by CJ Adler
Dylan coughs to grab my attention. He turns his attention to someone standing behind me, someone oblivious to my three friends watching him carefully. I sigh inwardly when I see him. Now is really not the time.
He can't be here, not when Bells is here too. He might not see her but she will definitely see him. I don't want to get between them, but it's too late for that now. As he stated, he broke things off with her because of me.
This night can't possibly get any worse.
“Aqueela…” Mason drawls out slowly, confused. It's in his hesitance that he seems to notice Dylan too, instantly recognizing him. “You're on a date?”
Sherlock Holmes, ladies and gentleman.
“Yes,” I mutter, turning back to Dylan, hoping that Mason will take the hint and leave.
Mason has been with me all my life, not in a good sense. Nonetheless, he's always been there. As much as I want to resent him, I simply can't. He's a part of me now. Sadly, I cannot turn on people in my life as easily as I had hoped to. Despite everything he's done, I still care—a mistake on my part.
Mason, angered by my answer, scrunches up his eyebrows in distaste. “You weren't supposed to go on your first date with some guy you barely know,” he snaps venomously, his dislike for Dylan now obvious.
I raise an eyebrow at the audacity of him. “Oh? And who are you to make that call?” I ask.
He doesn't answer.
I huff in despair, desperate to defuse this situation before Bells hears everything and disregards me as her friend. “Now's not the time Mason, so just…” I falter in my lecture when Mason takes a seat beside me, interrupting the date.
Oh my cheesecake, he can't be serious!
Mason throws an arm around the back of my chair, possessive. “You're older than Aqueela,” he states, looking over at an infuriated Dylan. “What are your intentions with her? How does she know you're not some—”
I pull away from Mason and place my hand over his mouth before he can finish his sentence. At this rate, it won't be long before Dylan loses it. I can see a fight breaking out soon.
“Why are you here?” Dylan hisses, enraged by Mason's unexpected presence. Dylan turns to me for an explanation when Mason stubbornly refuses to give one. “Is he your boyfriend now or something?”
Ha! Funny!
I'm quick to shake my head as my throat closes up at the mere suggestion.
“No!” I say furiously. “He's still my enemy.”
“Well, for enemies you two look pretty darn snug,” Dylan points out in a matter-of-fact way.
It's then that I notice Mason has inched his way over to me yet again. I react and pull my seat, purposely dragging it away from him. He's acting like a four- year-old. Usually, he's the mature one, not the other way around.
“Well, we're not,” I clarify. “I hate him,” I tell Dylan, making sure that
Mason hears, but whether he does or not, he still continues on with his jealous act.
“I feel the opposite about her,” Mason states, careless, making his true feelings known. “So back off.”
“You're the one that interrupted our date. You back off,” Dylan replies, suddenly standing up, prepared to strike.
Mason gets up as well. When I try to yank him down, he merely brushes me aside.
A fight is definitely about to break loose. I was right about that, I was just wrong about who'd be involved in the fight.
I've been keeping my eyes on Dylan, waiting for him to throw a punch, when I really should have been watching Troy instead. There's a warrior cry from
two tables away. Before I know it, Troy has flung the table aside, exposing the three loons. Max and Bells are both seemingly stunned by his unpredictable actions.
In a split second, it's not Dylan throwing the first punch in Mason's direction, but instead, it's Troy.
My eyes widen as I watch the horror unravel. The only time Troy ever gets serious is when his sister is involved. It's another side to him.
Mason, who'd not seen it coming, merely stands aside and lets Troy give him a beat down, probably realizing that he deserves it. He has always been the type to back down if he knows that it's his fault. That's at least one respectable trait he possesses.
While Troy is mauling Mason's back, Mason himself decides that enough's enough and sends a fist in Dylan's direction. Next thing I know, there's glass shattering, plates breaking, and blood everywhere as the three rip each other to shreds. That might be an exaggeration, but one would get the point, I think.
The manager rushes in and attempts to break up the fight while I run straight to Bells who is crying frantically at the sight of Mason getting pummeled. However, she's more distressed about his confession that she overheard.
I glance toward Max, sending him a pleading look. He realizes what I'm trying to convey, hesitating for a second before wedging himself in the middle of the fight in a futile attempt to stop it.
Dylan accidentally hits Max instead of Mason. Max loses his cool as a result and like a lit fuse, starts targeting both Mason and Dylan. However, Troy is still intent on murdering Mason alone. In fact, I think everyone here is intent on murdering Mason one way or another, including me.
I can't help but wish Jay was here to end this. No doubt he would have.
I try to stop the fight but to no avail. Just as I give in, I hear an unfamiliar shout, unfamiliar because Bells barely ever shouts. She only raises her voice when absolutely necessary.
“Just stop it! All of you, enough!”
Even I freeze at the bitter, pained tone of her voice. Her eyes meet mine and they grow cold. That's when it dawns on me that she is far from pleased, my worst nightmare coming true just like I knew it eventually would.
I've just won the 'No-Bell' prize.
Her face is void of emotion. There's no use in worrying about losing her because I can see that I've already lost her.
