Let Me Love You: A Novel

by Praks, Wanitta

  “Seriously, bro, like what you wanna do?” Kai asks.

  I only give him a nifty smile.

  “I got it. Up to a challenge, bro?” He responds.

  I click my tongue. “You bet.”

  “Then let’s play Truth or Dare,” he finally says.

  I burst out laughing. “You know everything about me, Kai, so let it be a dare.”

  “Okay, bro. In the next thirty… no, ten seconds, I dare you to pick a girl from this crowd and kiss her.”

  “What?” I laugh out again but this time in disbelief. What is in that foul head of his? Kissing and sex? “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Not kidding.” He shakes his head.

  His lips almost burst from the forced grin he’s trying to suppress. I want to bong him on the head, but I’m afraid he’ll know I’m nervous.

  I can do anything, I tell you. Give me any challenge and I’ll swing through it with ease. Play guitar, sing on stage with hundreds of fan girls hurling flowers at me, but for the life of me, a challenge such as this, randomly picking a girl and giving her a kiss… now that has me shaking in my boots.

  I silently force a nervous swallow and summon my courage. “Bring it on, man.”

  We walk back into the crowd, putting our masks into place. I shift my eyes, scanning for my potential target as we approach the throng of adrenaline-filled teenagers again.

  “Ready, bro?” I hear him asking me.

  Stupid Kai. Of course I’m not ready. Not only do I have to prepare myself physically, but I also have to sort out my mental state too. I don’t want to kiss a girl with garlic breath.

  Wait, how the hell am I supposed to know if the girl’s just eaten garlic? Shit, I didn’t think this through at all, did I? Is it too late to back out now?

  “One of these girls is about to be the lucky one who gets to kiss our very own lead singer of Apollo,” Kai announces next to me. I clearly want to add, Plus claim the prize of being the first girl ever to kiss me, but I don’t. Otherwise, I’ll be the laughing stock of the whole school. Me, the notable handsome guy in all of Woodville High, has never been kissed? I’m sure I’ll be the next biggest gossip in the history of mankind.

  “Ten!” Kai shouts out, surprising me.

  Shit! The countdown already?

  “Nine!”

  Shit! I panic. I’m not ready. My heart is racing. I need to look for a girl and fast.

  Look for a girl, Zac, any girl at all. No, not just any girl. Look for your ideal girl, a girl you would enjoy kissing.

  “Eight!”

  Long hair or short hair? Definitely long hair. Wouldn’t want to pucker up to a girl that has the same hairstyle as me.

  “Seven.”

  Okay, tick that. Now color. Blond? Jesus, no, too bitchy. Not that every single girl with blond hair would be bitchy, but the latest one who tried to ask me out accused me of being gay, since I preferred to hang out with Kai instead of spending a whole weekend at her house.

  “Six.”

  Red? Too fiery. Mrs. Dale, my math teacher, has red hair, and she got all mental the last time I handed in my assignment late. That’s why I ended up with a D-minus for algebra.

  “Five.”

  Black hair, then? Yes, that should be fine. Kai has black hair and he’s nice. Yes, an Asian girl would be nice.

  “Four.”

  Now where’s a black-haired Asian girl when you need one?

  “Three.”

  Wait! My eyes zoom in on a brunette. And when she turns to face me, I breathe a sigh of relief. She looks to be about the same age as me. Though not beautiful, she’s not entirely ugly either, just passable, one people don’t give a second glance, one who fits right in the middle of the normal distribution graph. But that’s good enough for me.

  “Two.”

  I check her out a bit more. She seems lost, like she’s uncomfortable in her surrounding. Her eyes shift around the arena, like she’s searching for someone.

  “One!” Kai slaps me on the shoulder. “Time’s up, bro. Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “That one.” I point to her.

  “Average, bro,” he comments.

  I don’t need his opinion. She’s fine by my standard. Plus, what’s he expecting, asking me to pick from this pool of crazy teens? Out sprouts Selena Gomez?

  “Is she your ideal?” he questions.

  “Come on, Kai, you gave me ten seconds.”

  “Right!” he drawls out, then turns to me. “Ready?”

