White (The Wings Trilogy Book 1)

by Angelina J. Steffort

  Not yet, I told myself. I still had hours of work ahead of me. When they were over, I was sure I could find another distraction, and another.

  Phase one was still fully active—I denied what had happened the day before with every fiber of my being. I flinched and quickly denied the fact that I was denying it.

  My cell rang on the bedside table.

  “Hi Greg,” I answered the call.

  “Hi Claire,” Gregory’s cheery voice sounded in the loudspeaker.

  “What’s up, Greg?”

  “What are you doing on a sunny day like this?” he asked innocently.

  “Uhm, nothing special. Just history at the moment.”

  “Need any help with that?” He sounded hopeful.

  “Not today. Thanks Greg.” I tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Let me know when you need me, and I’ll be there.” I heard more than one meaning in his statement and suddenly phase one—denial—turned into phase two—anger.

  I was sick of myself and the world. I needed a clear head. Who cared if Adam loved me if he didn’t want me close, if he preferred I didn’t love him. If he didn’t want me—fine. Plenty of others were waiting in the line—or at least one.

  “Greg, I changed my mind,” I said in reaction to my thoughts.

  “About what—history?” He was joking. But I was damn serious, at least for the moment. I wanted to drown the fact that Adam had sent me away. He couldn’t care about me if he could do a thing like that. I couldn’t have done so in his place.

  “No Greg,” I couldn’t believe the words were actually leaving my mouth, “—about our date.” Dammit, why did I always have to blurt everything out? Didn’t I have any self-control at all?

  A long silence followed my words. Neither Greg nor I spoke, though I heard him breathe at the other end of the line.

  “You sure?” His voice was hesitant. I nodded to myself.

  “Sure.” It was all I dared to say, fearing my pretenses would break down if I spoke another syllable.

  “Great…” Joy vibrated in his voice as he spoke, “I mean…” He cleared his throat and continued in a hoarse voice. “When?”

  I hated myself for doing this, but it was all I could think of to survive Adam’s absence. I needed Greg, he was my best friend. I knew that this date would mean something completely different to him than it meant to me, but against all the false promises made to Gregory I couldn’t prevent myself from doing it.

  I already feared the moment I would regret my decision—and I was one hundred percent sure I’d regret it. The words flowed out too natural and sweet for my taste. “If you still want to go to the movies, Friday evening would be perfect.”

  Gregory’s reaction was exuberant, and predictable. He told me like a million times he was looking forward to school the next day, because it would make the week speed up a little and Friday wouldn’t be far off.

  I hung up after assuring him nearly as many times that I was looking forward to Friday as well—and I was. Movies with Greg on Friday would mean I would have survived another five days tortured by my aching heart. I was good at banning bad memories—I had had a lot of practice in my past, and I was willing to do whatever it took to revolt against the indescribable feeling of loss that threatened to burst my chest from within.

  It was too early to sleep when I crawled under the blanket and curled up in a ball. History had kept me busy most of the afternoon and a bit of the evening. Nigel was out, hunting mice or whatever would dare to come out at night during the winter. I wasn’t tired enough to switch off the light, so I looked at my bookshelf. My eyes fell on an old leather binding that stood in the first row on the left.

  It had a certain draw on me and I got back on my feet to get it. It was as beautiful as the first time I had seen it. I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t read it yet—probably because I had spent all my free time with Adam then.

  It was William Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. The book in my hands, I nestled back into the comfortable warmth of the bed. I hadn’t read Shakespeare in ages, I couldn’t remember the story in detail anymore. Turning the book in my hands several times and stroking the fine leather once or twice, I felt I wanted to read it. I could remember Lyssander and Demetrius, two men who were in love with the beautiful Hermia. I soon was engrossed in the story. It was a nice play—confusing, but nice. I tended to sympathize with Helena quite quickly as she couldn’t get her Demetrius. I thought I could understand what was going on in her mind.

