LUCKY STRIKE - III

Seven days quickly passed, with how Tristen's dad had planned all of the activities they tried. Kayaking, hiking, grilling, camping, cycling, swimming— and she might be overreacting but it did feel like they tried every summer activity to be listed within a week.

“Sorry, Bel. I can't even make sure if I can last for five minutes without closing my eyes,” Tristen groggily searches for her friend's face on the screen. Bella was smiling, and her boyfriend waves his hand, so does the former. “Okay. Then you should rest first.” She can only nod. “And tell your dad you have a headache or something tomorrow so he won't have to ask you to go out and do things even a strong man would feel tired of.”

So she dozes off to sleep even when it's just 8 and had just finished dinner.

Her eyes flew open and her hand automatically reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on. There's a person at the other side of the door and she sees a pair of classic canvas sneakers. Just to confirm that it is who she thinks it was, Tristen drags herself towards the door and opens it.

“What the— Are you nuts?” she exclaims in a hushed tone and receives just a shrug from the guy. “What are you doing here?” Tristen opens the door a bit to let herself out and closes it immediately to drag the guy towards the hallway. “Just wanted to ask you for a night stroll or just sit somewhere. Were you asleep already?”

Wasn't it obvious? Tristen wanted to ask but she realized it wasn't really a question to answer.

“Compared to your bonny strength, I am still a woman with limits,” a roll of an eye ends her sentence even when he won't see what she did. “Ah, I see. So you don't wanna join?” He asks and takes a hilt, and Tristen hears the movement, so she does her stop too. They only looked at each other. “Don't wait for me to say otherwise but I'll meet you in 10 minutes.”

Only a nod and Tristen goes back to her bedroom. The time she told him was kept and she spotted him mounting the power scooter already. His thighs were overflowing the small vehicle and they were accentuated just right by the pair of shorts he was wearing.

“By the way, I don't know what adjective you've used to describe my strength. What does that even mean?” He initiates the conversation this time and that made Tristen laugh in her mind. “I don't know, Californian. Now, drive!” she slaps his right thigh and he does what she's asked. “Was that even American slang?”

She keeps herself mummed.

“Where are we heading to?” She can't help but ask as she looks around. The posts weren't much help because they were meters away from each other. “Just a place,” he answers shortly and tries to speed up faster. Now that Tristen has noticed, the wind makes her hair a bit more messier. “Where did you put your mom's helmet?”

“Why, Angelface? You're used to wearing it?” His question makes her shut up. One of the long list of the things she does because her dad or her parents told her to do so. “Dude, I was kidding,” he sends her a side-eye. “Helmets are a must. But I wanted you to not wear it for the first time. I wasn't even running faster than 50 until the last minute.”

Silence. And then a curve to the left and he turns the engine off, lends a hand to help Tristen stand even with the short height of the vehicle. She accepts it anyway.

They ended up on a gazebo at what seemed a place for people to choose for a date. Just a place.

“Here,” Zeji passes the silver liquor bottle to her and she might've done it at least five times from the past but Tristen accepted it this time. “It's only Bourbon,” he watches her give the alcohol a taste. The bitterness was present but the burn was just right for tonight's vibe. “Wasn't bad, yeah?”

“It wasn't,” she answers and gives the bottle back to him. He drank some more, maybe three or four more gulps until he had the courage to look on her side. Tristen was also looking at him— or at least that's what he'd like to tell himself— angel face sitting idly on the wooden handrail. “I don't know if it's just me or the alcohol… could be the bad lighting too but you look beautiful from where I'm standing,” Zeji knows what he's saying. It's just that he wasn't so sure if Tristen was in the mood. “That was bad, yeah?”

She laughs, a perfect showcase of her teeth and some of the hair strands went array because of the impact from her head's movement. Tristen holds up her hand, as she slowly shakes her head with his ridiculous attempt of compliment but signals Zeji to come closer, until he's in between her legs.

“Sucks to be you. We hook up but you can't swoon me with your weak choice of words,” her hands cup either of his cheeks and thumbs them. “But I should commend you for the bourbon. Didn't feel too much in my throat,” Zeji smells her breath, or was it the mix of their breaths. Another smile creeps on her mouth before she closes the distance. Just one chaste kiss and it was obvious that he wanted more when he leaned as their lips parted. “And because you let me snuck at midnight.”

