where we ate food like we hadn't been fed in years. Saganaki and numerous other Greek favorites were put in front of us, and the change of menu was both alarming and exciting. My mind was still slightly distant from the others, playing the last conversation I had with Evan over and over—to the point that Stella had started to realize how out of touch I was getting.

"Hey, you okay?"

We were meandering around the spot a little, while Leo put his photography skills to test by capturing all the Greek statues on display. I grinned at her. "Yes, just a little exhausted."

"Nap a little when we hit the road, then."

The second spot were the Carlsbad flower fields, a location which made us travel an extra hour. Xavier was driving, now—and Evan sat at shotgun, and we hadn't spoken in the café or after that. I couldn't fall asleep with all the chatter resuming at the back seat, and he still met my gaze from the rearview mirror when we jammed to more tunes, even passing me a smile.

I didn't quite return it.

When we reached the fields, everyone hopped out of the car in a heartbeat. The best part about road trips was the impromptu stoppages and figuring out things together, I was sure—and the flowers which seemed to bloom till infinity only made us more eager. I examined the humongous gate in front of me, an unconscious smile tugging on my lips.

"Oh, my God," Stella spoke, voice pitched. My feet got rooted to the spot whereas everybody moved further away, and someone nudged me slightly to get me out of my trance.

"Laura."

I shook my head at him. "Sorry."

He motioned for me to lead the way, eye shining. "You're tired, I suppose?"

The sunlight shone on his features, the blue in his eyes becoming emerald due to the golden sky. His hands were pressed together and eyebrows drawn—he looked nervous. I had never seen him nervous.

"A little," I paused, before walking adjacent to him. I then pointed at Xavier, and said, "He's getting the tickets."

His gaze didn't falter. "I know. What's up with you?"

We had moved into the incessant rows of flowers now, the smell overpowering my senses. I ignored his question altogether, hands behind my back and smile intact for Stella and Chloe who were slowly retreating backwards to us. "Laura, look at these," Chloe pointed at the pink Ranunculus, grinning widely. "This is giving me so much serotonin."

Evan just stood between us, poise fixed and eyes distant. Stella laughed at the way he acted, and then nudged me by the elbow. "Important talk, babe?"

"No—"

"Yes," Evan said at the same time, before coughing. "Well, we were getting to that."

Chloe slapped her hands to her mouth, eyes wide. "Okay, okay, we'll leave," she grabbed Stella by the arm, while the latter narrowed her eyes at me. "But we'd like the context, Laura."

"You guys," I sighed. "It's not like that."

"It's not like what, exactly?" Evan questioned, face amused. I smiled sweetly at him before glaring at the girls, who had managed to walk a good distance away from us.

"Start with your important talk, then."

"You just look distant," he had intertwined his hands. "And I was just wondering if everything was okay."

He was nervous. He was nervous, and he portrayed it in the way he would drop my gaze, rush a hand through his hair, or twist the rings on his fingers. He was nervous—and he looked too damn cute.

Focus, I stated to myself, and stared right into his eyes. My words still left my mouth like bullets, however, and heat consumed my cheeks as a reflex.

"I told you, nothing!"

He did not deserve to deal me at my worst, no matter what he has said and how much it had pierced right through my heart. "I'm sorry if I crossed boundaries back then," he said, catching up to walk at my pace. "I don't want any of us to be worried or bothered when we're here to do the exact opposite, you know?"

"Yeah," I grinned. "Yeah, I agree. I'm sorry for being hard to deal with, I guess?"

"All we do is apologize," he was laughing, taking his phone out and capturing a picture of the flower beds right beside us—pristine and multi-colored, breathtaking to the moon. He looked enthralling, no matter how many times I switched my gaze to look over, because somehow, something in his eyes shone with the power to replace the sun.

When I thought of changing the topic, he had smartly done it himself. "You look like a walking corpse, no offense."

"Fully taken," I rolled my eyes. "Haven't started my day this early, so that might be the reason."

"It's literally when our school starts."

I gave him a cheeky grin. "Who said I'm awake in school?"

He smiled. "You're insane," he grabbed the camera from Leo's hand and shoved it lightly in my face. I glared to say don't even dare, and then punched his arm.

"You've said that multiple times today. How insane am I really?"

He never responded.

He never responded, because we were pulled into a group picture which soon sat as a polaroid between my thumb and my index finger. The precious memory made me grin in a tripling golden hue—because Stella seemed beyond excited in the picture, Chloe beamed with a peace sign, Xavier winked at the camera, Leo and Sean grinned, and Evan looked mad about Raymond messing his hair up. The little piece of paper was as exquisite as a rare art in a museum, because it beheld pleasant memories painted in the prettiest shades of delight.