  “Ready since yesterday.” I grin. “Just watch.”

  Kai only nods and folds his arms, ready for me to carry out my dare.

  I make my way into the stampede of teens stomping the ground, all the while watching and assessing her. There are many attempts where she tries to catapult herself out of the human cage, but being a small thing with an estimated height of about Kai’s 1.65 meters, no matter what she does, she only falls back into the pack.

  I shake my head. For sure I know my task of kissing her won’t be an easy one. I need to get her out of this crowd. I come up with a plan.

  “Found you.” I smile when I manage to break through the barricade of human bodies. I grab her hand and drag her away from the throng of people. I feel like I’m a knight in shining amour, saving a damsel in distress like this.

  Once free of people, I brace her against the wall, near an empty part of the stadium. Putting my arm out to trap her, I smile again and say, “Hey, Romeo finally meets Juliet.”

  How the hell did I come up with that lame line?

  The girl looks up at me as if mystified to see a boy in a Phantom mask saving her from the jungle of people. I suppose she wants to thank me. But before she can say a word, I seal my lips to hers and…

  Jesus Christ, it’s like a million stars shining bright in my eyeballs, blinding me for a full second before I can grasp the situation again. She tastes like wine, if that is what wine tastes like. The flavor is like a mixture of grapes and honey, leaving a subtle trace of sweetness on those soft lips. So nice, a crispy sweet texture on my palate. Jesus, I’m addicted, and the—

  “Ow,” I yell, recoiling from her. This girl, she… she just bit me.

  Chapter 2

  IVY

  The Stolen Kiss

  Suffocation swamps me. I want to breathe proper air, but I can’t. Not when I’m stuck in this human barricade in the middle of a concert filled with adrenaline-pumped teenagers colliding against me on all sides.

  There are so many people, bare arms flailing and sweat flying. I feel self-conscious, pulling at my long sleeves despite the heat wave and perspiration sticking to my skin, making me even more nauseated.

  Where has Mandy gone?

  I search around for my friend. She wanted to see Zac Elliot, the lead singer of Apollo—or her “future boyfriend,” as she never failed to remind me—up close since he’d finished singing his song, so she told me to stay put while she moved near the stage. It was only supposed to be for a second, but now she’s been missing for more than half an hour.

  Why did I let her drag me to a place like this? This isn’t my scene. I should have stayed home and continued to unpack our luggage. My family only just arrived from Auckland a couple days back. But Mandy insisted I come, and I can’t say no to her. There’s no one to blame but myself.

  I try my luck again and push forward, but once again, I’m trampled on. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand appears and holds on to mine, dragging me away from the crowd. It feels like there’s no longer a wall of resistance, that broad back breaking the barricade for me.

  This guy in an opera mask, which I glimpse from his profile, leads me to an isolated spot at the back of the stadium.

  I want to thank him for allowing me to breathe fresh air again. I look up, but the image that greets me is of his partially obscured face getting closer and closer to mine.

  And then his lips move, “Hey. Romeo finally meets Juliet.”

  What does he mean by this? Who’s Romeo? Who’s
Juliet? I’m confused.

  I want to ask, but his face, it’s moving too close to mine. I don’t like this. I should—

  Too late. At that moment, I lose all coherent thought, feeling only his lips caressing mine. It is so beautiful, so nice and warm, like an autumn breeze. I feel myself sinking into the ground and my back pressing into the wall. I lose all strength in my limbs and cling to him for support. Out in the distance, the faint echo of another band playing on stage reaches my ears, but I don’t register any of this. All I know is I’m in heaven.

  Who is this guy in the mask? And why is he kissing me? Wait, kiss… He’s kissing me? And then it clicks. I’m being kissed by a total stranger.

  I open my eyes and see him staring at me.

  Emerald-green irises.

  I feel a sudden coldness attack me. Those eyes, those emerald irises of his, they’re similar to the man who killed my parents and brother. For a moment, I imagine myself being kissed by that killer, and I panic. In my sudden distress, I accidently bite him on the lip.

  He gives a yelp and recoils like he’s been stung by a bee.

