by S. L. Stacy
So I knew that they responded to intense fear and humiliation, but not arousal. The itching at my back distracted me from the pleasurable exploration of Jimmy’s hand.
“Jimmy, stop,” I panted, shrinking from his touch.
He withdrew his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I just need a minute.” I got up and raced for the basement bathroom. I locked the door, pulled my top over my head and unsnapped my bra. A second later they burst out of my back, smacking against the walls of the small bathroom. One of them toppled a glass candle holder on the shelf above the sink. It shattered on the floor.
“What’s going on in there?” I heard Jimmy ask through the door. He tried the doorknob. “What…Siobhan, what are you doing in there?”
“Just give me a second!” I shouted. I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself, trying to forget my desire for him. The velvety wings retracted. I put my bra and my shirt back on, unlocked and opened the door. Jimmy stood just outside of it, his fist poised to knock again.
“I have to go,” I blurted and swerved around him to get to the stairs.
“What the hell! What were you doing in there?” He followed close behind me all the way upstairs. “If you wanted me to stop, you should have said something earlier.”
I finally turned around to face him. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I just…I didn’t want you to stop, but I did…it just got too intense. I’m sorry.” I looked down at the floor. “And I’m sorry—I accidentally broke your candle holder. I’ll go back down and clean it up.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. And don’t be sorry, just tell me.” He reached down to coax my chin up so that my eyes met his again.
I pursed my lips and nodded. I had just lied to the nicest, most genuine guy I knew.
“I do have to go,” I said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He nodded and stood in the doorway, watching me hurry away.
Tomorrow came and went. Sunday slipped by. I didn’t call him. At school I didn’t meet him at our usual empty janitor’s closet for a quick make out session before homeroom. I managed to avoid him all the way up until lunchtime.
Anna and I ate lunch with the rest of the squad and a few of the football players. This was the “popular table.” I guess I was supposed to be popular, but I didn’t feel like it. Even before Jasper gave me my wings, I felt like I didn’t fit in. Not just at school, like most kids feel—it ran deeper than that. Sometimes it was like I was in the wrong place—that I didn’t belong anywhere.
Even so, I knew our reputation, so I was a little surprised but impressed when Jimmy marched up to our table. Even in just his faded jeans and characteristic white t-shirt, he looked better than the two jocks sitting with us.
“Hi,” Jimmy said shortly, nodding at the table in general.
“Hey, loser,” our squad captain Tija mumbled.
Thankfully, her highly original insult was covered up when one of the guys bellowed, “Hey, Jim-BO!” He hopped to his feet and raised his hand to give Jimmy a hi-five. Jimmy hit his hand half-heartedly.
“Can I talk to you?” he said to me as I pretended to pick at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Sure!” I exclaimed, looking up attentively even though I knew what he was hinting at.
“I mean…in private, for just a minute?”
“Can’t we just talk here?” I tried my best to sound inconvenienced. “Anything you have to say you can say in front of my friends.”
“Well, okay…I was just wondering…” God, what was I doing to him? I’d never heard him sound so nervous before. I didn’t think he even got nervous. “…what color your Homecoming dress was.”
“Why would you need to know that?” Tija piped up.
“Um, because we’re going together.” Jimmy sounded like he was entertaining the question of an annoying toddler.
I took a deep breath. “Oh, you were serious about that?” I said in my best oblivious voice. I could feel Anna glaring at me from across the table. “Sorry, I thought you were joking. Anyway, I can’t go with you.”
Jimmy’s expression was hard to read, but when he spoke again his tone simmered with anger. “Really. Why’s that? Who are you going with?”
“She’s Siobhan Elliot. She can go with whoever she wants,” Tija replied for me, her voice like acid.
He shrugged. “Well, I hope you have fun.”
The rest of the table was already moving on, laughing and talking as if he weren’t there anymore, but Jimmy held my gaze and mouthed one last word at me.
Coward.
“Nice going,” Anna snapped. She gathered her lunch and her backpack and took off after her brother.
***
Anna and I have been sitting at her kitchen table in silence for a while, both deep in thought. She’s the one to finally break it.
“I know you never told me everything,” she says. “I don't think you really meant to hurt him. Well, I guess you did...on purpose, so he'd stay away.”
I give an almost imperceptible nod, and then try to cover even that up by putting a lock of hair behind my ear. As always, Anna is spot on. I had been too scared to confide in her and her brother, and it cost me both of their friendships. Anna hated me afterwards, of course. She quit cheering when the season ended and immersed herself in chorus and the school musicals. For the rest of the year, the football players got up in Jimmy's face and bellowed things like "De-nied!" and "Re-jected!" They weren't the only jerks, though. Jimmy's friends called me Ice Princess. He didn't, but he didn't tell them to stop, either. The nickname didn’t stick, but I spent the rest of high school stringing boys along, always pulling back when things would get too hot and heavy. I didn’t hook up with anyone regularly until Max.