  As I lay the book aside an hour later I was sure I would be able to sleep—at last. My thoughts were pretty much focused on Hermia’s and Helena’s love-triangle, more than on the problems of my reality.

  * * *

  On Friday morning it was a little warmer than the days before, although there was a fine drizzle fogging the air. I wore my favorite jeans, a gray blouse and an emerald sweater. My face was paler than usual—I assumed that this was the after-effect of my traumatic weekend.

  I picked up Lydia on the way to school as usual. She grinned at me widely and I couldn’t keep myself from grimacing at her happiness. Trying to hide the expression on my face, I dug my chin more deeply into the purple scarf which was slung around my neck.

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” I finally asked with a guilty conscience. It wasn’t her fault Adam had turned me down.

  She threw me a meaningful look. “Richard wants to introduced me to his parents.” She giggled hysterically. I didn’t know Lydia stoked like that. Usually she had a quiet nature, but this seemed to mean a lot to her.

  “I’m sure it will be alright.” I reassured her.

  “Alright? I do hope so.” She squeaked, and eyed me suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?” Her gaze was penetrating. It wasn’t easy to pretend with Lydia around. She knew me quite well.

  “Just the same as always.” I tried not to give any signs of depression.

  “Still whining about Adam then,” she said in a half sympathetic half disapproving tone. I flinched at his name. “Claire, you cannot go on like this forever. How long were you together? A month?”

  “One-and-a-half.” I corrected sourly.

  “He turned you down—remember? Time to move on!” I could hardly believe hearing these words from Lydia’s mouth. She had no idea…

  “You’ve been weeping for him for nearly as long.” She added with a sideways glance at me. It stung, the way she made it sound like I was clinging to him on purpose. Like I had a choice. The way I felt for him was irrational, I knew that, but still, I couldn’t help it; this angel had changed my life and there was no going back to normal. All the things I had felt in those almost six weeks—I would have gone through hell to have them back again.

  I didn’t want to argue with Lydia so I held my tongue and nodded, agreeing at least to the numbers when I couldn’t agree to what she asked from me. She seemed to take it as a flash of insight and smiled happily at the work she had done.

  The traffic became heavier the nearer we got to school. I searched the parking lot for an empty spot and had to circle a few times before I found one on the far east end of the lot. Lydia got out of the car with her wide grin back on her face. I followed her to the gym. I was looking forward to this class, it kept my body busy and cleared my head of unwanted thoughts.

  Amber met us at the corner and fell into step. She also had a story to tell. “…and I will be Snow White.” I hadn’t given her my full attention.

  “Sorry, what?” I had to ask.

  “The drama group is doing fairy tales next semester. We picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and I will be Snow White—" She just had gotten the news. She looked nearly as happy as Lydia did with her upcoming Richard-and-Richard’s-parents experience.

  “Congratulations,” I complimented her, “I know you deserve it.” My words weren’t convincing.

  “What’s up with her?” Amber asked Lydia in a hushed voice. I pretended not to hear her and strolled into the changing room.<
br />
  PE was okay like always, but with my now clear head I started to fear the first encounter with Gregory that day. He had been tailing me the whole week, embarrassing me with his over-enthusiasm at my every word. So far nobody knew that we were going out this evening.

  It didn’t take too long until this encounter took place. It was only a short time before lunch when he sprinted down the corridor with his books under his arms, obviously aiming for me.

  “Hey Claire,” he greeted me with suspicious enthusiasm. I noticed again how much more adult he looked. His face had lost all its childlike roundness over the past months, and his love for athletic sports had made his body brawny. Two girls giggled as they passed us.

  “Hi.” My voice was hoarse and shaky.

  “Everything alright?” Gregory asked with his usual kindness.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” I wasn’t any more convincing than I had been with Amber.

  “Sure?”

  “I’m good, Greg,” I noticed that I was easily irritated. “Let’s go.”

