by L. J. Woods
“Guys, I haven’t played that thing in years!” Allie flops back in her seat before turning to her dad, crossing her arms. “We were at Waldorfs until eleven.”
“Alejandra,” her mom sighs.
“That’s all you want to do isn’t it, Bianca, spend my money?” Now Hugo’s dropping his fork before Bianca’s going at him in Spanish, Allie slumping in her chair.
“They’re so fucking embarrassing,” she groans. But I can’t help but smile, this is the most normal I’ve felt in an Eden Gardens household since I’ve got here. Even including the constant arguing from Christian’s parents. At least they’re nice enough.
When we’re all finished I help Bianca and Allie clear the table, Christian joining in as Hugo scrolls through his phone again. He’s not as interesting as I thought. He seems like a regular guy. A rich dad who rather hold on to fame than become a family man.
“Alright.” Christian closes the dishwasher, taking the towel off his shoulder. “Now, we’re going upstairs.”
“Are we ever going to talk about why Jo’s here?” Allie asks.
“Alejandra, manners,” Bianca says, taking a dinner roll out of her daughter’s hand. She turns to me. “Now, I know this place seems like the forest from Snow White, but don’t let it eat you alive.” Bianca points the roll at me. “Fitting in is better than standing out, and if you know Christian, you’ll be fine.”
“So what am I? Useless?” Allie asks, Christian pulling my hand to the steps. “And what kind of advice is that?”
“Well, you’re not exactly a socialite,” Bianca responds.
Allie goes into a monologue about how little socialites bring to society but her voice drones off as Christian and I reach the top steps. He pulls me into his room and if Damien’s room is dark, and Isaac’s room is funky, Christian’s room is damn near perfection. In the clinical sense.
This boy is clean, his room mostly decorated in grey and blue and I hate that it immediately reminds me of Damien. While Damien has the one jersey on his wall, sports memorabilia hangs everywhere on Christian’s blue walls. Most are from his dad’s team. Jerseys, pucks, signed gloves and masks. It looks like tens of thousands of dollars worth of merch sits around us.
Taking the folded paper out of my jacket, the police report, a shiver runs through me. God, even this jacket feels different knowing what I know. Sure, it’s comfortable but I wear it because it reminds me of my dad. It lost his scent years ago but it still feels like him. Knowing what I know now though? It feels different. It brings up way too many questions. Like, is there more to my parents than I know? Or are they victims of a violent, unforgivable crime?
“Jo?” Christian’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts. He’s on the grey sofa in the middle of his room, a big TV screen in the built-in unit. He has Superbad cued up on the screen, I can tell by the colours in the intro. “You’ve been staring at that thing for a while. You want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” I say, shrugging off the jacket before flopping on the sofa beside him. “I kinda wanna forget about it all. At least for now.” His brows raise, eyes widening a smidge as he sits up, but I shake my head, slapping him on the knee. “I meant with a movie.”
His shoulders drop and I nudge him. He smiles, the music to the movie starting to play as he raises the volume. “I guess McLovin’s hard to compete with.” He shrugs. “Better than King.”
The mention of Damien still sends my stomach in knots and I’m about to call him on that but there’s a knock on the door.
Allie peeps her head in, hair hanging off her shoulder. “Can I join you?” she asks. “Or is this another date?”
“Not a date,” I say, scooting over to make space. My shoulder squishes into Christian’s side. “Come on.”
My words come out the same time Christian says, “No.”
She comes in anyway, wiggling a little baggie of pot between her purple painted fingers. “I bring gifts. And after yelling at my mom for the last little while, I could use a friend. I’ll even take a brother.”
Christian glances at me before the expression on his face softens. “That’s actually not a bad idea. I’ll get the towels.” He gets up, disappearing through a door while Allie plops on the cushion next to me. She reaches for the book on Christian’s coffee table. When she opens it, a grinder and a pack of papers sit on top of red velvet lining.
