Heart of Ice

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Song: Angels- Mayday Parade

Of course I can't finish my teen years without one final blow of teenage angst.

Despite how it ended, I cannot keep that kiss with Hunter out of my head. The feel and taste of his lips molded against mine for hours, and even after it faded, It still seems like I can feel the gentle brush of them. It drives me mad-- not because I don't want his kiss, but because now that I remember what it feels like, I don't want to be without it. I've always heard people say about being between a rock and a hard place, and all of a sudden, I know that exact feeling, because the rock is smothering me every time I think about Hunter's kiss.

After a very awkward, pin drop silent training the next morning, I rush up to my room, skip a shower, and just flop onto my bed, burying my head into my pillow and letting out a frustrated scream as I kick my feet. God, why does his kiss have to be so infuriatingly mesmerizing!? Why can't he kiss like Bennett so I can wash it off with some toothpaste and never think about it again?

What frustrates me even more is that I've thought about kissing Hunter since I was thirteen years old. I've longed for that kiss. And now that I have finally felt it multiple times-- not that I'm counting-- no kiss compares to his. How the hell am I supposed to let it go, especially when he hates me, when I can't get it out of my damn head?

"Oh no," Cleo groans, plopping down beside me. "Don't tell me you're channeling your emo phase again."

I bury my face deeper in the pillow. "Leave me alone to wallow in my music, Cleo."

"Alaska. You are listening to Mayday Parade. That is voice for concern."

Now we all fall for the bad ones...

All the kisses over the past few months flash through my head like a monologue, and I let out another frustrated scream, slamming the pillow against my face.

Cleo gasps. "It's worse than I thought! You're playing sad emo songs that remind you of Hunter!"

"Shut up!" I grab the pillow beside me and whack it toward Cleo's voice. It thumps against her head and she gasps again, grabbing the pillow and whacking me back. I lift my head from the pillow to glare at her, and her look of shock quickly turns to horror.

"You did not wear non-water-proof mascara to training."

"Cleo, let me live my life the way I want."

"If I did that, you would continue to live in this poor manner," She stands and unplugs my stereo, and I glare before turning my back toward her. Cleo's strong-willed though, so the next thing I know, she's yanking my feet, sending me flying onto the floor. I groan as I slip off the bed straight onto my stomach, and she giggles behind me. "Next time, maybe try complying instead of being rebellious," She helps me up. "Let's go watch a movie. And not romance so you can't reminisce on your star-crossed lover."

I begrudgingly follow Cleo down the stairs, my arms crossed over my chest. "I am not reminiscing."

"Oh please. If someone took a picture of the inside of your mind right now, it would be a giant poster of you and Hunter posed like one of those old scandalous book covers with Hunter in a long sleeve white shirt that barely covers his chest and you in a dress that is holding on for dear life."

"You are actually insane," I mumble, but I know how I can get her off the topic. "But maybe there's something you should know about."

Cleo stops in the middle of the stairs, whipping around. "OMG, tell me!"

I blow out a breath. "BennettandIkindofkissedacoupletimesandalsomadeoutinthegymyesterday."

"Speak slower, Alaska. I need to taste the tea, not just smell it."