I shook my head quickly. No, I didn’t mind. Not even a little. Seeing this side of Eric made me feel so innocent, like our relationship was brand new. Young. Alive. And it should feel that way. We may have been married in a past life, but in this one our relationship hadn’t even reached eight months yet.
A glowing grin spread across my face, and Eric matched my smile. It was the books. This change in him was because of our deal with Julie.
“I think you’re gonna need another fork,” he teased.
Startled, I glanced down. It seemed I’d dropped it at some point. He snatched it from the floor with a laugh and tossed it in the dirty dish return before getting me a fresh one. He guided me in my dreamy state back to the table with his arm around my shoulders.
I sat, looking dazedly up at him. He bent over me and held the fork just out between us. “Now, ma’am,” he began in a gruff voice. “This is your last fork. Respect the fork, or you’ll be limited to spooning only. Got it?”
I tried to manage a serious face to match his, but Bailey was already ripping into a fit of giggles. A hard laugh burst through my mask as I accepted the fork.
“You,” he said, pointing at Bailey. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to play along coolly. “Keep an eye on this one.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, throwing her hand up in salute.
He stood up straight, looking over each of us suspiciously. “As you were,” he stated, turning on his heel.
The second he was a step away, Bailey crumpled into tears of laughter, and I was quick to follow. I’d always wondered what it would be like to date the Eric I’d met three years ago. And now I knew. It was awesome.
“He’s hilarious,” Bailey said, once she’d calmed down enough to breathe. “He’s so much nicer than my roommate’s guy,” she added in a grumble. An idea brightened her eyes. “We should totally become roommates again! That would be the best! I can convince Mandy to switch with you!”
“Uh… I don’t know, Bailey,” I stalled guiltily. “I’m kinda settled in where I’m at now.”
“Well, if you change your mind…” She gave me a winning smile.
Ashley left the lunch line with her tray of food. She started over to me, but hesitated when she saw I was with Bailey. I waved her over anyway, and she stiffly took the seat beside me. She looked a bit weary and disheveled. Her curls seemed extra wild.
“You’re still here?” Ashley snarled at Bailey, narrowing her droopy eyes.
Bailey’s smile died out, and she closed her book. “Sandy, good luck on the exam tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you too.” She got up quickly. “Don’t forget your notebook.” I held it out to her and she took it with a small smile.
“Thanks. And don’t forget the fedora.” She gave an exaggerated wink as she left.
Ashley snorted, unamused. “I can’t believe you’re friends with her. Has she tried to convert you yet?”
“To what?”
“Never mind,” Ashley huffed.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” I asked.
She tugged at the black shirt I’d just gotten back. “Oh yeah. I didn’t have anything clean. Why? Afraid I’ll stretch it with my double Ds?” she mocked, staring down at her size A chest.
“No, you can wear it,” I assured her, trying not to let her mood sour mine.
“Good, cuz it was this or lingerie. I prefer to keep lace to the bedroom and clubbing.”
“You can keep it if you want. It’s too tight on me now anyways.”
“It fits us the same,” she said. “But I like it tight, so I accept.” She gave a sigh and propped her head up with her hands. “Ugh, I feel like shit,” she grumbled. “My head is spinning.” She rubbed her eyes drowsily.
“Sounds like my cold. Bailey said it’s been going around campus. And that drinking green tea should help.”
Her lips snarled. “Bailey says…” she mocked in a whiny voice. “Whatever would we do without her wisdom?” she scoffed.
“Well, she is a nutrition major.”
She snorted dismissively. “Oh look, your boyfriend’s here,” she sniped.
Excitement bubbled through me, and I looked up in search of Eric. Instead, I found Tom. He and a guy from his band were standing at the corkboards by the lunch line, taking down fliers and putting up new ones.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” she spat, leaving with her lunch tray. I watched in dismay as she went to another table. What’s her problem?
Tom strode by with a big grin on his face. “Voodoo,” he greeted in passing.
“Giant,” I countered.