This time, her hands fell on his shoulders and it was Zeji's turn to hold the side of her face with his other hand on her waist. She pulls him closer when he kneads her waist and her mouth opens wider as he repeats the action.

Zeji's hand inches lower and he opens his eyes slightly, taking her reaction well that she doesn't mind, so he lets his hand stay there and closes his eyes again. He feels her hands pull him closer, so Zeji kisses her deeper, and swallows the moans going out of Tristen's mouth.

When she pulls herself, a smile on her lips appears and Tristen squeezes one of his shoulders. “I've never snuck at midnight,” she starts and he only nods go let her continue. “This wasn't bad for my first time. How did you even know this place?” he shrugs at the question. “Ah, you've brought someone here before.”

He only kisses her, a quick one and Angelface taps his cheek, once, twice, just many times.

“It doesn't matter, 'Ji. Just don't let me drink from where the others had drank in,” she smiles before kissing him again. Seconds later, Tristen stops again, he knows she'll say something more. “And buy another toothbrush if you plan to makeout with me,” Zeji only nods and kneads the skin of her thigh. When her forehead creased, he had to utter a 'yes'. “But tonight's an exception, because you did something that I like.”

They went on like that for some more minutes, pulling each other closer, breaths ragged and taking some breaks with their foreheads against each other.

“Did you always have the buzzcut or was it because of your first love?” he pulls away and gives her a coy smile. “Who said I had been?” Tristen has her questioning look, a bit confused too, and he continues to smile. “You don't have to verify or anything. I won't pry unless you share it. Maybe then, I can listen.”

He chortles at that and Tristen just watches him. They continued what they were doing. In between were her playful insults and his hilarious pick-up lines. She was more delighted than feeling guilty for sneaking out at midnight.

“Seriously, you're bad at romancing me. I'm disappointed it works for other girls,” she even shakes her head to emphasize her disbelief and dissatisfaction. “You just happened to have a smarter mouth, full of brains. Some feelings may have been forgotten because you were always intuitive,” Tristen shrugs but chuckles with his words, so Zeji continues. “But you're not selfish or heartless as you think you are with what you do with me. There's nothing wrong with giving in to your passiveness when little temptation comes. Like this …like me.”

“Mmh, yeah. That one's better,” a kiss on his cheek to show him gratitude and she also hugs him, an excuse to look at her field watch. “We should head back to your dad's mansion. C'mon,” taps to his shoulder comes next and Zeji doesn't let go of her waist yet, only holds her tighter as the wind whirls. “Take that back. My dad's long gone.”

Fits of giggles come out of her mouth with his whiny tone and he only squeezes her waist. Some more minutes and she still won't take back what she said. Some more and Zeji finally untangles her arms from his nape.

He drove them back to the mansion. Zeji steals a kiss when they reached the door, Tristen warns him not to do it once they get inside. Their journey upstairs had Tristen on her edge when Zeji decided to be annoying.

“Let me walk in peace,” she hisses at him and he only grins wider when the annoyed one slaps his arm snaking around her waist. “Why don't you just accept my affection silently?” He asks while he removes his arm and he lets Tristen fasten her pace. “I will walk first. Just don't follow me at once. Alright?” Zeji just looks at her for the first seconds but nods slowly. Tristen looks at him then sighs as she tiptoes to leave one last kiss on his lips. “Thanks.”

His hold lingers on her skin.

After she shuts the door, Tristen lets go of the breath she was holding as when she walked down the hallway on her way to the bedroom. 3:12, it shows on her watch. She cleans up quickly and goes under her sheets.

The next morning, Tristen fakes being unwell so she won't have to go with her dad to pick some fruits.

“Kenny, darling, call me when you need a hand. Alright?” He plants a kiss on her temple and combs her hair a couple of times. “I will, dad. Tell Uncle Jaime that I'll join next time.”

Her dad finally lets go, but did not miss to throw a gaze on the other man sipping his cup of whatever it was. Tristen tugs his hand and shakes her head to send him a signal that the couple was waiting for him.

Perfect girl even waves them goodbye. After the door's closed, buzzcut head appears to pin her against it.

“Your dad dislikes me too much,” his lips move against her jaw as he says that and Tristen only smacks her shoulders because that move sends shivers every time. “Do you know why?” He lands his forehead against her and proceeds to watch the angel face even her breath. “You climbed up my balcony. He heard you fell against the wooden floor, drunk. First impression lasts.”

