T H R E E
a meteorite: a small body of matter from outer space that enters the earth's atmosphere, becoming incandescent as a result of the friction, and appearing as a light streak.

Dedicated to voidmoriarty

. • . ☆ . • .

I DIDN'T KNOW where we were going until the taxi Cole had hailed swerved into a narrow street in the outskirts of New York city. Here, the lights were minimal, and a rustic bar peered around the corner of the alleyway in an abundance of metal chairs and matching tables. The journey had taken just under ten minutes, and the talk had been minimal, especially when both of us were too exhausted to give proper introductions.

"Thanks, mate," Cole said as he gave the driver a few loose dollar bills.

I reached into my pocket, hoping to offer some money towards the fare, but they were empty exempt from my phone and debit card.

I rubbed my bare arms as the cab grumbled into the distance, leaving the two of us standing alone in the city. "What're we doing here?" I enquired, beginning to shiver. My crop top offered little protection from the frigid air as it brushed against my skin. Luckily my black jeans were a more practical option of clothing, and my boots gave me an extra inch but I still wasn't tall enough to reach Cole's shoulder.

Cole walked over to me, slipping off his leather jacket and handing it to me.

"You sure?" I raised an eyebrow, ready for him to take it back without a second thought. "You don't know me."

"Just take it," Cole chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pocket. I wait for him to draw out another cigarette or joint of weed, but he just walks straight to the bar at the end of the street. "We're here to pick up my bike."

A disappointed "oh" left my lips. This is why my parents had told me never to trust a stranger, but Cole wasn't a stranger. Embarrassed about my outburst, I silently slipped on his coat. Warmth enveloped my, and I inhaled his earthy scent as we walked.

"As in motorbike bike? Or just bicycle bike?"

Cole laughed as we strolled into the street. "Motorbike. Obviously."

Puddles of fresh rainwater littered the cobblestone path as I gazed down at my feet. The street was quiet, with two cafés and a gelateria. Ivy was abundant, weaving up the sides of houses and shops alike in an undecipherable pattern which was invisible to the human eye. Flickering streetlamps ran down the wide pavements at regular intervals, illuminating the area in an orange glow.

"This place is beautiful," I gasped.

Cole smirked. His hand fluttered to the small of my back, guiding me across the narrow road towards the ice cream shop. "Thought you'd like it," he replied curtly. His eyes were almost as luminous as the world around me.

As we neared the ice cream, my stomach rumbling like a clap of thunder. I turned and pulled away from his arm which was still securely placed on my back. "Cole, I don't understand. You don't know me. Why are we even here?"

"Because, chica-" his accent was so perfect. So perfectly perfect. "I want to get to know you. You're the first decent person I've talked to in a while."

My face lit up. A foreign sensation flooded through my body like an unstoppable tsunami, washing away the fear; the anxiety. I hugged his jacket closer to my body, smiling into the black material so he wouldn't see.

"What about your friends?" I murmured, words muffled. If I had spoken any louder, my voice would've shook. My heart was beating so fast, it was difficult to distinguish one thump from the next.

Cole shook his head minutely. The smile that had been permanently displayed on his lips faded. "They're not decent people, Nova. Neither am I."

I elbowed his arm in a bid to lighten the mood. "Don't worry," I sighed. "I'll give you a chance. You seem decent enough to me, aside from the cigarettes."

Cole chuckled at the remark. "It's weed," he replied, pulling us into silence. I didn't have a strong opinion on drugs. People made their own decisions, and I had no reason to influence those choices. Yes, drugs were bad, but it could always be worse. Like Class A drugs (which were exceptionally - exceptionally - bad).

Technically it's legal in Amsterdam, I reminded myself.

The boy waved an arm at the wondrous display of ice cream tubs before my eyes. The pigments were vibrant, and I yearned to taste each and every flavour – except for pistachio. "What do you want?"

"There's an ice cream parlour five minutes away from Ana's house," I uttered, not allowing my frustration to show through my words. I still couldn't believe that one of the most beautiful men on this earth had decided to take me here. Alone. "And I'm a very indecisive person."

Cole's hand brushed against mine as he reached to lean over the counter. He winked at the woman serving us, who scowled in return. "Come on, you must be starving after all that revenge. And this place closes in two minutes."

"I lit a match," I pouted. "Since when did that burn more than two calories?"

It took me a minute to decide, taking in all of the sharp colours and the aroma of lemon stinging my nose. "Can I have a coffee ice cream, please? In a cone."