  We headed for the cafeteria together. He bounced up and down like a child at Christmas and whistled all the way down. From time to time he glanced sideways at me. I started wondering if I was the reason for his good mood and suddenly became very self-conscious. We found a table in the middle of the cafeteria and Lydia and Amber joined us for lunch.

  “You know Greg, the motto for prom is great,” Amber cooed at him. Greg couldn’t help but smile, pleased with himself. I grinned to myself. Amber and Greg would have been a gorgeous couple if they had only fallen in love. I somehow expected Greg to someday see how extraordinarily beautiful Amber was. Without a doubt Gregory was one of the best-looking guys at school, and relatively grown up in his overall behaviour. Again I lost track of the conversation, drawing back into my own little world, where winged creatures and shadowy demons no longer belonged to fairy tales.

  * * *

  “I’ll pick you up at eight,” Gregory called before he shut the door of his car. I wished he wouldn’t be so open about our so-called date—I shivered at the thought. We had agreed to keep quiet about the fact that we were going to the movies tonight. I was hoping to spare myself awkward questions from Amber and Lydia. But now it was too late; both of them were standing next to me with disbelieving faces.

  “How could you keep this a secret?” Amber dropped her jaw.

  I had also hoped—if only for a moment—that he had forgotten about the date, but of course he hadn’t. His timing was perfect when he reminded me in front of a bunch of people, including Amber and Lydia, who were now throwing questions at me at top speed.

  “I told you, it’s nothing special—just movies.”

  “Richard and I started out at the movies,” Lydia pointed out with an approving nod, Amber backing up her every word.

  “I knew it would only be a matter of time until you got over this graveyard freak and found someone new.”

  “He’s not a freak!” I argued, hurt. I knew she still thought I was better off without Adam; but she was so wrong. My better judgement kept me from scratching her eyes out for being so hard and unfair.

  “Whatever—Greg’s great, though. I think he really likes you. He’s been trying to show you all year now, but as you had that other guy,” Ouch! “he pretended not to care for a while.”

  Caught up in my own thoughts, I was barely listening to her. “…but now that you’re alone again, I think he sees more of a chance.”

  The ride home was annoying. I dropped Lydia off at her house, happy that I would have a few hours to myself. I started to do the laundry without much enthusiasm, but glad to keep my hands busy.

  It was seven o’clock in the evening. I was tired and pissed off by the way everybody seemed to accept that Adam was out of my life. They didn’t know the latest news, however; still, I was sure if I told them they would only more persistently try to get me to move on. They wouldn’t understand—not even Lydia, who usually was empathetic and wise for her age seemed to understand the intensity of the relationship Adam and I had shared—or of what it had left behind.

  I started to feel more schizophrenic with every minute I spent thinking of him. A part of me held on to him, in fear of drowning in darkness as soon as I let go. The other part kept me challenging my luck and powering myself up for the revolt.

  Whatever part won momentarily, I didn’t feel whole either way—I was positive I wouldn’t ever again, because a piece of me had shattered on the way from the Gallagers’ place on Saturday, a piece I hadn’t been missing much, but which grew more and more important the longer I was away from him—the piece that had trusted in his love for me.

  Right now the clinging part seemed to be stronger than ever, but I wasn’t sure if a few hours later I wouldn’t be all revolting yet again. I tended to think I’d be angry, thinking of how far I’d driven myself in the attempt to drown my loss of Adam with Gregory’s company.

  I lay down on my bed and tried to sleep in order to tune out the struggling voices in my head. Without success—they only grew more pronounced and my dilemma more prominent. Deciding that I wouldn’t find any peace of mind that way, I decided to go to the living room and switch on the TV. I zapped through the channels until I found a quiz-show. The questions were easy right now and so I stayed with the show in an attempt to stay distracted.

