Missed Calls
It doesn’t go past Chocho when Sarada returns to the dorm and makes a point to slam the door hard enough to make the walls vibrate. The two girls share an apartment, but due to vastly different schedules, only see each other during lunch breaks on campus most of the time. They make a point to go out for breakfast on Sundays together.
She peeks outside the living room when Sarada comes around the corner, her foul mood radiating off her in dark waves.
“You just had to tell Shikadai, didn’t you,” Sarada accuses her. “You were just happy to gossip with him about stuff you’re not supposed to say anything about.”
Chocho has the decency to look sorry at least. “I take it Boruto got angry at you?”
“’Angry’ is an understatement,” Sarada says, shaking and close to tears. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take for him to forgive me, if at all.”
“Now this is weird, isn’t it?” When Sarada is about to say something again, Chocho just continues. “Listen, girl, you agreed to date him for four weeks, right? You also admitted to knowing that he loves you – yes, loves you! – and you accepted his proposal anyway, knowing full well you are going to hurt him. So don’t come to me right now because Boruto is hurt because of something you did.
“So, unless you plan to continue dating him by the end of this mess, you will hurt him anyway. So I don’t really understand why you are so mad now.” Chocho finishes her rant with a triumphant smile.
“I’m mad because this hurt is unnecessary. You shouldn’t have told him about it, period. We could have enjoyed our four weeks and that would have been it. We could have parted ways without drama.”
Chocho’s eyebrows grow higher and higher the more Sarada speaks. “Tell me you don’t really believe Boruto could’ve just let you go in the end? Have you taken one good look at him? He’s like…a puppy. He’d follow you anywhere.”
She is well aware this is the truth her friend doesn’t want to hear. Chocho is Sarada’s best friend and has been her best friend for a long time. Sarada has been in hardcore denial about Boruto for too long and Chocho is tired of her friend denying herself, just because accepting the truth may be ‘uncomfortable’.
Sarada’s eyes fill up with guilt as her words start to sink in and she averts her gaze to the ground. “No, I don’t really believe that.”
“Finally! Good! Some progress is long overdue. So,” Chocho says, stepping up and pulling her friend into a hug, “How about this? You start by trying to be honest to me. Why did you kiss him after your last date? I’ve been dying to know.”
Sarada sniffles, then smiles. “Well, he kissed me first. On the cheek. And…,” when Chocho’s eyes widen in anticipation, Sarada continues, “And it just felt nice.”
“Nice?”
“Nice.”
“That’s all it made you feel? Nice?”
Sarada’s face lights up with a red blush that can rival a tomato, but Chocho doesn’t comment on it.
“Well, I guess it felt better than just ‘nice’.”
“So you kissed him because it made you feel hot?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Girl, you have to tell him. Such a confession will turn things around, trust me.”
Sarada takes a step away, so Chocho puts both her hands on her hips.
“I’m not sure he’s ready to talk to me again. I just – I really hurt him last time,” she whispers.
“Call him. Let him know.”
When his phone starts vibrating, Boruto doesn’t bother to look at it. He’s in his room, with a paper due and a cup of black coffee next to his laptop. He needs to concentrate. Besides, since his fight with Sarada, he hasn’t been in the mood to talk to anyone. Even Inojin and Shikadai have stayed out of his way since he returned home.
The two of them are probably still gossiping in the shared kitchen, though.
His phone starts vibrating for the third and time and now he assumes that whoever is calling him must talk to him. An emergency, perhaps?
He searches for his phone on in the layers of his bedsheets where he left it, but it stops ringing before he can reach it. Once in his hand, he pulls it out and stares at the screen.
3 missed calls from: Sarada
His first thought is to call her back immediately, the second one tells him to ignore her after what she said earlier at school.
The kiss hasn’t been anything special, you idiot. Of course it wasn’t. He’s Boruto and she’s Sarada, it’s the way things have always been. And hasn’t Shikadai been right about that from the very start?
However, he’s not an asshole, not to her. And even if they’re fighting and his chest still hurts from what she said to him, she may as well be calling about an emergency.