Warmth must've filled everybody's chest in an ever-consuming fire, because even the guys aww-ed. I could only smile, before we were all huddling out of rows of flowers beds all around. We had managed to be late by thirty minutes, and we still had a beach to visit—and the fact that it collided exactly with the golden hour made Stella lose all her sanity.

Laguna Beach was the busiest place I had ever encountered. Maybe it was because it was near Los Angeles, because that looked like the only reasonable excuse to so many humans concentrated at a single place. I huffed, partially because I was exhausted—but partially because a kid had run into me and continued to move in the same direction I did, before screaming in my ears and leaving.

When I had randomly muttered how much kids could annoy me, Evan had laughed.

We all were tired, and it was already the evening, making the water grow cold enough for nobody to interest in a swim. Even Xavier, who loved doing it so much, just plopped down the edge and continued to stare at the sky. Stella dragged us all to the side so that Leo could capture the perfect sun-kissed pictures of us—but primarily her—because no one was as excited as her for the golden hour.

The memory was enough for me, so I just collapsed on the ground, sand welcoming and soft. Soon enough, Evan did the same to the right of me, and I couldn't help glare. He continued to stare at the sky, however, which was a diffused mixture of golden, yellow and red: one giant conundrum.

"The sky is so breathtaking."

I nodded, with eyes trained straight ahead. He spoke again, voice soft and velveteen—words like a caress. "Aren't you going to take pictures with your friends?"

"Not in the mood," I replied nonchalantly, "You?"

His eyes were glistening way too much: enthralling and entrancing and all things godly. "Me too."

And then: "Why are you mad at me?"

I rose my eyebrows, face morphed in disbelief. "Me? I'm not."

"Please," he scoffed, "it's all over your face, Edwards."

Confronting him was the most transparent of all, and he knew that because he gave me an all-too particular smile—dazzled with stardust and perhaps a silver of hope. "It's nothing, really. I know I'm hard to deal with at times, and I'm sorry about that."

He laughed, sound floating in the air like a bittersweet catastrophe. Something about Evan Parker remained an enigma, one of a kind and too good to be true, especially with the way his smile crinkled, and the way his gaze could hold mine rapt forever. It scared me all the same, because he was the perfect balance of composed and disastrous—the pleasant scent of the earth before the rain, and the raging thunderstorms which could follow.

It felt like you couldn't ever know him truly, and it showed crystal clear on his face, because it remained the most of what he let people find out.

"Don't you get it by now, Laura?"

His question cut my thinking short, and my clouded eyes rose from my knees. His were looking away. "Don't you know that I don't like making you mad?"

When I understood what he meant, my eyes went saucer-like. His face remained impassive, stoic, and devoid of a speck of emotions, hands in his hair.

"What. . .do you mean?"

He gave me a classic look. "I meant what I meant."

My eyes snapped back to his, brown boring into the glistening blue. "I—what, exactly. . ."

"I'm not talking to you if you keep repeating the same thing."

He had already pushed his upper body off the sand with his arms, but I grabbed his hand in time. "Wait, okay, hold up—I did get what you mean, but. . ."

He just smiled lazily, making my cheeks warm. It was boyish and charming, and I forgot how my hand was still gripping his.

I cleared my throat. "I demand for a change of topic."

"Very well," he jutted his jaw in my direction, before completely switching his attention to the dipping sun into an ocean of cerulean. "Holy shit, look at that."

"It's so refreshing to see sunsets so clear," I retorted with, and a huge grin broke on my lips when I saw him smile at the sky. The warmth in the chest was bursting through the ribcage, through the cracks and the crevices which once crumbled down to poison-like ashes. The comfort was astounding, especially with him by the side—and I wanted to know how, or even why this was happening—but the comfort remained in staying oblivious.

"Hey, Edwards, tell me something?"

I hummed. "Like what?"

"Don't know," he smiled. "Something."

"My walls are painted blue," I blurted, and then refused to meet him gaze due to the embarrassment. "And, uh, I like making memories?"

He looked at me ridiculously, before flicking his head backwards and laughing. Again. All he did was laugh at me while I repeatedly made a fool of myself. "You're—"

"Insane, I know," I filled in for him, knowing that that was probably his adjective for me. He rolled his eyes, slowly retreating backwards and standing up.

"I was going to say impossible," he continued, eyes drilling into mine. "You're impossible, Laura."

"What did I do now?"

His hand was extended for me to take it. And as soon as I did, the boy in front of me was not so golden anymore.

"You're impossible for trying to mask everything with that pretty smile of yours."

how narcissistic is it to say that i grin at some dialogues of my characters, all of which i created myself? nevermind, don't answer that for my sanity

anyway, how are you doing today? let me know what you thought of this. you're golden