I smile, “So you guys do hang out together.”
“Sometimes, I guess,” Allie rolls her eyes, breaking apart a nug into the grinder. The smell of herby fruit mixes with the smell of Christian’s cologne. “But don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep up.”
“That goes both ways,” Christian says, stuffing a fluffy white towel under the door.
Shaking my head, my eyes are on Jonah Hill while the twins help me get settled. Christian even grabs a mickey from below his bed. In a few seconds, Allie lights the joint, giving me the first pass and once I take a puff, it’s like magic.
We pass the joint between us, my head getting fuzzier, my brain feeling lighter as we giggle at the screen. Halfway through the flick, Christian brings out snacks. Oreos and peanut butter and man, I’m in love. With the combination, not Christian, though I’ll admit after today, I’m starting to see him in a new light. Not like Damien’s voice in my head will even let me consider if this could lead anywhere. I can’t even think about being with another guy as long as I’m in his realm.
Our romp in the car comes to my mind and my cheeks heat.
“So,” Allie starts when there’s a lull in the movie. Christian has his arm on the back of the massive couch while Allie’s curled up on her side with a dazed look on her face. “Does King know about this? Cause if he does—”
“Allie,” Christian groans.
“What?” She lets out a baked giggle. “Weren’t you guys a thing?”
Now they’re both looking at me for an answer, but I don’t even know what to say. Or what we are. “Well … ” They don’t let up when I hesitate. “Uh.” Shutting my eyes I dodge the question, only to announce something that could be worse, “He thinks I killed his dad.”
“What!?” Allie asks.
“That’s fucked up,” Christian says, shaking his head. “How can he still say that?”
“That’s insane, right?” Allie asks, her eyes locking on me. “Right?”
“Yes, Allie,” I groan. Of course, it’s insane but Damien seems convinced.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I kept it out for Willow and I’m surprised when Christian reaches for it. “Is that him?” His grip tightens around it before he answers and again, I realize why they call him a King. “Haven’t you done enough? Don’t call back. She’s with me tonight.”
“Uh, woah,” Allie says what I’m thinking.
“Get out,” Christian demands.
“No?” she responds with another high ass laugh.
“Allie, get the fuck out,” he says. “I need to talk to Jo.”
“Not with that temper,” Allie glances at me, so does Christian.
“What the fuck? You know I’m not gonna hurt her. I’d never hurt her. She’ll kick my ass if I try.”
Damn right.
Allie gets up when I nod, grabbing the bag of Oreos as she heads to the door. “Scream for help if you need it.”
When the door closes, Christian moves closer. He pauses the movie before lifting my chin to him, staring me in my eyes. “You can’t see him, Jo.”
My head jerks back. “What is it with guys trying to tell me what to do?”
“It’s for your own good,” he protests. “He treats you like shit. He said you killed his father? What kind of fucked up twisted shit is that?”
“You’re still his friend.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? How? Does he have something on you?”
“No.”
“So you’re threatened by him.” I don’t even know why I’m defending him but having Christian play white knight again is pissing
me off.
“No, I—”
“So what is it? Why are you so concerned with what I do with Damien?”
“Because I care! I care about you, Jo and unlike Damien, I’m willing to fucking admit that. If he wants to let the sexiest, most badass girl to ever set foot in this town walk out of his life then, that’s on him. But, Jo you … fuck, you’re killing me.”
His voice softens, so do the muscles in his jaw and his eyes fall. He takes a moment, a breath as he glances away before he looks at me again. “You’re better than that.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve better than that.” Lifting my chin higher, he moves closer, his lips coming to my face when I freeze.
Christian has a pretty mug. One that’ll go far, but I don’t feel the pull I get when Damien’s in my space, breathing the same air. There’s no thrill, no danger or excitement. It’s nice. But is nice what I want?
“Jo.” He swallows hard, his green eyes on my hazels.“Can I kiss you?”