So his third thought is to call her back. As he lies down, her voice comes muffled through the speaker of his phone with a clicking sound.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, you called me.”
After a beat of silence she says, “I didn’t think you’d call me back.”
“Well, I did. So what do you want?” His voice sounds harsh, even to him, but he cannot allow himself to be any softer around her.
“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you. About what happened.”
“Yeah, how about we don’t.”
“I just wanted to call and ask about the rest of our four weeks…Do you want to drop everything?”
Do you want to drop everything?
Does he? He still feels her lips on his, he can still taste her. He doesn’t want to tell her this, however. He remains silent. Sarada continues.
“Because, you see, I want apologize. It’s why I originally called. What I said to you was cruel and it was untrue as well.”
Boruto, previously lying down on his bed, now sits up, body tense.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you – or Chocho for that matter – but the way she confronted me and then you later at school, I don’t know, I guess I panicked.
“I liked kissing you. I mean, I’m the one who started it, right? So yeah, I’m apologizing for lying to you about this. I should have been more honest.” She ends her confession with a shaky sigh.
Silence. Then a smile so smug it should have been forbidden slowly spreads across his cheeks.
“You liked kissing me, huh?”
“I am not going to repeat myself about this, Boruto,” she reminds him and he imagines her vividly with flushed cheeks and a pout on her lips.
“You enjoyed it.”
His ego puffs up like a peacock. This changes things, of course, and his sullen mood dissipates like hot air. Suddenly, he cannot stop thinking about this week. About their date.
“So, when do you have time to go out again this week? I’ve come to realize I have a lot of free time on my hands – for the right kind of person,” he drawls.
With the negative tension between them gone and exchanged for something better, Sarada finally laughs. “How about Friday? I have homework due and I’d like to savor the time until then.”
“Friday sounds good to me. Will you sit with me for lunch tomorrow?” Boruto asks, hoping she’ll say yes.
“And this time alone maybe?” Sarada suggests.
It’s his turn now to blush, he cannot help himself. That she’d suggest being alone with him shouldn’t surprise him considering she called him to make up and have another date, but it still causes him to feel dizzy, like his head is wrapped in cotton.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
Sarada tells Chocho as soon as her phone call ended that she and Boruto had made up. For the rest of the week, everything is back to normal, if you consider Boruto and her kissing around school normal, too.
The first time it happens, they sit at lunch together and he joins them and like it’s nothing new to him, leans in to capture her lips in a quick kiss. Boruto doesn’t linger, she suspects it’s because he doesn’t want to give their friends anything to gawk at.
She silently wishes he would.
They walk around campus, holding hands now more comfortably than she would have ever thought it could be, and he makes sure to kiss her every time they part. Even if Sarada’s mind is occupied at all times with homework, group projects and Boruto, darker thoughts float around, too.
The second week is almost over, she’d have this week’s date with Boruto later this evening, which means that only two more weeks are left. The deadline is like a knife hovering over her head at all times, she tries to ignore it.
It’s better to concentrate on what is now rather than what will happen in two weeks.
At home she slips into a short black dress, one she bought last year, but hasn’t had the chance to wear yet.
It’s a long sleeve, with a deep v-cut to her décolletage and black tights, a pair of black high heels on her feet.
The only thing Boruto told her about the restaurant they will go to is ‘fancy’, so she has to look fancy, too.
A light grey wool coat completes her outfit and she makes sure to use some perfume on her way out.
In front of her house, waiting in front of his car, is Boruto. His hair is as untidy and rebellious as always, but today he looks sharp. When she comes out, his eyes shoot up and focus on her for a while before roaming down her legs and back up to her face.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers as Sarada steps up to him. “But I didn’t expect anything else. Know you too well I guess,” he adds with a sly grin.
“You’re one to talk. You’re wearing a suit, all black. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed this fancily.” She laughs at the face he makes when she mentions the suit. He’s not a fan of formal wear.
Anything for Sarada though.
