“Yeah. Good.” To be fair, Calvin looked as bored as I felt. I loved my pops, but these events? Not so much.
My dad watched our exchange with a creeping frown. “You two already know each other?”
“We go to the same university,” said Calvin.
“We’re both part of the figure skating club,” I added.
My dad looked quickly at Calvin with a raised eyebrow “You are?”
The older guy with the toupee puffed his chest, clearing his raspy throat. “Calvin is a whizz on the ice, you should see him.” He waved his hand in the air. “Sure, hockey would have brought in the big bucks, and hell, we all love a good fight between teammates, but hey-ho. Can’t win ‘em all, eh?”
Calvin grinned at me. He was like a different person in a tux. He looked good, with a light brown comb-over that could rival my dad’s, and subtle muscle definition underneath his jacket formed by years of grueling work on the ice. It took strength to throw a female body up in the air every week.
My dad looked down at me with pinched lips. “You sure can’t,” he said.
I was ready for a comeback but Calvin stepped up to me and tipped his head to the side, nodding to the exit. “You wanna come outside with me? I hate wearing a tux, it’s too warm in here.”
“Go ahead,” said my dad. He pulled me back as I started to walk away. “But don’t you dare leave,” he whisper-hissed into my ear.
I flashed him a bitter-sweet smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Oh, and FYI, this is not your party. If I wanted to leave, Pops would be fine with it.”
Elena was gliding across the dance floor, her eyes on a wild search.
“One second,” I said to Calvin, changing course to see if something had happened.
I mean, Pamela was here. Anything was possible.
I stepped around couples who were dancing to the bagpipes and tapped my fingers against her arm. “Elena?”
“Oh. There you are.” She smiled, a slight falter when she assessed me and Calvin together.
I made the proper introductions, not wanting either of them to mistake me for rude. “This is Calvin,” I said. “Calvin, this is Elena. My dad’s girlfriend.”
“Pleasure,” said Calvin, offering Elena his hand.
“It certainly is,” she agreed. “Um, Angel. There’s someone here to see you.”
Her eyes widened with a hidden message and I groaned internally. “Oh god, really?”
“It’s not that bad, is it? He’s waiting outside.” She smiled at me. “He’s attracting quite the crowd. I would hurry if I was you.”
<>
Elena wasn’t wrong. Julian sat outside on the wall of the wide steps, his hands buried in his pockets. Not three feet away stood a huddle of teenage girls with their fingers wrapped around crystal glasses and their eyes all uncontrollably wandering over to the guy who was wearing sweats to a formal event.
His head turned when I opened the doors and the smile died on his lips when he saw me. I gathered up one side of my dress to stop from standing on it, and descended the stairs to meet the intruder.
I gave him a hard stare, not that he looked bothered. “I told you not to come here.”
He narrowed his eyes, making me feel like I was under assessment. “You got rid of the blonde. Good choice.” He looked passed me at Calvin. “Who’s he?”
“Don’t be so rude,” I said, glaring at him.
But Calvin was undeterred. He stood next to me, his grin nearly as wide as his face. “Julian Lawson.” He said his name like it was a personal achievement, staring at Julian in a suspended wonderment. “Is it Julian, or Hulian?”
Julian—or Hulian—looked at me with a deadpan expression and laughter trickled from my lips. “It’s Seven to you.” He might as well have growled the words. “Hulian? Seriously, who is this guy?”
“I’m Calvin. I’m part of the figure skating club. Angel’s new partner, actually.”
“That explains it.”
“Shut up,” I said, in Calvin’s defense. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Calvin was either really nice or oblivious to Julian’s immediate dislike of him. “Nineteen rushing touchdowns last season, twenty-eight passing. Dude, you are legend. Can’t wait to make the playoffs again this year.”
“Yeah,” was all Julian said. No smile, no thanks, no nothing. Just… yeah.
“Man, it’s so great to meet you.”
“He’s not a celebrity,” I truthfully pointed out.
“Yeah, he is,” Calvin corrected me.
Julian didn’t deserve his adoration, it was sickening.
He leaned over, his hands still pressed into the pockets of his sweats. “I am a pretty big deal.”
I didn’t have time for this. “What do you want?” I asked. I had no shawl and the air wasn’t as warm tonight.
“Thought you might want to bail.”
“And why would you think that?”
“Because, babe, I looked in there and there is a guy wearing a skirt.” The top corner of his lip turned up, exposing a dimple.
“It’s a kilt.”
“It’s a skirt. Are you Scottish?”
“No,” I said, exhaling for patience. “It’s the band. It’s a Scottish band. You know, bagpipes…”
“And skirts.” Julian grinned.
Asshole.
“Whatever. I don’t care. I can’t bail, my dad would go mental.”
“I’ll cover for you. Say you got sick or something.” Calvin shrugged, thinking he was helping me out like we were old friends.
“No thank you. I have got no intentions of leaving.”
“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” I couldn’t tell if Julian was joking. He was still wearing that evasive smirk.
I crossed my arms, allowing the boredom to wash over my face. Julian turned his head towards Calvin and he stuttered when he realized he was talking to him. “Uh… yeah. She does. She’s beautiful.”
