Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1) (28 page)

My stomach churned and my palms grew sweaty. I hesitantly nodded, and found myself lost in his sparkling eyes. I gulped as his face slowly moved toward mine. My heart started racing.
Don’t close your eyes! Just don’t close your eyes!

My breathing faltered as he tenderly brushed his cheek over mine. His lips touched my flushed skin, sending shivers down my spine. He nestled his cheek against mine, lingering in that position for a moment. The electric sensation paralyzed me; I didn’t dare move.

If I had ever thought a kiss on the cheek couldn’t be romantic, I now stood corrected. It got hot—so terribly hot that the air around us seemed to be burning.

That feeling continued as his smooth lips touched my skin. I blinked. I had lost my sense of orientation. Was the world upside down, or was I?

As his face moved away, I cleared my throat, trying to regain clarity in my head. But Elyas’s look made me even dizzier.

“S
o . . .
was it bad?” he whispered.

The only bad thing was that I had liked it. “It was all right,” I said in a hoarse-sounding voice.

“All right? My heart stopped beating, and all you can say is it was
all right
?”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not exaggerating one bit,” he whispered.

His eyes. Looking at them was like jumping into the ocean without any hope of ever reaching the bottom.

My inner voice screamed, trying to remind me that I was staring at him again. I gradually came to.

“Well, u
h . . .
g-good night,” I stammered.

Elyas put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground for a second. “Sleep well, my angel,” he said, smiling.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and nodded. After a moment of silence, I walked on wobbly legs toward my dorm.

C
HAPTER
19

W
HO AND WITH
W
HOM
?

D
ear Luca,

How is my virtual dream man doing? Well, I hope?

It’s a complete mystery to me how you continue to come up with so many questions. Fortunately, your latest batch is easy enough to answer. Without further ado, here are my answers to your Proust questionnaire:

Favorite color:
Turquoise and black.

Favorite flower:
Sunflower.

Favorite animal:
Dogs in particular, but I like all animals. (Except spiders; they’re creepy crawlies!)

Favorite food:
Noodles, chocolate, and anything sweet.

Favorite nonalcoholic drink:
Coffee!

Favorite alcoholic drink:
Strawberry Margarita and Tequila Sunrise.

Religion:
Atheist.

Favorite sport:
I’ll ignore this question.

Sunrise or sunset?
Sunset.

Where do you want to spend your honeymoon?
No idea. I don’t plan on getting married.

Where would you like to be kissed once?
Is it me, or is that a come-on? Either way, any place would be nice as long as I’m being kissed by the right person.

Have you ever lied to anyone:
No.

Personal goals:
Overthrow the government and create world peace!

What position do you like to be in when you fall asleep?
No one’s ever asked me that. Usually I lie on my side with my legs either slightly bent or pulled up toward my stomach.

I hope you’re satisfied with my answers. Will I be getting yours now, too? You can take your time filling it out because I won’t be back until Sunday. I’m going camping, though I don’t even own a tent. Strange but true! Remind me to get a new cell phone number and new friends who can take
no
for an answer. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. I don’t even know all the other campers. And the ones I do kno
w . . .
Well, best not to talk about it.

I wish you were coming—and I mean that, seriously.

Have a nice weekend, dear Luca, and don’t do anything silly while I’m gone!

Yours,

      Emely

I rested my chin on the desk and looked at the screen. It wasn’t a lie: I wished he were coming. Alex would be glued to Sebastian most of the time, and all I’d have left was Elyas.

Maybe it was time I finally got over myself and arranged to meet Luca. It was too late to have him join us on the camping trip, but the second I was back home, there would be no excuses anymore. I was going to have to face up to my fear. Soon. Every day that went by made it unnecessarily harder.

Sighing, I looked at my watch and winced. My bus was leaving in half an hour, and I hadn’t packed yet. I jumped up and surveyed the room. This was so typical of me! If only I had made up my mind sooner about camping I could have spared myself this stress.

I grabbed my backpack and at lightning speed crammed everything I’d need into it. Clothes, toothpaste, hairbrush, cell phone—I chucked it all in.

I scribbled a message to Eva on a sticky note and stuck it to her computer, since I hadn’t had a chance to let her know where I would be. I threw my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed my sleeping bag, stormed down the stairs, and stumbled on my way out the front door, but managed to keep from falling.

I had hardly made it outside when the bus pulled up to the stop, a few yards ahead. I started running, arms flailing, and just made it. I was breathing hard as the doors closed behind me.

I got off ten minutes later and took a few steps, but then slowed down. A big blue Jeep and three black motorcycles were parked in front of Alex’s building.

