9:01 am
“I just thought of something.” Mike mumbled. He was laying on the ground his arms covering his face.
I laid at the other side of the elevator in a similar position. “Mmm?” I mumbled. We had been trying to get some sleep, but it was impossible to fall asleep in here. Even though I felt very weak. I hadn’t eaten since the French fries, my mouth felt dry of dehydration and I was also just exhausted.
“We might have to be in here for longer than I first thought.” He said carefully, probably trying to not make me angry. Which pissed me of more. I was not nice when I was tired.
I groaned. “Why?” my voice was muted by my arms around my face.
I heard his arms fall on the ground. “Because it’s Sunday. They might not find us until very late.”
“Jeez Mike, this is New York city, not some lame ass village in Kentucky. Of course people work on Sunday” I said and I also let my arms slip from my face.
“Yeah but mostly only after twelve or something.” He said. He didn’t even seem offended any more by my insulting tone. He was already getting used to me after seven hours of being in an elevator with me.
“So we have to wait another three hours?” I said not even trying to hide my annoyance anymore.
“Yeah probably.” He mumbled, sounding a bit annoyed too. Can’t blame the guy. I would get annoyed if I was locked up in a room with myself for ten hours, without food.
We had been in the elevator for seven hours now and it really got to our mood. The lack of food and liquids were a definite reason, but the worst of all reasons was the boredom. We really got tired of playing poker by now, we were out of small talk and sleeping was practically impossible, laying on this hard ground.
I got up in a sitting position, because my back started hurting from laying on the ground for so long. I sat down against the elevator walls and got my phone out and stared at the time that was visible on my lock screen. I was waiting for the time to change from 8:03 to 8:04. I got frustrated as it took really long. When the time finally changed I didn’t even feel satisfied. Exactly seven hours had past and we still had two hours and fifty-six minutes to go. Oh, wait fifty-five now.
The boredom started to literally eat me now. I had always been an impatient person, I always needed to have something to do. And luckily for me I always had something to do. Grating tests, watching a movie, going to the gym…Normally I had too little time to do what I wanted to do. Now I had too much time for the limited things that I could do in here. It kind of pissed me of that I couldn’t do the things I normally did when I wasn’t trapped in a metal box.
“I’m bored.” I stated, practically throwing my phone to the ground. I quickly checked it to see if it was broken, though. It might’ve been useless back then, but I still needed it after we left this place.
“What do you expect me to do about it?” He asked grumpy. His eyes were shut and he had his arms laid next to his body. It gave me an opportunity to study the tattoos on his right arm. He had a yellow and red rose on his hand and on his fingers was written ‘evil’. He probably had another word on the fingers of his left hand, they probably formed a phrase. Why would anyone otherwise tattoo ‘evil’ on their hand? His shoulder was covered by a zombie with a police cap on its head and under it was another rose, a red one this time. Next to the zombie was a sword that covered most of the back of his right arm.
I stopped looking then, as I saw his smirking face looking at me. “Are you checking me out?” He said and he shot me a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “No, I was just looking at your tattoos.” I said and he sat up again too. He looked at me with a surprised look. “Didn’t quite see you as a tattoo type.” He mumbled.
“I’m not.” I said. “But I’ve always wondered what story is behind some tattoos.” I let my eyes quickly slide over his body. Surely there were some tattoos that held a story. Although, I doubt if the zombie has any meaning at all.
Mike raised an eyebrow. “You think my tattoos have a meaning?” he said.
“Maybe not all of them, but you’ve got a lot of them. There has to be at least one that has a story behind it.” I said.
A smile grew on his face. “You want to know some?” He said and I saw something in his eyes sparkle. His tattoos certainly meant a lot to him.
I nodded at him, giving him a little smile. He scooped a little closer to me and so we both sat there. Both our legs crossed, our knees touching each other’s.
He tilted his head a little and stroked over a yellow and blue tattoo in his neck. With black letters was written on it: ‘heart & soul’. “My dad is also a musician and he always told me to play with my heart and soul.” He said and he lowered his head back. “It was something I wanted to remember. I still kinda live by that quote.”
I thought about how he played the drums on stage. It definitely seemed like he put his heart and soul in it. Emotions were evident on his face the whole time and he used all the energy that was in his body. That was one of the things I liked about the concert, I had never seen artists play with more passion.
He held up his hands and I saw that on the fingers of his left fingers was tattooed: ‘dead’. Now I got it. ‘Evil dead’ was a movie, a very good movie for what I remember.
But Mike raised his left hand and pointed instead to the red and yellow rose. Only now I saw that in black letters was written on the rose: ‘madre’. “My mother and dad have always been my biggest supporters and I love them a lot.” He said and he pointed to his left hand on which a blue anchor was visible. On the anchor was tattooed: ‘padre’.
“Why in Spanish?” I asked as I stared at his hands, taking in the beautiful curls of the letters.
“My parents are from Mexico.” He answered. “Me and Vic were born in San Diego, though.”
I nodded without looking away from the words on his hands. “And the zombies?” I asked as I saw that he had multiple zombies on his body.
He grinned. “I kind of have an obsession with fantasy and horror.” I looked up again. That caught my attention.
