Twisted City: (Twisted City Book 1)

by Rebekah Vasick

  What kind of man does that? No man that I want anything to do with.

  “Patsy?” I gaze through my lashes at her.

  She turns from Alice and Angelo, giving me her full attention. “Yeah?”

  “Can you tell me more about John?”

  A curve caresses her lips. “Sure. What would you like to know?”

  “Why did he break up with his girlfriend?” I wonder.

  She rolls her eyes before parting her lips. “She was the worst. They were dating before John went into the army, and she promised to stay with him. It wasn't like he was deployed or anything. They saw each other all the time, but that didn't seem to be enough for her. When John broke his back and ended up in the hospital, she told him she met someone else and couldn't be his nurse, and off she went.”

  Maybe it’s witnessing my best friend in the arms of the man I love that imbues my body with compassion for John. Whatever the reason, it is enough to compel me to accept John's desires.

  “Patsy, I think I will go on a date with John,” I tell her.

  A little squeal escapes her lips as she covers the smile behind her hands. “Can we tell him now?”

  I force a smile, though my eyes remain as empty as my heart. “Sure.”

  Within seconds, she retrieves her phone from her bag, and with lightning-fast fingers, taps out a message.

  “There. Sent. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when he reads that.” Her dark eyes glimmer.

  I can't say I feel as happy as she does.

  Not even close.

  In fact, I regret my decision until I peek over her shoulder to find Alice and Angelo kissing just as passionately as before.

  Yes, I made the right choice. I must move on.

  As my mind acknowledges the day of my date with John has arrived, a flurry of butterflies invades my stomach. Now I have the annoying task of figuring out what to wear.

  I amble over to my wardrobe, cloaked in a white towel with another wrapped around my head. A sense of déjà vu clouds my thoughts as I scrape the hangers along the rail, to discover none of my silk dresses seems appropriate for a first date with John.

  “I've seen that look before,” Alice's soft voice drifts over from my doorway.

  I turn to find her leaning against the door frame with her arms folded across her chest. Another bout of déjà vu, as she's dressed in the same jeans and t-shirt, with the cat on the front, from the day of my audition.

  “I've got nothing to wear.” I pout.

  She heaves herself from the door frame and ambles over to me. “What are you talking about? Your wardrobe is fit to burst with clothes.”

  “I have nothing suitable to wear,” I rephrase. “If he was taking me to some fancy restaurant, then yes, I have plenty of dresses to choose from, but he's not, and jeans and a hoodie don't seem appropriate either.”

  “Where's he taking you?”

  “He wouldn't say. Only that I had to wear something warm and semi-formal,” I sigh.

  “Wait here. I might have something for you.”

  If she comes back with her blue dress, I must entertain the idea that I've somehow transported to the twilight zone.

  She returns with clothing draped over her arm, but not her blue dress. “Here,” she says, handing me the array of purple material.

  After unravelling the mix of purple, I discover it's her gypsy skirt and top. A slight curve caresses my lips, as I've always admired this outfit. The long skirt has five thick horizontal stripes of different shades of purple. The top is white with purple embroidered stitching.

  “I'm leaving before you get dressed though,” she says, escaping my room before I can respond.

  I giggle as the memory of the peep show I gave her four months ago enters my mind. I can't say I blame her for the hasty retreat, though I had no intentions of subjecting her to something like that ever again.

  After putting on the clothing, I stand before my full-length mirror to admire myself. Though it will never be as exquisite as any of my dresses, I admire the subtle beauty of the skirt, reaching down to my ankles, and the top that drapes around my shoulders.

  “Are you decent?” she calls from behind my bedroom door.

  “Yeah, come in.” I turn towards her as she enters with her makeup case. “How did you know I would ask for your help?”

  One corner of her mouth curves. “Funny, Eva.”

  I meander over to my bed and perch myself on the edge.

  As she opens the case, the familiar scent of chemicals and perfumes pervade the air.

  “So, madam,” she begins. “What will we be doing with you today?”

  She runs her fingertips through my damp hair.

  “Oh, I was thinking a little off the sides, maybe a bob?”

  Her fingers pause, entangled in my locks. “You want me to cut your hair?”

  I giggle. “No, I thought we were role-playing.”

  “We were, but I was expecting you to tell me how to style it.” She resumes combing my hair with her fingertips.

  “Alice, how long have we lived together now? Six months? Seven?”

  “Seven.”

  “And you still haven't learned that I'm clueless with hair and makeup? My version of styling my hair is tying it back in a hairband, and as for makeup, a chapstick.”

  “Okay, are we impressing this guy?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to go formal or casual?”

  I chew on my lip. “Casual, I guess.”

  “Then I suggest we tie your hair back in a hairband and add chapstick to your lips.”

  I giggle. “I think that's a little too casual.”

  “How about I straighten your hair and add a little eye makeup?”

  “That sounds perfect, thank you.”

  “That will be $30.”

  While laying my palm flat on the bed, I twist my torso to face her. “How about all the details of my date, instead?”

  She crosses an arm over her chest while tapping her finger on her pouting lips.

  “Yeah, seems suitable payment,” she says before working on my hair and makeup.