The woman was quick to scoop out the ice-cold substance, before Cole handed over the correct amount of money and pulled me from the shop.

"Aren't you getting one?" I uttered as I licked the ice cream. It was perfectly chilling against my tongue, the coffee burning my senses. I wanted to stay awake tonight. I needed the caffeine in my system.

"No, because then I wouldn't be able to do this," he smirked, picking up the pace as he began to run down the street.

I gasped as I found myself racing after him. The cider I had previously drunk ran through my veins, soothing my senses. My head pounded at the numbness. "Cole, what the fuck? Wait!"

He had way too much energy. He jumped up onto a bench, before spiralling over it on the other side. Cole didn't slow as we came up to the next turning, meeting a walkway beside the water. Water thumped against the side, spraying into my face and momentarily blinding me as I ran as fast as I could to keep up.

My boots clicked against the metal below my feet, but I didn't hear the constant thumping against the wailing of the wind as it tore at my face; my skin; my hair. The light had disappeared, and the narrow scope of a streetlamp up ahead was the only luminescence available. I tasted salt in my mouth as I opened my lips to gasp for breath. The ice cream in my hand swayed, and with each footfall, it threatened to fall out of my insecure grasp. Yet, I couldn't feel my fingers. They were just as numb as my brain.

"Come on!" Cole shouted back, spiralling on his foot to face me for a millisecond before turning back to his endeavours. My short strides were barely a match for his long ones.

"Slow down!" I yelled, almost screaming out in surprise as a figure shot from the shadows. I dodged around the man as his face distorted into a mask of confusion. "Sorry!"

On any other day, I would never have done anything like this. But the cider had made me more confident that I had ever been before. And, Cole's acceptance made me forget my self-consciousness lurking at the back of mind. I had only spent two hours with him, but one thing was clear: he didn't care about anything. He did what he wanted, and no one told him otherwise. He was the epitome of everything I wished to be, and couldn't be.

I almost sighed when Cole reached a building and stopped. He leant against the marble panelling, barely out of breath.

Surprisingly, my ice cream survived the journey. I licked it as I neared the bad boy to mask my breathlessness.

"Next time you do that, give some warning, yeah?" I inhaled, frantically checking my pockets to make sure my phone and card hadn't fallen out. Much to my relief, my fingers brushed the cold edge of my iPhone. I fought the urge to pull it out and check for messages left by my mum. "Who even are you? Usain Bolt?"

Cole winked. "Close, chica."

"So, you're the Hispanic version of Usain Bolt?" I enquired, still breathless. I wasn't built for running or sport, and I had quit swimming a year ago. I went on the occasional run to keep my figure in check, but even then I only managed three kilometres at a time. "That's fucking great. But that was just my warm up. Wasn't quite going at full pace, you know?"

"Sure," Cole chuckled with narrowed eyes. His pupils had widened, obscuring the fluctuating hazel of his irises.

I narrowed my eyes to match his facial expression. "Just you wait, Colloway. I will kick your arse."

"Is that a challenge?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and licked my ice cream again. "I mean, I'd prefer it if you didn't take me up on it."

My harsh comment caused Cole to laugh even more. "Ok, then. Challenge not accepted." The boy genuinely looked disappointed, but there was no chance in hell I was better than him at anything. Except for, maybe, being a woman. "But I will race you to the top of this building."

"What?" I creased my eyebrows, but Cole was already through the doors of the building in the blink of an eye. I studied the doorway, and the rotting wood of the banisters. Dirt slathered the run-down block of flats, working its way around each wall like urban ivy.

In a hurry, I pushed the door which opened with an excruciating creak. My eyes adjusted to the darkness just in time as I plodded up the first set of stairs, only to be met by another staircase.

Unable to catch up with Cole, I glanced at the ice cream in my hand. Coffee liquid dripped down onto my hand, making it sticky.

"Fuck it," I exhaled, chucking the half-eaten food to the ground.

The stairs were endless. I hadn't had the sense to see how many floors there were, but when I reached the seventh floor, I was ready to give up. However, the thought of being with Cole, and the fact that he wanted to spend time with me, urged me forward.

With each staircase, I became more and more out of breath. Each step felt like I was running a marathon.

After fourteen floors, I reached the top. Sweating and out of breath, I surged through the metal doors that opened onto the top of the building. The night sky greeted me in an abundance of yellow light pollution, and murky blue. Stars pin pricked the sky in bright silver, blemishing the navy. And, silhouetted against the crescent moon, sat a boy with a bottle in his hand.