Eleven
Christian searches my eyes, waiting for an answer.
When I don’t give him one, my brain trying to process it all, he leans in closer. But before he closes the distance a teardrop lands on my cheek.
Am I crying?
He notices, pausing before he moves back. “Shiiit. Jo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Fuck.” It looks like he’s panicking, scrambling for a tissue while he mutters to himself in Spanish. I try to shake my head but the tears stream down now and it’s not because of Christian.
There’s so much more going on in my head. So much more than I’ll ever be able to share with him.
Damien is as dark as his past, as tortured as his reality, as brooding as my present. While we’re from different walks, Damien gets it. I’m not sure if Christian ever will.
“I’m so sorry, Jo,” Christian says again and he looks it, eyes narrowed on mine.
“No, it’s fine.” I’m finding my words again. “It wasn’t you. It’s been a lot lately.”
“Well, I’m okay if we act like that never happened and we finish my sister’s weed while we finish this movie. We can get super high and throw on Pineapple Express after this.”
I smile, dabbing at my eyes. “Sounds like a plan.” That’s exactly what I need right now.
He starts rolling up a joint, tapping ‘Play’ on the remote while I wipe my tears. Christian’s a good friend. But that’s all we’ll ever be. And that makes me miss Damien so much more.
* * *
“Jo?”
I’m woken up to the smell of Christian’s cologne and … eggs?
With one eye open there’s a plate in my face, what looks like an omelette sitting on top. It’s even garnished with some green herbs.
“Thought you could use some breakfast,” Christian’s smile comes into view next. “I know I do after a night of being stoners.”
When both eyes are open, I’m reminded of where I am. Sunlight pours into Christian’s bedroom and I can even hear a bird chirping. When I sit up, I realize I’m in a bed with blue and white sheets. Christian’s bed.
“Don’t worry,” Christian pulls a wooden tray from the side of the bed, setting it up on my lap before he rests the plate on it. “After you fell asleep, I took the couch.”
“Wow, Christian,” I say, still adjusting to the morning. “It’s like the Perez Inn. Thank you.” I didn’t think my stomach would be grumbling but after all that weed, I’m drooling for this meal. “Your mom made this omelette for me? That’s so sweet of her.”
Christian stops in his tracks and that’s when I realize he’s only in a towel. It falls below that patch of hair that Nate calls a “happy trail” and now I see why. It’s as if he’s teasing me, punishing me for not jumping on that advance last night.
“My mom?” Christian’s shaking up a smoothie, climbing into bed as he uncaps the mason jar. “I made that. And it’s a tortilla. It’s egg and potato, but I added my secret ingredient. Cheese.”
“You’re making me breakfast and we didn’t even bone?”
“We can still change that.” He doesn’t look like he’s joking when he gives me that smouldering stare. One I’m sure is usually reserved for girls from the Supreme Squad.
“Okay there, Romeo.”
Nudging him with my knee, he laughs it off, his eyes dropping to the scar on my arm. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. How’d you get that scar?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “What?” Shoving the fork into the fluffy eggs, I push a big bite in my mouth.
He raises an eyebrow, pointing his mason jar to my arm. “Your scar. It’s like the one King has. Even has his buried in tattoos.”
“Oh,” I say through my very slow chews, telling him to hold on with an index finger.
While he waits, my phone vibrates beside me, Christian’s eyebrows lowering as he takes a chug of the green stuff in his glass. Saved by the buzz. Reaching over, I’m even more relieved when I see who texts.
Willow: Meet you at school! xo
“It’s my sister.” I’m saying my words through another bite of food, not mentioning the number of calls from Damien. I’m not fuelling that fire this soon. I want to tell Christian how good this is but instead, the question on my mind comes out first. “You gonna talk to him today?” I’m talking about Damien.
“Are you?” he fires back.
To be honest, I don’t know.
