by C. E. Wilson
“I know,” Reese says. “I want to understand her.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn’t rat us out to Paulson.”
Griff blows a raspberry, and a few drops of saliva collide with my face. I’m not even able to wipe them. “How do you know it even knew it was us?”
“She knows,” Reese says. “I can tell.”
“You’re crazy, but I guess that makes sense. You did used to be—” he cuts himself off and I hear him stand. “Let me know when it wakes up.”
“Give me the controller,” Reese says in a stiff voice.
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“Give it to me. I can’t risk you fooling with it again and doing some permanent damage.”
“I told you before…”
“Give it to me,” Reese says, exasperated. “Go back and watch porn, asshole. I’ll stay here and make sure she wakes up okay. She should be up any minute now.”
Something unknown passes between the hands. “And how do you know that?” Griff asks as he stands. I squint at him out of the corner of my eye as he turns away and heads out of the garage.
“I know what a shock feels like.” Reese’s voice is morose. He almost sounds upset. Shouldn’t he be proud that he’s no longer a Potential? I couldn’t imagine any Beauty acknowledging that they had been a Potential, but Reese seems open to talk about his experiences. Is that why he’s curious about me? He wants to talk to someone who understands, maybe? From the looks of it, Griff and Celia might as well come from a different world.
The door shuts after a few moments and Reese fidgets with an unknown object. I open up one eye and see it’s the controller… at least I think it is. Maybe it’s a phone. I hope if I lay still for long enough he’ll go away. I’m humiliated about having others see the marks from Shawn. I didn’t know they were obvious. With no mirrors in the garage, I have no idea what I look like. I’m cold and exhausted, lonely and weak, but not defeated. Not yet.
I don’t dare open my eyes completely. I can still hear Reese shifting around me. I can tell I’m on the floor and I’m on my back; when I do sneak a peek, I’m staring up at the ceiling. I expect Reese to be pacing around, nervous on his feet, so he can loom over, but he shifts again and his knees hit the cement floor.
“You’re awake,” he says softly. “I saw you open your eyes a few times.”
I freeze. How does he know I’ve been awake the whole time? Does he know how long I’ve been listening to his conversation? Still trying to remain strong, I don’t open my eyes. I’m still trying to remember what he looked like before his friend shocked me. My fingers twitch in the aftermath of waking up, but Reese doesn’t force me.
“You’re not awake yet.”
It sounds as though he’s talking to himself and as I consider opening my eyes, warmth brushes against my lips. His fingertips. He’s touching the scabs left behind from Shawn. Is this a game? Is he trying to figure out what I’ll do when I’m touched? Does Reese actually want to get me in trouble? I move my lips away from his fingers, but keep my eyes pinched shut.
I swear he stifles a laugh before he clears his throat and doesn’t bring his fingers to my injured lips a second time.
If he had only let them linger a little longer then I might have been able to taste him. I wonder if he tastes like all the others. Apples? Cloves? Cinnamon?
“I took the shocker away from Griff,” he continues to speak as though I’m listening. “So you don’t need to worry. I can’t believe he did that in front of me, no less. No one understands that I used to be on the other end of the collar…” He trails off, perhaps realizing he’s saying too much. “I would never do that. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I don’t care what the rules say. Potentials are…”
I suddenly remember how he called me disgusting and I move around uncomfortably on the floor. He’s watching. I feel his eyes. What does he look like? I want to see the owner of these passionate words, even if they may not be one hundred percent true.
“I guess you have a reason not to want to look at me,” Reese says. “Judging by what you must have been put through, I don’t think I’d want to look at anyone, either. For the record… I know what you’re going through. Sort of. I was an Eleven too until I was upgraded to Beauty status. None of my friends…” he pauses, “… none of them know what it’s like. Apparently, I’m lucky to be accepted. Griff thinks I’m only trying to talk to you because I feel guilty… but guilty about what? I’m not ashamed of what I was. I’m more ashamed of what I am now.”