“Fantasy? So, you’re actually kind of dorky, huh?” I said, teasing him a bit.
He laughed and started scratching his neck, flexing his muscles doing so. “Yeah, maybe a little.” He said and nodded.
“Favorite movie or book?” I asked. Books and movies were my weakness. That’s why I became a an English teacher. I loved stories. All kind of stories. It was basically a way for me to escape reality. Things were so much better in fictional worlds.
He sighed and simply answered my question by pointing at his left thigh. Visible from under his shorts was a tattoo of a little boy with black hair, round glasses and a lightening shaped scar on his forehead. Harry Potter.
My eyes widened. “No way! Harry Potter?” I asked enthusiastically. My mouth fell open.
He laughed at my face. “From your reaction I assume that you like it?”
“That’s an understatement.” I said as I looked at the detailed picture of Harry. “I practically grew up with the books. And the movies are great too.”
I saw that familiar sparkle in his eyes again. “Me too. I guess I’m the biggest potterhead alive.” He said and chuckled a little embarrassed at his own statement.
“I don’t know what books and movies your also like, but you already have a good taste of stories in my opinion, Mr. Fuentes.” I joked and I playfully poked him in his chest.
“Of course I do.” He said, repeatedly raising both of his eyebrows. “By the way, this isn’t the only Harry Potter tattoo I have.” He pointed at his other thigh were a white owl with a snapback and sunglasses on was tattooed.
I laughed at the funny version of Hedwig. That was quite original! “That one is awesome.” I said grinning.
“It kinda is, right?” He said.
This situation was a great example of the fact that people only look at the bigger picture. When people see someone with a lot of tattoos, they only see that he is tattooed, not what kind of tattoos that person has. You can only see them when you get closer and see them. Humanity not only does that with tattoos, but also with people in general. They see a person and judge them without looking at the details. Only when they get to know that person better they learn all the little details about that person.
Mike raised his left hand so his palm was facing me. On it, was a triangle with a circle and a vertical line in it. It was the symbol of the deathly hallows. That part of the story always interested me a lot. Especially the little fairytale that came along with it. It had a strong meaning.
Without knowing what I was doing I raised my hand and traced the lines on his palm with my index fingers. It was a simple tattoo, but it held more meaning for me then he could possibly know and for some reason I knew it did for him too. The memories of this story were written inside my mind forever.
When I looked to his face I saw him shooting me a soft smile. An understanding smile. I got a little lost in his eyes, not realizing my finger was still connected to his hand.
My mind was screaming to look away, while my heart and every nerve in my body was screaming to kiss him.
But my mind didn’t have control over me anymore. I stretched out my hand against his and intertwined my fingers with his. I did this without looking away from him. I gave him one more hint by letting my eyes slowly slide to his lips.
I heard his breathing speed up as he leaned in and got closer to me. His lips were only a few inches away from me when I realized what I was doing.
I quickly pulled back and let go of his hand. I let my hands fall in my lap and looked down at them. What the fuck was wrong with me? I would never do someone like that.
In the corner of my eyes I saw him lean back again and scoop away from me a little. “Okay…” he said a little confused.
“What?” I said annoyed. I knew it wasn’t fair to put this on him, but I was angry on myself and I needed to let it out.
“I thought you wanted to kiss me.” He said. Wow. He really felt no shame.
“Why would you think that?” I said and I couldn’t help but let a little disgust sound in my voice. I know I was only pushing him away because I was scared, maybe even scared to fall. It wasn’t just him, I had been hurt before so many times and I didn’t wanted it to be repeated.
“Seriously?!” He asked, he sounded a little insulted. I looked up to him and I saw anger on his face. “You took my hand and looked at my lips. You were dropping very clear hints.” He said a little louder than normal.
“You’re not my type” I said, ignoring the fact that he was right. I looked over to the wall right from me and crossed my arms over my chest.
I knew he was rolling his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t meet up to your expectations.” He mumbled. “It was just a kiss. It wasn’t like I was proposing or something.”
I let out a small chuckle. “Luckily you weren’t.”
“Have a nice life, Amara.” Mike said and he scooped over to the other side of the elevator, laying down on the ground with his back facing me.
Good, he hated me now. It was better like this. At least we wouldn’t have the need to stay in contact after all of this was over. At least he wouldn’t miss me. Not that he would’ve anyway.
I mean, I didn’t mean anything to him. I was just a bitchy stranger in an elevator. He kissed me because he was bored. How could he have known that kisses held trauma’s for me?
I thought back at the memory of my first kiss. I was seventeen years old. My best friend back then, Lizzie, had taken me to this party. It was in the house of some guy of the football team from her school. I wasn’t very popular, but Lizzie was and that’s how she got me into this parties. I was happy so, because I loved parties. It was again a way to escape the reality.
Also I had this weird unrealistic image in my head of parties. I always imagined a handsome guy being interested in me and starting to flirting with me.
That never happened though. I was very shy back then (yes, really. I got so rude and open-minded over the years) and I had not the slightest idea of how to flirt.