“It must have had something to do with…Jasper,” Anna realizes, pausing before saying his name as though she can't get used to him having one. “Everything fell apart after that night. He’s affected you in a way I can’t fully appreciate. I want us to be friends again, Siobhan,” she admits, sounding frustrated, “but you have to promise me that, when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything. I think it will make it easier for me to forgive you.”
“I promise,” I say even though I’m not sure I can keep it. Being friends with her and Jimmy would mean the world to me, but I can’t tell them Jasper turned me into some kind of creature. Especially Anna—his black aura didn’t affect her like it did me. She had sensed he was dangerous and insisted we leave. She wouldn’t be talking friendship if she knew he transferred his darkness to me.
“So, what are you going to do about Jasper? He’s made it clear he knows who we are, but we still don’t know who or what he is.”
“I have no idea.” My shoulders heave as I give a heavy sigh. “I guess just try to not fail the class while at the same time figuring out what he is and why he’s here."
“Piece of cake.” Something about the combination of her nonchalance and the absurdity of the situation makes us both burst out into hysterical laughter until we’re nearly hyper-ventilating.
“I think I’d better head back,” I say once I’ve recovered myself.
“Of course. Please take the rest of these.” Anna thrusts the container of cookies into my hands. “Maybe your sisters can help you eat them. Assuming sorority girls eat cookies.”
“You have no idea.”
Chapter 6
I finally have a dreamless night’s rest and awake feeling refreshed the next morning and ready to confront Jasper in class. Or if not confront, at least be able to look at him without cowering in my seat. My armor is a sleeveless leopard-print dress with a red belt and red sandals. Wearing my favorite dress boosts my determination, and I walk into Dr. Mars’s class with my head held high.
But it turns out I didn't need my fashion shield today. The auditorium fills up, but there's no sign of our dapper teaching assistant.
My purse vibrates in my l
ap. It's yet another text from Max. My phone has been blowing up with nonstop messages from him since late last night. This one says:
Siobhan, what's up? Please txt or call me. Miss u. It's punctuated with an animated frowny face. I toss my phone into my purse.
I'm only half-listening to Dr. Mars’s lecture about Gilgamesh. Instead, I fasten my eyes on the door, waiting for Jasper to walk through it.
At ten to eleven, it's pretty clear he's not coming. After assigning the next readings, Dr. Mars lets us go. I lag behind the rush of undergraduates spilling out of the doors, wondering if maybe he needs to stop by and check in with the professor. While I linger in the hall, my phone buzzes once. Twice. I think someone is trying to call me, but when I take my phone back out it’s Max again.
What's up worried.
Horny is more like it. I'm surprised to see the second text is from Anna:
Jim's band is playing tonight. Come with me? Bring your sisters if you want.
I stare at Anna's text until the backlight dims. Part of me doesn't think I can handle any more drama. My hook up is turning into a stalker, and the mysterious man who gave me my wings is my TA. The other part is dying to get a glimpse of her old "beau," and she wins out. I can always surround myself with a small army of my sorority sisters. I text Anna back "sure" and send another message blast to the board to see if any of them want to tag along.
Awesome! Anna replies later. They’re playing at The End at eight.
I have no idea what or where The End is.
Sounds good, I tell her. Tanya and Carly can come. We’ll give you a ride.
That’s ok. I have my truck. I don’t want to impose.
It’s no problem! Meet us at the quad at 7:30.
My sisters and I wait for Anna outside the house. When I see a tall, willowy figure with a mane of glossy brown hair walking up the driveway, I slice my arm back and forth through the air and cup my hands around my mouth.
“Anna!”
Anna’s head jerks in our direction, and she gives a small, hesitant wave back. Her eyes dart uneasily from one Greek house to the next as she approaches us.
I present her to Tanya and Carly with a flourish of my hands.
“Guys, this is Anna, my good friend from high school. Anna, these are my sisters Carly and Tanya.”
Tanya smiles but casts me a knowing look while Anna’s shaking Carly’s hand. I've told her some of the story from high school before—the biased version where Jimmy was a jerk, Anna was a bitch, and I was perfect.
“Shotgun!” Tanya calls as we’re descending on Carly’s blue hatchback. I crawl into the backseat with Anna. While the car purrs to life, Tanya searches for The End on the GPS.
“I can’t find it.”
“It’s short for ‘The End of the World,’” Anna explains.
“That's uplifting,” Carly says wryly.
“We don’t need that,” Anna tells Tanya, meaning the GPS. “It’s in Greenview. Make a right at the next light,” she instructs Carly.
Once we figure out where we’re going, we sink into an uncomfortable silence. Carly finally turns some music on, and a rasping, British male voice singing about a white wedding fills the car.
“What is this?” Anna wonders.
“Billy Idol.”
“Ugh, I hate eighties music. The eighties were the beginning of the decline of pop music.”
Carly slams on the brake, sending us all reeling forward then slamming back into our seats. Luckily, we’re on a side street, and no one’s behind us.
“Sorry, I thought I saw a squirrel.” Carly’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and I can see her baby blue eyes in the rearview mirror trying to make Anna’s side of the backseat burst into flames. One glance at me and Carly’s grip on the steering wheel slackens. She swallows her rage and shifts her foot to the accelerator, easing the car gently onward. A swift punch cuts off Idol mid-croon.
