Our lips press together hard, over and over. As his tongue lingers, the world around me starts to fade. For a moment, I lose myself in the kiss, but then a small spark of worry hits me. I feel like I have forgotten something important.
I push him back slightly and stare at his face. He has that handsome smirk that always makes my stomach twirl. We are in GASTON PARK, right in front of the illuminated fountain. Water arches from the jets and creates a fantastic atmosphere with my boyfriend, Josh.
"What is wrong, Han?" he asks. His smirk falters in a sudden.
He always calls me Han. It is short for Hannah. He mentioned a week ago that the nickname is surprisingly addictive for him. Though we have only been dating for a month, our date is off to a great start. That is why I chose tonight, in this perfect place, to give him my first kiss.
"Nothing," I say while scratching my short black hair. "I think I forgot something."
I am starting to worry that there is somewhere else I am supposed to be tonight. Then my phone buzzes inside the pocket of my baggy jeans. I give Josh a quick smile and pull it out.
The caller ID reads Mom.
Shit.
"Can I just..." I start, but he cuts me off with a nod. He already knows my mom is calling. I like that about him, he's smart and he can predict me to.
I step away from Josh and press the accept button. I hold the phone to my ear.
"Hannah, where are you?" my mom's voice demands from the other end.
"I'm at Gaston Park, Mom," I hiss under my breath. I try to keep my secret safe because I can't let her know that Josh is right here with me. My heart races as I hope she will not dig deeper.
"With who?" she asks. Her voice rises with curiosity.
Gosh, this is killing me. The feeling pulls at my mind, slow and painful. What could I have possibly forgotten? Something is missing, and the not knowing is driving me crazy.
"With Shams," I reply.
Shams really is the best. He is the kind of cousin who always has my back. I remember back in our first year of high school when I got caught cheating. Without even thinking, Shams stepped in and took the fall. He told everyone he was the one doing it just so I would not get in trouble.
Mom scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me, Hannah. Shams is right here."
The words slap me so hard my heart starts to hammer. I feel like the most disrespectful daughter ever because I am lying right to her face. Well, not physically, but e-physically. Get it?
"What do you mean?" I ask. My voice feels small.
"Just get your ass in here! Your relatives are expecting you in any minute!" She snaps, and it makes my throat go dry. "It is reunion night! You have five minutes to get here before I cut your allowance off. Do not embarrass me." she whisper.
The phone gives a soft beep as the call ends. The screen changes back to my lock screen. It is a photo of my brown dog looking back at me with big, happy eyes. I feel so dumb. I have completely forgotten about the reunion. My mother's voice rings in my head and reminds me that being late is stupid and embarrassing. I stand there frozen.
Mom sends a follow-up message with the location of the building. I force my legs to walk back toward Josh, who is tapping his right foot patiently. This is so embarrassing because I have to ditch him right after a kiss.
"Josh," I say. He looks up with those big eyes that always make me blush, but right now the only thing I feel is panic.
"Yes?"
"I have to go." I quickly explain the reunion and how my family will react if I am late.
"It is fine," he says. He smiles until his dimples appear. He looks like a cute little puppy who has lost his mother, but he is being a sport about it.
I hail a cab and eventually arrive at the building my mother specified.
"Thanks, sir," I thank the driver politely as I yank myself out of the car.
A breeze blows past and sends my short hair flying. My outfit is a total mess. I had not planned to wear this to a reunion. A plain black shirt and baggy jeans. She is going to go ballistic when she sees my style. I sigh and look up at the massive building. It is exactly how I imagined. It is tall enough to touch the clouds, and every inch looks shiny, polished, and incredibly expensive.
I brace myself and walk inside. The guard gives me a look, and his eyes are locked onto mine. I can tell he is judgmental, probably because no normal customer walks into a place like this dressed like a skater. I want to tell him that I am probably richer than he is, but I keep moving.
I approach the staff at the front counter. The lady is wearing a sleek, midnight-blue silk blazer paired with a sharp, high-collared white blouse and a matching pencil skirt that looks expensive. She gives me the room number, and I begin my journey through the building. My legs feel like they are going limp until I finally find the door.
Room 1112.
I pull a small mirror from my pocket to check my face. I want to make sure there are no stains and that I still look as gorgeous as possible. My hazel eyes look tired, but they are still beautiful. I tuck the mirror back in, take a deep breath, and push through the doors.
Thirty-five sets of eyes lock onto me from the long tables. They track my every move with predatory precision. A suffocating heat climbs my neck and flushes my cheeks a violent crimson as their collective gaze strips me bare. I feel like cornered prey in a room full of wolves.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath.