by Tee, Marian
He pulled out a chair, straddled it. “How was school?”
“Just the same.”
“Is that Wesley guy still making the moves on you?”
I blushed.
His eyes widened. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing.” But I had answered too quickly and he wasn’t fooled.
“You’ve gone out on a date with him, haven’t you?”
“Of course not.” I fussed with the things on my table, repositioning the huge pencil sharpener Lucian—the mere thought of his name made my chest ache—lent me and piling my notebooks on one side.
“Come on, Deli, spill. You know you’re going to tell me sooner or later.”
“No, I—” I shut up, but it was too late.
“So, you are hiding something from me. If you didn’t go on a date with him then…” His voice trailed off.
I bit my lip hard, doing my best to keep quiet. But my propensity to talk won out in the end. “Okay, I flirted with Wesley.” I stole a look at Dyvian, scared of what he’d think. His smile somewhat soothed my worries.
“You don’t think I’m a slut?” Sure, Lucian and I had a tiff but it wasn’t like we had broken up. I still thought of myself as Lucian’s girlfriend…even if he didn’t like admitting it.
“No, I don’t think so. There’s no harm in flirting.”
“But I wouldn’t want Lucian to flirt with another girl.”
“You’re hurt and that’s why you probably indulged in a little flirting with another guy. It’s an understandable reaction, and I don’t think you’ll do it again, will you?”
I shook my head.
“Then that’s that. Lucian will simply have to accept it.” Dyvian’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “When was the last time you’ve talked to The Voice?”
“A while?” He didn’t have to know it was just this afternoon, did he? Dyvian could be so unreasonable about my special ability. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d think he was envious of the fact I had the super smart Voice inside my head.
But again, he saw right through me and groaned, “Didn’t I tell you to speak with it only during emergencies?”
“It was an emergency! I was sad.”
He snorted. “I suppose you told it about how much you’ve missed Lucian and all.”
“Umm…”
“Don’t bother lying. Your face says it all.” He massaged his temples with a sigh before suddenly looking up and demanding, “Did you also tell The Voice about the time you flirted with Wesley?”
“I did. So?”
An unholy gleam appeared in his eyes. “In explicit detail?”
“Well…maybe, but only because I was drowning in guilt and—what’s so funny?”
He stood up, his shoulders rocking in laughter. “Just something I thought. You wouldn’t understand.” He patted my head. “Sleep tight, Deli. I know someone who won’t.”
“If you’re talking about Lucian,” I said before I could stop myself, “don’t hold your breath. I don’t think he has even noticed we’re not talking.” And I wasn’t whining. I wasn’t.
“You never know, Deli. You never know.” And he left my room, still laughing.
~~~
“Have you and Lucian made up?” Audrey shifted her weight from one foot to another as we waited in line. Our P.E. instructor had scheduled a surprise shootout test for today, one I had a feeling I’d barely pass despite all the hours I’d put into practice.
There was simply no word to quantify how terrible my aim was. I didn’t want to imagine what harm I could do if the time would come I’d have to use my fire-breathing powers to toast some Zekans. What If I ended up roasting another Evren? Did my new race have any laws for unintentional murder?
“We’re still not talking,” I answered glumly. I bent down to tighten my shoelaces. Someone walked past me, hitting me on my shoulder with enough force that I skidded back…about a tenth of an inch.
Just what I need. I looked up and found myself the object of Melissa’s glare, frustration evident in her eyes. Someday, I’d really have to let her understand just how strong I was so she’d stop physically harassing me. All these harmless but annoying shoves were getting on my nerves.
I gave my shoelaces one last tug before standing up. “Hello.”
She tittered. “Sorry. I didn’t notice you.”
“Right.” I stared at her, wondering why I ever thought she was something to worry about. After everything that had happened, getting attacked by Zekans, discovering my immortality, coming face to face with Lucian’s voluptuous and 145-year-old—I asked Dyvian—former flame, yada, yada, yada, nothing this blond Queen Bee could do would ever be of consequence.
She was a pest, but a really tiny pest.
“So, anyway, Denny—”
“It’s Deli.”
“Umm, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Like I was saying, I have this cousin in Australia, and I told her we’ve got someone here from her country. Where did you last study again?”
Okay, maybe a not-so-tiny pest.
“It’s a private school,” I told her. “She probably wouldn’t know it.” Australia simply wasn’t far enough. Lucian should’ve said I came from Zimbabwe or somewhere just as obscure. If Melissa started digging up my past, she was bound to learn more beyond the fact that I really hadn’t come from down under.
And that was very bad. It could force us to leave town, and though that was something I still desired, I didn’t want it to happen for the wrong reasons.
“Maybe she would. She comes from a private school, too.”
I should’ve said I was home schooled, darn it.
“It’s—” I blinked several times and gasped. “Oh, my God, is that a genuine Tiffany necklace you’re wearing?”
Melissa’s hands flew to her throat. “Oh, this little thing?” She laughed and the RS girls laughed with her dutifully.
Audrey coughed, doing her best not to laugh, not with them but at them.
“It’s soooo nice,” I gushed, wanting to make sure Melissa forgot all about my yet unnamed private school in Australia. Note to self—Google private Aussie schools ASAP. “I’ve always wanted something like that, but Lucian doesn’t want to buy me one. You’re so lucky.”
“Uh-oh.” The words came out triumphant rather than sympathetic. “Is your relationship with Lucian on the rocks?”
I heaved a great sigh. “I just don’t know.” A long whistle pierced the air, and I quickly pushed Audrey forward. “It’s our turn to shoot baskets. Maybe we can talk next time again, Merissa.”
Melissa’s face became stone. “It’s Melissa.”
“Umm, whatever. Audrey, hurry up, will you? And stop laughing. We need to be serious about this test.”
~~~
Dyvian and I were still laughing when we reached home. I had recounted what happened, and he congratulated me for my quick thinking. He disappeared to the kitchen directly afterward, and I walked slowly up to my room, doing my best not to be obvious as I looked around for Lucian.
No light came from Lucian’s study or bedroom, and I could only surmise he was again on some errand or another.
Over dinner, I managed to control the urge to ask Dyvian about Lucian’s whereabouts. When I was done eating, I hurriedly told him I had homework to do and raced to my room. But all I could do was stare sightlessly at my textbook for hours.
Finally, I gave up, got in bed, and burst into tears.
“Voice?”
“Yes?”
I sniffed. “Do you know where Lucian is?”
“He’s in Death Valley—”
“Probably flirting with Angelica, no doubt.”
“I believe—”
“Don’t bother. I don’t want to know. I don’t care about him, and I don’t miss him.”
And then I covered my face with my pillow so Dyvian wouldn’t hear me crying.
The minutes ticked by and I tossed and turned in my sleep. Images of Lucian and Angelica entwined in each other’
s arms tormented me.
Frustrated at my futile attempts to sleep, I made an impulsive decision. I checked the alarm clock. Three o’ clock in the morning.
“Voice?”
“Yes?”
“Where’s Lucian now?”
“He’s in his room.”
I jumped out of bed, opened the door quietly, and tiptoed as fast as I could to Lucian’s room.
I peeked and found myself staring straight into Lucian’s warm green eyes. For one week, I had made myself avoid looking at him, and now, the sudden sight of Lucian in all his quiet perfection was almost too much for my eyes.
I badly wanted to blink, but I was scared if I did, I’d open my eyes and find him gone, realizing he was an illusion my desperate heart had conjured.
“Lucian?” I ventured, testing if the Lucian before me was an apparition or not.
He said nothing but only spread his arms open.
The next thing I knew, Lucian’s arms were wrapped tightly around me. I sobbed noisily against his chest. “I missed you…” I wanted to tell him the various things I missed about him, like the way he’d say “Deli, please” whenever his brainpower turned out to be inadequate in helping him understand what I was saying or doing. Or the patient way he’d tutor me with my homework or the martyr-like resignation in his eyes when I managed to convince him to watch Gossip Girl with me.
But I couldn’t tell him any of those because I was too busy crying and reacquainting myself with the feel of his arms around me, loving how broad his shoulders were, how strong his chest felt, and how warm his lips tasted against mine.
He kissed my hair. His arms tightened around me even more, and I let out an involuntary squeal of pain. His arms immediately loosened and he apologized.
I shook my head, and because I couldn’t help it, I said again, “I missed you.” And for some reason, that only made the tears fall once more.
He handed me the tissue box from the bedside table. “Your nose is running.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled and blew my nose.
When I was done, he pulled me back into his arms, and murmured, “I missed you, too.”
I pulled away so he could see just how incredulous I was. “You’re lying. It didn’t seem like it at all.”
“But I did, cross my heart.” His smile was tender as he made the appropriate gesture.
His attempt at making me smile was endearing, but I still wasn’t done with my little interrogation. I hated every minute I had spent away from Lucian, and I was determined to know everything that could help me prevent us from fighting again.
My fingers traced his jaw as I asked haltingly, “Why didn’t you just say sorry?”
He sighed again before quietly admitting, “Pride…among other things.”
“Are you really sorry?”
He kissed my forehead. “Yes.”
“I love you, Lucian.”
He answered the words with a kiss that swept all the sadness away. My heart told me I shouldn’t be so weak, that I should berate him for being too proud and forcing me to come to him first.
But it was impossible to stay angry with his lips moving over mine, and he was holding me like I was something precious and fragile, something he would die for before letting go.
Next time, I promised myself, drowsy and tired after crying so hard. Next time I won’t be so weak.
And then Lucian was kissing me again, murmuring he was sorry and that he’d watch me while I slept, and I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to the best night’s sleep I’d had in days.
Chapter Thirteen
Never force a guy to do something he doesn’t want to do. It was the most painful lesson I had to learn and probably the same for anyone else who preferred to ignore inconvenient truths. If you forced a guy to do something he didn’t want or wasn’t ready to do, the outcome would always be unpleasant, no matter how much he cared for you.
“Just for an hour, please.” I batted my eyelashes but the usually fail-proof technique was ineffective. Maybe my pretty fluttering eyes were only potent against humans?
We were in the living room on a warm cloudy Saturday, the Nevada weather cooperating nicely with the country fair scheduled to open tonight. Audrey and I had made plans to go, and I was hoping Lucian would let go of his privacy issues enough to accompany us.
“Stop it, Deli,” he ordered, irritation making his voice just a tiny bit less doctor-like. He might even pass for a normal human being with normal human emotions if I pestered him further.
“But, Lucian, it’s just a harmless fair—”
“I mean it, Deli. Stop it. You’re starting to look like a goldfish and it’s creeping me out.” And then he was snapping his Financial Times open, which ended the discussion as far as he was concerned.
Dyvian frowned and shook his head. “I don’t agree. I think you looked more like Nemo when you were doing that.” He fluttered his lashes, which were ridiculously long like his brother’s.
“Do me a favor, will you?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Mind your own business. Please?” I fluttered my lashes. “Pretty, pretty, please?”
“You should just ask me instead,” he advised. “I’ll be more than happy to go with you and Audrey to the fair.”
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Is that so? Well, the last thing I’ve heard, Lucian here still hasn’t officially—”
Lucian lowered his newspaper just enough to give his brother a warning glance. “Enough.” He turned to me, saw me still fluttering my lashes hopefully, and just…grunted before hiding himself again behind his beloved newspaper.
Dyvian smirked and returned his attention to the latest gossip Ryan Seacrest was sharing on television.
I jumped off the settee and perched my hip on Lucian’s armrest. “Please, Lucian, please, pretty, pretty, please—”
He sighed and folded his paper back. “Let’s make a deal. I heard you failed your quiz in History—”
I scowled at Dyvian. “It’s his fault. He lived through the Civil War and when I asked for help—”
Lucian’s raised eyebrow was enough to silence me. “Do you want this or not?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“What’s the name of Abraham Lincoln’s assassin? Give me the right answer and I’ll go.”
“Mark—”
Dyvian hooted. “That’s John Lennon’s assassin, Deli.”
“I rest my case.” Lucian lifted his newspaper back to eye level, and this time it stayed there.
~~~
I tried one last time a few hours later. Deciding to ambush him in his study, I skipped to his table and asked casually, “How do I look?”
Lucian put down his pen and pushed his checkbook aside, giving me his full attention.
I espied the organizations he was donating money to and was flattered to note that he was giving me preference over Brangelina’s foundation. If I worked hard enough at being his perfect girlfriend, maybe he’d even place me above world peace on his priority list one day.
His eyes traveled all over me from head to toe. I had curled my hair and worn a pink, lacy headband to accessorize my fuchsia mini-dress and chunky three-inch-heeled leather boots.
“Well?” I demanded when he continued to observe in silence.
He said finally, “You look nice,” and returned his attention to writing out checks.
It was difficult to extract pleasure from his words when he had spoken them like a medical diagnosis. I decided to think he was just shy and what he really meant was I was too beautiful for him to look at.
Lucian coughed but didn’t look up. There was an absent-minded air about him now. He was doing his all-time favorite activity—thinking. And though it also meant he was close to forgetting I was even present, the frown of concentration on his face only made him more gorgeous in my eyes.
Why did I love this guy so much?
He rarely had time for me, and yet, I still didn’t mind if I had to wait the whole day just to have
a minute alone in his arms.
He should have been too silent for comfort, but instead, I found his one-word-per-minute style cute.
Unless he was making me breathless with his kisses, he treated me like a bratty younger sister he was inclined to ignore.
He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend but…he made me feel safe. He never made me feel ashamed I was occasionally the opposite of a brainiac, and he did lots of little things for me just to make me smile or feel better.
I sighed loudly and sat across him.
“The puppy eyes and the sad face won’t work, Deli.”
“I just want to be with you.”
“The pouting won’t work either,” he informed me without looking up or pausing from his writing.
“Lucian.” When he didn’t answer, I raised my voice. “Lucian.”
“What?”
I was intent on asking him to go with me one last time, but my lips seemed to have another idea. “I love you.”
If I had expected Lucian to be overcome with passion at the words, I would have been vastly disappointed. But I didn’t and I giggled when the words only made Lucian still as a statue. And then he was raking his hand self-consciously through his hair, asking briskly, “Do you have enough money for tonight?” He took out his wallet and began counting out notes.
I planted my hands on my hips. “I know you have a hard time trusting people, especially women, but I shan’t be defeated. I know you love me, Lucian. I just know.”
“Deli, please.” He handed me a couple of bills and pointed to the door. “Now, go.”
Walking backward to the door, I encouraged him, “Come on, Lucian, it’s not that hard to say. Follow me. I. Love—”
“Out now, Deli.” But there was a smile in his voice.
Laughingly running back, I threw my arms around his neck and placed the sloppiest kiss on his cheek. “I still feel bad you’re not coming with me, but it’s okay, I forgive you.” I nodded with self-righteous generosity against his shoulder.