Chapter 1.2 Nice to Meet You

Landon

“Okay, one more,” I chortle.

It is junior year. I am higher than a kite and drunker than a redneck at a honkey-tonk.Well, not exactly. I took in three puffs and four shots, but that can send a seventeen-year-old boy through the roof.

“Whew,” I gulp down my tiny fifth glass.

Brett laughs ferociously beside me, like a wild hyena. I think he’s smoked too much. I poke him in the arm, and that sends him further into a rather disturbing episode. His laughter fills this room, but I know the blaring sound of bass- thump, thump, thump- drowns out his howl. Finally, I look up from my drink- which may I add, seems a little shaky at the moment- and that is when I see her.

Her head is thrown back, and she is laughing one of those genuine, hardy laughs, when you’re barely breathing and your rib cage aches. Her hair is bright and fiery, but those eyes- her eyes melt me like caramel sauce on ice cream. They’re deep green like the amazon, like the…these metaphors are terrible because the pot is setting in.

Eventually, the girl’s eyes meet mine, and her smile fades ever so slightly. Her expression turns quizzical, and she begins to jump down from the couch.

My nerves kicks in. My palms feel clammy and I check my breath. It reeks of vodka, lost dreams and low self-esteem.

A beauty like this one must run into losers like me on the daily. As she approaches me, I sense that she realizes my panic. Actually, I would call myself apprehensive, I suppose. No- more like about to piss my pants and run out the back door balling when I start making a complete fool of myself. I wish drugs didn’t make me so jittery.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” she pauses to smile at me wryly, “that you were staring.”

I tense up and I choke. I try to sound out words but they vanish in the dead air between us. Now, this angel, she is swaying back and forth. I realize that she too, must be drunk or high or both, and I use this to my advantage. I talk myself into growing some balls.

“You want to ditch this place?” I ask nonchalantly.

Her eyes light up and she places her hand over mine.

“I’ve been dying to get out of here. It’s so…boring,” rolls off her tongue.

“I’m Landon,” I start, as I offer her my arm.

“Veronica,” she laughs, “but everyone calls me Ronnie.”

“Okay, Ronnie, nice to meet you,” I laugh myself.

This all feels like a dream. On a normal night of Landon White, I would never ask a girl “to ditch this place.” I would never get passed my nerves to even speak to a female. Yet, here I am.

“You’re cute,” Ronnie whispers as we walk to my car, arm in arm.

“Thanks. You’re…something,” I say, “but you’re so out of my league,” I whisper.

“Don’t throw yourself under the bus,” Ronnie insists as I pull open the passenger side door. I roll my eyes at this girl, who on a scale of one to ten is an eleven, and shut her into my two-point-five level car.

I almost heave over when I try to catch the handle of my driver’s side door. This is probably a flashing red light I should not be driving. I hop in anyway, gangly limbs and all. I’ve done worse than this.

I start the engine and turn up the radio. I glance at Ronnie as I flip through the stations, and I finally pause on one when her eyes close and she begins to hum. At first, it’s soft and angelic, then her voice becomes deeper and grainier. My head spins, though my eyes remain on the dark road. I decide to set my hand down on her knee. It’s a quiet gesture, but a big step for a rookie like myself.

Ronnie’s eyes pop open slowly and all at once somehow, then she smiles at me. She rolls down her window, still humming, and sticks her head out into the night. I mimic her, and feel the cool breeze rustling up my already disheveled mop of hair.

I can feel the night coming to a close, which both excites and terrifies me. I won’t sleep with her, because I’m not that kind of guy. I just wanted to see if Ronnie Sinclair would come home with me. Stupid, but the truth. Sometimes the truth hurts.

Ronnie

Oh, shit.

I sit up bolt straight in my- nope, this is not my bed, I notice.

I lay across the floor of a small, unfamiliar bedroom. There is a poster of this nasty old man smoking a pipe on the near wall that catches my attention. The early morning light leaks through faintly, but I can make out some shapes. The poster is hard to miss.

The next thing I notice is a lumpy blanket curled up beside me. I poke at him- at least I'm praying it's a 'him' under there- but there is no sign of life. He is out cold.

Then, I realize that yes, I am wearing a shirt, but...I am not wearing any sign of bra.At least everything else seems to be in tack…

All of a sudden there is a raging gust of wind, eagerly greeting me from the outside. I manage to stand up (with much effort, by the way), to shut the damn window. I am freezing my ass off.

It crosses my mind that I could make a quick escape, but the short- lived hope vanishes when I hear a guffaw from behind me.

“Ronnie…I…” he murmurs. The boy is sleep talking for Christ’s sake. He rolls back over and a snore escapes his mouth.

A decent girl would probably leave a note…but I don’t even remember the boys name. What was it? Leroy? No- that’s not right. I mull the name-dilemma over in my mind as I push myself off the floor. The curtains hanging from the French doors- French doors! In a bedroom!- are prim and proper. I pull one back and suck in a tiny breath of air.