Motorcycles?

I continued walking, but with a queasy feeling in my gut. No sign of Alex, Sebastian, Elyas, or most of the others. I only saw Andy and Sophie, who were putting bags into the back of the Jeep. Well, Andy was loading the Jeep; Sophie stood next to him with her arms crossed, watching where he put every bag.

When I passed the first motorcycle, I noticed Domenic kneeling in the street with a screwdriver, working on something.

“Hello,” I said.

He looked up. “Emely,” he said, smiling. He wiped his oil-smeared fingers on a rag next to him and stood up. “I heard you were coming. How ya been?”

“Pretty good—until now,” I said. “Once I caught sight of these big black jobs, I started wondering what you guys have planned.”

“Riding these,” he said with a smirk. “Believe me—the second you’ve sat on one, you won’t ever want to get off again.”

I studied the motorcycles. “I doubt that
. . . ,
” I mumbled. “Whose are they, anyway? Yours?”

“This one’s mine,” he said. It was big and heavy, with two exhaust pipes. It said “Streetfighter” on the black paint, and it looked like one, too. I gulped.

“That one over there is Sebastian’s; Alex is riding with him on it,” he said, pointing. “And the enduro behind it is Andy’s.” It looked like it was more for racing than touring.

“Where’s my assigned seat?” I asked, looking at the vehicles.

“Andy’s driving the Jeep, because Sophie won’t ride the bike. She’s worried about her
hair
,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But that’s not bad, since it’s easier to haul the tents and everything in it.”

Riding in the Jeep would have been my first choice, but since I hadn’t finalized my thoughts about Sophie yet, I wasn’t sure the Jeep was the right choice.

“Who’s riding with you?” I asked.

“How about you?” he said.

“Me?” My eyes grew wide. “I-
I . . .
I don’t know if I want to ride on that thing.”

“I’ve been riding bikes since I was sixteen. You don’t need to worry.”

I bit my lip and tried to smile. “Can I think about it first, at least?”

“Of course—we have to wait for everyone else anyway.” He winked at me. “Why don’t you put your bag into the Jeep. Then I’ll introduce you to my wife.”

“Your wife?”

He grinned and nodded at his motorcycle.

I rolled my eyes. Every day, my theory that guys entered the world with brain defects was confirmed a little more.

I looked back at the Jeep and at Sophie. How is it that German kids study all kinds of crap in school but not the really important things in life—like how to meet new people and strike up friendly conversations?

I sighed. Alex was never around when I needed her.

With my hands inside the pockets of my hoodie, I walked over to Andy and Sophie.

“You call that loading the car?” Sophie whined to Andy.

“Yes, I do. I’ve got a system; you just can’t see it.”

“Where did you learn this system? From a three-year-old?” Sophie put her hands on her hips.

“Hi,” I cautiously interrupted. “I don’t want to intrude. Domenic just thought I should—”

“Oh, hey, Emely,” Andy said, interrupting me as he pulled his head out of the car. “Hand me your bag.” Before I could reply, he took my backpack and sleeping bag out of my hands.

“You’d better say good-bye to your things,” Sophie said, turning to me. “It’s unclear whether they can be extracted from the vehicle again with this ‘system.’”

“You know what would be best of all?” Andy said. “If you just ignored Sophie. We’ve been together for four years, and believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

I grinned. They were both kind of funny.

“Ask
me
sometime,” Sophie said with a snort. “I’ve got to put up with this world-champion baggage stacker every day.”

Andy followed his own advice and ignored his girlfriend. He stayed loyal to his system and continued stowing bag after bag into the Jeep.

“How far is it to the campground?” I asked.

“About an hour,” Sophie answered.

“Emely! You’re here already!” I turned around to find Alex jumping toward me to give me a hug.

“Didn’t you take your pills this morning?” I asked.

“Oh, you,” she said, dismissing my comment with a wave. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Did I have a choice?” I grumbled.

Alex grinned. “No.”

Sebastian moseyed up behind her. “Hi, Emely,” he said.

“Have you considered taking Alex back in and exchanging her?”

He laughed and gave his girlfriend a peck on the cheek. “Not for all the money in the world,” he said. “And how do things look out here, Andy? Do you need any help?”

“Everything’s optimally stowed,” Andy said.

“Then I think we can get going!”

“Yep, I think we’re ready.” Andy looked at Sophie, then me, and we confirmed with a nod. “We’re just missing a couple of people. Where are they?” he asked.

“They’ll be right down,” Sebastian said.

I sighed. Too bad Elyas hadn’t broken a leg or anything. That would have saved my weekend.