  I stand back up, my body supported by the brick wall, nervously looking up at him, expecting him to attack me or yell at me. Instead, he just stands there licking his bleeding lip.

  He smiles at me. “Mmmm, salty but sweet.” Bracing his arm next to my head and leaning his face forward until his lips are next to my ear, he whispers, “Romeo kissed Juliet, and Juliet strikes back, marking her territory. I hope to see you again, my Juliet.” He takes my hand, places a kiss on the back, gives me another dashing grin, and disappears back into the crowd.

  I’m shaken. No guy has ever kissed me before. And I ruined it by biting him on the lip. Worse yet, I didn’t even give him permission.

  So does that mean he stole my first kiss? But if I enjoyed it so much, would that be stealing? Does he have a girlfriend?

  I trace my lips to stop myself from thinking absurd thoughts. I focus on the feel of my lips and imagine the soft contour of his pressing against mine.

  I want to go home. I really want to go home right now and look at my lips to see if they’re swollen. But there are too many people. And I can’t find Mandy.

  I wedge between sweaty bodies to try and find an exit point on the other side.

  “Ivy!” Mandy calls, appearing out of nowhere, her eyes all big and wide and her face scolding. They’re only magnified more behind her glasses, like a goldfish underwater. “I saw you… You and hottie in the mask.” She speaks like she’s a faltering machine that requires fixing. “O-M-G.” She puffs out, then takes out her asthma inhaler and squeezes two puffs into her mouth. Once she’s calmed down, she screams into my ears at the top of her lungs. “Who was that gorgeous guy?”

  “I don’t know,” I shout back. “And please stop screaming.”

  “He’s super gorgeous… from behind anyway. Did you get his name?”

  “No.”

  “What was he doing talking to you?”

  “He didn’t talk to me.”

  “Then what was he doing?”

  “He was ki—” I almost tell her but stop myself before I let out the embarrassing truth.

  “He was asking me where the toilet was.” I lie.

  “Toilet?” Mandy scrunches her face in confusion. “What’s a hot guy doing asking you about the toilet? Isn’t that a tad embarrassing?”

  “He’s clearly not embarrassed.” I lie again, avoiding eye contact.

  “Whatever. Let’s go back inside.”

  Mandy takes my hand and is about to lead me back in when I stop her.

  “Let’s not.”

  “Come on. Zac’s going to make another appearance tonight.”

  “Then you go. I’m going home.”

  “How are you supposed to get home?” she asks like she’s my mother.

  “Bus,” I tell her.

  “Please. The bus doesn’t run at night. Plus, I drove you here, remember? So just stay for a bit longer, okay?” she pleads and slumps her head to rest on my shoulder. “It’s not like we get to have fun that often. Plus, Monday’s school. Let’s enjoy ourselves now. Okay?”

  “Please stop it.” I massage my head. “I’m getting a headache. Please, let’s just go home.”

  “But Zac hasn’t made his good-bye appearance yet,” she whines again.

  “You already saw him when he was onstage half an hour ago. Plus, you’ve taken heaps of photos of him already.”

  “Yes, I did, but he was too far away. When I got near the stage, he’d already disappeared back inside. So I want to see him fully this time and take heaps of good shots. So please, just half an hour more. I’ve missed you. We haven’t hung out since… you know… Please?”

  I really want to say no, but she’s right. Since the accident, I never had a chance to ring her. There have been so many adjustments in my life that calling Mandy was the least of my concerns.

  Mandy’s my childhood friend. We went to primary school together, but by the end of primary school, she moved to Dunedin in the South Island of New Zealand. I stayed in Auckland, the North Island. It was only a few months ago that my grandma, sister-in-law, little six-year-old niece, and I all moved to this city to start a new life.

  “Urgh. Fine, just half an hour. Then we go home.” I finally give in.

  “Promise.” She hugs me and bounces back into the crowd, dragging me along with her. “Once I get to kiss Zac Elliot, I’ll deliver you straight to your doorstep.”

  Forty minutes later, with me continuously thinking about the kiss from that mysterious Phantom mask guy, I’m finally able to return home.

  “You should have seen him, Ivy. Why did you need to disappear to the toilet when he appeared onstage? He is so super gorgeous! Ahh, I want to be his girlfriend.”