He gave a hearty laugh before he was out the door with his friend. I looked back to where Ashley now sat with her other friends. Her lips were closed tight, pursed with annoyance. She rubbed her head and looked everywhere but at me.
Stupid Ashley. She was actually still upset about Tom? What a jerk. I stacked my books and study notes in my arms and tossed my garbage on my way out the door.
I muttered under my breath about Ashley for half of the trip back to the dorms, shoving my books into my bag as I went. Why did people have to change? I’d thought we were real friends. I liked hanging out with her. We had matching hair for God’s sake! She had even gotten me to dance on multiple occasions, and now we couldn’t even eat lunch together?
Another friendship gone to waste over a boy. I hoped she’d get over it, because it was petty and stupid. If I was going to lose a friend, I wanted a good reason for it. Like Aurora and me. She tried to kill me. Friendship over. Not that I wanted Ashley to come after me with a knife, but come on! This was just dumb.
TODD:
Another fine day in hell. Todd slammed his car door shut and leaned against it, holding his cell away from his ear while he waited out his mom’s rant. He’d only answered because she called five times in a row and he was sick of hearing the stupid phone ring. She wanted him to visit. The bitchology translation was that she wanted money. The only time she ever wanted him around was to buy her something. Whether it was food, beer, or to pay her goddamn rent. He’d fallen out of that habit almost a year ago, and there was no way in hell he was going down that road again. Besides, money was tight. He hadn’t worked much over the summer. He’d been too busy reeling from amnesia. Thank you, Aurora. But he couldn’t just blame her. He’d caused the car crash. He’d hit his head. He’d made himself a potato. She’d just taken advantage of his excessive stupidity.
He lit up a cigarette and lazily puffed on it. His mom was gossiping now. Updating him on Janet’s ongoing divorce from the rich douchebag she’d married at eighteen. Was he supposed to feel sorry for her? Gold digger got exactly what she wanted.
A thin, gray cat slunk across the street and climbed into the wheel well of his car.
“She wants to see you,” his mom said.
“Who?”
“Janet,” she cooed.
“No, she doesn’t,” he grumbled. So mom wants me to be the gold digger now.
“Yes, she does. She asked about you.”
“Did you tell her to fuck off?”
She giggled. “I think she’d rather fuck you. She knows you’ve muscled up since the last time she saw you.”
He snorted angrily. “I was fourteen the last time I saw her. A lot’s changed about me.”
The sudden silence on the other end of the line was a loud warning. He felt her mood shifting like a rush of static in the air. “Yeah. Too much,” she grumbled.
Shit… here it comes.
“Why bother with her or me when you’re a big time-”
He hung up. She’d call back once she realized he was gone, so he tossed his phone into his car. He was so past dealing with her crap. Her, Janet, Denise… The women in his life always wanted something from him.
There was one woman who never demanded anything of him, who only ever gave to him, and he’d kicked her away like garbage. Amelia. He was seriously messed up. She’d even called him a few times, but he never answered. He couldn’t.
He slammed the car door shut and faintly heard his mom’s ring tone start as he walked away. The cat followed, limping after him. He tossed his cigarette butt to the ground by his front steps and looked back. The cat hung in his shadow, breathing so hard he could see its ribs ripple under thin, knotted fur.
“Wait here.” He went inside, searched his fridge, and stepped back onto his porch minutes later with a plate of sliced hot dog. He sat on the top step and set the plate by his feet. The cat inched forward to eat, and he searched its scraggly neck. No collar. Too bad.
He fished his pocket for another cigarette and discovered he was out. He crumpled the empty pack in his fist. Fucking wonderful. “Can I bum a smoke?” he asked the cat. It didn’t even look up from the food. “Guess not.”
He leaned against the railing, searching the ground for a butt that still had some life left in it, and found a couple winners. He reached for one but jerked back with surprise when the cat crawled onto his lap, frantically biding for his affection. Its paws climbed his chest, and it stretched unsteadily before tumbling from his lap to the ground. The cat stood slowly, keeping a safe distance, watching him pleadingly.