I smiled to myself. I wasn't going to waste this opportunity as Cole sat serenely, perched right on the edge of the building.

Standing on tip toes, I crept up and pushed the man's warm shoulders before pulling him backwards.

"Fucking hell," Cole gasped. "Nova!"

I giggled like a child being given a brand-new toy. "Heya."

Cole took a sip from the bottle in his hand and patted the wall beside him. "Glad you could join us. And when I say us, I mean me."

Hesitantly, I gazed over the wall. Streets scarred the city scape below me. Tiny figures rushed about the place, unaware of my watching eyes. Bile rose in my throat from the height, wind whistling across the rooftop ominously.

"This is high," I whispered. I stepped up to the edge of the block of run down flats, teetering on the edge. So close to death. Cole had been right; I had never felt so alive, being so close to death. I relished it.

"You afraid of heights?" Cole laughed.

"You're not?" I retorted.

Cole shook his head before presenting me with a bottle. I swung my legs over the edge of the building before taking it.

I read the label, and my heart sank. "I don't like beer."

"Then you're not human," Cole replied. He had already taken the cap off for me, and I gulped down a sip. The bitter substance made me want to gag, but I persisted and swallowed the liquid before I could spit it back up again.

I wiped the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand. "Where'd you even get this?"

"Me and my mates used to come up here." Cole's good mood dulled. I wanted to make him feel better, but I didn't know how. I barely knew Cole. I didn't know his birthday, his favourite colour, his favourite anything. To most, he would be seen as a stranger. To me, he was the ability to be something more than just a friend. But that wasn't a possibility. The hope of a friendship laid between my fingers, and I wasn't going to let this opportunity simply slip away.

I didn't want to point out the 'used to,' but I did it anyway. "Used to?" I questioned.

"Charlie moved to LA, and they're not the kind of people I want to hang with anymore." He kept the answer short, and I didn't press further.

"And so here I am."

Cole bowed his head, downing his beer in a few gulps. "Yep." I heard something new in his voice, but couldn't distinguish between happiness or depression. "I don't know what it is about you. You're different to so many of my old friends. It's a nice change."

Taking another swig of the beer bottle, I pinched my lips into a smile. "I normally lose friends quickly, so this is nice for me too."

"I don't believe you," Cole sounded genuinely surprised. "Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend."

Cole placed his empty bottle behind him and drew out a joint from his pocket. His lighter flickered, drawing harsh shadows onto his face. It made him sharper; more real. The arc of his cheekbone was utterly incomprehensible, and his dark tresses turned a sour blonde from the yellowed light.

"You're kidding, right?" I laughed.

Cole kept his face straight, but the façade cracked within seconds. He smiled.

"You'd be a shit actor," I commented. "But ok then. Since I basically know zero about you, let's start with the basics. Favourite colour?"

"Red," Cole replied hastily. It explained the rose painted on the back of his leather jacket, and the bracelet encircling his right wrist. In the darkness, I couldn't make out the words, but it must've been from a festival. "You?"

"Blue," I answered. "Fav film?"

"Hmm," Cole gazed into the stars, thinking. It was as though I could see the cogs whirring away in his brain. For someone who barely attended school, he seemed to know more than he let on. "The Shawshank Redemption."

"That's a good film," I murmured. I had barely managed to drink a third of my beer, but it wasn't mixing well with my cider from earlier. Without speaking, I handed it to Cole who took it gratefully. "I was always more of a Forrest Gump kind of girl."

At this, Cole was back to smiling. "Fine, my turn. Favourite artist?"

"Shit," I inhaled. My mind had gone into a frenzy. Music had always been a huge part of my life, and choosing one artist was like giving up chocolate for Lent. It was sacrilege. "You cannot ask me that!"

"I'm waiting for an answer, Nova," Cole said with fake impatience.

"Ok, ok," I raised my hands, as if to surrender. "I love The Arctic Monkeys. And Bastille."

"Going British are we?" Cole held my eye contact and winked. I could feel my forehead sweating once more. Staring made me queasy, but with Cole it was different. He didn't seem to mind that I looked like I had crawled from a grave prior to the party.

I punched his arm lightly, only to be met by a bulk of muscle. "Hey, I'm an eight British. You got something against that?"

"I think it's hot."