She can still recall the disappointment in his face when he basically dragged the other guy back to his designated room in the lake house. That time, the couple went for a night out to enjoy themselves so they never knew what happened.

“What about you? What's yours with me?” he reaches for her hand to tangle them and smiles when she doesn't show any violent reaction. “Buzzcut. I'm used to guys in my school having their Ivy League haircut and I wanted to tell at least one of them that it's so ugly,” both of them chuckled at that. But of course, Tristen feels guilty the moment she finishes the sentence. “Nothing more?” he juts his lower lip when Tristen squints her eyes to think. “I like beautiful things and you're one of them.”

He scoops angelface's legs to carry her bridal style and turns around with a careless speed, at least for Tristen but her laughter falters when she notices the change of color in his usual pink lips.

“Wait. Hey, 'Ji. Let me down,” she taps his arm and he does, a little confused but not shocked. “Are you alright? Your lips turned pale,” her hand quickly flew to check his temperature but it turned out normal like hers. “I am. Must be the coffee,” he sat down when she pulled him and waited for her to come back with a glass of water. “Why would you drink coffee if that's not good for you? Were you trying to get yourself to the hospital?”

“Your dad brewed some beans for me,” her lips went agape and her shoulders fell, feeling sorry for her dad's another victim with his insistence. “He's throwing daggers with his eyes. Should I say no next time?” He chortles and holds her shoulders to keep her to sit straight. “Now I understand why you can't say no to him,” when he laughed, Tristen followed but her worry was still etched on her face.

“Angelface is worried about me. This feeds my ego,” he pulls to hug her side and she lets him. Zeji rocks them sideways. “Then just say next time that it affects your figure. He should understand that. You're a model,” that sends Zeji to laugh and Tristen only throws him a confused look. “You're not denying what I said?”

She looks up at him and shakes her head no.

“Truly an angel,” they stayed for some more minutes on the sofa until Bella called her. Zeji lets go quickly and tells her that they'll meet later after he rests for some time.

Tristen hasn't told her about Zeji, thinking that that kind of thing would be much safer if only the two of them knew. They talked for two hours, mainly it was Bella, since Tristen can only share the exhausting activities she did with the other three men.

“Kenny! Don't tell me you have your flat stomach again?” Tristen only stares at her on the screen. “Right,” the other rolls her eyes. “Tch, I swear to every Greek God, a man would be so lucky to have you,” Bella clicks her tongue and the receiver of the praise gives a shy smile. “Smart. Can cook so damn good. Knows first aid. A body to die for and beautiful inside out.”

They talked for some more minutes, as Tristen did not forget to tell her friend that who she is was also someone anyone would wish for. Not until she had to go to the restaurant with her family and her already adopted, accepted and blessed boyfriend. Tristen yawns, lets out a wacky face— something that could make anyone see would grimace— that if someone in their campus would witness, they would be shocked she can make such facial expressions.

Her android phone vibrates and it opens the moment her finger touches the assistive touch. It turns out that it's a notification from her main instagram account. The faculty tagged her in a post about the current project of volunteers which of course she's a part of.

Right. Because a week has passed already, they resumed some of the proposals being left from the former academic year.

It wasn't on purpose, but she clicks on her profile, and sees the number of people following her. It was almost three thousand and she doesn't care about it but a thought just passed her mind:

Would any of these people aside from Bella look at her the same once they knew Tristen had just planned to let her virginity be taken by a guy she's almost a stranger to?

Or if not the same, she wonders if some would not pay heed because Tristen wasn't any different from them. She was never the 'perfect' girl they'd described her for years. Tristen never wanted that title.

It felt heavy, like something is always stuck in her throat, wanting to be unleashed by spewing words when she dislikes something but they would push through it because Tristen can do anything—never disappoints, they said.

Forced smiles. Forced nods. Forced acceptance of decisions made by other people.

President. Compliant to the rules. Teacher's favorite.

“Have you heard of Noel's daughter? That kid's pregnant by a university student,” the man's voice was one of the things she's used to hearing every dinner on a Sunday. He wasn't talking to anyone in particular but her mom and herself alone could hear every word. “You know what the kid answered to him? They're in love,” he scoffs as his hands continue to slice the piece of beef on the plate. Tristen only swallows her food, not bothering to chew them unintentionally. “They're fooled by their hormones.”