“Don’t look at me like that. You fell.” Its green eyes stared into his. “What? I’m sorry, okay? Jesus.”
He snatched the empty plate and opened his door. The cat bolted inside faster than he could track.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” he grumbled. This was what he got for being nice to the damn furball. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? Did he have to get punched in the fucking face with it, or what?
“Time to leave, cat. Where the hell are you?” he demanded, scanning the living room. “You can’t stay unless you pay half the rent, and I’m pretty damn sure you can’t.”
He searched behind the TV, around his bed, in his closet and any little crevice where she might have hidden, grumbling curses. This was not what he wanted to do today.
Seconds from giving up, he looked to his bookshelf. It was a worn piece of shit crammed with books and his stereo. In the only empty space on the bottom shelf lay the cat with its little head propped on his tattered copy of The Art of War.
He drew the cat out. It gave a weak mew in protest but didn’t fight him. She, he noticed. He cradled her carefully against his chest, afraid he might break her bony little body. He walked to the door, intent on putting her back outside. “It’s nothing personal,” he assured her.
A rumbling purr stopped him from moving. Vibrations reverberated through his body from the tiny cat. Instantly, he thought of Jameson, the cat he had befriended and ultimately lost to Aurora. He couldn’t help but replay that moment in his mind. The yelling followed by the sharp snap of a life ending for no goddamn reason. For jealousy and revenge.
He held the cat tighter. His mind demanded that he let her go, be alone like he wanted, but he couldn’t move.
Her fuzzy head bumped his chin as she nuzzled against him.
No. Hell no. There was no fucking way he was going through that shit again. He couldn’t lose another person… or cat. He had no one, and that’s how it was supposed to be. Any time he tried to add something good to his life, it was ripped away. He’d accepted that, and part of accepting was to keep it from happening again.
He stepped outside, and instantly her claws dug into his t-shirt, catching on his skin. “Let go,” he growled. His shirt dragged tight to his back as she clung desperately. Fucking hell. He shifted his hold on her, intent on prying her loose, and she yelped in pain. Dirt and blood stained his fingers from where he’d touched her. “What the hell?”
He carried her back inside and used the bathroom mirror to inspect her fur. There was a big gash in her side. It was old, crusty, and matted. It looked like she had gotten into a nasty fight.
“What’s a little cat like you doing fighting?” he asked, carefully prying her claws from the holes she’d torn in his shirt. He set her on the floor and soaked a washcloth in the sink. She watched him curiously as he rung it out.
He settled onto the tile floor beside her and carefully dabbed her fur. She yowled and bit his hand.
“Ease up,” he growled, gently stroking dirt from her wound. “Do you want to get better or not?”
She kept gnawing on his hand. She was too weak to make it hurt, but it was damn annoying. “Stop, or I’ll toss you outside.”
To his surprise, she stopped. Her head rested back, finally letting him care for her. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asked softly. She trembled and yowled weakly. He could see the pain in her face, the hurt and fear. He could see himself. The way he had been dragging himself through life, barely holding on, just hoping for a chance, for a home.
He sighed heavily. He didn’t know what he was thinking, but it was clear. His mouth didn’t care what his plans were, or about what he’d decided recently. Words were coming that he couldn’t stop.
“I’m gonna make you a deal, Bones,” he said. “Stay alive, get better, don’t destroy any more shirts, and you can stay. For now. Deal?”
Of course, she didn’t answer, but he filled in the blank for her and cursed himself for it.
AURORA:
She drummed her fingertips on the table impatiently. Who would be coming to see her today? She’d rushed to the visiting area immediately once told someone was here for her. She’d been eager for a friendly face, one in particular, but with Todd the term “friendly” had to be used rather loosely.
A girl with black hair walked into the visiting room at Reid-Pearce, swaying her wide hips. She wore a black leather jacket but didn’t seem like the biker sort. She came across casual, wearing a stylishly loose t-shirt, tight jeans, and gray suede boots.
