Alex

Two-person bus fare: three dollars. Unused comedy show ticket: fourteen dollars. Following Elias onto a grimy L.A. night bus: priceless.

There are some things "sorrys" can't fix and ditching my date last minute was one of them.

Staying with Kai would have been the right thing to do, but everything  right in the world went to hell around Elias, including my intentions. 

After being ditched by Rory on multiple occasions I promised myself I'd never flake on anyone. But I broke all my promises on the back of a run-down bus. 

My phone rang in my pocket and threw me headfirst into a mini-panic attack.

Kai. 

Again.

            "You should turn off your phone, Jersey. Twenty bucks says the bus driver's gonna throw you out if she hears that ringtone again."            

A slap-happy smirk sprouted on Elias's face like a patch of weeds. I glanced up into the driver's rearview and switched my phone to silent before the red-eyed, manly woman stopped the bus and tackled me.

            "Your fault," I said.

            "It's my fault you can't turn off your phone? That makes sense."

            "No, it's your fault I'm here."

        "You could've said no to me, Jersey. Admit it, you couldn't help yourself."

Elias shuffled in close enough to suck the air out of the entire bus. Heat sparked off his skin and sunk into mine like there was invisible friction between us. I plastered my forehead against the cool Plexiglas window as a last-ditch attempt to get my body to chill out before I freaked out.

            "Would you mind sitting somewhere else?" I said, half-ignoring his reflection in the window. 

            "Nah, I'm cool right here."

It started with his hands--the quiet click, clacking of his finger nails across the grey plastic seat behind my back until he planted his palm on my shoulder. Something far less pleasant than butterflies fluttered around in my stomach. Probably moths.

            "Do you always stare out windows when people are talking to you?" he asked.

            "Do you always put your hands where they're not wanted?"

He brushed his fingers across my skin, slowly enough to make me cringe and crave more of his touch the second he stopped.

            "Always."

I scrambled for my phone—any distraction was a good distraction from Elias and those hands. 

Fifteen missed calls. 

Kai deserved an explanation about as badly as I deserved to not be used as some kind of stand-in for his ex.

Whoever she was, he must've loved her enough to want to relive his memories of her with someone else. Cue me, the naïve New Jersey girl who secretly hoped her  "not date" would turn into a real one. But people don't choose love, love chooses people—just not me.

          "Hands off, Elias. A) I need to make a phone call, and B) you're breaking the rules, no touching unless I say so."

            "So say so, you and I both know you want to."

He was right, obnoxious, but right, and I hated it. I hated that some stupid, desperate, girly part of me wanted that hand and all its heat to stay stuck to my shoulder and those fingertips to trace lazy lines across my skin until I begged him to stop. 

But his elephant-sized ego needed a kick in the balls. Luckily, the bus drive did the ball kicking for me. 

A sharp turn sent him flying out of his chair and into the bus aisle. 

            "Back in your seat, young man!"

            "Are you okay?"

            "Don't worry about it. Just go back to calling Kai or whatever."

Elias raised an arm and stopped me from trying to help him find his balance again. He slumped into his chair and glued his eyes to the front of the bus.

Silence sat between the two of us while the caterpillar bus lurched to stop at Hollywood and Highland. My phone buzzed against the plastic seat, and I glanced into the rearview mirror out of sheer terror that  Mrs.Hulk Hogan might've heard it again.

Sure enough, the driver locked her eyes on me, and my heart stopped. She turned off the bus and stood up while the last of its passengers filed out the side doors.

I tapped Elias, hoping he'd snap out of his funk long enough to notice that a woman four times my size was making her slow and terrifying way down the aisle towards the both of us.

            "Out!" she said.

Elias came out of his daze at the sound of her, but instead of limping for his life, he shot her an equally threatening glare in return.

            "This is Hollywood and Highland. Doesn't this line go to Studio City?" he asked.

The bus driver pointed to her MTA wristwatch and rolled her eyes.

            "Route changes after nine. Buses stop running after ten. It's 10:06. Call a cab."

            "I asked you if this went to Studio City when I got on," he said.

            "Didn't hear you. Get off my bus."

Elias looked pissed enough to hijack the bus and drive home himself, but once he realized a stand off with Jabba-the-bus-driver would probably end in disaster, he backed down. He grabbed his crutches, got to his feet, and hobbled out the door.

            "You comin', Jersey? Or are you gonna sit there all night?"

His mood sucked.

I preferred the creepy, touchy-feely Elias, to the grouchy, irritable one. I picked up my purse and followed his lead right into a crowd of late-night tourist traffic bustling down Hollywood Blvd.

The sidewalk glittered under the street lamp glow, even beneath the feet of hoards of camera carrying tourists standing open-mouthed in the heart of Hollywood. The lights, buzz, and lingering smell of asphalt and Mel's Diner almost seduced me into losing myself to the scenery.

But the L.A. city rush couldn't outdo the thrill and terror of following stormy-faced Elias into the unknown.

Ever since my life turned itself upside down, I'd stopped being a fan of the unpredictable. Being single was predictable—miserable—but safe. No highs, no lows, no disappointment. But Elias lived life on the edge of everything, on the edge of boundaries he wasn't afraid to break.

Some part of me wanted to be free enough to crawl out from under Rory's shadow—and live. Elias was living. He did what he wanted, he said what he wanted. Maybe that made him reckless but at least he wasn't afraid to be.

