One Night Read online

  ONE NIGHT

  Kamille Rose

  To those who believed in me, supported me, and encouraged me to write this book, thank you. Love you lots! I did it!!

  Oh, and Mom… you can just skip over the spicy scenes.

  Prologue

  In the kitchen, I stood off to the side, quietly watching Joseph maneuver around. The air smelled of spices and herbs. He opened a wooden drawer and pulled out a spatula before centering himself in front of the stove. His back muscles flexed as he skillfully cooked away. I could have stayed in this spot admiring him all day, but he caught me eventually.

  “Hey, I didn't hear you come in.”

  The laugh that left my mouth was dry and nervous. "Oh. Yeah, hi."

  He nodded at the stools across the kitchen. "Go sit. Your omelette is almost ready.”

  I made my way over to the marble kitchen island and pulled up a stool.

  “Wait," he said, turning the knob heating the delicious smelling egg to the lowest setting.

  As he walked over, I stood from my seat. Like a statue, I froze at the feeling of his hands on my waist. The heat from his fingertips warmed me through the material of my — well, his — sweatpants as he carefully tightened the drawstring.

  "There you go,” he said. His hands lazily sliding from my body as if he didn't quite want to let go.

  "Thanks... and I-I'm sorry, but I won't be able to function until I know what happened last night."

  "Yeah, of course," he said, straightening up.

  "First off, we didn't sleep together. Well, technically we slept together but we didn't... y’know- I mean, I would never- Okay, let me start over. Do you remember the Tavern?"

  "Uh, yeah. The place with the fruity drinks and The Rat.”

  He chuckled shortly. “Yeah. When we left, I took you to Gio —"

  "Giovanni's for cheesecake,” I interjected, remembering that part.

  "Exactly,” he said with a nod. "There, you mistakenly ordered and guzzled down three Long Island Iced Teas which are made with like five different types of booze. They hit you pretty fast, and it wasn't long after that I was carrying you out in my arms."

  I shook my head, utterly embarrassed. Leave it to me to get smashed my first time drinking and make a fool out of myself.

  “Our parents were still together at your house and I didn't want to risk sneaking you inside and getting caught by your mother,” he said, combing a hand through his almost fully dried hair. “I took you here to sober up. As for your clothes... well, they were covered in vomit, so I had to undress you before putting you to bed.”

  That explained why I was half naked.

  "When you were asleep you were making these noises and I assumed you were having a bad dream... so I stayed upon your request and held you until you were calm enough to sleep again. After that, I fell asleep beside you, but I left before you woke up. It was innocent."

  I stared at him for a while trying to process all this news. There was no reason to doubt he was telling me the truth because he’d never lied to me before, but the girl he described was so unlike me. I'd never act so recklessly. I heaved a long, frustrated sigh and rubbed my eyes until I saw stars.

  Joseph took care of me. Alex was fine and my parents had no suspicions. So why didn't I feel better about all of this? Why was I on the verge of freaking out? Why did this feel so incredibly wrong?

  "You okay?" Joseph’s voice was low and gentle as he took a step forward.

  "I don’t know, I feel guilty.”

  “Why?”

  “I'm keeping secrets from my mom a-and from my dad, and he's done nothing but protect me this entire time. Now I’ve just spent the night at some guy's house because..."

  I trailed off as the worry on Joseph's face vanished and was replaced with indignation. I messed up.

  "Is that what I am to you? Just some guy??" he asked incredulously.

  I took a step towards him, but he immediately declined.

  "No, I didn't mean it that way. I —"

  "Look. All I want is for you to be happy, but you're still acting as if you have to report your every move back to your mother. You're letting her dictate your life when she isn't even around."

  Joseph was raising his voice, something he rarely ever did. I knew I struck a nerve.

  "Here I am going out of my way to put a smile on your face and make sure you're okay, but you always ruin it. Why is that?”

  His jaw clenched and released multiple times.

  "It’s because I’m scared!" Is what I wish I would have said, but I pushed him away. It seemed easier. "I didn't ask you to do any of this. I can take care of myself."

  He let out a humorless laugh.

  "Really? You can't even walk across the street without your mother practically holding your hand. Sienna, you're 18 years old, when are you gonna start acting like it? Better yet, when are you going to allow yourself to be happy for a change?"

  My hands found my hair and tugged anxiously.

  "I need a break. I need a break because once you came around, my life did a complete 180. I don't know what I'm doing anymore!" I shouted, my hands flailing about. "I was fine with being a girl who reads books and didn't do adventurous things. But now I’m confused. Now, I’m feeling all these things that I never had before. It's..."

  "What things? I might be feeling the same way...talk to me,” he begged.

  "I- Joseph... I can't do this. Maybe my mom was right all along, but I was too stubborn to see that she's been trying to steer me right. I don't need distractions. Maybe we should stop whatever this —"

  "Sienna... don't."

  At his words, I felt my chest tighten. He was making this hard for me to do.

  "Thank you for the medicine and the clothes, but I think it's best I go."

  "Will you at least let me drive you home?”