“This your date?” Julian asked me.
“No.”
“Skating partner,” said Calvin. “We’ve got our first show of the semester tomorrow, you should come watch.”
“I should, shouldn’t I?” Julian was looking at me.
That wasn’t coming through as the best idea.
“Do what you want. Are you coming in?” I said to Calvin.
He looked at me. “What about—”
“He’s leaving,” I said, shooting Julian a warning look. “Aren’t you?”
“Taj is in the car,” he said.
So he played dirty. He would willfully make me out to be the bad one here, as if I was rejecting his little brother. “I’m not saying no to Taj, I’m saying not you. Anyway, I can’t leave,” I said, softening. “It’s too early. And even though pops help give life to my dad, I kinda like him. A lot.”
“I’ll be home all night.”
“Good to know.”
Julian’s cell beeped from his pocket, and I became acutely aware of Calvin still standing next to me. Julian pulled out the phone and read something on the screen. He seemed irritated by whatever he had seen and I used that moment to leave and get back inside.
“Are you coming?” I asked Calvin.
“Sure. Good luck with the season,” he said to Julian. “Not that you need it.”
“Thanks, Callum.”
“Calvin,” I scolded. “Calvin!”
“That’s what I said.”
“Calvin, I’ll meet you inside. I need to talk to Julian.”
When he was through the doors, I dragged Julian to his feet and around the corner behind the full, red maple trees for privacy. Calvin might have left, but the group of girls still stood united.
“Why did you come here?” I asked. “To be rude to my friend?”
Julian scoffed. “Friend? You don’t have any.” I stared at him, not in the least bit deterred by his harshness. Still, it was hard to keep all hurt out of my eyes. It was still a dick thing to say.
“I didn’t mean
it like that,” he said, backtracking. “But I know he isn’t your friend, or I’d have met him already.”
I laughed. “You think I tell you everything? We would never have even have hung out if it wasn’t for this goddamn stupid assignment. You know that, don’t you? What gives you the right to treat people that way? Just when I start to think you’re okay, you pull out all the stops to prove that you are nothing but an asshole with an ego that has been inflated one too many times. You really should keep a closer eye on that in case it bursts.”
Julian stood silent, watching my rage with consideration. “You want to use the assignment as an excuse for wanting to be around me? That’s cool. It’s bullshit, but it’s cool.”
“No, you’re right. It was your lame-ass chat up lines. They melted my heart.”
Julian snickered, his dark blue eyes chiding me. He came close, his chest like a wall in front of my face. I looked up, away from the hard lines of his muscle. “You fight me because you’re are frightened of what will happen if you don’t.” I nearly swallowed my tongue. “Yeah, I see right through you, Angel. Your lips are saying one thing, but your body is telling me something else. I don’t know what’s got you so afraid, but I wish you would hurry up and get over it.”
My eyes were glued to his lips, and I found myself with nothing to say back. No sassy comment, no insults, not even a rebuttal. His cell rang out again and I felt the air between us like a block of ice when he stepped away, his sigh loud despite the music that could be heard from the Great Hall. “I need to go,” he said, already backing away.
He was halfway across the gardens when I called out, “Julian!” he turned, stalling. “Why did you come here?”
It was a loaded question.
“To see you,” he called back, his answer so incredibly simple.
21: Angel
THE WHOLE SEATING layout had been changed to small, round tables spaced around the outsides of the ballroom floor, and the lighting lowered to see in the rest of the night now that everyone had eaten. Marilyn had just left and I sat alone, watching everyone else dance to a slow, classical song, skirts sweeping across the floor with elegance that only a party of this standard could offer.
I wished for faster, more soulful music, a beer and the chance of something truly wild happening. I was the hardworking, good girl who had managed to put school and ice skating before anything else, trying so hard not to end up like my mom or my dad. I’d lost myself this past year, to Jordan, to idealistic standards. Since starting BU I wondered if I wasn’t actually that person at all. Maybe I had been acting, and now I had felt a little bit of reckless in my life, I wanted more.
The idea of not putting everything I had into my school work and figure skating was giving me mild heart palpitations. It was too late to start out on a new course. I mightn’t want the Olympics, but that didn’t mean I had to go crazy.
My dad caught me in deep thought and excused himself from the man he was talking to and got up from the table. He pulled out the seat next to me and put down his champagne between us. One of the waiter’s walked behind us, back straight with his tray held high. My dad stopped him and retrieved him of two flutes of champagne. He gave one to me and put the other next to his half empty glass.
I looked at the drink and then my dad. “You’re allowing me alcohol?” This smelled like a trap.
“If it will help you cheer up.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Can’t you be happy with that?”
“Drink the damn champagne, Angel. I won’t allow you another glass.”
I did want the champagne with the ripe, red raspberry sitting at the bottom of the glass, immersed in bubbles.
I took a sip and my dad did the same. “I appreciate you staying the whole night,” he said, tight-lipped.
“No problem. I wanted to be here. I love Pops, you know I do.”
“And how is dorm life? I never see you anymore.”
