"Ritchie," I said rather loudly. He ignored me, dragging me along by the wrist. I repeated myself, jerking my arm back in an attempt to get away. He stopped and turned around to face me.

If looks could kill, I would've died right then and there.

Instead of saying anything, he turned around and kept going. I just let him pull me along. He'd have to let go sometime, and if I was in too much trouble, I'd book it back to the diner and escape. He'd never remember me.

"Will you let go of me?!" I snapped again.

"Do you mind tellin' me just what the heck you just did?!" he shouted back, stopping again.

"I might've saved your life!" I retorted. He was fuming, and of course, I had to egg him on. "And now, I'm wishing I had that knife; who knows what you'll do with it!"

He, then, held the knife up like he was going to strike me. I realized then that I could die and never go back. Never see Joe again. Never see Charlie. I was even sad about not seeing Anthony again. Annoying, arrogant Anthony, sitting on a dumpster, wondering what happened to me.

But Ritchie threw it over the guard rail positioned beside us. "You trust me now?! 'Cause I certainly don't trust you!"

I went from relieved to angry all in one second. "I could've left you for dead with those stupid rich kids! But I didn't! I saved you!"

"I would've made it on my own!"

"Four against one, and the group of four has a knife? Yeah, I beg to differ!"

"Are you sayin' I can't hold my own?!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" But that was not what I was saying at all.

"Well, if I'm no help to you, why don't you go back and find a hotel by yourself!"

But, oddly enough, in that moment, I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to argue, exactly, but I didn't want to leave either.

"I don't have much money," I spoke quietly, shortly after my moment of realization.

"You think I do?!" he replied, still upset. I didn't blame him. I'm annoying.

"How would I know?! I don't even know you!" I yelled, jumping right back into it.

He scoffed, "And yet I offered to walk with you to find a place for you to stay and you pull this crap-"

"To save our lives!" I screamed, cutting him off. "I panicked and... and did a thing! I hardly know what I did! Just lay off, alright?!"

"Are you kidding?!" he replied.

"Does it sound like it?!" I was running out of things to scream, but I didn't want to walk away.

Then, I realized.

I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted this guy I'd just met, who was technically way too old for me, who most likely hated my guts at that moment, to kiss me.

He looked at me, eyebrows raised. Kiss me, I thought. Just shut up, and kiss me. I said nothing.

"I was almost there to save you! I almost made it! I was ready to get us out, but you did whatever you did and ruined it!" he reasoned.

"Oh, so I ruined your little save the damsel in distress game?! I can save myself, thank you!" I shouted.

"That's not what I meant!" he replied. "I wanted to get to know you, but you did that, and... now I don't what to think! I-"

I was tired. Tired of arguing. Tired of screaming. Tired of looking at his lips when he was looking me in the eyes. And he'd finally said something I could... work with.

So I kissed him. I pulled him down by the collar and kissed him. I didn't know - nor did I care - what the culture was like in kissing terms back then, but I did it anyway.

He jumped a little when I first pressed my lips to his, but he made no move to pull away. He even pulled me closer, pushing my neon backpack off my shoulders. I didn't even flinch when I heard the laptop hit the grass.

When I pulled back, he didn't look mad. He looked confused and curious, and his eyes keep flickering from mine to my lips. "You can still get to know me," I said, "at least if you don't yell at me anymore. That's actually quite annoying."

I thought that after I kissed him, I'd feel better.

I'd sat there, wanting to kiss him with such an intensity that I almost exploded. I figured that if I did, it would go away. But it got stronger and all I wanted to do was kiss him again.

"What are you?" he asked.

"A Traveler?" I shrugged.

He cocked an eyebrow, "A what?"

"Come on," I grabbed his hand, "who knows who's listening."