damn it. I love it when she plays with me!

She releases my hands, fishes a pen out of her backpack, and, in our junior high tradition, she writes her pager number on my wrist. I take the pen from her and write my pager number on hers. I smile with satisfaction, having marked her with something of mine. 

"You're going to call me this time, right?" she questions, narrowing her eyes in playful warning.

I smile widely. "I asked for it, didn't I?" 

She slings her backpack on her shoulder and walks off a few steps. "Well, you didn't last time..." she reminds me from over her shoulder, then she turns back around to face me again, her eyes sparkling. 

"I've changed a little since I was thirteen," I shoot back with a hint of a smirk, shouldering my backpack in a way that I think shows off my upper physique.

"I guess I can see that," she hums low, her eyes licking up my body while walking slowly backward. 

Ugh! She is so being so coy and sexy. 

"So, you want to 'hang out again'?" she smirks, making little bunny ears with her fingers.

Oh my fuck. When did she get this confident? My knees go weak, and my heart begins to pound. I'm losing my cool. It's so frustrating! She must see what she's doing to me because she gives me this victorious, dazzling smile. Get your shit together, Gio!

"I dunno, maybe," I reply, smiling impishly. 

With my eyes twinkling, I close the distance between us again. Our small conversation feels charged and exciting, like playing a new game, unsure what will happen next.

"Only maybe?" 

She stops walking and puts her hands on her hips, acting miffed. I catch up to where she's standing—standing much closer than necessary, only a few inches between us. Electric tingles go up my spine.

"Hmm... I'll have ta think about it," holding her gaze, getting my confidence back, but unable to contain the fire in my eyes and the giddy smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

She sizes up my expression in an instant, unfooled.

"Alright then, Mr. Cool. Talk to you when I do," she retorts with a playful glare and turns to walk away again.

No way, Ren! That can't be the end of it!

"I'm joking." I grab her arm, pull her back to me, and say as low and deep as I can, "Of course, I want to hang out again." Then I whisper something else true in her ear, "I can't stop thinking about... the other day."

Shit. I almost said you.

But I think she knows anyway because she sucks in her plump bottom lip, letting her teeth rub against it as it pops back out, and blood rushes out of my head to my pants. I want to kiss her so badly, but I'm sure all my friends are watching us right now. I'm going to get the fucking third-degree about this on the ride home.

"I better get my bus," I say with my eyes still on her pink lips and with a voice so low and gravelly with desire it surprises even me. 

"Okay," she says, with her eyes so wide and open into mine—and in that moment, she's the most beautiful thing in the world. 

I feel slightly drugged by her as I say softly, "See you later, pretty girl. I'll call you soon, I promise." 

My words seem to knock her back for a second, but then she recovers.

"Hmm. Okay. I guess we'll see," she squints at me with a smile. Then, abruptly she turns and leaves me standing there, watching her fine ass strutting off to her car. 

I am so fucked.

https://youtu.be/xILCwggxJHM

••• A/N •••

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this chapter, please vote for it by tapping the star :)

I love Gio's POV so much now I'm adding him in more than I thought.

Has anyone else made a mixtape? 

If so did you name it something fun?

Want to see the pager messages Gio sends Ren? 

Head over to the next chapter.