And I didn’t even mention the fact yet that I wasn’t exactly good looking. I had a face full of acne and I was a little chubbier back then. But still I somehow believed in the fairytale I had made up in my head.
Lizzie took my hand and dragged me towards the living room, where lots of people were dancing. We also started dancing and I quickly got carried away by the music.
Not long after we started dancing, Lizzie had locked eyes with a tall guy a few feet away from us. He was incredibly handsome, like those Abercrombie and Fitch models. Way out of my league of course, but not for Lizzie.
She was practically the type of girl that girls like me wanted to look like. She had dark curly her that reached until her butt, her skin was tanned and she had an amazing body. She wore tight black jeans and a tight black polo that accentuated her beautiful curves.
I had been friends with her since I was thirteen and she was kind of the reason that I discovered that I was bisexual. Not that I had a crush on her or something, but I just looked at her differently than other girls would. Okay, maybe I had a tiny crush on her, but it didn’t matter, she was my best friend and if she wasn’t, she would still be way out of my league.
The Abercrombie guy smiled at her and Lizzie smiled back. I saw him making his way through the crowd and Lizzie also moved until they were standing across from each other.
They started dancing with each other and I stood there a little awkward, not really knowing what to do. This had happened before, she always had admirers at parties with whom she always ended up dancing and making out. But for some reason I still hadn’t found out a way to not make things awkward for myself.
And yes, after one song the making out started. I looked away from them, not wanting to look like a creepy person, while I was dancing by myself. It looked ridiculous, but I couldn’t just walk away, because we promised to stay together.
At times, she pulled away from his lips to look at me and shoot me a questioning face, like she was trying to find out if I minded that she went on. I always just waved it away and shot her a smile. But I knew she didn’t like it when I was standing alone. She was a good friend like that.
After a few songs she seemed to have a discussion with Abercrombie guy and they both looked at me while talking. Oh wow guys. It’s not obvious that you’re talking about me at all.
Eventually Lizzie walked over to me and grabbed my arms. She bowed down a little to shout in my ear: “Are you sure you are okay?”
I nodded and screamed “Yeah” over the music.
She still looked concerned and leaned over again. “It gets time for you to get your first kiss.” She shouted.
I furiously shook my head. My first kiss had to be something special. Not something I got at a party with a guy I barely knew. After my first kiss I had lots of time to do things like that.
She sighed and nodded at me. “Yes, Amara. You’re seventeen. Don’t think about it too much.”
I bit my lip. I did desperately wanted to know what it felt like. In my mind it had been this amazing thing. “I don’t dare to.” I said barely loud enough to hear due to the loud music.
She shot me a sympathetic smile. She looked around the room and finally kept her eyes on a tall guy with black hair and tanned skin. She walked towards him and whispered something in his ear. She pointed at me and the guy looked to me. He had an uncertain look on his face. He said something back to her and they started walking back to me. The guy came really close to me. “Okay.” He said. “But only one kiss.” He said.
Panic started racing in my body. No! No! No! This wasn’t really happening! My best friend had obviously asked him to kiss me. Not only was that embarrassing, I also wasn’t the slightest bit attracted to this guy.
He leaned in and I looked down avoiding his face, but he kept trying. Eventually I just gave up and let his lips touch mine. He moved them and I followed, being surprised at how easy this was. Very soon his tongue slid into my mouth and that seemed to be incredibly easy too.
The kiss itself was alright. I didn’t feel a spark or connection. It was emotionless. But back then, I hardly knew what a spark felt like. I had this weird thought in my head that he would ask me for my number afterwards and we would maybe go on a date.
But when he pulled away he didn’t even smile and just walked away from me. I had never felt so self-conscious in my entire life.
I felt like I was about to cry. I had lost my first kiss to a slightly intoxicated guy I hardly knew, on a house party on which I knew nobody. This was supposed to be something special.
Lizzie walked to me with a big smile on his face, but the smile faded as she saw my face. “What’s wrong?” She said and I just shook my head as warm tears started rolling over my cheeks.
Lizzie and I got outside and I told her what was on my mind. She had told me that movies and books made these really special things of kisses, but they really weren’t. She told me that her first kiss was nothing special either, sex was something that one needed to do with someone special for the first time, but kissing wasn’t like that. Kissing was just fun.
I guess she was right. It wasn’t as special as people made it out to be. But I had never really shaken the regret I had felt after that kiss.
To make that night worse, we had ran into him again that night. I said ‘hi’ to him and he basically just laughed in my face, saying that I shouldn’t stalk him and that I was a very bad kisser.
This was only the first of a lot of broken hearts I had had in my life. And that was the reason why I couldn’t do something so innocent as kissing Mike, even though he didn’t meant a lot to me…yet.

Notes

heeyyy guys!

So this is a little longer than the rest of the chapters in this story are. I didn't have planned what would happen in this chapter at all, I just started writing and then this happened XD

I only posted four chapters and I already have 700 views and 7 subscribers! Thank you guys! It means a lot to me! you have no idea how much! :*

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Nicky