So, a rich boy,I think to myself. The crisp fall air nips at my bare feet as I overlook the backyard...which also reminds me I have yet to locate my shoes.

I push open the heavy doors with as much stealth as my heavy feet can manage. It is even more magnificent out in the light. I would dare to say magical, even. Like out of some Cinderella story book, full of fairytales and pixie dust. There's the mammoth fountain, smack-dab in the middle of the yard. Grey marble angels dance around its circle in serenity. The grass is fresh-cut, and the green is so pure, it’s almost blinding with the sun on the rise. I can feel the warmth start to work its way in, tingling up and down my arms. My toes are gaining back some feeling.

Then, there’s the pond. Dozens of exotic fish, ones I have never seen before, whirl around, giddy. Not a care in the world- merely others caring for them. They don’t realize how lucky they are, these fish; innocent. Never exposed to our vast world, and they never will be.

One of the fish rises up through the air, then plummets down into the deep blue pit.

The wind picks up, and the leaves begin to smack at my arms, rustling up against my nerves once again. I snap out of my reverie.

I finally decide to climb down the trellis that is beckoning me from below. I feel terrible, because there are these gorgeous Hibiscus flowers climbing up towards me. Hey- if the rich boy’s parents could afford a house like this, they could replace a few damn plants, anyway.

I grab a hold of the resin rail, painted a glossy white, and hold my breath that I will not plunge to my death. The mansion looks to be about three or four stories high.

I have to keep some sense of humility, I think to myself, if I even possess any- we'll just pretend.

When I swing my body around, I manage to grip hold with my right hand, no problems. Then, I feel my left hand slip past without warning-

Fuck.

Miraculously, a sturdy hand plucks me up before I can sink any further.

It is Landon- my knight in shining armor. Gag...

Oh! That’s the name- Landon.

He did manage to spare me a concussion, or worse, a crack to the skull. So I have to give it to the guy.

"Thanks," I breathe out.

As Landon lifts me up, I am surprised when he pulls me into his arms and against his chest. We stand- or rather, he stands- for a minute, simply cradling me here. As if he thinks I will shatter and break apart without someone holding me together.

At last, my knight in shining armor sets me down on my feet.

"What-" he gasps, wide-eyed, "were you thinking?"

"I...I guess I wasn't. I sort of have a knack for it, I suppose. Not thinking, I mean."

"Well, the next time you decide to go a little crazy, give me a warning!"

"Not like you actually care," I mutter.

"Excuse me?"

"You’re a prick. I could spot one from a mile away, I know all the shapes and sizes they come in, Landon.”

"You’re clueless. I don’t even know how to talk to girls…but I do care about a girl determined to plummet to her death! The trellis? Don’t you know how to use a door?"

"What if your parents caught me? I don’t want to look like some tramp sneaking out of-"

"Ronnie. I’ve seen you around here and there. I know you put on this “bad-girl” mask for show, but no one would ever think you’re a girl who sleeps around.”

“Whatever. I know you’re just putting on a “good-boy” face for me. Why would you care about some random girl at a party anyway?”

“God. Everyone is always under the impression that you have to fall for somebody or be enamored by somebody to care about them. Not the case. Can't a guy just care about a stupid, reckless girl without being questioned? We're all human and I just so happen to care about another human. Is that so bad?"

I blink and sort of exhale, weirdly.

Landon gazes at me with this hard stare, and then out of the blue he is shaking, and I can see his eyes become glassy, vulnerable. I think I have the wrong idea about him- he’s actually awkward. Vulnerable. He’s not a cocky son of a bitch like I assumed. Landon stares at the throw rug we stand on. He avoids my eyes, now. His whole demeanor has changed. Has the alcohol worn off? Is that what this is?

It is then that I take one step forward, or maybe we both do, and he wraps his bear arms around my small shoulders. In some strange way, it's not just a hug. There is something different about the way we embrace. I feel his heart beat. I feel his breathing. I feel Landon's every movement.

I have never felt this close to a person in my life, strangely connected, let alone a completely foreign boy.

We stand here for what feels like hours, wrapped up in this bizarre entanglement, all my nerves on end. Every part of me is burning, every particle is alive.

His voice is the first sound to break the silence.

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Americano," my voice is muffled against his shoulder.

"So, that's a yes?"

Landon

I’m not sure what makes her so special. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, because I’m not sure that I believe in that bullshit. What is it about her? I love Ronnie’s voice. It can be smooth and level one minute, then gravelly and fierce the next. She’s flawless. She holds her own. I’ve seen Ronnie around at parties here and there, but I never had enough guts to approach her until last night. I didn’t know her name until last night and here she is, standing in my kitchen, carefully watching me as I pour her coffee.

How ironic that Ronnie goes unaware of what kind of skeletons live in my closet.

“Do you like Coldplay?” she asks suddenly.

“Why?” I laugh.

“It’s a condition,” she explains, “one of many that I have when I like a guy.”