You never saw me in the first place. “It’s good enough for me. I have Marilyn and I like my roommate. I like the university. I’m happy.”
He grunted. “You could be happy in a prisoner of war camp.”
“I really wouldn’t.”
“Your expectations are set too low, that’s your problem.”
And here we go…
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You certainly don’t get that from me. That’s all your mother.” My dad slipped me a side glance. “Have you come to your senses about Olga?”
He was starting early.
“I already did. The school coaches are fine. I won’t change my mind. I don’t need to.”
He shook his head with contempt. “I haven’t got time for this. There are one or two important people I invited, so I’ve got some mingling to do. Excuse me.”
I drank mine and his champagne. I had the perfect place where I would like to shove the empty glass. My dad’s niceness had lasted the whole of two seconds and like he said, he had mingling to do. With important people. Myself not being one of them.
<>
The party was almost over. I sat next to Pamela while she ran me through the significance of the collection of diamonds she was wearing. “And this one—” She lifted the triangle diamond bracelet from her wrist so I could get a closer look. “—this one is actually while gold…”
My phone flashed, my ringtone saving me from this sleep-inducing lesson in precious stones. I faltered, not answering immediately when I saw that it was Jordan. The call rang off and I excused myself to the bathroom. I put the phone by the sink, a few seconds needed to think straight. The phone lit up again and I answered it, speaking slowly. “Hello.”
Music pulsed through the phone before I heard it muffle and Jordan’s voice come through. “Hi.” He had been drinking. A lot from the sounds of it.
“What do you want?” I asked, catching my hesitant reflection in the mirror.
“Did we make a mistake, Angel?”
“We?” The words shot out of my mouth.
“Right now do you know what I am thinking? What I keep thinking?”
“No. Enlighten me.”
“I keep thinking that I love must love you. I think I love you. I want to see you. Can I see you?”
How long had I waited to hear those words? To think it wasn’t the same as hearing it—being sure of it.
“You’ve drank too much,” I said. “Where are you?”
“Out. A bar. I’m having a shit time.”
“Yeah, sounds like it.” He sounded happy. Nothing like he was having a bad night. I wondered who he was with.
“You’re not taking me serious.” The music started up again and then faded out, everything going quiet. “I’ve left the bar. I’m walking home. Meet me at the park on the corner of Mulberry, by my house.”
“I’m busy, Jordan. I can’t.”
“Yes. You can. I have to see you. Give me this chance to put it all right. I was a shit boyfriend, I need you to show me how to be better.”
“You don’t want a girlfriend.”
“Not really. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“I hate not seeing you.”
“You see me.”
“No, I mean I miss being with you. Like, for real. Kissing you, everything.”
“Jordan, what is it you want from me?”
“Meet me. I’m almost at the park now.”
I didn’t know what there was for me to think about. I was going to do it. I was still clutching onto his grip, hanging on for life.
“Okay,” I said.
After I hung up, I called a cab and told everyone I was going home. No one wanted to hear that I was seeing Jordan and no one would be able to stop me.
My stomach was churning the whole ride to Mulberry. It was after eleven, and the streets were empty. I paid the fair and got out, the dark mass of trees behind the wrought-iron gate of the park rustling gently with the breeze. I tried Jordan’s cell when I couldn’t see him, but there was no answer.
I circled the outside, the depths of the park too dark for me to dare step foot inside, and tried his cell a second time. Call after call went unanswered, and under the cold light of the full moon, I felt like the dumbest fucking idiot walking. And the most overdressed.
I had fallen for it.
Again.
He had dragged me out here in the middle of the fucking night, and I had leaped at the opportunity. In good faith that I had no right to have, I called him again.
Voicemail.
Not wanting anyone to see me, I dialed Marilyn, relieved when she picked up.
“Mar, can you come get me?”
“Where are you?”
“Mulberry Park.”
“Uh, why?”
“Just because I am. Can you come or not?”
“Of course. I’m leaving now.”
You don’t realize how important your friends and family are until a guy rips out your heart and throws it right in your face. A black car pulled up with Mario in the driving seat, and I climbed in the back, tears streaking my face.
Marilyn twisted in her seat, the interior light glowing yellow above her. “Angel, what did you do?”
“He told me to meet him here. He said he loved me.”
She looked across at Mario, who started to pull away. Mulberry Park couldn’t get far enough behind me, but I couldn’t help thinking what had happened to Jordan. He’d probably gone to bed, he was that fucking self-centered.
“Is this the end?” Marilyn asked. “Can you finally see him for what he really is?” I put my purse to my mouth and sucked back a wave of tears, my throat rough as I swallowed. “You can’t expect me to sit back and watch him keep hurting you like this.”
I couldn’t speak, I was too choked up.
“I’ll help you through this.”
“I’m so tired. Of everything,” I said, wiping my palm down my cheeks till it was soaked, then switched to the back of my hand.
“He’s gone, Angel. And he doesn’t deserve to be invited back. I wish you could see yourself in this moment, the way that I can. He’s ruling you and you aren’t stopping him. I’m not having it anymore. I’m so dead serious. This has to stop.”
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