I’m caught off-guard. More ashamed to be a Beauty than a Potential? Deciding I can’t take anymore, keeping my eyes closed, I slide up into a sitting position. Reese remains quiet but I can hear breathing as I move and press up against the nearest wall.
“So you’re awake,” Reese says when I’m still. “And yet your eyes are still closed?”
I nod. I don’t have to speak to him yet. Just because he asks a question doesn’t mean I should indulge him with an immediate response.
“All accounts say that you can speak well. And yet… you won’t talk,” he says in a quiet voice. I feel him moving around and I wonder if he’s trying to get closer to me. I think of my childhood days. I could bite him if he starts to touch me. I don’t know what his intentions are, other than what he says. And Beauties can lie. They can tell scrumptious lies and Potentials lap them up like fallen cake batter on an immaculate floor.
I nod.
“I’d like to hear your voice,” he says. His voice sounds honest. “I… I haven’t seen another Eleven in years. I want to see your eyes. I see you have great hair, but I bet there’s more to you than chocolate-colored waves.” He starts to tease and I all but growl. “Okay… flattery and jokes aren’t working. The question is… what will work? Personally, I’m a fan of chocolate…” He trails off, letting his words hang in the air.
Hating myself for it, I peek open one eye and catch his profile as he’s digging in his pant pocket. His hair covers most of his face and I can see it’s silver with platinum white streaks. I still can’t see his face yet. I catch a few silver hoops in the top of his ears and a stark white shirt collar around his smooth neck. I’ve never seen a Beauty who caused such a reaction in me. I hate myself; I don’t understand what makes him special.
And then the smell of chocolate fills my desperate nostrils and I close my eye.
“It’s not much, but I’d like to think of it as a peace offering and an apology for my friend. He shouldn’t have shocked you.”
No. He shouldn’t have, but what’s to stop an ignorant Beauty who doesn’t understand how cruel the world can be to those who aren’t flawless from hurting others?
The smell of chocolate is growing stronger and I can tell he’s waving it under my nose. I snap at the chocolate behind closed lids and come up empty handed.
“You are clever,” he says. “Please, Eleven. Let me see your eyes. You’re going to have to let me look at you sooner or later. Might as well be before Griff comes back, right?”
Grr… he’s right. I don’t even know Griff, but I don’t like him. He calls me an ‘it’ or a beast and he shocked me without even seeing me. Not to mention… I’d like to see what Reese looks like. I’ve seen bits and pieces, and he’s seen me and hasn’t run away in disgust. I couldn’t imagine my eyes would send him off the edge. Other than my hair, they’re apparently my most redeeming quality.
The chocolate touches my lower lip and Reese remains silent. He’s giving me the chance to listen to him.
Slowly, I open my eyes and immediately find the piece of chocolate and I snatch it from his fingers. He gasps and pulls his hand away, but doesn’t run for the house. I move away slightly to finish off the chocolate, knowing my hand use is a bit sloppy after years of disuse. Shawn likes to see me eat with my face and it’s almost unusual to be allowed the right to use my hands like a human being. The chocolate tastes like freedom. The sugar and cocoa melt slowly and, though I’m starving, I’m able to
savor each bite. I lick my sticky fingers and am surprised at how silent Reese is while I’m eating.
When I’m finished, I finally catch my breath and find the courage to ask him. “What? Shouldn’t you be disgusted with me?”
He winces at my words, but doesn’t deny them. “You heard that?” he asks. After I nod, he continues. “How are you? With being shocked and all?”
“I’m fine,” I say in a low voice. “It wasn’t the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
He doesn’t deny it. He understands. “I say those kinds of things because I need to fit in here,” he says, almost ashamed. “But I don’t think you’re disgusting. How could I find anyone disgusting who carries the same number I once did?” There’s a hint of affection in his voice that I don’t understand. He talks as though carrying the same number means we can be friends.
