Never The Same Love Twice

by Charity Rose

  “I’m saying that judging by your face, it looks like parties aren’t your type of thing,” he says. I honestly don’t want to talk to anyone right now. But I don’t want to come off as rude either. I shrug my shoulders and purse my lips.

  “Yeah, parties aren’t exactly my cup of tea,” I admit, hoping he doesn’t answer. I’m not in the mood to take up small talk. My phone rings in my hand, and I pick it up without looking. Anything to get out of what I imagine is about to be an extremely awkward conversation, “Yes,” I say in a serene tone.

  “Look to your right,” its Keith. I make a face, “What on Earth does that mean?” I start to ask, but I do as he says, I turn my head and there he is. Keith, looking as handsome as ever in a full tuxedo, tie and shiny shoes, his hair slicked back and clean-shaven. The navy-blue fabric with pale blue pinstripes matches his eyes perfectly. He stands with his hands, politely folded over each other.

  My mouth falls open as I rise to greet him, ignoring the man that was at the table with me.

  “Surprise,” he says quickly crossing the room to greet me, he hoists me into the air and then were kissing passionately, like he’s gone years without seeing me, and I don’t care that everyone is looking at us. I want to devour him; I want to feel every inch of his skin. My hands pull him by his tie, forcing him to kiss me harder and deeper, and he groans into my mouth. I can hear people whispering, and reality comes flooding back in.

  “Come on, let’s move before my parents see you!” I say and grabbing his hand, I lead him out of the main hall and down one of the annexes, till we come to a place where no one else seems to be. I curl our bodies into one of the draped tapestries that hangs from atop the pillars that line each hall. No one can see us like this, not easily anyway.

  I maintain my grip on his tie, pulling him against me as I press my back to the pillar. Out of impulse, I wrap my left leg around his hip, causing the dress to slide away and reveal one bare leg. He jolts upright. The surprise is written across his face. “Fuck! Vee, are you trying to drive me insane? I came because I wanted to see you and surprise you. I could tell you were miserable over the phone. But damn, you look so beautiful. This dress of yours,” he pulls at the fabric of my dress. “All I want to do now is take it off you,” My cheeks heat up. I internally squeal. “Since day one, you’ve driven me crazy. But now that you’re mine, I can barely control myself,” he says, his eyes glazed over as he leans in to kiss me again. When we part, he reaches a hand out for me, and I interlace our fingers, “Can we go back to the party now. I really want to dance with my girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend,” I say, cheekily with a grin and shake my shoulders, “I love how that word rolls off your tongue.”

  “Oh, really,” he teases, pressing his forehead to mine, “Girl-friend,” he rolls the word softly, making me shiver. I pout, I don’t want to leave yet, but if I’m gone for too long, my parents will start to look for me. If people say they saw me dancing with someone, then at least my parents would know I’m ok and won’t come looking for me. But still.

  “Keith,” I stop him. “We have to be careful if my parents spot you, I’m dead,” I say.

  “Vee,” he holds my face in his hands and lowers himself, so he’s at my level. “I won’t mess this up for you. I just want to spend the night with you,” he kisses the tip of my nose. A sweet yet silly gesture that makes me care for him even more. We compose ourselves and head into the party. There’s no looking back now.

  The room is crowded. It’ll be easy to keep Keith away from my parents. Without a second guess, Keith takes my hand and guides me to the dance floor; all the way to the back to make sure we aren’t recognised by my parents. From this distance, they will just see that I’m dancing and having a good time with someone.

  We start swaying to the rhythm. I lean my head on his chest, and I feel his arms go lower on my back, holding me gently at the orbit of my hips. I breathe in his scent, the mint is always there, and I’ve accepted that this is part of his natural scent. It’s comforting, and as we sway together, I feel his chin rest against the top of my head, and I’ve never been happier in my life.

