The Beauty and the Inked

Eighteen: First Phone Call

As I lay on my bed, I can't take my mind off of Zack's lips against mine, his touch, and his embrace. Who would have thought the same guy who's always driving me crazy is the same guy who would make me feel... happy? My lack of term is definitely intoxicating me.

My room was dark; the glow in the dark star and moon figures on my ceiling was slightly as ever. It's entertaining, or I'm just too goofy because of Zack.

What now? He kissed me, and I kissed back. Are we in some sort of commitment? Maybe... but what if not? People kiss, Yssa. That's normal. I kissed a couple of boys before and never assumed or even thought of commitments, but this is different. With Zack it is different. Does he have the same thoughts as mine? What if the kiss means nothing to him?

My phone rang, drawing me back to earth. Unknown caller was flashed on the screen. Zack.

"Hey, Zack!" I chirped. Ugh. Have some poise, Ysabelle. I flopped back to my bed, with a face-splitting grin across my face. I can't help it.

"Err- I guess you were expecting his call," the voice from the other end of the line said.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Logan?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. Is something wrong with my Dad? I told him to call me when something happen, "Your Dad is fine," he said, answering my question.

I let out a shaky laugh, letting out my breath that I was holding, "Oh, okay. That's great."

"I was just checking on you," oh, that's sweet; "You were so scared."

I smiled, hoping that I could hold Logan thank in person, "That's very thoughtful." I heard him chuckled again, and I can picture his warm smile and eyes lighting up. "Well, I'm better. Thank you for asking," I said. Logan is one of those people who will never cease to impress you with their kindness. I'm glad that I met him. I need a friend like him.

"Uhm, so Zack isn't there with you?"

"Err, I'm alone."

"Okay, yeah. I thought so," I wanted to ask him why he has to ask. But I decided against it. I hear people talking on the background, maybe he was still at the hospital. "I'll call you again. Bye," after I said my goodbye he hangs up.

Apparently I wasn't that happy but not that sad. Zack got me this messed up emotions ever since I met him. Who am I kidding? How would Zack reach me if I haven't given my number to him?

My phone rang again; I slid my finger on the screen to answer it.

"Is something wrong, Logan?" I said in a less cheery voice.

"Waiting for his call?"

My breath hitched, it's Zack. I can't find the words to speak.

"I'll take that as a yes?" he asked again, his tone wasn't humorous, and I can picture out the crease between his eyebrows. His stern voice gives it all away.

"I don't," I answered. Actually, I was waiting for your call. I thought to myself.

"Really?" he pushed.

"Yes," I prolonged the’s’ to sound more irritated. Does he doubt me? Why? And as if there's something wrong if Logan call me. I mean, he's my Dad's private nurse and my friend.

"Okay," he said, "Maybe you want to hang out with us tomorrow?"

Hang out... like a date? No. Hang out. With them.

"Oh, okay. Sure," I tried to sound more committed than what I do really feel inside. Hang out means going out with him and his friends.

"I'll pick you up at five?" his deep accented voice was enough to make me feel giddy. I feel bad a few seconds ago, and now I'm f*****g giddy.

"Yeah sure," I answered. I curl into a ball. Feeling a little exhausted, I had a long day.

"You should get some sleep," he said. I bet he was smiling, that mesmerizing unique smile, "It's already late."

I giggled, "I know. I just can't sleep, but I'm tired," I answer feeling like a high school girl. I really like the way he calls me dear. Even though it sounds like something old people would use.

"I can't wait to see you tomorrow," his words made its' way straight to my stomach and run in circles.

"Really?" I bit my bottom lip, suppressing my giggle. This feeling is alien; I have never been so harebrained because of a guy. I bet Zack can make every girl drool with just his heavenly looks.

"Yes," I heard noises in the background.

"Whacha doin'?"

"Just chilling; watching crap TV shows," boredom lingered his voice.

"Am I boring you, Mister?" I asked innocently. I heard him chuckled, and I wish I was on his side to see his face. Oh my god, this is too much. Maybe I'm assuming too much, and in the end I'll be a random obsessed girl. Stop, Yssa. I overthink things too much. I meant it, everything.

"Of course not," he said, "Y'know, we're acting like teenagers," he chuckled again. This isn't funny especially when I'm confused where this will lead me. Stop, Ysabelle!

"Yeah, I feel like I'm a high school student. This is funny," I said sarcastically.

The line went silent for a moment, "Good night, babe," he said.

I wasn’t able to respond for a second… "Night," I wait for him to hang up. But the line was still on for almost fifteen minutes. I can hear the TV, and his shuffling.

"You should hang up," he said with his playful tone, too much for acting like high school kids.

"No, you should hang up," very silly. But I like talking to him, I like hearing his voice.

"Too bad I don't want to," he laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me," I pushed.

"It's just, I thought you never be nice to me."

I shrieked in disbelief, "Oh, You gotta be kidding me! Well, I thought you will always be an arse to me," I mumbled, sounding more cheesed off as I intended to.

"I was never an asshole," he defended himself, "You're always the one who loses the s**t," oh gosh. I know. Okay, he's right; I always lose my s**t whenever he's around. But he's always rude. Impeccably rude.

"But you're always impolite," I said. I heard him huff, "What?"

"What what?"

"You said something."

"You should take a rest, you hear voices," he chuckled, "Good night, babe."