  I close my eyes while Mandy chitchats away in the car on the drive home, narrating how she missed the chance to kiss him because she was too far from stage. Otherwise, she would have jumped onstage and kissed him senseless.

  Talking about kissing, my thoughts return like a vengeance to the mysterious Phantom guy. I can still taste that sweetness on my lips.

  I wave good-bye to Mandy from my front porch. Immediately, I dash inside to the bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and look at my lips in the bathroom mirror.

  They look plump and slightly swollen. I’m glad the festival happened at night because it prevented Mandy from seeing my lips clearly. Otherwise, she wouldn’t stop bugging me with her endless questioning.

  I start tracing my lips again with my fingers, outlining where he kissed me. My upper lip. My lower lip. It feels so nice.

  I smile at myself in the mirror like an idiot, wondering if I’ll ever get to see the mysterious guy who stole my first kiss. From the corner of my eye, I see Moon, my niece, walking in.

  “Vivi,” she calls when she sees me touching my lips. “Did you eat something bad? Why are you rubbing your lips?”

  “I’m…”

  “I know! I know! You’ve been kissed.”

  “Moon!” I clamp her mouth shut. How does a six-year-old know about kissing?

  “Vivi.” She unclamps my hand from her mouth and prods some more.

  My headache is coming back. School is starting on Monday, so I don’t want to be bothered by this right now. There’s so much work to do.

  “I haven’t been kissed. My lips, they just… I collided with something,” I tell her.

  I don’t consider this lying since I’m just bending the truth slightly.

  She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me, though.

  “Seriously. It’s like a train crashing into another train. A train wreck. Just something like that.” I try to convince her.

  “What’s something?” she asks. Suddenly, her face lights up. That girl, she’s got something up her sleeve. “Oh, I know. A boy’s lips?”

  “Moon!” I shout again, picking her up and taking her to her bedroom. “I told you it was a train crash between that somethin
g and my lips.”

  “It’s okay if you’re too shy to talk about stuff like that. Tommy told me all about kissing and stuff.”

  “And who’s Tommy?” I ask. I can’t help being curious. How can a six-year-old know all about this stuff? I don’t remember my teachers teaching me this stuff when I was in primary school.

  “He’s my boyfriend,” Moon replies sweetly.

  “Moon!” A little alarm bell starts ringing in my head. “I forbid you to have a boyfriend at your age.”

  “But we play together. He’s my friend. So just because he’s a boy, he can’t be my friend?” She complains.

  Well…

  I scratch my head. Since she puts it that way…

  “It’s fine to be friends with a boy,” I tell her, “but no talking about kissing or anything from now on. Not until you’re sixteen. Got it?”

  “Mmmm.” She nods and gives me little kisses on my cheeks.

  My little niece, she sure knows how to turn sweet when she wants to. I’m completely at her mercy.

  We end up lying in bed. I read her favorite bedtime story, Cinderella. Eventually, she falls asleep. I’m tired too. I think I should head to bed as well.

  I tug Moon in first, making sure she’s comfortable before I head to my room. I kiss her good night and leave. Except a hand prevents me from leaving. I turn and see Moon gripping my fingers.

  “You want to know Gigi’s behavior tonight?” She holds on to me tight. Gigi is Moon’s way of saying great-grandma.

  I sit back down and nod at her.

  “Gigi didn’t cry. She kissed grandma, grandpa, and daddy’s photos good night, sent a good prayer to them, and went straight to bed.”

  I smile, glad my grandma is slowly recovering from that tragic accident five years ago.

  “But she did mention something about some man before going to bed,” Moon finishes.

  “Oh.” I gasp. Maybe Gigi hasn’t fully recovered.

  Moon gives me her furrowed brow, which means she doesn’t understand what I’m gasping about.

  I give her a smile, despite it being a dry one. I think it’ll suffice for now. “It’s nothing. Just forget about it.”

  When the accident happened, I was only twelve years old. I was in the backseat with my big brother, while Mum and Dad were in the front. We were driving home. And that was when it happened. A car came out of nowhere and crashed into us. I survived. My parents and brother did not.