I miss shopping. Aurora wouldn’t have chosen this girl’s outfit, but she was sick to death of white, shapeless clothes and hospital slippers.
Aurora’s eyes narrowed as she realized the girl was coming to see her. She hadn’t been told who was visiting. She had hoped for Todd. She had expected one of her high school friends that still lived in the area. But she didn’t think she knew this one. She was the pretty type whose beauty has an easy confidence that comes from not trying at all. Aurora hated those girls, although she knew that she was also one of them. It didn’t take much to accentuate her beauty. Just decent lighting, which this place had none of.
Aurora tried to place her face. Hair black as night with tints of chocolate brown, tan skin, generous lips. Suddenly, it hit her. Her visitor was Amelia Pascarelli, the bitch who stole Todd. A sly grin spread across Aurora’s face. She had been trying to find a way to get to Amelia for far too long. Finally, she could destroy her. And it would feel so good.
Come a little closer. Come to me.
Amelia sat across from her, smoothing her polished raven hair behind her shoulder. Some of it slipped back, falling like silk ribbons. A silver charm hung around her neck. It matched the one Sandy had been wearing for a while, a disguised whistle pendant. Sandy had blown hers for help on the beach. A wry smirk lifted Aurora’s face from the memory of it. Sandy had looked so pathetic, sprawled on the sand, terror in her eyes. A giddy laugh escaped Aurora’s lips; she couldn’t help it.
She leaned back, boldly smiling, to assess the tramp before her. She knew very little about the eldest Pascarelli. She was twenty-four and a physical therapist. She had suffered something traumatizing that had Tony spending much of his sophomore year at Weston worrying over her safety and sanity. Up close, she appeared fragile to Aurora. Not anything that most may notice. On the surface, she appeared confident, but deep in her dark eyes was hurt and fear that Aurora could easily manipulate.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed, and Aurora realized the tramp was busy doing her own assessment. Her eyes roamed over Aurora’s perfect, fair skin and locked on her gaze.
Aurora’s lips curled in disgust. She leaned forward in her plastic chair, eyes wide, allowing Amelia a glimpse of the overwhelming power lying beneath the surface. Amelia narrowed her eyes and boldly slid her chair closer, c
rossing her arms on the table.
Silly, stupid girl. She was overconfident, or had no idea who she was dealing with.
“Amelia Pascarelli,” she sang in greeting.
“Aurora,” she droned.
She smirked at Amelia’s easy tone, careful to keep from touching her just yet. Wait for it. Patience. “What brings you here?”
“A psycho with a death wish,” Amelia stated. “You?” she dared.
“Same thing,” Aurora answered plainly.
Amelia seemed so much like her, yet opposite in all the ways that they were similar. It was obvious to her why Todd would want them both. They shared an easy confidence, had nearly the same length of hair, both smooth and straight. Amelia was only an inch or so shorter than her. They could probably trade clothes if they wanted, though Amelia couldn’t fill out her tops, she noticed proudly. Even their names weren’t so different. But Aurora was light and fair. Amelia was dark and exotic. Their meeting was like an angel and demon sharing a casual conversation.
“You’re here for Todd. You want him back, don’t you?” Aurora said. She flipped a stray lock of golden blonde hair over her shoulder. “That’s cute,” she mocked. “Not a chance, cupcake. Todd loves me.”
Amelia’s stone cold expression cracked a wide smile. With teeth white and sharp, her jovial expression came across menacing. “You wish. You’ve already lost him.”
“Have I?” Aurora challenged. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”
Amelia leaned back casually but kept her arms on the table, her gaze hard and threatening. “You’re wasting your effort.”
“So you say.”
That smile came again. Their eyes locked as if in battle. Aurora covertly reached across the table. Her fingertips brushed against Amelia’s hand. Slowly, she eased her magic into her skin, letting it wind its way to her mind. Amelia didn’t back away. She didn’t react at all but stayed with eyes locked on hers. They were in a staring match that Amelia was about to lose. She couldn’t wait to see the absent look in her dark eyes as her mind was lost.
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