Damien could help me find more answers to what’s turning into a murder mystery. But can I trust him? Looking at the phone in my hand I glance at the time. Eight o’clock. “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?”
Christian glances at his phone and agrees, “Yeah, you’re right.” He hops off the bed, leaving me to finish the breakfast he made. “Do I get the pleasure of seeing you in one of my uniforms this time?”
“Another mark on my record is exactly what I need,” I say, my sarcasm ripe for the morning. This morning is nice. No Vincent herding us along like cattle and I’m not staying in bed, tired until the very last minute. It’s hard not to laugh again when Christian waggles his eyebrows. “Best I borrow something from Allie.”
He smiles. Another charming one and God, it’s damn near heartbreaking. As if she heard her name there’s a rattle on the door, Allie’s voice coming through, “Is Jo still here? Or did you scare her away?”
“Almost!” I call.
The door opens and Allie’s behind it, already in her uniform. Most of it anyway. She’s swapped her green blazer for another hoodie.
“Should I worry that you still are?” she asks, lowering her black frames on her nose.
Christian throws a lighter and it lands on her head, falling to the floor. “Give her your uniform,” he demands.
“Should I start ordering extras for you?” she asks with a smile. “I suppose you’re riding with me this morning too?” She dangles her keys from her finger.
“Nope,” Christian says, pulling on his white shirt. “Today she’s riding with me.”
* * *
This morning is one for the books.
Easy-going. Chill. Relaxed.
Hell, even Christian’s gardener told me to have a good day.
But when we get to school, I’m not sure how long the calm will last.
Damien’s waiting for us when we get through the gate and he’s not at the top of the stairs this time. Not holding court with his crew. He’s pacing back and forth in the parking lot, coin between his fingers, leather jacket on his shoulders. And when he sees me in Christian’s Jag, he looks ready to kill.
Once I’m out of the car he approaches, grabbing me by my arm, I hold back but he doesn’t let go. “We’re leaving.”
“Damien, I have class,” I protest, my body on fire in his hold again. “Unlike you, I need good grades to get into university.”
“I’ll handle it,” he growls.
“I don’t need you to.”
Christian’s out his car now, “King—”
“I swear to god, Perez
if you take one step closer to me, there’s gonna be a goddamn bloodbath.”
“Spoken like a true murderer.” Christian tenses up.
“Stay the fuck out of this!” Damien yells.
We’re drawing a crowd and I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to attend this academy like a normal student. Or is this my new normal? “Damien, stop.”
He whips his head towards me, hair flopping in front, eyes a stone-cold gaze. “Do you want to find out who killed your parents or not?”
Wait. “What?”
“We’re going to the lakehouse.” Taking my arm, he’s pulling me towards his Lambo and I’d pull away again if it didn’t feel so damn good. “If my dad has something about my aunt and your parents, it’s there.”
The minute he says “my parents” I’m forgetting about classes and schoolwork. Even the scholarship slips my mind. “Okay.”
My lack of fight seems to startle him too, Damien loosening his grip as he stops, a glance at me.
“Okay?” Christian asks from behind us. “Really?”
I understand where he’s coming from. Not only does getting good grades mean the world to me and my future right now, but so does finding out about my parents. I need to know if Sebastien King had something to do with it. Did Cindy?
And, most importantly, why?
“Jo?” That voice I can recognize in a mob. My sister.
When I turn around I confirm it’s Willow. I also confirm we have an audience.
“Hey,” I force a smile in her direction. Bella and Jordan are on either side and I can’t tell her what’s going on. Not with those two there. Not with people watching. Especially not with Jordan Huang. “I’ll be back. Go to Christian if you need anything, okay?”
“What’s going on?” She looks worried and I hate that.
So I crack a bigger smile. “Nothing! I’m fine. Boy drama.”
Willow wrinkles her nose and I know she knows there’s more to it but I’m happy she doesn’t pry.
“Get in the car, Jo,” Damien growls from the driver’s seat, Lambo already running.