Waterboarding. That was how weddings felt to me. An excruciating rush of abuse to my senses. The exaggerated happiness, the dreamy looks, the awkward laughs, the even more awkward kiss, and — my personal favorite — the self-loathing. All in celebration of two people who may or may not love each other. I hoped they didn't. It would save them a nasty bullet.

But judging by their nauseating vows, and the overly dramatic tears the bride had spilled, that ship had sailed, crashed and sunk. Luckily for me, experience had taught me one thing: Love was shit.

"Earth to Kim," Pascal whispered in my ear. We were at the wedding reception at table sixteen, watching the newlyweds, Emily and Jacob Tate, dance to Elton John's "Can't help falling in love with you.'

So lame.

"No thanks, I'd rather not be on Earth right now," I whispered back.

Pascal pushed his white chair closer to mine and bent too close, faux pity on his face.

"Who damaged you?"

As I stared at Pascal's profile from the right corner of my eyes, I wondered if I would ever come to like him as more than just a friend. I knew he would want me to. He's never actually said it, but I wasn't completely dense. We came to know each other at a Faith and Healing camp my church set up a while ago. To be honest, I had only attended because I didn't have the guts to tell my mom no. I mean, you could never really tell an African parent 'no' when they told you to do something. That was the quickest way to lose your life.

Anyway, since my disaster of a friendship with Julia, I figured guy friends were a much better companion.

So I was pretty welcoming of Pascal when he befriended me. It wasn't like I even had a choice — I owed him one. How we actually got to talking was a funny story. I had accidentally worn two different pairs of shoes when I attended the youth morning service. He'd saved me from what would have been the most embarrassing two hours of my life by lending me his slides.

"Not much to look at, but definitely an upgrade from that abomination you've got there," he'd said with a laugh. We'd been really close after that and managed to stay that way even after camp came to an end.

Dark, short, and blessed with an air of sophistication, Pascal was okay to look at — in the way that teenage boys were without causing the usual urge to vomit. He didn't even look his age. He was also French. It couldn't get any yummier from there.

Short story shorter, Pascal was amazing. But he was no Derek.

He didn't have Derek's brown eyes or stupid smile. Nor did he tease me for having small feet and tiny hands in the vastly annoying, but charming way that Derek used to.

No, Pascal was a different species altogether. His eyes were really dark, and he smirked more than he smiled. He was too... guarded. Immensely playful when he wanted to be, but pretty much antisocial. Sometimes it got boring. Other times, it was exactly what I needed.

The truth was, Pascal and I were those will they-won't they kind of friends. And although I didn't even think he and I would've dated before I met Derek and could even go as far as to bet my right arm he and I could never be anything other than we were right now, there was a tiny possibility that I would lose that arm.

Ha. Joke.

"Paz, distance. My parents are practically a table away."

He shook his head and pushed his chair back just enough, his dark hair falling gracefully on his temple, making him look more like the young boy he was. "It's a wedding, for Christ's sake. Besides, they can build nothing on something as simple as suspicion."

"Then let's hope for both our sakes it remains a suspicion."

He smirked — he was literally the only one who could pull off an adorable smirk — and faced the still dancing couple. "Your parents need to give you a break. You're twenty-two. This is adult abuse."

I rolled my eyes. "What would you know about adult abuse? You're only nineteen."

One thing I learnt from having a guy friend was that you must be equally as cocky or they would piss all over you.

"Whatever, Kimi baby. I still have more freedom."

I bristled. "Stop calling me by that heinous nickname, Pazzypants. Don't you have your little brother, Louis, to annoy?"

He smiled — no, beamed. "Kimi baby, you're so hot when you're mean."

I tsked. "You do remember that you need my help to pass your Equity test tomorrow, right? Keep that up and I'd be more than happy to let you fail."

"Merde," he cursed, grabbing his cocktail drink from the table and downing the contents, "You're no fun."

I gave him my best smile and patted him on his cheek. "Glad you're catching on."

In the meantime, could this farce of a wedding be over now?

* * * *

It's been three months already and the good news was, Dad was away on a business trip and my mom had some patients to take care of so she was working overnight — which meant I had the entire night to myself. Pascal had mentioned something about a house party his step cousins were throwing and normally, I would've said I wasn't going, but this was a French party! I wouldn't miss it for love or money.

Love.

My thoughts drifted to Derek yet again as I fished for what to wear in my less than impressive wardrobe. It's been so long that sometimes, I feel like we never even happened. That our relationship was just something my mind conjured up to ease my loneliness. But five years couldn't wipe out my memory of him or the feelings he stirred anymore than I could. It was all there. Like a growing tumor. One that I long since made up my mind to sear off.

My phone chimed a new text alert. It was Pascal.

Coming to get you in fifteen.

Shit.

* * * *

Twenty minutes into the party and I was already contemplating my departure. It was mind blowing with great music, French dudes and their sexy accents, and a lot of action. And that was the problem. I was not used to this much... pizzazz.