“All right then,” Andy said. “Do you want to ride with us, Emely, or with Elyas?”

With Elyas? Was he crazy? That would be
way
too much body contact.

“I’m riding with D-D-Domenic,” I stammered. The moment I said it, everyone turned toward me in surprise.

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “Isn’t he a good driver?”

“Yeah. He’s a great driver, in fact,” Sebastian answered. As I surveyed the group, I noticed
Schadenfreude
taking the form of a smirk on Andy’s face.

“Is there something I should know?” I frowned.

“No, no worries. I think we’re all just imagining what Elyas’s reaction will be. Should be interesting.” He stifled a laugh.

I crossed my arms. I should have known. Elyas had probably included me in this little trip ages go without bothering to ask me first. With that realization, my decision was final: I was definitely riding with Domenic.

As promised, he introduced me to his “wife” and explained what I needed to do. Apart from holding on tight and leaning with him into curves, there wasn’t much else. It seemed like even I couldn’t do much wrong on the bike, so after my briefing I felt more relaxed about riding it.

“Here,” Domenic said, holding out a black helmet.

I moved the straps out of the way, tried it on, and realized it was heavy and unwieldy. The only advantage I could see was it made it harder for Elyas to kiss me. And I guessed it helped avoid that whole mushed-head thing if there was an accident.

Those two features were enough to sell me, so I kept it on.

“Does it fit?” Domenic asked as I snapped the clasps under my chin.

I turned my head in every direction to test it. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good,” he said, sitting on the motorcycle. As I contemplated the best way to get on the bike, I noticed the front door of Alex’s building open. Elyas, Jessica, Yvonne, and Jan headed toward us. My stomach nervously contracted.

Our “cheek sex” last week had tipped me over the edge. I no longer needed to imagine what it would be like to be close to him, because now I knew.

“Is everyone here? Can we get going?” Andy asked.

Elyas stood in front of the enduro and looked around. “We’re still missing Emely.”

He was looking around for
me
?

Good Lord, of course he was. He was
always
looking around for me. Why was I surprised? Well, because my brain fogged over anytime I encountered him.

I rolled my eyes at myself.

Andy pointed at me near Domenic’s bike. “Emely’s with Domenic.”

Elyas looked over, his eyes lingering on the oversize helmet.

I couldn’t say what kind of reaction I had expected. Angry, smug, or indifferent, maybe. I wouldn’t have expected the feeble, dull expression that I saw instead. His eyes went through me, and then he raised his hand and waved with a halfhearted smile.

I reflexively returned the wave, but dropped my arm once I realized what I was doing.

“Coming?” Domenic asked.

I blinked and looked at him. “Yes.”

I hadn’t yet solved the problem of how to get on. When Domenic scooted forward, I held onto his shoulder, and heaved myself up. Once on the seat, I realized people have to sit much closer than I had feared.

Where exactly was I supposed to hold on?
My eyes looked around for some kind of metal handle, but ended up on Domenic’s back.
I guess this
is
the handle. Great.

Domenic waited, so I finally wrapped my arms around his middle. He started the engine, and I turned pale. It was so loud I wished I could put my fingers in my ears—which would have looked silly, given the helmet.

Maybe I should ride in the Jeep after all?

I didn’t get a chance to rethink my decision because the two-wheeled monster moved forward without warning.
Help!
I silently yelled, holding on tighter to Domenic.

The loudness, the lack of a chassis, the constant vibration under my butt, the airstream—this was all new territory for me. It took a few miles to get comfortable, but once I had overcome my panic, I started having fun. It was such a different feeling from riding in a car. On the one hand, I missed the security and safety of having a protective metal tank around me, but on the other hand, the absence of that tank made riding the bike so exciting. It was like flying.

We zoomed down the main streets, which turned into country roads. For a moment I closed my eyes and thought about my dad. He would go through the roof if he saw me like this. He hated motorcycles. He used to volunteer with the fire department and had seen way too many motorcycle accidents.

But I understood for the first time why someone would get carried away speeding on a bike: it was a major rush.

The only thing keeping me on earth was Domenic’s smell. It was as penetrating as Elyas’s, but not nearly as pleasant. Domenic’s scent reminded me vaguely of the sourness of bark mulch that has begun to decay. I couldn’t say it made my heart beat any faster. Domenic and I led the caravan for a little while. About halfway there, a motorcycle raced past us, and soon there was no sign of it anymore. It had been Elyas; I recognized his shape for the brief instant we were shoulder to shoulder on the road. A girl sat behind him. Jessica or Yvonne, I presumed.