Aika - I Feel Like A Girl Again

Once I recovered mentally from my own foolish spiral, I realized something important.

Caleb was still very much dying.

He was bent slightly forward now, one hand braced against the table. I hadn’t noticed he had already walked away from me to grab a drink. His face was flushed, eyes were glassy, lips parted and panting like he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this rooftop.

I grabbed a bottle of milk from a separate container and rushed to him. ‘Drink. Now. Before you combust.’

He obeyed immediately, gulping like milk was holy water.

He giggled. ‘You were right. It was spicy.’

He smiled the most angelic smile I’d ever seen. Even better toothpaste than commercial models. 

You silly, silly man. You were just dying and then now you smile at me like everything is ok? Just how much more adorable can you get?

Some spice stuck to the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, I reached up and wiped it away with my thumb.

There. All clean. Caleb is just but a boy. Not yet a man. What did I expect. Even two years senior me, he’s still innocent. Not meaning any offence in saying this, just the truth. He is just a cute virgin ma— boy. Just purely from the lack of experience, doesn’t know the hearts of ladies. I should’ve known better than to expect anything. Then again, men other than my father had been animals… How was I to know there’s people like Caleb out there?

His entire body froze as I kept touching his face while I was deep in my thoughts. He went absolutely motionless. He stared at me like I’d just recited forbidden scripture. I watched the realization dawn in his eyes as I pulled my hand back slowly. The “oh, this is why Aika looked flustered earlier” look. The delayed understanding. The internal screaming.

Oh, now you get it. I smirked smugly. Silly innocent priest. I swear.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘Th—thank you,’ he said as he scramble to decide where to look. My eyes, my hand, or my lips.

I smiled sweetly and as innocently as I could muster. Like I hadn’t just committed emotional arson.

‘Um,’ he said, clearly wrestling with something. ‘I don’t usually comment on how ladies look. Or faces. Or anything, really.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Caleb?’

He gestured vaguely toward his own upper lip. ‘But there’s… there’s sauce. On you. Like a… a moustache.’

I gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ This was from when I proved to him how “not” spicy the chicken was?

‘I didn’t want to be rude!’

‘It is rude,’ I protested. ‘It’s rude not to tell me!’

So I wasn’t imagining it! He was indeed looking at my lips earlier! That why I thought he wanted to kiss me! Turns out my face was just dirty AAAAAAAAAAAAAA~

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I didn’t know which was worse.’

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. I was frantically rubbing my mouth and telling my heart to relax when he leaned in and dabbed at my mouth. The fabric was so thin it might as well not have existed.

I felt everything. The warmth of his fingers. The careful pressure. The way he went still the second he realized what he’d done.

My face went hot instantly. His eyes widened. We stared at each other, frozen in shared horror.

‘I—’ he started.

‘I—’ I echoed.

Emotional stalemate.

‘There you two are!’ Someone said. Mutiple voices, footsteps and laughter followed.

We recoiled from each other like startled cats. Caleb dropped the handkerchief in horror. I caught it as I stepped back and tripped over a chair. I ended up sat on it, thankfully.

By the time my family reached the table, we were at opposite ends. Both pretending very hard to be deeply invested in literally anything else. Suddenly the graffiti on the hospital roof looked like an art gallery that I was admiring indeed.

The whole time I was facing away, my lips were still tingling. And judging by the way Caleb refused to look directly at my face, his were too. Nothing had happened. But everything had happened at the same time.

We ate in silence after that. We still both interacted with everyone else, and then eventually each other. Every stolen glance felt like a question neither of us was ready to answer yet.

My folks eventually asked me if I said anything untoward towards Caleb. Probably from sensing how far apart we selected to be. The version they eventually formulated was that I forced him to eat the spiciest chicken, so he had to retreat at a safe distance.

I was the victim of this all chicken kerfuffle and emotional hurricane yet somehow I ended up being the labelled criminal.

Somewhere between grease-stained fingers and shared laughter, I realized something terrifying. This wasn’t comfort anymore. This was attraction.

And we both knew it.