***
Twenty minutes later and everyone, except Mase, has stormed off, leaving me to deal with the aftermath.
“Let me take you home,” Maggot insists politely.
Even though I want to go home, I shake my head. It won't feel right letting Mason take me home. I'll feel like I'm betraying Bells all over again.
Still, I can't seem to shake Mase. I know he has a good heart buried under all the muck. “You have a black eye,” I point out, concerned. “A real shiner.”
“I'll be fine,” he assures me. “Trust me, I've taken worse beatings,” he says, taking a seat on the hood of his car. “Let me know when you get home safe.”
I nod, watching him take off. I take out my cell phone and scroll down until I stop at the one name that I always find myself turning to nowadays. It rings only once before he picks up.
“Aqueela? Is everything okay?”
“Can you spare some time to pick up a friend?” I ask timidly. There's a beat of silence before he answers me. “Where are you?” I grin to myself, elated, and immediately tell him.
It's a couple of minutes later when Jay arrives on the scene, pulling up right beside me. He steps out of his Gallardo before rushing over to me. He gives me a once-over before his hard gaze softens a fraction. “What happened?”
I shake my head and look away. “I just lost my entire life.”
He reads into the situation based on what he knows about me. “Bella isn't your life. One person can never be your entire life.”
“I'm sorry that I took you away from whatever you were doing,” I whisper, apologizing for so much more than just that. I take him for granted at times.
He senses the underlining message. “Hey now, you keep me on my toes,” he jokes, doing his very best to cheer me up. “I can't complain, Aqueela,” he assures me in sincerity, not conscious of his actions as he brushes a strand of hair out of my face.
I smile, already feeling a lot better.
“There's that smile that steadily grew on me,” he teases, nudging me playfully.
Please, my smile KO'd him flat.
Jay opens the door to the passenger seat of his car before motioning for me to get in.
I begin to shake my head, fearful.
“Don't worry,” he speaks before I can argue. “I don't plan on taking you home.”
My smile only widens.
This time, I don't hesitate to jump in, no more questions. He starts up his car and soon we're riding in a comfortable silence. For once, I can be content in the silence of the night. Jay is here.
Along the way, my stomach begins to growl. I peek a glance at Jay to see
that his eyes remain fixed on the road. I shift in my seat, facing the window. The trees zoom past. At peace, I close my eyes for a little.
I miss my mom.
I can't be sure how much time passes when someone tugs at my arm roughly. It can only be Jay. He's not the most...affectionate person. “Wake up,” I hear his voice.
I slap his hand off of my arm, wanting to continue on sleeping. “Leave me alone,” I mumble dreamily.
“Wakey wakey, Sleep Walker! Get out before I kick you out myself.”
My eyes fly open at the new nickname rolling off his lips. These days, I pay attention to his threats. He'll do it.
“I don't approve of that name either,” I tell him, stretching my arms out above me before yawning again.
Jay pays me no heed. Instead, he gets out and saunters over to my side of the car, opening my door before surprising me by gently tugging me out.
“Where are we?” I groan once I gather my bearings, coming out of my hazy state.
“McDonald's,” he answers in nonchalance, walking ahead of me.
I walk faster in an effort to catch up with him. “Why are we here?” I ask just as we step into the small building.
“To get you food,” Jay answers casually.
I'm taken aback by his thoughtfulness.
Jay takes the lead and asks me what I want. I happily tell him and he orders it, paying for my food and buying himself nothing. He takes a seat at a table, waiting for me to join. I pause for a second before sitting down across from him.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Jay asks upon seeing my expression.
I prefer simple and casual over a fancy dinner. McDonald's with Jay is perfect. I shake my head, failing to mask my joy. “Nothing.”
He shrugs. “Alright.”
“You're being extra nice tonight,” I point out, savoring my food, no longer starving.
Jay sighs aloud at my words before leaning forward across the table toward me. “Aqueela…” He falters. “I really don't want to bring this up again, but you can't just not talk about it. What happened earlier?”
I saw this coming. At least, he had the decency to hold off for as long as possible. I guess I owe him, of all people, an explanation.
“Mason broke up with Bells because of me. That's what he says. Anyway,
Bell found out tonight when Mason happened to be there too. Troy obviously heard and lashed out at Mason as Mason attacked Dylan. I asked Max to stop it. As it turns out, that just landed Max up right in the middle.” I update him on the latest events of my life. “Honestly, the whole time, I was just wishing for you to be there.”
I don't miss the half smile on his lips.
“Then the manager tried to break up the fight. Nothing worked. Bell lost it and eventually, they stopped. Next thing I know, everyone is raging at me, including Bells. The only one not remotely annoyed with me as of now is Max. Just my luck.” Jay listens attentively as I go on into more detail, never once interrupting.
He only lets out a visible breath of relief once I finally conclude the story. He nods wordlessly, contemplating all that I've said.
“Well—” he averts his gaze, “—if it helps at all, you still have me.”
If I didn't have Jay, I'd be very lost right now. “But you're no Bell,” I remind him on impulse, unsure of what to say.
“And Bell is no Jay Taylor,” he reminds me, in turn.