  “I’m sorry, I need fresh air right now."

  At that point I might as well have been talking to the floor ‘cause that’s the only place my eyes would focus on. I couldn't bear to look at Joseph, because if I did, he'd have seen the truth. He’d have seen that I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me close and tell me that everything would work out fine. That I was stressing about nothing.

  “Bye Joseph.”

  Not bothering to put on my shoes right away, I scooped them into my hands and slipped out into the bright light of the early morning. I broke down into tears, and I didn't know if it was because we had a fight and ended our relationship that was never really a relationship to begin with, or because everything he said was one hundred percent right.

  Or both.

  Chapter One

  6:30 a.m.

  The digital alarm clock on my bedside table wouldn’t let up no matter how many times my hand came crashing down on the snooze button. It wasn’t long before I rolled over and yanked its cord from the wall. Finally, a bit of quiet. However, my peace was short lived as a persistent banging started up.

  "This has to be a sick joke."

  I reluctantly left my comfy bed, walking sluggishly over to the window to discover the menace behind the ruckus. Of course. My best friend Alex stood beyond the glass with her hands planted firmly on her hips, a scowl on her face, and the wind blowing her short and wavy fawn hair askew. She looked like the perfect villain.

  The thick sleep cloud that muddled my mind had me fumbling with the lock on my window. Eventually, I got it to open.

  "Since when do you lock your front door?" Alex asked.

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe since I've had to prevent weirdos from barging in and ruining my sleep?”

  "Huh. Well, are you gonna let me in or what? I'm hungry,” she said, pointing to her toned midsection. It peeked out from underneath a white cropped tee she wore below a red deni
m jacket.

  "The key’s under the mat, might as well keep it.”

  The odds of getting any more rest with Alex around were close to none. After closing the window, I trudged to my bathroom and lazily felt for the light switch along the blue tiled wall.

  Looking in the mirror, I gasped. The wavy mane of hair on my head was matted and tangled as if I'd gotten into a fight with an angry bear last night. I needed to tame that somehow in the shower, but first to brush my teeth. Grabbing the purple stick from the holder, I squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto the bristles. That's when I heard footsteps drawing closer and closer.

  "Siennaaaaa!"

  With a mouthful of foam, I tried my best to respond. "I'm in *gurgle* raffroom!"

  "I’m gonna go find Mom and Dad and see what’s smellin’ so good.”

  "Go ahead, I'll ree down in a minute!!" I spat into the sink and rinsed my mouth. Minty fresh.

  Hitting the knob with maybe a little too much force, I turned on the shower and peeled off my pajamas. I jumped right in, groaning at the warmth flowing over my skin and aching body. That was the result of sitting at my desk studying for six hours the night before.

  After about fifteen minutes in my steamy heaven, my tender muscles began to relax. The rest of the time was spent trying to comb the knots from my hair. When I was able to run my fingers through and not get completely trapped in a web of black, I wrapped myself in my fluffy green towel and skipped to my closet to get dressed.

  I stepped into my favorite pair of cuffed blue jeans and threw on a black camisole that I could easily pair with my black ankle boots. After giving myself a once-over in my tall body mirror, I spritzed myself with a little perfume and headed downstairs.

  On the way, I could smell waffles, bacon, sausage, and every other breakfast food you could fathom wafting through the air. Setting my eyes upon the spread before me only made my mouth water.

  "You hungry? I made a feast fit for a king — or at least Alex and your father,” Mom said, shrugging in my direction.

  My mom, Josie. I’ve never had anything negative to say about her, really. She worked from home as an editor for a super successful interior design website, so she was always in her zone. Outside of that, she kept things at a steady pace at home and kept my belly happy and full.

  "Buenos días mi amor," (Good morning my love.) my father said.

  "Buenos días, Pa." (Good morning, Dad.) I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.

  My dad, Lucas, is the best dad I could have asked for. When he wasn’t checking on me at home, he was checking on his patients. He was a very well-known surgeon at the local hospital and those people couldn't be luckier to have him guiding them, as well as their families, through difficult times.

  The only difference between my dad taking care of me and taking care of patients is that he saves his magical hugs just for me. They always put things into perspective, and I might be 18, but I will continue stealing hugs for as long as I can.

  "Quieres algo de comer?" (Do you want something to eat?) he asked.

  "I’m okay right now, Pa,” I replied.

  "Well, you have to make sure you keep your head straight and focused, and it all starts with a good breakfast," my mom interjected.

  My dad plucked his coffee mug from the counter and dashed to the living room with Alex in tow, a full plate in her hand. At times, even he got tired of hearing my mom's redundant speeches about school and the benefits of a balanced breakfast.

  "Mom..."

  "This is your senior year and you have got to be at your best."

  Here we go.

  "It may be your last year of high school, but that doesn't mean you can afford to slack off. You'll be off to college in a matter of months. Every moment counts! You need to be — "

  Aaand time to tune her out.

  My mom is a stickler for good grades. I was a straight-A student and not once did she ever let me slip from my 105% average. One hundred and five friggin percent, yet I still couldn’t get a break. It was as if the more I received good grades, the more obsessed she became with hearing about them.