  Five minutes to eight I decided to repack my things–just the necessary few—into a nicer purse. The bell rang, and I slid into my jacket and hurried down the stairs—not bothering to have a look in the mirror as I flitted past it. Greg was waiting outside with sparkling eyes and an almost boyish grin on his face.

  “My lady,” he bowed to me and I—unwillingly—had to smile. “The horses are harnessed and waiting to take us to any place of your choice.”

  “Shut up, Greg.” I chuckled.

  The Date

  I closed the door after putting Nigel out and locked it. The cat rubbed his side on Gregory’s legs for a second and trotted away into the darkness.

  Inside Greg’s car it was cozy and warm. For a moment I considered to change the place for the date into his car but quickly shoved the thought aside, knowing that this would mean inevitable kissing attempts from Gregory’s side and a lot of frustration for both of us. I was planning to keep the date as casual as possible not wanting to get his hopes up too much.

  My split mood returned again. It lasted all the way to the movies and I didn’t speak too much.

  “What do you want to see?” Gregory asked with honest interest.

  “Uhm—whatever you’d like to see.” This made his permanent smile vanish for a second, but when I glanced at him a second time it was already back in place.

  “Are you in the mood for action or romance or comedy?”

  “I don’t care.” It wasn’t too polite, but Greg knew me very well and he would have known when I had forced happiness into my words and features. “You decide.”

  Gregory politely kept his distance as the lights went out in the theatre and the movie started. I was glad he did. I was surprised he didn’t try to take my hand or put his arm around me. It was very much like a friendship-date actually—like the many times we had hung out before.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as we walked from the movie theatre. I realized I was and nodded eagerly. Gregory smiled at me. “Me too,” he agreed and led me to a nearby restaurant.

  The interior was shockingly posh. Too much for my taste, but Gregory seemed perfectly at ease as the waiter eyed us for a brief second and walked over at a moderate pace.

  “Good evening, Mr. Milton-Davis.” I had to cough as he addressed Gregory by his surname. Surely, Gregory came here more frequently. Obviously. Gregory liked expensive things. He was simply used to it, as his parents owned a house resembling half a palace and had inherited a small empire of companies in the recycling industry from his mother’s father. I had always wondered why they hadn’t moved to a more interesting place than Aurora.

  “A table fo
r two?”

  “Yes please,” Gregory replied. The waiter led us to a table in the left part of the room. It was broad and covered with a dark red satin table cloth.

  “I’m pretty sure I can’t afford this,” I whispered into Gregory’s ear as we followed the waiter.

  “Don’t worry—my treat.” He chuckled at my horrified expression. “This is our first date in the sense of date—I want to do it right.”

  The waiter held the chair for me and took my jacket. I sat down uncomfortably, with my back to the room and my eyes on my hands.

  “Greg—” I tried, “This is technically not a date…”

  “I already guessed as much.” I felt his eyes on me and lifted my gaze to measure his expression—it was relaxed, content, joyous.

  The waiter set a bottle of water and two glasses onto the table. Gregory ordered something to eat.

  “Don’t you care at all?”

  “About what?” He looked up from his dinner to throw me a questioning look.

  “That I don’t see this as a real date?”

  “No.” It was a simple statement. His indifference was strangely annoying.

  “But—” A moment of silence passed while I searched for words.

  “But what, Claire?” He looked at me intensely. “Don’t you realize I know you still love him? Don’t you think I wish it wasn’t like that.”

  My head sunk to my chest in shame. Was it that obvious? “But—I thought you—”

  “Yes I do!” he interrupted, his apparent anger suppressed into a hush.

  “Oh.”

  I swallowed the broccoli in my mouth in one piece. If he meant what I thought he meant—what I had wanted to suggest—he had just told me he loved me.

  “Claire,” the brows in his young face furrowed and made him look a lot older. “I don’t care who you love—as long as I get a chance.” I was literally shocked by his openness. “This might be the best chance I get,” he chuckled sardonically. “Who knows how long I have until you change your mind and never go out with me again?”