"I don't even have a British accent," I stated with slatted eyes. "How is that 'hot?'"

Cole made a hissing sound. "You got me there," he groaned. "But I still think it's cute."

Then, we plunged into silence. I didn't know how to answer, and that was the reason why I hadn't had the same best friend since I was six. Awkwardness was my speciality, and my personality usually clashed with those around me.

"If you don't mind me asking," I finally spoke, shattering the silence like a hammer through glass, "And I know you won't want to talk about it, but what happened with you and Ana?"

As expected, Cole's cheerful mood dissipated. "It's fine. I need to talk to someone about it." He ran both hands through his hair, fisting the tufts. "I didn't treat her the way I should," Cole sighed into his palm and swallowed an invisible lump stuck in his throat. "I've had a lot to deal with recently. Which is why she cheated on me."

"I'm sorry," I murmured. The hurt in his eyes was blatant. "I'm here to listen if I need to."

Cole shook his head. His eyes glinted with water like fragmented crystals. But he still managed to smile, and blinked away his growing sadness. "It's fine. The people I hang with don't want to listen, and sometimes I need to talk, you know?"

I scratched my arm through Cole's jacket. It moulded to my body perfectly, despite the fact it was way too big. "I know. But at least you're living life, right? I've never had a serious relationship, unless you count a relationship that lasted one day in reception.

"And I was named after a guy who wrote about his sexual experiences."

This caught Cole's attention. "What? Nova isn't your full name?"

"No, Nicole," I laughed, jumping up from where I had been sitting for the past five minutes. My stomach churned as I lost my balance, but was quick to regain it as I fell onto the rooftop. "My full name's Casanova. Casanova Serena Blake."

"It's pretty." Cole commented.

I rolled my eyes. "It's horrible."

"I like it," Cole uttered. The words slid so easily from his lips, as though it was natural. He had been known to flirt with most of the girls at school. Being flirtatious was part of his personality, and I had to be careful not to fall too far into his trap.

But I think I had already fallen too far to climb back out.

"And, to answer your question earlier, I wouldn't call this living," Cole said. He pushed himself up from the floor and followed me to the centre of the rooftop. I stretched out my hands, and felt the wind wrap around my fingers. The polluted air smelt like car engines, but the stench wasn't as strong this high up. I could see why Cole liked this place so much. It was so... isolated. "This isn't how I want to live my life. I want to travel the world, and see something other than my bedroom walls and this city. I don't want to be stuck in education any more, but I don't have enough – or any – money to do anything. I want to live, and I can't do that here."

Stunned, I don't know how to reply. I glanced at the night sky, and then the city. My body felt like it was attached to a million live wires, with thousands of volts being pumped through my body. How could he not feel alive?

"I know it's strange, but-"

"It's not strange," I interjected. "Just tell me, what's the thing that makes you feel most alive?"

The real Cole – the confident, fearless Cole that I barely knew – reappeared as his eyes lit up like a meteorite scarring the night sky. "You'll find out in exactly twenty two minutes."

. • . ☆ . • .

WE HEADED TO the outskirts of the city, making small talk as Cole lead the way. The streets here were empty, with no cafés in sight, and the occasional closed newsagent. Weeds grew through the cracks in the pavement, shimmering emerald amongst the dilapidated grey. The air here was more inviting, but the scent of rotting food hit my nose whenever we neared yet another winding alleyway. Litter was scattered across the tarmac, fluttering to and fro in the midnight zephyr.

Finally, after half an hour of walking, and discovering that Cole was in fact half Spanish with a fully Spanish mother, we reached a garage which still had the blue neon light outside the window blazing. I blinked rapidly to stop the concentrated light hurting my eyes, but it did nothing to subside the visual agony.

"How is this open?" I muttered under my breath as Cole twisted the handle of the white door, and pushed it open. I took my phone from my pocket to check the time, only to see seven messages and three missed calls.

Mum @ 10:03 pm - hi Cassie when r u getting back? xxx

Mum @ 10:06 pm - pls reply bby xx

Missed call from 'Mama' @ 10:07 pm

Missed called from 'Banana' @ 10:38 pm

Kaya @ 10:45 pm – heya where r you? ur mums worried and I cant find you anywhere xxxxxxxxxxx

Kaya @ 10:57 pm – hellooooooo???