  At first her praise made me feel good because she was proud of me; I was doing something right. But later on, I truly believed that all she cared about was our family having a good reputation and if I didn't head off to college, then I was doing the family a disservice.

  She pretty much wanted to bite my head off when my chemistry grade slipped to a B; as if high school wasn't already stressful enough on its own. I had to keep the star student image intact, not that it was an impossible task. Among the highest-ranked seniors at my school, Ridgeway High, I was number 16 of 400 because of the work I put in.

  Yes, school was important to me, but with school being a hundred times more important to my mom, it was way too much pressure.

  "You don't need anything distracting you, capiche?"

  "Yes, mom." The smile on my face was tight enough to split my skin.

  "That's my shining star. Now please go eat something."

  I still wasn't that hungry, but the last thing I wanted was for a vein to pop, so I warmed a bagel in the toaster, spread a generous amount of cream cheese on both halves, and wrapped it in a napkin.

  "Only three more months, Sienna. Three more months," I muttered as she headed out front to start the car.

  Once the click-and-clack of her heels was no more, Alex and my father poked their heads out from the kitchen door.

  “Aren’t we on the same team??” I asked, giving a disapproving shake of my head.

  “I’m sorry, mi amor,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  My best friend, however, wasn’t as apologetic. She took my freshly prepared bagel and made her way out of the kitchen once again.

  Arriving at school, I wandered around the quad. There were still 10 minutes before classes started. I couldn't find where Alex had run off so quickly, so that was another reason for me walking around aimlessly. At least until I saw her chatting away with a guy near the front entrance of the school. They seemed to get on well, which was weird because I'd never seen him before.

  It was a little late for him to have transferred because we were nearly three quarters done with the year. This guy was new for sure and I couldn't help but study him. He was tall and lean. His skin was a soft honey gold, and he had a head of perfectly messy black waves. It wasn’t hard to miss the pair of full lips that I watched pull into a cheesy smile.

  If I had to guess, he was probably laughing at one of Alex's crude jokes. I looked on at them together for another minute before my mom's words began echoing in my ear.

  "You don't need anything distracting you, capiche?"

  Boy dressed in black was not about to become a distraction.

  ⋅. ✯ .⋅

  "That said, don't waltz in here thinking you'll be rewarded with an A for reading off the monitor. This is an oral presentation, and your classmates are the audience." Mr. Klein finished with a wave of his hand as he dismissed the class.

  I had no idea how I was going to do this. My last presentation completely flopped. If I could barely speak to someone I just met one on one, how could I speak to a class of twenty-four about American literature and how it’s impacted my life?

  "Mr. Klein, may I speak with you about the paper?”

  Christopher Klein, the best teacher of all of Ridgeway. When I pushed through the double doors as a freshman, he was one of the few staff members waiting to greet the new class. Back then he helped me find my classes and over the years he’s helped me find my way through many tough situations. I felt lucky to have been under his guidance for so long, and even luckier to have taken not one but two classes with him.

  "Of course," he answered, promptly scanning a sheet of paper with his glasses pushed down to the end of his nose.

  "Do you, uh, think I can present it during a free period?" I asked, kicking the leg of the desk in front of me.

  "Is everything alright?"

  "Yeah, it's just the crowd
s. I'm scared I'll buckle again."

  He set down the paper, giving me a weary look. “Sienna —”

  "Klein, please. I can even skip my lunch to do it. Who needs food, right?"

  "You’re not skipping lunch. Listen, I could let you present during a free period."

  A flicker of hope ignited in my chest at his words.

  "But what about your other teachers? If I let you off now, you'll expect them to do the same, and I don't think they’ll be as lenient as I am.”

  And the little hope I had quickly flickered out as I slumped back into my desk.

  "Klein, pleeease," I groaned.

  "Believe it or not, I was just as terrified of public speaking as you are now.”

  At that, I straightened up in my seat. "But you're a teacher.”

  "Ironic isn't it?” He left his own desk and made his way over to me. “The more practice you have with getting up in front of a crowd, the more natural it’ll become for you.”

  "I've tried so many times, but I always freeze up.”

  "You know, I'd always sink into my chair, praying I wouldn't get called on. I had to go up some time though."

  Which is exactly what I’d do when it was time to present.

  "Ultimately, it was a mistake because that gave me enough time for my nerves to quadruple."

  "What happened when you were finally called up?" I asked.

  "Long story short, it was about 12 years ago. I was in my sophomore year of high school and I got through exactly six words before I threw up all over the podium.” He brought a hand to his face and scratched the shadow of stubble along his chin. “In front of the woman who is now my wife, might I add."

  My eyes almost bugged out of my head. “Amelia was there?? You never told me that."

  "Yeah, well it isn't exactly a regular school-day conversation."

  "True, and I've never asked you about public speaking until now. But I mean, if she thought you were the one even when you sprayed the class with vomit, then that is a prime example of true love."

  Klein's cheeks slowly tinted a certain shade of pink before he rerouted the conversation.