The Tide Between Us

After school, I hang around waiting for Vinnie to finish practice.

The sky's already starting to turn that soft pink-grey color that makes everything look a little bruised. It's cold too, the kind that makes your fingers numb even when they're in your pockets. I lean against the wall near the field, watching as people slowly trickle out, laughing or arguing or kicking each other's heels on the way home. None of them look at me.

I don't see Skye or Jamie again all day. I think they left together, which is good, I guess. Probably sorting shit out without me there to complicate it.

Vinnie finally walks out with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His hair's wet, clinging to his forehead, and his cheeks are pink from the cold and the leftover adrenaline

"Hey." He says as he walks out. 

"Hey." I respond. "How was practice?" I ask as we walk to his car and he nods.

"It was fine just really tiring." He says, yawning as he does so before throwing his bad in the back of his car. "Did your friends sort out their drama?" He asks as we get in the car.

I scoff. "No clue I didn't see them after school." I explain.

Vinnie nods silently and starts driving, I don't tell him my address or anything he just apparently knows where he's going.

We pull up outside my house. He parks on the curb like he's been here a thousand times, like he's not nervous at all, but his fingers are clenched too tight around the wheel for that to be true.

Nick still isn't home. The house feels too quiet — like it's waiting for something.

"You can come in," I say, unlocking the door. He doesn't answer, just follows me in silently.

"Cool place." He admires as he looks around.

"Thanks." I mumble, I lead him up the stairs to my room since I need to put my bag up there anyway. 

He sits on the edge of my bed like it's unfamiliar territory, his shoulders stiff, eyes flicking around like he's waiting for something bad to happen.

"You okay?" I ask him, sitting down beside him.

He nods, but it's automatic. Doesn't mean anything. His knee's bouncing and his jaw is tight.

"I just get weird after practice," he mutters. "Tired and kinda... not tired. I don't know."

I nod. I get it. That weird ache under your ribs when everything slows down and you're suddenly left alone with yourself. I know that feeling too well.

Then it's quiet. His shoulder brushes mine — light, accidental — but he doesn't move away. And when I glance over at him, he's already looking at me.

I blink. "What?"

He doesn't answer.

He just leans forward and kisses me.

Out of nowhere.

It's fast, almost clumsy. His lips hit mine hard like he wasn't planning it either, like something inside him just snapped and he had to. His hand comes up, shaky, brushing against my jaw and holding me there for a second like he's afraid I'll pull away.

But I don't.

I kiss him back.

And just like that, everything else goes quiet. There's no noise in my head for once. Just this — this warm, hungry, desperate thing between us that feels too good to make sense.

He pushes me back gently and I go with it. My back hits the mattress, and he's over me, hands braced beside my head. The kiss deepens and it's not soft anymore. It's messy and breathless, his lips dragging against mine like he's been starving.

His hand slips under my hoodie and touches bare skin.

Then he flinches back, eyes wide and panicked.

"Wait," he says, voice cracking mid-breath. He pulls back like he's been shocked, eyes wide, chest heaving like he's about to be sick. "Fuck— I didn't mean to—"

"Hey," I start, reaching for him. "It's okay, you're okay—"

But he's already off the bed.

Pacing. Running a hand through his hair like he's gonna pull it out. He looks pale. His hands are shaking.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he says, almost like he's talking to himself. "I don't know if I— I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"Vinnie, it's okay, really—"

"No, it's not." He finally looks at me, and his eyes are full of something that's not just panic. It's shame. A feeling I've felt many times before. Like kissing me ripped something open inside him he wasn't ready to see. "I can't do this. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just— I have to go."

And before I can stop him, he's gone.

Just like that.

Door slamming. Car starting. Quiet again.

Welp, I didn't think he was gay or anything but maybe Skye was right. I don't want to dwell on the situation too much because it will dig me back into a rabbit hole I climbed out of.

A few minutes go by, and I mean a few minutes. Like 5 minutes of me replaying the moment, wondering why he did it.

Then my phone vibrates with a message from Vinnie.

Don't fucking talk to me again and don't tell anyone about it. Goodbye Riven.

And that's all, I don't bother replying. 

______

This is quite a short chapter, what do we think of them kissing...

I have been really busy so haven't updated recently. I will be going back to updating at least once a day.