Missed call from 'Banana' @ 10:59 pm

Kaya @ 11:13 pm – I heard some1 say you left with Cole CC? Wtf gal?!! thts so exciting!! Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kaya @ 11:13 pm - *C

Kaya @ 11:18 pm – fine jus ignore me than

"Shit," I murmured, going through the messages. I hadn't realised Kaya would even wake up after the amount of alcohol she had consumed. But I didn't have time to thumb a quick reply as Cole pulled me through the open doorway, and into the workshop.

"Hey!" I whispered, glancing around to see no one in the vicinity. "Isn't this called 'breaking in'? I don't know about you, but last time I checked, I'm pretty sure this was illegal."

Cole reached out, brushing his finger agaist my cheek to push the loose hair from my eyes. "You are genuinely adorable."

My skin tingled where he touched it, but I was quick to forget the sensation as I slapped his hand off my face. "Pervert," I commented sourly. Once again, my hands were folded against my chest as we stood in the room that smelt like stale bread. Metallic objects laid on multiple work benches, with a dismantled car gathering dust in the far-right corner of the extensive room. Tools were everywhere, reflecting the flickering light from above my head in a pleasant glow. Two cars were suspended, their undersides exposed and half worked on. I creased my brow, discombobulated. "Am I missing something?"

Cole's melodic chuckle echoed across the cement. "I work here, Casanova."

That did it. So I kicked him in the shin. "Do not call me that," I moaned, which subsided to laughter when Cole playfully punched me back. "I'm a woman, not a fucking punch bag, Cole."

"Thought you liked it rough," Cole replied with a sly wink. His eyelashes were longer than mine, and enough to put a supermodel to shame.

We walked straight past the two cars in for repair, and Cole swiftly grabbed the corner of some sort of fabric, pulling it cleanly off the object beneath. Unlike everything else in the workshop, the sheet was clean and free of stains. The motorcycle concealed below it, was more so. It had been polished until I could see my reflection in the metal components, distorting my face into irregular shapes. The black body of the machine had been recently repainted, without the sign of a scratch or dent. It smelt of oil and fuel, and adrenaline. I traced my fingers down the leather seat, my fingertips relishing the softness.

I gasped at the beautiful machine, lips puckering open. "This is yours?" I asked.

Cole nodded with pride. "My dad couldn't afford a car, so he bought a bike and I, well, look after it when he's away on business."

"He's away on business a lot," Cole continued after a pause.

I pouted my lips, only to be interrupted by Cole throwing something at me. I caught the object, and almost threw up when I noticed what it was: a helmet.

"I'm not getting on that thing," I clarified, pointing to the vehicle. Yes, it was in perfect condition, but I was petrified of everything with two wheels. My previous confidence had dissipated like memories torn from a baby by time. The effect of the alcohol I had had was wearing off, and I hated the girl I had become. "But it is incredible."

The man before me placed his own black helmet on his head and walked over to press a button. With an electronic whirr, the garage opened, revealing the endless road ahead of us.

"Thank you," Cole beamed as he stalked over and sat on the seat of the motorcycle. He jolted his head for me to join him. "Come on," he reiterated. "I'm not going to kill you."

I wanted to throw up. The world spun before me, and my eyes could not focus. I had never been on a bike before, let alone a motorbike. But the slight chance that I might enjoy myself was enough to make my legs move. My mind blank, I hoisted myself onto the seat behind Cole and rested my hands around his waist. Even through his t-shirt, I could feel the toned muscles beneath.

"You already tried that," I said directly into his ear. A nervous laugh escaped my mouth as I clipped my helmet into place. It was too big, but it was still better than nothing.

"It wasn't a bomb."

"It could've been, thank you very much. I had every right to be worried."

"You worried about this?" Cole chuckled. I couldn't see his face, but I was ninety nine percent certain he was smirking. He clicked the key into the ignition, and turned on the engine. The motorbike purred to life, each vibration from the engine rattling through my bones until they felt hollow.

I clutched my arms around Cole's waist even tighter. "No," I lied.

Over the roar of the engine, I heard him laugh. "Hold on, Cas."

"Stop i-" My words turned into a wail as the bike shot forwards into the nightscape, and landed in oblivion.

. • . ☆ . • .

hehe late update but i'm very happy with this chapter, and hope you all enjoyed it!! cole's a softie at heart, and i love him more than ben and jerry's ice cream. i really hope you guys do too <3

the next chapters get slightly darker, but we're already 3/8 through the book! plus i've finished chapter four, which i'll hopefully be publishing for my 4k celebration.

thank you for reading <33

lotte xx