“So you do like me?” I question with a smirk.

She blushes as I grab the creamer for myself.

“Wimp. Once you go black you never go back,” she takes a sip and eyes me over the lip of her mug.

“Someone is full of themselves this morning,” I note.

“It’s a side effect from my hangovers,” Ronnie smooths out her hair then touches my hand, “but it’s not such a bad thing.”

She runs her thumb along my hand and notices the callused spot I wish would have gone unnoticed.

“What’s this from?” she asks, pausing at my scar from last year.

“Oh, I tripped. I’m kind of a klutz,” I lie smoothly.

“Really? I thought it was from a bar fight.”

She smacks me in the shoulder playfully and we laugh together. I pull out the stool that sits at our bar and offer it to Ronnie.

“Where are your parents?” she questions.

“Um,” I don’t how to cover this up, “my mom’s just out and about.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence. I’m not sure how to fill it, so I sip on my coffee. How can she drink this liquid tar black?

"Landon?" she asks, finally.

"Yes?"

“I’m sorry I called you a prick.”

I chuckle and say, “I’m sorry I didn’t let you fall down that balcony.”

“Jerk,” she smiles, then she places her hand over mine.

I can feel the warmth through my every fingertip, every nerve in body standing on end. I’ve secretly pined after this girl for months, and we just happen to meet during a drunken stupor. Who would’ve thought?

I meet Ronnie’s eyes and it’s almost like she’s reading my mind. She grins and shakes her head, then she yawns like a baby hippo waking from a long nap. It’s almost endearing.

“I think it’s time for bed again,” Ronnie jokes.

Her hand slips away from me and she makes her way to the sink. I watch Ronnie rinse out her mug as I think of what I should do next. Do I make another move? Do I give it time?

No…I can’t. Snap out of it, Landon. You know what the consequences are.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No,” she replies, “I had a friend drop off my car. Walk me out?”

“Of course, my lady.”

Ronnie

“Well, that was an interesting night.”

Landon nods his head in agreement and leans against the door frame, attempting to look nonchalant.

“I had a good time. Thanks for the coffee,” I smile.

Landon flashes me his crooked grin, and my heart flutters.

“Me too. In fact, that was one of the greatest nights I’ve had in so long.”

I’m not entirely sure what to say, so instead, I peck Landon on the cheek.

“I’ll talk to you later, Landon.”

“I’ll call you, Ron,” he shouts my new nickname into the breeze.

I wave then turn on my heels. I can feel Landon’s presence, I can feel him watching me as I float to my car. I grab the handle, but I don’t want to get in just yet. I twist back around to find Landon standing in the exact same position, his crooked smile in place.

“Do you want to grab dinner later?” he shouts, almost urgently.

I giggle like a little school girl. I’m not one who giggles often.

“Sure, that sounds great!”

“Text me your address,” Landon says, “I’ll pick you up at 6.”

“Okay,” I try not to sound desperate, but I never find guys like Landon.

Landon has turned out to be a witty gentlemen, and it’s almost like I fell for him before I even fell for him. He was staring so intently at the party, and I physically needed to talk to him. As in, my legs wouldn’t stop moving. I felt this pull towards him, almost like it was meant to be. Maybe I’m crazy, or maybe it’s real. I might be pushing it.

Sure, I thought he was some cocky, son of bitch at first. He just emitted rich-boy scent. When the booze wore off and his true self started to shine through, I saw something in him. I even sensed something long before that. I can see something in Landon I’ve never seen in anyone. Who knew? One night and I turn into a boy-crazed maniac.

There’s just- it’s a connection we have. Looking at Landon now, I know he must feel it too. It’s almost like he’s reading my mind, because before I know it, he’s treading down his front steps, heading straight for me. I feel his hand brush against my face before I can process what’s happening.

Landon’s lips are dancing against mine before I can shut my eyes. I feel his hand slide down to my waist, and my arms instinctually hang around his neck. I wrap my fingers around the nap of his neck, soaking in every bit of him. I feel Landon’s every breath.

This is a real kiss.

He throws himself into this, like it’s the last kiss he will ever have. I don’t complain, but I’m more than confused now. He was trying to build up the courage to ask me out on a date just moments ago, and now he’s mauling my face off? Boys never make any sense.

“Wow,” I exhale, when he stops.

“Sorry,” he whispers into my neck.

“Don’t be.”

“I don’t want to come on so strong, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Landon pulls away to see me. He bores into me with these scared eyes, almost like he doesn’t want the moment to end. His expression is hard to read, but there’s definitely some fear there. Maybe he’s never been in relationship before? Maybe he’s never kissed a girl?

“I’ll see you later, Ronnie,” he hesitates after a few moments.

We detangle ourselves from each other and part ways.

“I’ll see you, Landon.”

As much as simply the idea of a real relationship terrifies me, I can’t stop smiling on the way home.

What is it that makes me so crazy about Landon White?