He stepped into the first stretch of open sidewalk we'd seen in nearly a block and stopped to catch his breath. Grauman's Chinese Theater painted the skyline red and gold above the both of us. My inner film geek in me swooned.

          "So many great actors have walked the red carpet right where we're standing! I've always wanted to go to a premiere here."

Elias cracked a labored smile.

            "Let's go then," he said.

If it were physically possible for my jaw to leave an imprint on the concrete, it would've.

            "Elias, people can't just go to premieres. You have to be famous."

            "Okay, sounds easy enough. You sure you wanna be famous?"

            "It'd be awesome but since that's not going to happen tonight, let's call a cab. Unless you wanna be famous at home for going out when you're supposed to be grounded."

         "Whatever, we can split a cab and get home before Caleigh and Tanner. We've got an hour."

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out six crumbled dollar bills, and shoved them in my direction.

            "I've only got this much left. That comedy ticket was expensive," he said.

I stuck my hand into my purse and rummaged around for the solution to our situation.

            "Don't worry about it, I have my—"

Wallet. Where was my wallet? I panic-groped the inside of my pursue to find a pack of Trident gum, Chapstick, but no wallet. 

            "Kai took your wallet, didn't he?"

            "He wouldn't do something like that."

            "That's not what I'm saying. He paid for your ticket, but you took out your wallet to be polite and he grabbed it to stop you from paying. Remember? You were giggling the whole time. It was gross."

Oh. He did. Maybe that's why he was calling every thirty seconds.

            "Man, Caleigh's gonna freak if she knows I asked you out," I said.

Elias's eyes turned wild green.

            "So this is a date. Knew it."

            "You know what I meant. Maybe we should call them. I'm not sleeping in Hollywood."

Elias slipped into a dangerous smile and eyed the large crowd of people meandering around the theater lobby.

            "You still sure you wanna be famous?" he said.

I didn't like his tone, or headlight-bright twinkle in his eyes, or the sinister grin spreading across his face faster than a venereal disease. For a guy who didn't have much direction, he seemed dead set on taking things down a road I didn't want to travel.

            "I was kidding earlier. Let's just call Caleigh."

He turned toward the uncomfortably large crowd like he hadn't heard a word I'd said, straightened up on his crutches, and cleared his throat.

            "Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention for a second? I've spent the last of my money trying to show this cute Jersey girl standing behind me a good time tonight. But she doesn't look too happy, does she? What do you think?"

The eyes of at least one hundred people found their way over to me. I glared at the back of Elias's head wishing laser beams would shoot out of my pupils and burn his beautiful hair off.

He paced in front of the crowd, crutches in toe, and smiled at them like he was made for entertainment. A group of girls pushed their way to the front just to ogle him. They'd probably ogle a serial killer if they thought he was cute enough. 

The crowd "booed" at the less than happy-go-lucky expression on my face. If they had any brains in their touristy heads, they would've seen Elias for the liar he was. 

He didn't care about my happiness. He cared about winning a bet and laid. Period. But they egged him on like his story was gospel and played right into his scheme. Beautiful people really did get everything. He had them on the edge of their seats and me on the edge of my sanity.

            "Alright, the people have spoken. I'm gonna try one last thing to knock this girl off her feet just for you guys. So get loud, and help me make this moment special for her. If I succeed, donate a dollar or two to our future together. If not, you can go back to your lives, and enjoy the rest of your night. But I promise, we won't disappoint."

Right those words left his lips, the world stood still. The crowd's cheering, the clicking of cameras, and the roar of the cars on Hollywood Blvd. all fell silent. The only sound cutting through the quiet was the sharp clanking of Elias's crutches closing the distance between us.

Inches of air separated our bodies as he let his only support fall to the ground from underneath his arms. He steadied himself against me, locked one hand around my waist, and buried the other deep into my boy-cut hair.

I briefly forgot basic things, like how to breathe, what my name was, and the letters of the alphabet. But even in all my confusion, he held his eyes on mine—like they belonged to him, like I belonged to him, like he believed in his crowd-pleasing lie enough to make it real.

His lips were real—as real as the slow deliberate brush of his tongue across my tongue and his chest against my chest. His taste, his smell, his touch was real. The heat burning in all the places where his skin melted against mine was real enough to tip me over the edge of intoxication.

Butterflies kicked up hurricanes in my stomach at the creeping realization this kiss could end up being a-die-happy-best-make-out-of-my-seventeen-year-old-life kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that could make me lose the bet and then some if I wasn't careful.

So I fought back. I slid my hands into his hair and upped the ante on the tongue action like I'd kissed guys like this a thousand times. He sighed and smiled against my mouth like he'd picked up on the challenge and pulled me hard against him until my lungs were starved for air.

This wasn't a kiss. This was a black hole. This was a supernova. This was a bottomless mouth-abyss, and every second was—out—of—this—world.

Elias pulled back ever so slightly and cradled my mouth with his just long enough to breathe life into the possibility of a round two. I pushed against his chest to distance myself from an impending disaster while the crowd around us burst into a series of cheers and shouts. 

Elias collected high fives and twenty-dollar bills from the crowd and thanked them as they went on their way. He turned to me when the mob died down, and the two of us stared at each other in silence trying to process what in the hell happened just seconds before.

            I'd be lying if I said I won today. I didn't.

            But he didn't either. Or maybe he did.

            God, I hoped not. Losing would suck harder than we sucked face.

            But, winners and losers aside, I'd bet everything for a round two.

            (Just don't tell him I said that.).

Dear Nobody,

            Wow.

 -Alex.