Sequel: Give Me the Truth Even If This Hurts Me ›
These Times Are So Uncertain
I
I smiled and kissed him forcefully; he moaned gently, and I trailed my mouth farther down his naked torso. He pulled me to allow our lips to meld together, and I fumbled with his belt. Once that was done, I leaned to whisper in his ear,
"Don't expect anything to come from this."
Just as quickly as I came onto him, I pulled away, lying next to him on my bed, and I closed my eyes, slowly letting myself drift into unconsciousness.
"Morning."
Tom Kaulitz ignored me and continued dressing. I sat up and shivered in the cool morning air sifting through the open window. His twin, Bill, came into the room, and I thanked the Lord that I had pulled my blanket over chest. Tom finished fixing his hair and left without a word or even a backward glance at me. Bill kissed my forehead, exited my room, and shut the door behind him. I sighed and picked up my cell phone from off the floor. There were no new voice-mails or text messages.
"Hello?"
"Tom, please talk to me."
"What is there to talk about?"
"Please."
"Kynna, shut up. I will call you back later. I need some sleep."
The line went dead before I responded, and I pressed the end key on my phone. A picture of Tom and me was on the display screen, and it made me smile widely. It was a surprise shot that Gustav Schafer had taken of us the night we had met. It was definitely one of my favourite nights ever.
"So what is Tom's problem?"
"I am not getting in the middle," Gustav announced.
"Fine. But, Gus, he's mad, and I want to know why."
"That is putting me in the middle."
"Sorry. Just can you tell him something for me?"
"What?"
"That...never mind. I'll tell him later."
"Okay. Good-bye, Kynna."
"Bye."
I sighed and went back to work. Luckily, my job as a bookstore clerk allowed me to concentrate little and think a lot. I kept replaying, in my mind, the night I had met Tom.
The guitarist looked up at the crowd, and I grinned as I sang along to the German song. His thin face was graced with a small smile, and the spotlights caught the silver loop in his lip. The lead singer finished the song, and the audience went wild, cheering and screaming their admiration: I was one, a part in the raucous noise.
I could feel someone's eyes on me, and I searched around for the owner of the intense gaze. A slow grin crept across my lips when I realised who it was. Four quick scrawls of signatures were applied to my CD, and I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket: a receipt for cookies and a few magazines. After scribbling digits on the waxy paper, I handed it to the male, whispering in his ear,
"Call me."
And four days later, he did.
"Kynna! Shift's up."
"Okay. Thanks, Jessie."
I drove to my empty house where even the familiar pale blue walls didn't comfort me. I sat on the black faux-leather couch, curled up with my head on the soft lime-green pillow, and wondered if Tom was thinking of me like I was of him.
"Don't expect anything to come from this."
Just as quickly as I came onto him, I pulled away, lying next to him on my bed, and I closed my eyes, slowly letting myself drift into unconsciousness.
"Morning."
Tom Kaulitz ignored me and continued dressing. I sat up and shivered in the cool morning air sifting through the open window. His twin, Bill, came into the room, and I thanked the Lord that I had pulled my blanket over chest. Tom finished fixing his hair and left without a word or even a backward glance at me. Bill kissed my forehead, exited my room, and shut the door behind him. I sighed and picked up my cell phone from off the floor. There were no new voice-mails or text messages.
"Hello?"
"Tom, please talk to me."
"What is there to talk about?"
"Please."
"Kynna, shut up. I will call you back later. I need some sleep."
The line went dead before I responded, and I pressed the end key on my phone. A picture of Tom and me was on the display screen, and it made me smile widely. It was a surprise shot that Gustav Schafer had taken of us the night we had met. It was definitely one of my favourite nights ever.
"So what is Tom's problem?"
"I am not getting in the middle," Gustav announced.
"Fine. But, Gus, he's mad, and I want to know why."
"That is putting me in the middle."
"Sorry. Just can you tell him something for me?"
"What?"
"That...never mind. I'll tell him later."
"Okay. Good-bye, Kynna."
"Bye."
I sighed and went back to work. Luckily, my job as a bookstore clerk allowed me to concentrate little and think a lot. I kept replaying, in my mind, the night I had met Tom.
The guitarist looked up at the crowd, and I grinned as I sang along to the German song. His thin face was graced with a small smile, and the spotlights caught the silver loop in his lip. The lead singer finished the song, and the audience went wild, cheering and screaming their admiration: I was one, a part in the raucous noise.
I could feel someone's eyes on me, and I searched around for the owner of the intense gaze. A slow grin crept across my lips when I realised who it was. Four quick scrawls of signatures were applied to my CD, and I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket: a receipt for cookies and a few magazines. After scribbling digits on the waxy paper, I handed it to the male, whispering in his ear,
"Call me."
And four days later, he did.
"Kynna! Shift's up."
"Okay. Thanks, Jessie."
I drove to my empty house where even the familiar pale blue walls didn't comfort me. I sat on the black faux-leather couch, curled up with my head on the soft lime-green pillow, and wondered if Tom was thinking of me like I was of him.