Cavin
"I swear, Jemerson, she's the prettiest thing I've ever seen in my life," I say, tightly hugging my pillow.
"Prettier than Zoey? 'Cause last I checked, you said the same thing about her."
I rolled my eyes. "I was young, and Zoey dresses like a… harlot. Yes. But her? Oh, Kiera…" I fall back on the bed, fantasising when I'd see her again.
Jemerson laughed. "Lemme get this straight—you fell for a thief?"
"She returned the wallet, the money and everything. But she stole my heart."
Jemerson cringed. But he didn't really doubt me. He said I rarely fell in love. So for me to be so obsessed with someone, then I was right about them.
"Well, you're acting like a teenage girl. And I don't think your parents are going to approve of your new found love."
I sit up as the realisation hit me. There was no way I was going to tell my parents about her—they'd kill me! But I honestly didn't care how my parents—especially Father—would think. He'd probably lose it and tell me to stay on the streets with her.
"I'm sure they're looking for someone for you right—,"
"If it's not Kiera, I don't want her," I declare loudly. Jemerson sighs.
Suddenly, my bedroom door flung open. "Who's Kiera?" Mother's sharp voice, full of curiosity, cuts through the room and freezes me in place.
I flinched, Jemerson and I standing up on impulse.
"She's a friend of mine from college," Jemerson lied. It's a habit of his, and he's damn good at it too. "She's in my department, and Cavin and I bumped into her a few days ago.
"Oh…" Mother exchanged glances between Jemerson and I, her face suddenly lighting up. "I can't wait for you to bring her home, baby." She walks out like nothing happened, gently closing the door behind.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I take a heavy breath.
"Your department?" I snapped at him. "Seriously?"
"Oh sure. 'Mrs. Cooperr, she's actually a thief Cavin dearest met yesterday 'cause she tried to rob him.' Yeah, that'd be fucking great," he rolled his eyes sarcastically.
I laugh. "You're a good liar, man." He glares at me for a bit, then scoffs.
Time went by fast, and it had already been four days since I saw Kiera. I craved her. I wanted to see her so badly. I felt like I was deficient on something. Her mysterious eyes, her glare, her face, her body. Oh dear heavens, I need her.
I hadn't gotten the chance to leave my room since I had a test coming up and I can't afford to fail. The last time, I got a B-, the lowest I've gotten in my life. Father exiled me to a shed on the estate with barely enough resources to last me a week. After Mother's constant nagging and begging, I moved back in after five days.
My problem right now was that I couldn't focus. My mind kept going back to that day I laid eyes on her—her beautiful dark skin and fluffy afro. How I wanted to bury my fingers in her hair as I kiss her. I sigh heavily as I sit there, thinking of all the things I wanted to do with her.
My daydream was interrupted by a knock on my door.
"Son?" Father called as he opened the door. "A few minutes?"
I stand up and nod.
He comes in, closing the door behind him. "So," he starts, sitting on my bed. "Your mother told me you met a certain 'Kiera'."
I should have seen this coming a mile away. I sigh. "Yes, Father. No, I haven't pursued her. She doesn't seem to be interested in relationships."
Father sighs, clearly disappointed. "Well, your mother and I will be ready to meet her whenever. Just give us a heads up."
The room goes dead silent for a bit. "I'm happy you're starting it over. I hope she's the right one. It's about time you got married." He walks away, closing the door behind him.
A while after he leaves, I throw my pillow at the door. "About time you got married," I mimic. "Bullshit. I'm not like you."
According to Mother, when he wasn't finding a suitable bride in the States, Father travelled all the way to the U.K.. He met her at a gala and asked her to be his girlfriend that instant. She agreed because they were in public and decided to give it a chance—a chance which eventually led to them falling hopelessly in love and having me before they got married.
Because of his novel like love story, Father assumes I can marry any woman I like. So, in his eyes, I was supposed to be married four exes ago. This is the 21st bloody century. Life doesn't work that way.
That night, when I went down for dinner, Mother and Father were sitting in the living room, drinking wine and chatting the night away. I walk past and went to the kitchen. Just then, I heard Father say: "I really hope he marries this Kiera girl you told me about."
Mother agrees. "But what about Renée? Mr. McCarthy keeps asking about it. His daughter is crazy for Cavin."
"Cancel the plans with them. They mightn't get married."
I drop the plate in my hands, drawing their attention. "You arranged a marriage with Renée?!"
Mother gets up. "Now, Sweetie, let's not get mad. We're cancelling it. You've fallen in love so—"
"That's not the point! So if I didn't, I'd be marrying Renée? What the hell?"
"Son, we just want the best for you."
"Best, my ass! You really think that'd make me happy?"
Mother and Father stood there, shocked. I've never raised my voice to them before, let alone to cuss so loudly. It's infuriating though.
Father, clearly vexed, finally steps forward. "Cavin, watch your mouth."
"You can't just give me out to someone to marry! It's the bloody 21st century!"
"That doesn't mean you should be single for so long when you take over," Father protests. "It wouldn't be good for business."
I twitch. He's getting on every single one of my bloody nerves. "Oh, so you'd rather have a successor that cheats on his wife than a single one, right?"
Mother hides her face, Father is silent. Then he speaks up, "Another word from your mouth and you're grounded."
I scoff. "Come on, Father. I'm twenty. That doesn't scare me anymore."
He gets angrier. I'm getting frustrated myself. And I'm tired of trying to make them see what they're doing isn't right. "I'm going out."
I leave my phone on the centre table so they don't track my location. I take my jacket and walk out, slamming the door behind me. It seemed to have broken Mother's trance because as I walked down, I heard her cry out, "Cavin! Sweetie, please, don't be mad at Mommy, please! Cavin, baby! Riven, have the guards follow him."
When I heard her say this, I made a run for it. I don't need to have them watching my every move like I'm ten or something. It's bloody annoying.
So, I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, and as far as they could. Exhausted, I make it to downtown Marstinson. Usually, the area is bustling at this hour. It's a hot spot for thugs and whores so people like me try to avoid it as much as possible—meaning they'll never find me here.
The cold air hits my sweat, freezing me. It hurts to walk, my legs are so weak.
Just as I turn the corner, panting like a dog, I see a figure. My breath catches. It's her.