Chapter 8: Reminiscing Gunshots

Miguel was having a chat with the guy in the counter, while I was preventing myself to look at them. Finally, my clothes were done that took almost forever. After I pulled out my clothes, I quickly went to a secluded spot and changed my outfit.

My uniform that was once stained with blood and dirt was now freshly cleaned up by that washer. Wasn't it just great? Now my only problem was how to get out of here without Miguel recognizing me in this fucked up state. Probably because I had a band-aid beside my right eye and a growing bruise on my cheek. I didn't want to face him in this state.

Hesitating, I stepped my foot outside and left the shirt and jeans inside and tried to walk slowly towards the door. Unfortunately, my stupid knee suddenly hit a basket of an old woman, making her clothes scattered on the ground. Shit.

"Watch it, kid!" the old woman exclaimed, wobbling. She slowly stood up her seat and picked up pieces of clothes laying on the floor. I helped her clean up, ignoring the fact that I just drew everyone's attention to us.

"Hey ma'am, let me help you," a man's voice suddenly spoke as he crouched behind me, picking the clothes on the ground.

My mind was totally distracted. I was trying my best to look away from him so he wouldn't notice me but it was just impossible. The woman was probably frowning at me right now, wrinkling her forehead from my carelessness.

I stood up from crouching and quickly moved my way to the door without a glimpse. I was about to pull it open when I heard Miguel called my name.

"Lala, wait," he called from behind, walking towards me.

With my nervous state, I slowly turned my back to face him and smiled sheepishly.

"Miguel. . ." the only thing that came out of my mouth. He stood there with his tall figure, wearing a jet black t-shirt, a thin silver necklace hanging around his neck, and black baggy sweatpants.

He examined my face, not quite long before he noticed something strange. From the way my hair cascaded messily down my waist, a uniform that wasn't worn properly, and a beaten-up face that looked so florid. Concern filled his beautiful eyes and he held my arm.

"Did something happen to you?" he worriedly asked, looking down my eyes.

"I'm totally fine. Something went up and I got myself into a little fight," I lied, plastering a plastic smile. "What are you doing here?" I asked instead to change the topic. He glanced at the boy in the counter and returned his gaze at me.

"I came to visit a friend and it's a coincidence to see you here," he answered. He looked down at my hands and saw my swollen knuckles before giving me a skeptical look. "Lala, what happened to you?" he added.

His gentle voice eased my nervousness a bit. I ran my hand behind my neck and smiled hesitantly. My mind continued to think about what I should say to escape the conversation.

"I. . ." I stuttered. "I have to go," I added and immediately went outside.

As the embarrassing moment flashed in my mind, I couldn't help but put my hand on my forehead and grimace in disgust. My feet quickly moved towards my car, as the night breeze blew on my skin, causing the hair behind my neck to rise

I was so embarrassed. He was just too attractive, and all I could do was stare at him blankly. He seemed so familiar to the point where I got to wonder where we exactly met. Somehow it didn't matter. I had never been so bothered about guys and he was really giving me a weird feeling.

"Hey," a sudden voice spoke from behind, causing me to turn my back as he grabbed my hand and turned me around. I came face to face with Miguel again, with that million-dollar smile.

His warm hands caused butterflies in my stomach and heat started to form on my cheeks. What was he doing?

"I was just wondering if we could go grab some coffee?" he asked hesitantly, clasping his hands together.

My eyes widened and heat started to burst out of my face. I immediately looked away and hid the blush that was starting to form on my cheeks. I had no idea what he was doing to me. The way he sent electricity while we talk, it was quite odd.

"That sounds great," I responded sheepishly, pulling out my car remote in my pocket.

"Is that your car?" he asked, pointing at the white Benz behind me.

I glanced at my car and laid my hand on the roof before responding, "Yeah. I just bought it two days ago."

"That's nice." He smiled.

Then an awkward silence filled the gap between us, and I was so lost in my thoughts because I was exhausted. My mind just hung in the air.

Suddenly, Miguel beckoned me to go with him along the road and I immediately complied.

It was too cold outside and the atmosphere was pretty quiet. It was already night time and people were starting to diminish in this area. We were currently strolling along the path to the coffee shop near the parking lot, and I felt amazing with him. After all the drama that came up a while ago, the fight that raged in that chaos, he kind of made me forget all those crap, to be honest.

I wasn't used to being around guys my age-- unlike most girls-- that's why I acted so awkward towards them. It was quite funny how I stuttered around Miguel and he acted like it was normal. I kind of felt like a teenager again, and the freedom I had been longing for was finally here. I was finally making progress by surrounding myself with new people.

"So. . . what happened to you, Lala?" Miguel asked this question again for the third time, breaking the silence between us. Was he really that concerned?

"Well, I'm really okay, Miguel, nothing to worry about." I chuckled and smiled at him. He looked me in the eyes with his chocolate ones that was filled with concern.