“Honey, we were in college when you courted me,” her mom's soothing voice comes, Tristen sees that she holds his hand. “Sure, I did. And there's nothing wrong with romantic feelings at a young age. I was talking about them being hormonal teenagers—” his voice was cut out when Tristen stood up hastily. He looked at her with strict eyes but she didn't waver. “Please excuse me. I wasn't really feeling well. Good night mom, dad.”

Even with irritation crawling under her tongue, no words came out of her mouth. She was able to pull a distressed face before giving them both goodnight kisses. Bad mouthing people during a meal wasn't something her dad should consider as family time.

She was fifteen back then, and by years, Tristen hoped her dad would change because he has a child growing old too. Sooner, there could be some changes and the more he lets her hear his over-opinionated insights whenever someone they know would have issues, the fire inside her gets more fueled.

That night was when she had finally thought that her innocence should not be measured with virginity. Or her being 'pure' should not be the criteria for other girls to be compared with her.

Without her dad knowing, Tristen accepts presents from some guys in senior high school, he only assumes that her teachers still give her presents by volunteering or accepting extra responsibilities.

By then, she didn't really care who gets near her, or who wants to know her favorites so they can buy her any present they can afford. That's also the time she had met Bella and how she had called her 'Kenny'—an exception because she wasn't blood related.

Until a guy which Tristen grew fond of because he was just simple, does not have an impressive background for her dad's standard but for her, the boy has everything.

He came over to her house, thinking it was a 'gentleman' thing to do and it wasn't of Tristen's knowledge. It just so happened that her dad was the one who answered the door. It just so happened too that he was not expecting someone at this age to have balls.

“You wanted to court my daughter?” he hears his voice echo in their spacious living room and Tristen runs down but halts when he meets her dad's gaze. “What's your surname, hijo?” No. I hope he doesn't know his family. “Abaracia, sir,” the teenager even holds out his hand to shake the older man's and he accepts it while looking at her.

He almost turns his head towards her direction but Tristen's dad mumbles something, and she wishes she could do anything, or maybe try to reach the sofa so she can do something for her friend, or however she can call it.

She was stuck on her post and just watched the man escort the young boy outside with occasional squeezes on his shoulder. He did know about his family's reputation.

When Monday comes, Tristen tries to reach out to him. 

“Are you okay? Did he do something? Said something?” He smiles at her, a sad one. It sends Tristen shivers all over her body. The boy, even with a sad smile, still makes her system go wild. “I will be,” Tristen tried to hold his hands but he held her wrists instead. She takes note of the gentleness but his eyes send her another emotion. “I like you. You knew, right?” Frantic nods come and his bitter smile comes again, along with the gentle caress of his thumbs on her skin. “I really do. But your dad was right. I am not worthy compared to who you are… to what you are," his voice shakes and eyes restless as he tries to explain himself better. “I like you, I knew it.”

“What were you trying to say?” her eyes filled with sadness and Tristen wishes she could just cry but instead, the bile on her throat only gets heavier, only gets bigger. She had been holding so many things for quite some time, so why can't just those fucking tears roll down her cheeks. “What did my dad tell you? Why do you look sad? You're not leaving this school, right? I can talk him out, I promise.”

“Please don't do that. And please don't ever get mad at your dad. This was my decision,” he looks down and Tristen can only mirror what he did. Don't ever get mad. “My scholarship. The financial aid from the sponsors was the only source my family has right now,” she shakes her head in disbelief and he finally lets go of her wrist. Tristen doesn't know what she should do first, or what to say first. They were just teenagers. “I love you, okay? And I don't have any other choice right now—” Could she ever be ready to hear this? Wasn't it too early to end what they were just  starting? Wave of thoughts flashed her eyes and she shook them off. Tristen cuts him with a breath hitching hug. His body tenses against her, and she nuzzles herself deeper against the other's shoulder. That time, he relaxed and caressed her hair.  “Sorry. I'm really sorry.”

He leaves gentle touches on her back and she only tightens her hold against him. “I'm not mad. You shouldn't be sorry because you weren't at fault. Neither of us wanted this,” the boy pulled himself off her hold, offering his bright, big and most genuine smile, even when his eyes were getting glassier with every passing second. “And I should say thank you, for all the things you did for me. Say sorry for not being man enough because that decision was the only thing that's left to me.”

Tristen can only nod, because she was meant to understand things. She's smart and never disappoints.

When she lets go of the poor boy, he cups the side of her face and it was so selfish of her to wish other things from him so she settles to let her eyes open as he lets his lips capture Tristen's for the last time. It hurts, but no tears ran out of her eyes.