  Chapter 20

  As I wake from a good night’s sleep, I can’t help but smile. Last night was amazing thanks to Keith. I can’t believe he drove to the hotel to be with me for the night. I mean he left his mother and grandmother to come to see me all because I was having a bad time. That is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Most of all, I’m glad we weren’t caught. That’s the most important thing of all. Although my mom was suspicious of the stupid grin, I had plastered on my face after the event. Keith had managed to slip out of the party at roughly fifteen minutes before midnight so that he had time to get his car and be well on his way home before we were.

  Today is Christmas, and I couldn’t be more excited. I can’t help it. There is just something special about the holidays, and Keith made it all the better last night. I feel like I’m glowing. When I step out of bed, I nearly fall down when I stumble on a giant present sitting on the floor.

  I pick up the box and take a seat back on the bed and wonder what’s inside. The paper is beautifully decorated; silver with penguins wearing Christmas hats dancing across the snow. I open the box and nearly fall off the bed; my eyes tear up just by seeing the gift, and I know it isn’t from my parents. As if on cue, I pick up a small card that I find inside and read it:

  There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.

  – Keith (with credit to the Fitz.)

  I laugh out loud, of course, only hopeless literature obsessed romantics like Keith would quote F. Scott Fitzgerald. One of the most beautiful love quotes you could hope to woo a woman with. I have always wanted to read The Great Gatsby, but I put it off so long I had forgotten altogether. Now I hold in my hands a first edition of the book, and I cannot contain my emotions. I carefully keep the book, still in the box, away from my body, so I don’t get a single tear on it. I turn on my phone and video, call Keith. He picks up immediately.

  I hope I haven’t woken him up; it’s only around 6:00am. Judging by his face, messy hair, and the headboard behind him, there’s no doubt I woke him. Now I feel bad for doing so. “Merry Christmas!” I chirp through a fog of tears.

  “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he says his voice is groggy, he’s rubbing his eyes. He looks so cute, freshly woken up.

  He’s shirtless, and I catch a glimpse of bare, muscled chest, which excites me to no end. “Thank you for the present Keith, I love it!” He smiles proudly, but my smile becomes frown as I say, “Only now I feel like shit, I didn’t get you anything.”

  He waves me off, “That’s not important. I didn’t expect you to. If you want to make it up to me how about a do-over dinner date, I didn’t exactly get to try your delicious homemade Indian cuisine that day,” he winks. “What do you say? You know, once you're not grounded anymore and I can meet your dad officially?”

  “Deal,” I smile back at him. “But, how did you sneak that present into my room?”

  He smiles, “I did the ninja climb up to your room. My original plan was to leave it at your window, but I was afraid you wouldn’t notice it. And then I saw it was unlocked, so I left it inside.”

  “You were in my room while I was asleep?” I say in disbelief. However, the thought of Keith in my room thrills me, even if I wasn’t awake to see him. “You should have woken me up!” I whine.

  That makes him laugh, I see him get off his bed and walk to his dresser. “You were so peaceful; I didn’t want to interrupt your slumber.”

  “Well the next time you decide to sneak into my room, you better wake me,” I announce.

  “What exactly makes you think there will be a next time,” he arches his eyebrows. I watch as he removes a shirt from his dresser and pulls it over his head.

  For a brief few seconds, I get to see his entire body spread out and up before me. His stomach arches back as he lifts his arms, outlining every s
ingle muscle in his stomach. How I’d love to trail my fingers down his abs again. I chew on my lip as I watched him. He turned back to the camera and smiled, “Like what you see?”

  I give him one of my pouty looks, and that brings once again another smile onto his face. “Damn I wish I was there with you.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  We don’t talk for long since he’s got to go celebrate with his family and me with mine. Still, we promise each other to at least text during the day. I place my new book, on my shelf and then head to down to see if my parents are up yet.

  I’ve never felt like this in my life, it’s been a long time since my dad has made me cry like this. The first time being one day in the sixth grade when I was frustrated over math, and he called me stupid for taking so long to figure a problem out.

