Another reason why I love this book is because I get to write about Deaf culture. That's right - you have to spell it with a capital D and I feel so bad I only got to know about that recently. Like I mentioned before, the reason why I feel so strongly about Deaf people is because I have a cousin who's also Deaf and I just really wish I could sign more fluently so I can communicate more effectively with him. I'm trying to self-study as much as I can, but it's hard since I've a lot of work, too.
Thirdly, there are several familiar faces from an old book of mine that will show up in the book. I hope you've noticed. And what happened to one of them will be a HUGE shock to many of you. HUGE!
I thought he was just like all the other bikers of the Afxisi, America’s most popular and exclusive underground racing club. Someone too rich, too gorgeous for his own good, someone too full of himself to be human.
But then I saw a secret side of him. Realized that he had just been pretending all along. Realized that he needed me, and that broken part of him drew me in, like a moth to a flame.
Now, I want to be the one to make him smile. Really smile, and not like all those fake smiles he used to make the girls around him fall in love.
I want to make him think of me, just me. I want to belong to him, just him. But most of all, I want him to know I love him. Not the biker, not the billionaire’s son, not the hot guy. But him. Kellion.
Even if his smile tells me he’ll end up tearing me apart, I need him to know he’s not alone. I’m his to love or destroy. Whatever he wants – I’m his.
an excerpt of kellion
I scribbled on my board. GOOD WOW? BAD WOW?
“What-happened-to-you-wow,” was the prompt reply. Witty, my art professor was, and according to him, it was all because he was gay.
I looked down on my current work-in-progress. It didn’t seem any different from my past works.
Mmm…maybe because I had used a different style today? Lettering was my passion, and I tended to gravitate towards casual-styled fonts. But this time, I had gone for the old school look, mixing elegant swirls and aristocratic curves as I aimed for Old English calligraphy with a twist.
Professor Edison clucked his tongue above me. “You don’t get it, do you?” He took my drawing pad and flipped to the previous page. “What did you write?”
Start tomorrow right with a good day’s work today.
I had written the words entirely in uppercase and using only block letters.
“And what did you write before that?”
I flipped back another page. This time, I had create a heart-shaped variant of a word cloud.
Every person’s destiny starts with the choice to believe in one’s dream.
My frown deepened as I scribbled on my board. I DON’T GET IT.
“Go back to today’s WIP.”
I did as asked. My eyes widened.
He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me!
And to make matters worse, I had used hearts rather than tiny plain circles for my exclamation marks.
This was what I got, for tossing and turning the whole time last night, replaying the way we kissed and touched in the cafeteria over and over in my mind.
When I tried to tear out my current page, Professor Edison burst into laughter. “Don’t you dare!”
I made a face. It was so yucky. I had to get rid of it.
“Seriously, don’t. The message may be too prosaic for you---”
I shook my head and wrote on my board. PROSAIC = NICE WORD FOR YUCK.
“Possibly. But I’m the teacher so you’re supposed to do what I say. So finish that and don’t throw it away. I’m going to include it in the exhibit.”
As my art professor turned to leave, I lowered my head to the desk.
My life was over.
Beside me, KC peeked at my work. “Oh. Wow.”
Eyes still closed, I just fumbled for my phone and typed. IT’S GROSS.
“I think it’s sweet.”
I typed again. You’re sweet. This is gross.
“I take it things are going well between you and Kellion Argyros?”
“Details please?” KC was practically begging.
With a sigh, I opened my eyes and started typing. I just want to make him smile.
KC inched her chair away from me.
And then she said, “That is so sweet.” She laughingly inched her chair further away right after, knowing her words would tempt me to shake some sanity into her.
I was not sweet. Ridiculous. I was just being properly…grateful, on behalf of the people he had helped in his life. I was sure they were many.
“You know,” KC began, making me glance her way. “I think I know what you have to do…” She paused then took her phone and started typing.
KC: Draw a photo of him---
Me: That is your forte, not mine.
KC: Haha. I know. Wait, I got it. Tell him he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life.
I nearly gagged. Looking at KC, I drew an imaginary line across my throat. I’d rather kill myself than say that.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God, I know – I really mean it this time.” She typed the words.
KC: Be grumpy.
Me: YOU ARE NO HELP. GRR.
KC laughed. “See? You’re already making me laugh.”
The bell rang, saving her from being killed and saving me from being sentenced for murdering my seatmate. When we came out of our classroom, the first thing I saw was…him.
He wore a simple black shirt and jeans, but somehow, he still managed to look like a fashion model in them. Seeing me, he immediately crossed the distance between us. “You’re scowling,” were his first words.
Before I could tell him why, he grinned and said, “This is going to sound strange, baby, but I like seeing you scowl. Major turn on.” He bent down and placed a brief, toe-curling kiss on my lips as if to emphasize his point.
When he lifted his head, I saw KC laughing silently behind him. Told you, she mouthed before walking away.
Kellion turned around to see who I was looking at. “Your friend?”
“You actually have a friend?”
I wrinkled my nose. Ha-ha.
He kissed my nose.
He always, always took me by surprise.
Kellion took my hand, and I almost tried pulling away before I reminded myself that it wasn’t like that between us anymore. Sort of. As we started walking, Kellion asked, “Did something bad happen in class?”
I shook my head, typed on my phone, and showed it to him.
Me: She told me the way to make you smile is to be my usual grumpy self.
Kellion said cheerfully, “That’s true.”
I glared at him while typing my answer.
Me: That can’t be true because I am NOT grumpy.
“All right, whatever you say, baby.”
Hmph. His face showed how much difficulty he was having, keeping a smile off his lips.
“If you really want to make me smile…”
I looked up.
He said softly, “Just be happy.”
This time, I gagged. Yuck.