“I like your shirt,” Tanya tells Anna a few beats later. She cranes her head around the passenger’s side seat to face us. “I love wearing my boyfriend’s shirts, too. Boy clothes are so comfy.”
Anna runs her fingers along the hem of her dark blue and black plaid flannel shirt. “This is my shirt.”
Tanya’s red lips make an “O,” but no sound comes out. She turns back to look out the front window.
“So…are you in a sorority?” Carly asks quickly.
“No.” Anna scowls at the curls springing up over the top of the driver’s seat. “I don’t need to pay to have friends. Um, no offense.” Anna regards me anxiously out of the corners of wide eyes.
“We’re here!” Carly announces with relief, saving me from having to pretend not to be offended.
The End of the World is a nondescript brick building with a green awning sandwiched between a tanning salon and a sushi restaurant. All of the metered spaces on Third Street are taken, so Carly cruises the side streets until we find a free space in the residential part. The houses here are mostly red brick with neglected yards and weathered fences. Greenview isn't one of the most prosperous neighborhoods around Shadesburg—or one of the safest. We walk for about three blocks to get back to The End.
“My feet hurt already!” Tanya whines. Ahead of us, a twenty-something guy with a green Mohawk and a gold septum ring holds open the door to The End for his friends.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn six-inch heels,” Carly tells her and points to her own pair of red crushed velvet flats. Her shoes seem to be the same ones printed underneath the iridescent letters of “Let’s Dance!” on her white tank top. Next to her, Tanya oozes sex appeal in a pair of wedge heels—which are high, but not actually six inches—gold spandex leggings, and a white lace halter top plunging dangerously close to a wardrobe malfunction. My sisters and I cluster together like three bright tropical fish stumbling into a sea of washed out denim, leather, black ink and gold body piercings. In her flannel shirt and jeans, Anna blends in much better, marching around us and accepting the door from the bull-ring guy. Before going inside, I scan the poster plastered to the front of it. There's a picture of a white skull amidst black flames at the bottom, and there are inky tendrils coming off the bold, black letters of the announcement:
The End is Nigh!
Music-alypse at The End!
featuring Black Orchid and Search and Destroy
Inside, the bar is bustling, but not so crowded there’s no breathing room. The lighting is dim, and the air is hazy with cigarette smoke. Booths and round wooden tables stand between us and the bar. At the far end space has been cleared for a microphone and sound equipment. There’s a guy setting up and tuning his electric guitar. Anna claims one of the tables closest to the performance area. I hurry to catch up with her while Tanya and Carly stop to get drinks at the bar.
“Sorry if that was awkward,” I say, sitting down beside her. Anna shakes her head.
“No, I’m sorry,” she insists. “I shouldn’t have said that about sororities. You have special rituals and bonding and stuff.” Her upper lip twitches in uncertainty and perhaps a little disgust. “I just don’t get it because I don’t make friends with other girls that easily.”
“I know how they can come off, but Tanya and Carly are really nice once you get to know them,” I tell her, then let it go with a smile as they join us, vibrant cocktails in hand.
“I think I will get something,” I say, standing. “Do you want anything?”
“No, thanks,” Anna says, so I go up to the bar alone and ask the bartender for a tonic water and lime with ice.
“Are you ready for the end of the world?” asks a familiar voice behind me as I'm watching the bartender prepare my simple order. I turn to see Jasper standing there, smirking. Again, he's wearing dress pants and a white collared shirt with no tie. I imagine his closet bursting with dozens of pairs of the same stylish black slacks and crisp white shirts. The thought makes me laugh.
His brow furrows. “It wasn’t that funny.”
I shake my hea
d. “It’s nothing. Shouldn't you be drinking a martini or something?”
“Excuse me?”
“The beer. It doesn’t go with your…look.” I wave my hand in a circle over his ensemble as I say it. My heart thuds in my chest, but there’s a playful grin on my lips. “And your look—it doesn’t go with this club.”
“Neither does yours, Ms. Gamma Lambda Phi.” Jasper’s chuckle is uncertain.
The bartender hands me my drink, and I hand him some cash, tip included. I turn back to Jasper. “Because charming, mysterious doctoral student fits right in.”
This time he lets out a bark of laughter. He holds up his beer. “Cheers.”
I give in and clink my glass against his bottle.
“You weren't in class today,” I say after taking a sip of my tonic water. I instantly regret it. Why would I let him know I noticed? It sounds like I care.
Jasper drains the rest of his beer. “We had a meeting for all of the TAs,” he replies after swallowing. “Did you miss me?” The question comes out lighthearted, gently teasing, but there's a disturbing intensity in his eyes.
I tear my gaze away from his and look at the glass in my hand. “I should get back to my friends.”
“Wait,” he insists. “Can we get coffee or something after this? I know a good place close to here. I think we need to talk.” He sounds genuinely concerned.
“I don't think so,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction. “Carly's my ride.”
“I can get you back to campus safely.”