Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Chapter seventeen

Zack's POV.

It is about twenty minutes more, and we are all in silence. I would look over to James once in every while, eyeing him unnoticeably, and stupidly, but I don't really care. He's handsome.

I like the way he's wearing a knit-made cap, covering his head such that the front top part of his hair is left uncovered. The style makes him look more of the bad guy. I want to watch him forever, as I take in his features.

He's changed his dressing too, now he's putting on a long jeans, ragged at the knees so that it looks tattered. The top he's wearing is V-neck shaped, the two buttons of the shirt are left unbuttoned. He is dressed to kill, a serial killer number one he is surely.

Him, taking away the silence makes me refocus my attention. "Uncle..."

His trailing off calls his Uncle's attention. "Hmm?"

"I got approval to take the trunk out of town." Then, James eyes shift to my frame. His brown eyes, reaching mine in my imaginations. "And, um, Zack will be leaving tomorrow. I'm taking him to Los Angeles. We can't continue to keep him here now that we have got the chance to help him out. He needs to focus more on the publishing company, and on his cousin." James reason with his Uncle's thought.

I drift my eyes to Mr. West, awaiting his response. He broods about it. Sharply, his gaze is on mine, a concerned look on his face. He seems fazed as well. "You consent to it?"

He's asking me if I consent to it, or James made it all up. What do I say? I know Mr. West will find it hard to let me go. But this is it. It all has to end one day, I guess. As much as it hurts, what choice do any of us have? If not because of the incident, we wouldn't have met anyway.

"Yes, I do, sir." Is my response, and immediately, I place my eyes down to my plate. I am finished with my dish already. James is almost finished, as well as his Uncle. I'm just drinking the watermelon juice now.

Mr. West takes his time, thinking more about it. He use his hands to shift his plate, a manner that tells me he's not eating anymore. He lost his appetite because I want to leave so soon, unknowing to him beforehand? Wow. He does very much care for me.

"I can still come back. It's not like I'll be forgetting you." I tell him, and he gives me a tight lipped smile. His good looks are back.

"You're being serious?"

"I won't joke with this." That, my reply, gives him the relief he wants.

"Okay, but, er, let us talk before you leave. It's tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, God. You kids of nowadays are something. You should have let me know."

Before James voice out, I take the words out of his mouth. "It came unexpectedly, sir. James and I never planned it until today. My sister will be arriving from her trip tomorrow, so that's why I will be going then. I didn't know it will go like this until about half an hour ago."

"Oh,"

"Is she into business?"

I smile, and shake my head. I already expect him to assume so, being that I just told him that my sister travels. "She's an actress."

"Okay, that's very nice."

James clears his throat to bring the attention back on him. "You both are so verbose." James groans, and I frown and so does Mr. West. "We want to visit the beach, uncle. So, I guess this is where your chit-chat ends." James adds, and stands, packing his dish. He did not finish eating his food. "Help me pack." He refers to me, and I nod, rise and help him.

At the kitchen, we both quickly cleanse the dishes. He washes them, while I rinse. In five minutes after starting washing, we are done. "I'll be back." James tells me, and leaves. I watch him leave, watching his back. Damn, they are wide.

As I walk back to the kitchen, I find myself thinking about James. I have noticed my thoughts reeling over to his side most of the time. Even some times when I should write, I will be distracted by the thought of him. It is weird, yes I know that, but it is true. I think it's my fault though. I acted like I didn't want him, but actually did, and now my mind won't let me be undisturbed.

Especially now that I'll be leaving, it is just so, so not okay at all. Turning my back, currently my frame in the living room, James comes into view, his eyes on mine. His brows come together.

"Are you okay?" The fact that he understands me, my expression, and my comportment is amazing.

"Yeah," I look down, and smile, raising my head, I move into play, "of course, I am. Just thinking earlier."

"You don't wanna leave uncle?" He ask me. For a moment, I am baffled at his choice of word.

Maybe it's the other way round...maybe I didn't want to leave you. My mind state. Oh, boy, he'll be driving you to Los, so you'll get to see him till the last minute, if even possible, he could stay. If possible. I repeat to my head, so it doesn't start to jolly, thinking that James will be staying. I can't believe I'm already missing him. I'll make sure I cherish this last minute.

"Something like that. I don't want to leave you as well." I say, and he seems astounded.

He clears his throat when he looks away, "okay, to the beach."

I follow behind him to the garage, once he's rolled up the steel crate, the trunk comes into view. He uses his hand as a signal to beckon me. I blink, controlling my thoughts not to overcome me. Inside the vehicle, I wait for James to join in.

He starts the engine, and we pull out of the garage.

"What about my car?" Just now that the thought came to my head, without thinking, I voice it out.

He hums, "um, you could come back for it. The mechanic assures he will repair it in two days more, didn't he?"

"He did." I answer with. That seems settled for now.

James says nothing again, but focuses on the road.