  Once she's finished, she hands me a mirror, waiting for my approval. As I twist my head, inspecting my appearance, I notice she has parted my hair on the left before tucking it behind my ears. I flutter my lashes alluringly, making Alice laugh.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  I lower the mirror before turning towards her with a wide grin. “I'm practicing being you.”

  She continues giggling. “What?”

  “Well, you have those natural alluring eyes, but I have to fake mine.”

  She clutches her stomach as she laughs harder. “I seriously hope I don't look like that.”

  I cover my mouth with my hands as I join her laughter. A trickling of tears release from the corners of my eyes.

  “Oh no, my makeup will run,” I say between giggles.

  Though she's still amid her own laughter, she uses a tissue to absorb the remaining moisture. “There, you're fine now. Just don't cry anymore or you'll have black streaks down your face.”

  In unison, we release a contented sigh.

  At five o'clock, the buzzer sounds.

  “Hey, Eva,” John's voice crackles through the intercom.

  “Hi, John. I'll be right down.”

  I turn towards Alice, who has settled herself on the sofa.

  “Well, I guess I'm off,” I say as I put on my leather jacket.

  “All right, have fun.” A slight smile caresses her lips.

  As I add my winter accessories, a feeling of foreboding comes over me and I have the sudden urge to cancel my plans with John.

  Watching Alice with her hair tied back in a messy bun and her face slathered in a mud mask seems far more appealing than enduring a night alone with a man I'm still uncertain of.

  But it's too late for that.

  I banish the thought and gather my bag.

  “Have fun, Alice,” I call out as I leave the
apartment.

  The crisp air seeps through my leather jacket the moment I step outside and I shiver. I hope John chose inside activities for tonight's entertainment.

  To my surprise, I find John leaning against his car with his arms folded across his chest instead of waiting in his warm car. He's dressed in black slacks with a black pair of loafers and his gray jacket. Once again, he’s attempted to imitate Angelo's hair. I don't have the heart to tell him it doesn't suit him.

  Though John's attire is smart, I still find no obvious attraction to him, unlike his for me as his eyebrows raise.

  “Wow, you look amazing,” he says as I make my approach.

  He heaves himself away from the car and opens his arms to envelope me. He tightens his arms around me, a little too tight for my liking. What's worse, he plants a sloppy, wet kiss on my cheek.

  Once I’m liberated from his embrace, I wait until he averts his eyes before using my palm to dry my cheek.

  He opens the door and I slide into the tiny confinements of his car.

  Already, I miss Angelo's Shelby. I even miss his manic driving. I watch John as he circles his car, but I avert my gaze once he slides into the driver’s seat.

  “Ready?” he asks, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It's a surprise,” he says, raising his eyebrows briefly.

  I’ve never enjoyed surprises, but I doubt I'll be successful drawing information from John.

  He starts the engine, and we begin our slow journey to the secret destination.

  I stare out of the passenger window and count the seconds between each streetlight. It takes at least ten seconds before the next one passes. In Angelo's car, they formed a continuous line. If John plans to take me to a restaurant, we probably had to leave at five to make a seven o'clock reservation.

  A gentle tap on my thigh draws my attention away from the streetlights and I look at my leg to find John's open hand resting on my thigh, waiting for my hand. For the first time, I observe the callouses on the palm of his hand and hesitate a moment to press my skin against his. As my fingertips glide across his palm to lace our fingers, I feel each rough patch of skin.

  Back in the movie theater, when I first held his hand, I felt slight electricity wander between our touch. Now, I feel as empty as I did the night Clyde kissed me. But I must evict Angelo from my heart. I have to allow a little more time for something to blossom between John and me.

  There is no console between the seats of John's car, only the emergency brake. This leaves only two places to rest our hands. John elects to rest our hands on his thigh. He tugs me further over to his side. I'd rather we release our hands so I can sit a little more comfortable. But as I attempt to retract my hand, his fingers tighten around mine, holding them in place.

  The first of the icy tendrils slither around my spine. With my free hand, I rest my bag on my lap and rummage around inside it until my fingertips detect my phone. Though I ignore the nagging voice inside my head, I'm grateful to find my phone resting in my bag instead of on my nightstand where I left it the night before.

  I didn't believe it was possible for John to drive any slower, yet as we pull into the parking lot, the speed limit is ten miles per hour. I glance over to the speedometer and discover we're doing five.

  As I gaze out the windshield, I notice the large domed building ahead of us and contemplate exiting the car and meeting John there.

  A curve emerges on my lips as I recall the recent movie Patsy and I watched.

  The protagonist leapt from a speeding car and barrel rolled to safety, though I'm sure I wouldn't have to do anything as drastic as that. I could probably step out the car and close the door behind me as if the car was sitting in a parking space.

  Thankfully, John hasn't witnessed my smirk, and better still, he’s released my hand to use both of his on the wheel. I guess he can't be too careful driving around all these parked cars at such great speeds.

  As soon as the car stops, I exit and stretch out my aching limbs. Another thing I miss about Angelo's Mustang: the luxurious seats.

  “Ready?” John asks, extending his open hand towards me.