They lean in for a kiss, not the quick kind they shared at school, but the softer kind, with flushed cheeks, red mouths and hot breath, before getting into the car. Soft music accompanies them as they drive to their destination, Sarada has plenty of time to stare at Boruto luckily. She studies his face, more than she ever has before; his eyes despite their color are bright and still warm, he has a broad nose, fitting for his face. He looks sun kissed, his blond hair tousled and wild.
“What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”
Sarada bites her lip and looks outside the window, he can’t see the blush creeping up her cheeks from this angle. Her obvious embarrassment amuses him.
“You know, you can look at me as much as you want to. I don’t mind.”
“I haven’t been staring at you.”
“Whatever you say,” Boruto says before lowering his voice. “But I still like it.”
“I have not been staring at you,” she replies with ease, but a smile on her lips gives her away. He gives her hand a squeeze before parking the car.
The restaurant turns out to be Mediterranean, Sarada doesn’t mind. The food is delicious, but neither of them pay it a lot of attention. Most of their time is spent looking at each other. Since she doesn’t have to drive on their way home, Sarada is drinking a glass of red wine while Boruto has water.
“The bruschetta is to die for. So fresh,” she mumbles, swallowing another bite.
“I’m happy you like it.”
The look he gives her is even more meaningful than his words: I want to make you happy.
“Here,” she tells him, picks up a piece of bruschetta and holds it up. “Have a try.” It has the effect on him she wanted it to have: his eyes bulge, his mouth falls open and his hands sink down onto the table.
His shock doesn’t last long before he lowers his mouth on her fingers and Sarada pushes the food inside his mouth, his lips press against her skin. There is tomato juice on her hands, he catches it with his mouth before sitting up again, his eyes hot with desire for her.
Sarada cannot look away; his eyes demand her attention.
In the end, they have to leave the restaurant earlier than anticipated, both of them more than willing to go back home to be able to kiss without strangers’ eyes on them.
As soon as Boruto sits down behind the wheel, Sarada turns his head towards her and brings her mouth on his, lips pushing against each other, making each other dizzy. They break the kiss to come for air and Boruto starts the engine, driving home a tad faster than he should if he would have wanted to appear cool and collected.
“I didn’t know you were this…demanding,” he begins to explain, knowing well enough Sarada is still watching him. “Or maybe it’s just the glass of red wine you had,” he adds with a smirk.
“It was only one glass. I think you’re giving yourself too little credit.” She leans up against him, her chest pushing against his arm – he tries to ignore that.
He fails at it.
“You wanted me to be honest, right? Well, I am honest now,” Sarada whispers and begins to kiss his neck, Boruto stares at the road ahead as if his eyes are made of glue.
“I can’t help myself right now, not with you in this suit.” Her pale hand roams over his chest and Boruto catches his breath. His attention cannot waver while driving.
“Sarada…” His voice is darker than usual, lust glazing over his mind in a sugary overload. He hits the gas pedal harder than he really should, and they arrive at her home in a record speed. At home, all the lights are out, it suggests Chocho already went to bed – or is secretly waiting for her friend to return home to drill her with questions.
Boruto’s mind takes a sharp turn when Sarada opens the door of the car to go home, he stops her by grabbing wrist, not in an aggressive manner, though.
“I’m sorry, Sarada, but I don’t think I can come upstairs with you today.” He swallows as the temperature in the car noticeably cools down, not just figuratively. The mood change comes down like a wall of ice.
She stares at him, trying to read him to find out what she possibly could have done to bring on his change of mood.
“Oh…okay.” It’s obvious Sarada is taken aback by his decision. “Did I do something…?”
“Oh, no, it’s not you. I know this is a cliché to say, but really, it wasn’t you. At all. This is on me,” he explains, now nervous because he cannot read her properly to understand how badly he just fucked up.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything and just gone upstairs with her.
“No, it’s okay. If you change your mind, you change your mind and I don’t hold it up against you,” she answers, with a smile. Boruto knows she means it, she is a genuinely good person, however her hands are shaking as she finally gets up from the car.
He doesn’t ask for a kiss before he takes off, only making sure to stay long enough until she disappears into her house.
And would you look at that, the moment the door closes, another light upstairs comes on. Chocho getting up to be nosy.
And won’t Sarada just have a big story to tell her friend.