It was pretty crowded, but from my position at the door, I was able to spot Pascal by the window with a very demure looking girl. She laughed at something he said and kissed him on the cheek.

Glad he's having fun.

"I told you it's fine, we'll recheck it when we get home."

Why did that voice sound so familiar?

I turned around, and Derek Hill was standing right there on the front lawn.

The first thing I noticed was how my heart fluttered within my chest. The second thing was the mild, somewhat surprised look on his face. The third thing was who he was standing with, elbows linked. Julia.

Emotions washed over me in waves. Anger, joy, jealousy, disbelief, frustration. I thought being at a wedding felt like I was being waterboarded. Well, this felt worse. This felt like I was in a fucking Tsunami.

Why now? And why's he with her? What happened with Sam?

Julia looked good. Really good. She'd gotten taller, and prettier, and the shimmery blue dress she had on complimented her figure. If she was surprised to see me, she didn't show it. Derek on the other hand was broad and a little muscular now. He also had a good three feet on me. Before, he was only taller than me by an inch. He should be what, 23 by now?

Julia was the first to speak.

"Kimani Fox. This is the last place I would have expected to see you. You look beautiful."

"Thanks," I said, remembering Pascal's priceless expression when he saw me. "You too."

Awkward silence.

"Oh look, babe there's Khadija," Julia announced, pointing towards a Blasian girl who was enjoying her drink a little too much. "Join us when you're uh, done here."

With that, she was gone.

Babe?

Another awkward silence.

"Right, and I'm gonna be... literally anywhere else but here," I said, and proceeded to walk away.

"Wait, Kimani."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He shook his head as he took a step closer to me. He seemed uneasy and with gracelessness, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I'm an asshole."

"Don't patronize me."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing? Huh? What have you been doing for the last five years?"

He flinched. "I don't know. I just - God, it's so good to see you. You're even lovelier than I remember."

I folded my arms and stared at the boy — scratch that, man I'd given my heart to. I wondered what he was like now, what had changed.

He stared back, hope glistening in his eyes, and I fought against the urge to slam my lips against his and hug him to myself, beg him never to leave me again. My body shook with that need, but I held myself steady.

"Did you expect to find me wretched and miserable just because you broke my heart and left me to pick up the pieces?"

'You broke mine from what I recall. And you did tell me to take all the time I needed."

"And so you took five years?!"

I screamed that last bit out and unwittingly brought some attention to us. Luckily, the music was loud enough to drown out most of it.

Derek was by my side in an instant. "Kim.. Kimani, I -"

"Don't," I warned, taking a step back. He looked hurt, but made no further moves.

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to reach out to you, but I was still so hurt. And by the time I had gotten over it, I believed it was too late and that you had already moved on." He looked in a different direction from where I was standing.

"And by the looks of it, I was right."

I followed his gaze and saw Pascal walking up towards us.

"Kim, you okay?" he asked, eyeing Derek suspiciously.

I nodded once.

He turned to me, then back at Derek, then me again. His eyes lit with understanding as he accurately read the situation.

'The party's a bore. Let's go home. I'll drive."

"Home? Are you two married?"
Derek glanced down at my fingers and upon finding it bare, his breath hitched.

I pretended not to notice and nodded at Pascal, extending an arm. However, I couldn't resist the urge to look back at Derek.

He seemed... pained, but also relieved, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"I'll find you," Derek promised just as Pascal took me away.

How could he make something creepy sound so romantic?

When we got into the car, I asked, "Pascal, you saw when he said that. Did he look at me in an adoring sort of way or in a "how was I ever with you" kind of way?'

"Kimani, we're not doing this." His voice was clipped and stern, but it didn't phase me in the least.

"Pascal, it's Derek. My Derek from high school. I've told you about him. I think he wants to rekindle things. Or maybe it's just closure he wants. God knows I could use it too. I should hate him but I don't. Not really. I don't think I know how to hate him. Did you see Julia? Tall girl, shiny blue dress, annoyingly gorgeous? Her, I can't stand. I don't know why they're together. I mean I think they are cause she called him 'babe.' Do you know that he and I both agreed we'd never call each other "babe"? It's just such a lazy endearment for unimaginative lovers —"

"Will you stop it, Kimani?!" Pascal boomed, slamming the car with such force I thought it would come off its hinges.

I flinched. I didn't think I've ever seen him behave this way before in all the two years I've known him.

"How have you not written this dude off yet? For years, I've watched you paint the world as a terrible, loveless plane because one douchebag broke your heart, and I let myself believe it was just a phase. Now I see that you want to believe the world is as you say it is. You choose to be unloved and unentangled because then, you won't have to face any disappointments or heartbreaks. You're a coward, and you're selfish. And I'm sorry I thought — hoped, you were any better."

It dawned on me then just how much I didn't know about anything. It's been five years and I was still as blind as a bat. Pascal didn't just like me. He was in love with me.

A/n: Bet that star button will be in love with you too when you tap it!