  It wasn’t that he said anything mean exactly, but today, while I was driving with him to practice for my license, I accidentally hit the brakes too quickly, and he lurched forward. He panicked and started screaming at me that I was going to get us killed. I began to cry, and that made him angrier. My dad doesn’t know how to treat people. The simplest of things gets him mad. He likes things to work when he wants them to work, and he wishes for people to do what he says when he says to do them. He’s a bit strict, I guess, but I know he loves me. But still. He didn’t need to yell so much.

  On top of that he already hates that I want to become a writer. He doesn’t get my love for books. There are teenagers out there that only want to party and do drugs, I’m not doing any of that, so I don’t get why gives me such a hard time. I just wish he were a kinder father, a more open and understanding one. That’s all I ask.

  After we’d gotten back home, dad had bolted out of the car, slamming the door as I burst into tears again. I got out of the car and ran.

  By the time I stopped running, I hadn’t realised how far I’d run or where too. So I grab my phone and dial Keith’s number. I open up the location map and tell him where I’m out, and he says, “I know where you’re at, stay right there it’ll only be a few minutes,” I nod and agree to wait. Minutes later I see his red Volkswagen pull up. I step in without saying a word. Keith turns to look at me, but I wave him off, indicating to drive.

  “What happened?” he finally asks.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll tell you once we get to your place.” He turns to look at me as if I’ve said something out of place. I can’t go home right now; I’m too upset, and I know my dad will be in a bad mood for the rest of the evening. Over nothing.

  “I’m not going home, Keith. That’s where my problem’s at,” with that said he doesn’t press me further.

  I look in the mirror as we pull in to his driveway and my face looks like a disaster. My cheeks are all puffy, my mouth feels dry, and I have this terrible ache in my chest. Keith opens the passenger door for me, and just when I thought there were no tears left in me. I bury my face in Keith’s chest and income the waterworks. “Vee,” Keith kisses the top of my head, “I hate seeing you like this, please tell me what happened?” I nod into his chest, and he lifts my head up to meet his eyes. “Let’s go inside, okay?” I nod again, unwilling to talk.

  Once inside, I look around to see if I spot his mom or grandmother. As if knowing my question, Keith answers, “They’re not here. Mom took Gram shopping.”

  I head upstairs and into his room and plop down onto his bed, face planted on the mattress. “Vee?” I hear the concern in Keith’s voice. I can feel the bed sink down, creaking softly, as he sits down next to me and rubs circles on my back. “Are you ready to talk, or should I give you a minute?”

  “I’m ready,” I raise my head up and turn around, my back now to the mattress. I look up at the ceiling and start talking. I tell him about learning to drive and my dads’ horrible attitude about it. And then I continue to tell him about how easily my dad gets angry. About how he yells and threatens. It’s nothing like what Keith has been through, but my dad still terrifies me, or rather I’m not terrified of him but that I don’t want to disappoint him. By the time I’m done, I’ve stopped crying, and my face is dry. I’m now resting on Keith’s chest; we’ve been silent for a while. Keith’s playing with my hair, twirling it between his fingers as I nuzzle his neck.

  Downstairs I hear the door banging and then laughter. Keith shifts his arm out from beneath my neck, “Guess they’re back,” he kisses my hair. “Come on,” he takes my hand pulling me up, “If there’s anyone who could cheer you up, it’s my grandma. I’m happy that you’ll get the opportunity to meet her after all.” He smiles, and I hold on to his hand as we head downstairs.

  “Grandma,” Keith announces, walking into the kitchen. He mom smiles, “Oh Keith, there you are we—” she stops when I come around the corner, surprised, “Oh! We have an extra guest tonight,” she smiles easily. And reaches over to tap the shoulder of the older woman with her back turned to us. Keith steps forwards, “Gram. This is Vidya, my girlfriend.” he adds, and I can’t help but smile at how he introduces me to his grandmother. She turns around, and her face breaks into an easy smile. I’m surprised, his grandmother looks very young, much like his mother does. She seems like a very elegant woman with her hair coifed into an old-fashioned bob with waves in it, finger-curls I think is what they used to be called. Her dress is high-collared, and she wears a string of pearls around her neck to match her pearl earrings. On her dainty feet, she has white pumps, and I can tell she is wearing hose. Her blond hair looks silver with age, and she has the same cerulean blue eyes as her daughter and grandson.