Thick black eyebrows. Brown doe eyes. Button nose. Wide bright toothy smile. A face anyone would say belongs to a genuine soul. Kindest, purest heart. Will she ever forget this boy? Would she ever want to forget? “I will never forget you, my angel.”

Another buzz on her phone cuts the sudden flashback of memories. It was the professor for Summer Camp they'll be hosting for the jumior high school students which are bound to happen by next week.

A smile creeps on her mouth, because she will have to be away from her dad for some days and that means she can wear something she likes, without catching any questioning glance from her dad.

She texts Bella about it, and since her week-long vacation with her family was done by that time as well, maybe they can meet up. Well, even if that'd mean Tristen will have to third-wheel, she wouldn't really mind.

Like what she planned last night, Tristen takes a nap and sets an alarm to cook anything for lunch. However, she was woken up by gentle but heavy knocks against the door. With a slightly drowsy mind, she gets up to answer it.

“Let's eat outside,” the man states, like a command she has to follow. “Don't wanna. Don't disturb my nap. Besides, I plan to stay indoors today,” she almost closes the door to put an end to their conversation and so she can go back to her nap but his voice gets in her head. “Then cook for me. I just woke up and I need to eat.”

If there's anything Tristen does not like hearing from people was their demanding tone. She's willing to do things, so long as people know they are the one still asking for help or favor.

“Find anything in the kitchen. This ends this conversation here,” she closes the door hastily and with a big frown on her face, lies down back under her sheets. Seconds later, the alarm she set had rang. ”Tch,” now she feels guilty for closing a door on someone's face. It doesn't have to be Zeji.

Well of course, after washing her face and wearing a simple tank top and sweatpants, she goes downstairs to cook a simple beef stir fry. And because she feels guilty, Tristen makes strawberry juice  for him.

Once she's almost done, Tristen fishes for her phone to send him a text message.

To: Z.

There's food on the table.

She goes back to her bedroom and spends her time watching some of Zeji's friends' IG stories from California that she met last winter. They were pretty nice to her, since people there were really known for being 'friendly'.

One of them even was a childhood friend of Zeji, and he may be good at playing oblivious, but Tristen sees how his best friend looks at him. The girl likes him, romantically likes her best friend. Tristen didn't raise her eyebrow on that, even when she's not a fan of the 'best friends to lovers' trope. Maybe the best friend knows who the real Zeji is.

Knocks were heard on the door again, and this time, Tristen shrugs the irritation she had minutes ago when she opens the door.

“Let's eat downstairs,” he holds her right wrist and Tristen quickly lets go of the doorknob. Zeji sends her a smile and closes the door behind her. “Do you know any good restaurants here? Or a bar?” Tristen nods, of course she knows, because the girl had been denied to go there by her dad a couple of times in the past. “Let's go there tonight.”

Tristen shakes her head and stabs the meat with her fork to meet his eyes again. Zeji only blinks at her and tilts his head before nodding his head in understanding.

“Right,” he says then sighs. “It's pretty boring here, you know. When will we go to your house, then? That one's better compared to this place. Too secluded.” He takes a sip of strawberry juice and hums in amusement, his eyes giving a comical bulging effect. “This one's hella nice. What brand?” Tristen bites back a smile. Such a sincere compliment. Oooh, she likes this kind of feeling. Feeds her ego. “My brand. I made it.”

Zeji laughs at that and takes another sip to feed her ego more, with another hum he lets out of his mouth. “What's a thing a perfect girl like you can't do?” his teasing and flirting voice comes alive again. Tristen must wonder if he does that for a living. “Plenty. Like partying, drinking without chauffeur, picking a decent guy and many more. Don't make me do a list, 'Ji,” she shakes her head and shares fits of giggles with the guy. “We can do some of them together. Next time you know, you'd be 'perfect' the way you want to see yourself.”

Eating lunch alone was fine with Tristen, but sharing it with the guy was also more than fine. He asks variety of questions, tells dumb stories which make her feel envious of another person's life. But by the end, she knows the life she has was one of the things other people might want to have. She can only be thankful.

“Dude, lunch was dank,” the man stands up and walks on her side to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Kenny.” He leaves another on her jaw and laughs after he does, then dashes upstairs, not knowing she wouldn't mind him calling her that nickname now so he doesn't have to run.

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