That, she isn't.
I smile discreetly, trying to hide behind my hair.
Jay notices when I drop the smile at the thought of living a life without Bella Bensten in it. “Look,” he speaks up, “I know you have this incessantly weird bond with Bella, but even if you lose everyone, you'll always have—”
“Jay,” I cut him off, “I already know what you're going to say.”
“Good,” he says quietly.
“Thank you.”
He falls silent, saying nothing more on the topic.
I begin to grow worried when he stares down at the table with a frown on his face. It's times like these where I wish I could read his thoughts. He puts on a façade and lives in a fantasy world where he pretends to be fine but on the inside, he's not. He's not fine.
Eventually, I decide that enough is enough. No more brooding. I take a fry and toss it at his face. “Lighten up, Jay, I'm here.”
A lopsided grin takes over his features as his blue eyes glimmer in hope.
“Yes, you are.”
“So, how come you didn't come spy on me, huh?” I muse. “I was sure the trio would talk you into joining.”
“I don't get talked into things, Aqueela. Besides—” he shrugs, looking anywhere but at me, “—I was dealing with more important things.”
Before I get the chance to question the meaning beyond his words, he has already changed the subject. “So other than the fight, collateral damage, and all your friends resenting you, how was your first date?”
I frown and cross my arms over my chest, giving him a 'what-do-you-think' look. “Terrible. Disastrous. Worst date in all of history, and if you study history you'd know that there are a lot of dates. Do any of those really come close to the actual experience? I think not. There are no words for…” I trail off as something registers in my head. “Wait a sec, how did you know it was my first date?”
Only Bells and Mason knew.
As if expecting my reaction, he graces me with a secretive smile. “I know everything,” he informs me before reaching over the table to steal one of my fries.
***
“Home sweet home,” I say sleepily as I enter Jay's house after first banging open his front door.
He enters from behind, shoving me aside and out of the doorway so that he can get passed. “You realize that this isn't your home, right?”
But it feels like it is.
“I think you're getting a little too familiar around here,” he teases.
I would argue but seeing as I'm currently drinking out of a milk carton that I helped myself to from his fridge, I don't think I'm in any position to. I'll be the walking contradiction again.
He's right. I have got cozy around here. I just feel right at home whenever I step into this house. I can't decipher if it's the house in itself or the fact that Jay always steps into the house with me.
I place the milk carton down before turning back to face him. “But come on, I can be your roomie! How fun will that be?”
“How about no?” Jay replies as he flops down onto the leather couch, making himself comfortable, relaxing after the tiring night. Then again, he missed all the fun—not exactly the correct choice of words.
We fall into a peaceful silence, that is until he breaks it by getting all serious on me. “Hey, Aqueela,” he pauses, meeting my gaze, “why do you hate your home so much?”
“It's not so much my home that I hate,” I reply coldly, closing myself off to him, not wanting to digest such personal information with him just yet.
However, tonight is not my night.
I shiver when a cool breeze blows in through the open windows. I wrap my arms around myself, pulling my knees up to my chin, trying to keep warm. It's only when I glance down that I notice that my cardigan is missing. I glance around frantically, trying to cover the scars with my hair. It must have fallen off or something.
“It came off when you fell asleep in the car,” Jay suddenly says, having noticed my panic, practically reading my mind. “You move a lot in your s
leep,” he adds, holding back on smiling.
I tense and avert my eyes from his in shame.
Out of all people.
“I know, Aqueela,” he says quietly, his hand landing on my own in a gesture of comfort.
I flinch, speechless, as I find the courage to look at him again. “Why didn't you say anything?” I ask, completely unaware that he had noticed earlier.
He purposely keeps his gaze off my arms as if not to offend me. “I didn't want to push you. I figured you'd tell me if you wanted to.”
“I didn't mean for you to see that…”
I stop talking when Jay shrugs off his leather jacket before adjusting the collar of his shirt slightly, exposing his own scar—one that starts from the base of his neck and most likely ends at the upper part of his chest.
“There's a reason why I wear jackets all the time, Aqueela.”
My breath leaves me at the sight. The thought of someone hurting him doesn't sit well with me.
“I won't pretend to know what you've been through, but I'd like to think that we understand each other now.” He opens up, revealing a part of himself to me. He hands me his leather jacket and encourages me to put it on. “If it helps,” he offers.
I smile and eagerly put on his jacket, wrapping myself in his scent and warmth, feeling more at ease again. “The jacket doesn't make the hero.”
Chapter 21
Operation: Bring Bells Back
“Troy, please—”
“I think it's best you leave,” Troy cuts me off like the brat he is. “I'm going to slam the door shut in your face now,” he tells me ahead of time.
“Troy,” I protest, trying to talk him out of it, “don't—” He slams the door shut anyway.
“So that went well,” Jay states sarcastically as I approach him.
“She will barely even look at me, forget talk to me,” I inform him, tired of losing people.
“She'll get over it,” he reassures me and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against his car. “And if she doesn't, then she's stupid.” I turn my head away to smile, touched by his concern. He sees and raises an eyebrow at me. “And that look?”