  I approach him and anticipate sliding my hand into his like we did in the car. He surprises me as he slips his hand behind my back to rest it on my hip, closing the gap between us.

  “Can we hold hands instead?” I ask in a timid voice.

  For a moment, he remains silent, staring at me as he scrutinizes my face, though I'm unsure what he's searching for.

  “Sure,” he says as he releases me, and slides his hand in mine. “You’re going to love this place.”

  That's a little presumptuous, considering we've only known each other a month, and I've spent more time with Patsy than I have him. Patsy filled me with an encyclopedia of information about John, but he still barely knows anything about me.

  Once inside the building, I scan the expansive room that resembles a semi-circle with the ceiling at least twenty feet high. People mill around, looking at posters on the walls while others sit on benches. John leads me towards a small booth where we join the back of the queue.

  “You'll want to take your coat off before we get inside,” he says.

  I nod my head to acknowledge him and continue gazing around the room for clues of where we are. The posters are too far for me to scrutinize, and with John's grip on my hand, I'm doubtful he would allow me to investigate alone.

  “For another five dollars, you can have a program,” says the high-pitched voice of a girl once we reach the front of the line.

  My eyes widen when I turn to face her and find it’s a middle-aged woman who owns the voice.

  “No thanks,” John says. “Just two tickets.”

  Really? He doesn’t want to spend an extra ten dollars to get programs? I know he’s not well off, but still. I didn’t think he was that stingy.

  I'm further surprised when John continues holding my hand as he fumbles with his wallet to pay the woman.

  I furrow my brow and chew on my lip as the nagging voice returns.

  Careful with him, Eva.

  We amble towards the second booth and I wonder how I'll remove my jacket if John refuses to remove my restraint.

  A young girl holds her hand out to accept our coats. John sheds one arm from his coat and only as he’s shaking himself out of the other sleeve does he free me so I can do the same. I procrastinate in removing my jacket as I'm not ready to have our hands fused together again.

  Before he seizes me again, I fumble around in my bag for nothing.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I lift my eyes to greet him. “Yes, can't wait.”

  I sigh before securing my bag over my shoulder and accept my fate of our hands being joined together again. I cling to the strap as we meander over to the double doors, feeling the need to prepare myself for the worst.

  Once we cross the threshold, I gasp as I behold the surprisingly beautiful surroundings.

  All around us is greenery and jungle flowers. I tilt my head as my gaze follows the length of the gigantic trees.

  A twittering causes me to abandon the trees and search for what made the sound and I discover a vibrant green bird, perched on a nearby branch.

  Amongst the beauty, the heat is insatiable. No wonder John warned me to remove my jacket. The thick humidity catches in my throat and I have to pause for a moment to take gentle breaths.

  “You okay?” John asks.

  “Yes. This is incredible,” I say truthfully.

  “I knew you would like it.”

  John lets go of my hand, but then rests his hand on the small of my back. I allow it as he guides me along the dirt path.

  My wide eyes dart around, drinking in all the splendor. A large peace lily lives alongside the path. My hand flutters towards its leaves, larger than both of my hands together, and caress the leaf to convince myself it is real.

  “Eva,” John whispers.

  I turn my head towards him
though he’s looking at something ahead of us. I follow his gaze and watch a brilliant blue bird waltzing across the path. I gasp as my eyes widen and my mouth hangs agape.

  The bird, the size of a Jack Russell Terrier, pauses for a moment to groom its plumage, blissfully unaware, or unfazed, that we are within its reach. I slip my arm around John's back and lean against his shoulder. Once the bird has finished, it glances at us for a moment, like it is bidding us a good day, and continues on its path.

  “That was amazing,” I whisper.

  John turns to face me and smiles. A glimmer forms in his eyes.

  I scrutinize his features, trying to determine if I have any fondness for him.

  A single butterfly flutters around my stomach, but I can't persuade any feelings to emerge. I see the longing in his eyes, yet I can't force a feeling that isn't there.

  I turn away from him and continue along the path.

  Only for a moment, does John's hand leave my back, but as soon as he's beside me, I feel the warmth of his hand once again.

  The trickling of water catches my attention, yet for now, I can't determine where it’s coming. All around us is the intense greenery of the tall trees and tremendous leaves of foliage.

  “Can you hear that?” I ask John.

  “The waterfall? Yeah, it's just around the corner.”

  I gaze at him like a child would if they discovered they were about to meet Santa Claus. “Can we go now?”

  “Anything for you, love,” he says while gathering my hand to lead me onward.

  I glance down at my feet. The dirt path merges with steppingstones.

  Though we stop, my eyes follow the path until they behold a wooden bridge crossing a large lake. Continuing further along the path, I see a rustic brown cave that obscures my view.

  “Come on,” John encourages as he tugs on my hand.

  The beautiful greenery depletes as we press onward towards the bridge. We gaze into the crystal water. Gentle ripples capture my attention.

  “What's that?” I ask.

  Together, we hold on to the rail of the bridge as we lean over to investigate the cause of the ripples. A great splash before us causes us to jump back and laugh in surprise. We look into the water again and discover a school of koi carp.