"I'm actually worried about you. You are hurt and I can see it." He pointed to my left cheek as we continued to walk.

I needed to come up with a believable lie or else he wouldn't stop being too nosy about it.

"Okay so I had a boxing training a while ago and this happened," I lied and shrugged. He looked at me again, frown formed on his face.

"But you told me in the laundry shop that you got into a little fight, right?" He furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "C'mon Lala, if someone hurt you, I swear they need to pay. Girls always have to be protected," he said, sending back a memory that was once too cloudy to reminisce. Now it all made sense how every time I look at him, it was all so familiar.

Oh my god. . . wasn't. . . wasn't he the guy that saved me back when I was fifteen?

Flashback

I sensed a sudden movement beside me and felt a warm grip wrapped around my right arm. My breath hitched and my body began to tremble. For a second there, I thought I was screwed, so I just looked at the person beside me. Meeting the person's concerned eyes, I noticed some beads of sweat forming on his forehead as it glistened in the darkness. He pursed his lips before muttering to keep quiet and held my hand, as he got me out of the bar. I wasn't sure I had seen this person before, nor did I know he was working with William.

It was still dark. The kind of dark that only the moon outside was the source of light, as it peeked through the broken cement and ceiling. My wound continued to bleed and the pain blocked my mind from doing anything. I was wincing in torment, the blood ran down from the wound down to my forearm. I tried to get my free hand to grasp the agonizing wound, hoping it would lessen the bleeding but it didn't help. All I gotta do was run to get out of here. I couldn't even fathom why this person even tried to save me.

We suddenly stopped in a parking lot, filled with a bunch of cars. There was finally a light, and a breath of relief rushed out of my mouth. The pain got worse, while the bullet dug deeper into my skin, making me grimace in pain. The guy noticed my misery, as he scanned my wound and ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt.

"Sorry for their bad behavior that put you in this suffering," he spoke, tying the cloth around my wounded arm.

I finally had a glimpse of him. I had never seen him before but he must've been involved in this. He looked like he was about my age.

"What is this for?" I asked in confusion.

When he was done tying the cloth, he then looked at me and said, "Girls always have to be protected. But it doesn't matter if I saved you because I'll be leaving without an introduction anyways. I need to be enclose, so be safe and hope we'll see each other again."

End of flashback

I reminisced through my memory and pictured him as that person. Wow. It was really him. How could I forget? It was literally two years ago and I couldn't believe that I would actually remember him. He left a mark in my head, and it was amazing how I met him now. That was the reason why he looked so familiar at first, and his voice seemed to be recorded in my memory. Should I tell him?

We reached the coffee shop and Miguel opened it for me. We approached the counter and bought two coffees: mine was cappuccino and his' macchiato. After getting our beverages, we sat in a vacant booth and chat more.

I really couldn't believe that after those years, I would be meeting him again. This couldn't be happening. My life wasn't a fairytale to be pulling me towards the person I met two years ago.

"Thanks for the time, Lala. I really appreciate it," he spoke before taking a sip of his coffee.

"No problem. By the way, why did you ask me to grab a coffee with you?" I responded.

He chuckled before responding, "Haven't you went out with guys before?" he asked in amusement.

"No. . ."

"Weird," he muttered with a slight smirk. "Most guys, they go out with girls they laid eyes on," he added.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"For me, girls are interesting and fun to be with and I want to get to know you." He smiled genuinely.

Oh my god, was he gay? That couldn't be. Look at those gorgeous eyes and perfect face, how could someone so masculine in his movement turned out to be gay? Or was I just overthinking?

I shook my head from the thought and sheepishly smiled. He chuckled again, giving me that amused look.

"Don't worry, I'm a good guy. I'm not gonna hurt you," he assured. I knew but that's not what I meant.

While we were talking, a girl suddenly approached us and a smile plastered on her face.

"Miggy!" she said aloud which almost sounded like a shriek.

Miguel looked at her and smiled genuinely before standing up his chair and hugged her tight. The girl was familiar and if I wasn't mistaken, she was with Kourtney at school: Amanda Ramsey, one of the gorgeous royal in Kingsley. Just perfect.

After their embrace, Miguel wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and looked at me happily. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat and my chest became heavy that I couldn't quite explain. I gave him a plastic smile, as I began to fidget my fingers.

"Lala, this is Amanda. My-" He was about to say something when she cut him off.

"Girlfriend." She grinned. "I've met her, sweety. Kourtney had a little chat with her at the cafeteria," she added, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah. . ." I awkwardly responded.

Now everything was getting a little weird. First of all, the feeling Miguel uplifted in me started to deplete and my mind began to race a marathon of mixed emotions. I felt like I want the world to swallow me right now and just be gone out of their sights. Now, what was I going to do?

~*~