  “Oh, I’m so happy to finally meet you!” she walks up to me, extending both arms. We embrace, and I can’t help but feel liberated by not being at home right now, “It’s nice to meet you too.” I say and smile.

  “My goodness you’re gorgeous,” she exclaims, releasing me and glances over at Keith with a sly smile on her lips, “Keith dear, I know you said she was beautiful, but I don’t think that word is enough. You didn’t say you were dating a super-model,” Keith hides his embarrassment by turning towards his mother, who walks up to me to give me a hug.

  “It’s so nice to see you again Vidya,” she says. Leaning in, she hugs me tightly, wrapping her slender arms around my shoulders.

  “It’s nice to see you too, Emma.”

  She whispers in my ear, “You’ve made my boy the happiest man alive.” her words surprise me, and I look away, trying to hide my embarrassment. My face is red; I just know it.

  His grandmother takes me by the hand, “Come, dearest, we must get acquainted. Tell me all about yourself,” she says and leads me into the living room.

  It’s getting late, and at some point, I have to go home. Now I’m just really freaked out. I know my dad is going to kill me, especially if he sees me arrive with Keith. I’m debating rather not going home until tomorrow morning while mom’s at work and dad will be on a business trip for an entire week at Chicago. I’ll be somewhat safe for a week.

  I ask Emma for permission to use the bathroom, and I go upstairs. Staying way longer than I needed to, I hear a knock at the door. “Vee, are you alright in there?”

  “You can come in,” I say from the other side. Keith enters and finds me sitting on the floor. My back against the porcelain tub.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting down in front of me.

  “Keith, I don’t want to go home. Can I stay here the night?” This is the most absurd question I could possibly ask him. It’s a terrible idea, I know it is. In fact, if my dad knew where Keith lived, he’d probably be storming the place right now with cops in tow.

  “Vee of course, but won’t your parents be furious if you don’t get home.” He says, I sigh. I can’t do this. What was I even thinking? My parents must be worried, sick. I haven’t checked my phone in hours. I bet they’ve called me a thousand times by now. I nod.

  “You’re right—”

  “I’m not saying I don’t want you to stay. You know you are always welcomed
here. I just don’t want to get you in trouble with your parents. Your dad already hates me, and I don’t want another reason for him to hate me even more. Plus, he was mad at you before, you should try to talk things out.” How is it that this boy always has the right things to say in these kinds of situations?

  “My dad doesn’t hate you,” I finally say. “He doesn’t even know you, so that’s very unlikely. He’s just overprotective of me,”

  Minutes later I’m saying my goodbyes to Emma and Keith’s grandmother, Jude. Keith was kind enough to drive me home. The snow is heavy on the ground so we go slow and careful and a five-minute drive turns into fifteen. When we arrive in front of my house, I thank Keith with a quick kiss. I pull my keys out of my pocket and open the front door. I breathe in and then out, readying myself for the storm I know I’m about to face.

  My parents are on the sofa, they have the news playing silently in the background when they turn to face me. “Vidya,” they both say with a tone of authority.

  “Yes, hello,” I squeak. I walk to face them.

  “Take a seat,” my dad says flatly. “It’s time we all have a good old family talk.” If there’s one thing I hate most in this world, it’s when my dad says family talk.

  There’s nothing better than a good old family talk that leaves you in even more tears than before. The only thing I want to do right now is to crawl into bed and forget today ever happened. Well, except meeting Gram Jude, that was amazing.

  My mom told dad about Keith and me. That helped him fill up the pieces of why he had been over here and then where I had gone to today. I told Keith that my dad didn’t hate him. But he sure as hell did right now.