I try to catch glimpses of him while he kneels out of the corner of my eye. He’s wearing black slacks and a button-down white shirt with a matching jacket. It’s unbuttoned, but I bet it’s fitted at the waist. He must attend a good school. There’s a light blue tie hanging loosely around his neck. His manner is casual and almost familiar. Different types of heavy silver rings reach around each of his long, dexterous fingers. The same fingers that had fed me chocolate only moments ago. The same fingers that touched my lips and almost set them on fire with their softness.
I clear my throat, not wanting to be as attracted to him as I, obviously, already am. Yeah. He was once an Eleven, but he certainly isn’t anymore. My brow furrows. It’s time to quit stalling, so I slide around to look him face to face.
Amethyst eyes.
I’m in a daze as I drink him in like a thirsty traveler in the desert and he doesn’t look away. It’s as though he’s doing the same thing. He’s looking at my flaws I’m sure. He’s trying to remember that I’m how others had once seen him. I’m sure he’s disgusted.
“What happened? How are you an Eleven?” he asks at last and I realize I’m openly checking him out. It’s almost too much for anyone to take in, let alone a Potential! How was he not always a Beauty? He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. His lips are full and the upper one is a bit puffier than the lower one. The color reminds me of bruises on pale skin and I want to take a bite or lick them. His silver hair falls over his one eye as he continues to take me in and I realize I haven’t answered him yet! I look away.
“I… I’m sorry,” Reese stammers. “I just didn’t… I didn’t expect you to…” he stumbles over his words and I can tell he’s trying to compose himself. “You don’t look like an Eleven to me.”
“Check the Registration Records, then,” I say in return. “I’m an Eleven. If you think I should be lower—”
“No!” he blurts out, going to reach for me. I pull away as if his long fingers were on fire despite how much I want them to run through my messy hair. He brings his hand back towards him and rests it on his thigh, gripping it into a loose fist. “That… that’s not what I mean at all. Let me see your eyes.”
“Are you commanding me?” I snap before realizing to whom I’m talking. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…”
“I’m not,” Reese answers. “I’m not commanding you. Your eyes. Are they green?”
“Hazel.”
“I’ve seen green and hazel eyes before, but not like yours. Not on an Eleven. I still can’t believe you’re an Eleven.”
“When am I moving to the basement?” I ask.
“Oh… uh…” he trails off and rubs the back of his head, pushing his soft, floppy hair around his face.
I want to find out how soft his hair is. I lick my lips and try to remember Shawn’s warning about not crossing any boundaries. This man is not for me. He’s another Beauty. It’s natural to be attracted to them.
“Did you want to eat first? Paulson says you can.”
“I thought the chocolate was feeding me.”
“No. Like lunch,” he says. “You do like eating lunch, don’t you?”
“When I can,” I say. Admittedly, I didn’t receive a meal in the middle of the day too often. Shawn wants me frail. He wouldn’t say it in those terms, but Shawn likes me skinny and easily breakable. “I shouldn’t eat too much, though.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be a hog.”
The vibrations from his throaty laugh go all the way down to my stomach, but I’m hesitant to smile. I have no idea what I must look like to him and for the first time since arriving here, I want a mirror. I want to see what I look like and how Reese feels about the way I look.
“You couldn’t be a hog if you tried,” he says. “I can order some pizza and have it delivered here.”
“P-pizza?” My face warms at the thought. I haven’t eaten pizza since I was a child. I remember the flavors, but mostly because of memories and smell. I don’t remember exactly how it tastes. I don’t remember how all the different flavors come together in a sweet harmony of salt, sweet, and dough, just that they do. I resist the urge to lick my lips and finally gain the confidence to look at him again.
He’s such a Beauty that looking at him hurts. I’m ashamed to be gaping but, for some reason, he doesn’t seem to mind. His light purple eyes are locked on mine. He looks curious and not disgusted.
“I’ll call them… but I don’t get any reception in here,” he says as he stands up. His toned, lean body soars in the air and suddenly I don’t want to be on the floor, or on my knees in front of him. I want to be by his side. My eyes widen as he reaches in his pocket and turns around to face me. I worry he’s going for the shock controller, but it’s only a phone.
“I promised I wouldn’t shock you and I meant it, Eleven,” he says. Through his lips, even my ranking sounds good. I stare up at him blankly and he looks sheepish. “I’ll only be gone for a little while. I should probably wait for the pizza with Griff and then after lunch…” he doesn’t look like he likes what he’s saying, “… then we’ll move you to the basement. Okay?”
I nod, but my heart’s not in it. Suddenly, I’m not as excited to be in the basement, isolated from the rest of the house.
He turns back around and holds up one finger. “I’ll be back soon, Eleven. I promise.”
And then he’s gone. I want to believe him, but the promise of a Beauty isn’t worth much to a Potential. An Eleven, no less.
But what else can I do?
My body calls for the young man with the amethyst eyes.
Chapter Six
Not much time passes before Reese returns and says Griff wants to move me before the pizza arrives. I’m disheartened, and keep my mouth shut as Reese slowly reaches for the leash set to the wall.
“Is this okay?” he asks in a low voice. This tells me more than anything that he’s not like the others after all. No one’s asked me. Not since being downgraded from an Eighteen. And though Reese is a Beauty, he doesn’t exactly smell like one. I smell dark chocolate and spiciness. It’s a different scent and I close my eyes, inhaling him greedily. As my mouth parts to answer his question, Griff bursts into the room and starts barking.
“It’s fine. We’re moving it to the basement so we can eat. I’m not gonna have it making a fuss if the doorbell rings.”
“She’s not a dog, Griff,” Reese says impatiently.
“I calls them like I sees them. And what I see in front of me is a messy beast.” He smiles and holds up the controller. “Don’t forget I still have this, you,” he says in a harsh tone as Reese wraps his end of the leash to his wrist and then fists the rest. I flinch at the sight of the controller and resist the urge to hide behind Reese.
“Will you put that away, Griff? High and Mighty. You’re scaring her.”
“And you’re scaring me,” Griff says, tucking the controller into his pocket. “What’s gotten into you? Didn’t you hear what Paulson said? She’s crafty as a Potential can be. I wonder…” He trails off as Reese gently tugs me forward by the leash.
“It’s all right
,” he says softly, making sure he’s between Griff and me. I like how his tall form is like a shield and though I’m not small, Reese is easily a few inches taller than Griff and I. “Shut up,” he mutters to his friend as he leads me into the house. “I swear… you’re turning into your mom.”
“Keep my mom out of this,” Griff says in his defense. “She’s knows more about Potentials than you ever will.”
“I doubt that,” he mutters in response, tilting his head to look at me through his profile. Hair falls across his features before he tosses the silver strands aside so he can peek out of the corner of his eye.
“Heh, yeah. I bet you know more than you’d care to,” Griff says as the three of us walk through the kitchen. Griff stops in front of a door and opens it. Immediately, I’m hit with a blast of moth ball-scented, chilled air and I scrunch up my nose. “Look, Reese! It’s a princess. I’ve never seen one of them act like this before.” He steps up close and reaches for my jaw. “What’s wrong, Princess? You scared of the dark?”
Without thinking, my body reacts to his soft hands and I try to bite him. Teeth clank together on empty air and Griff looks with wide eyes.
“Did you see?” he bellows. “It tried to bite me! You little beast…” He trails off as he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the controller, aiming it at me. “You’ll think twice next time you try to bite me—” he’s cut off when Reese’s hand swats at the controller and the device is airborne. I watch as it rises and falls at our feet and Reese is the first one to pick it up. “What are you doing?” Griff says in an angry tone. “Did you not see what it did?”
“I saw,” Reese says. “And I’m surprised she didn’t try to lunge at you.”
“What?! It wouldn’t dare—”
“Don’t touch her,” he says, growling under his breath.
I’m surprised at how frightening his voice can sound. Like Shawn talking to his wife. It’s impressive how Beauties’ voices can change in an instant. One minute they can soothe you like a fresh cough drop on the last day of a cold and the next they can feel like a gunshot straight to the shoulder. I shudder at Reese’s tone and he notices the leash quivering in his hand.