Resuscitate (Annihilate #1)

by S. Morayla

  “I think I should go.” Her words are nothing more than a murmur. I pull back a bit, never taking my hands off her cheeks.

  “Why?” I ask, my thumb caressing her face, wishing she would open her eyes. “Look at me. Talk to me, love, please.” I feel like an arsehole. I don’t want to hurt her, yet it seems like it’s exactly what I’ve done. She does what I ask and slowly opens her beautiful, despairing eyes. A stinging pain hits my chest.

  “I can’t do this, Zayne. You deserve someone who is not broken,” she whispers, crushing my heart.

  I gather her into my arms. “You’re not broken, Shorty. Lost maybe, but not broken. Then it means you have no hope and are shattered.” I pull back, cupping her face once more, until she lifts her eyes to mine. “Do you know what I see? I see a girl who has had to face obstacles, but is gradually picking herself up. Day by day, your smile is more radiant. Day by day, you’re clawing your way to happiness. If you were broken, you wouldn’t do such things. Everyone has problems. You’d hardly be the first person to have bad things happen in life. How we learn from them shows your true strengths. The tears we shed are the showers releasing the pain in our souls—our souls being the seeds of many flowers. Those flowers, when they bloom, are us, growing, grasping for life. They have their share of rain, but look at the beauty that eventually blooms from that.” Tears slip from her eyes, but she nods.

  “How did you get so smart?” she asks, and I grin down at her.

  “My mum,” I tell her, matter of factly. She sighs, gnawing on her bottom lip.

  “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want, I’m just curious.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “You once said it was hard for you to do relationships. I know you went out with Lexi, was it because of her?” I clear my throat.

  “I’ve had relationships in the past. Some of my past girlfriends were great, and those relationships allowed me to grow as a person. Then, there were the few that were not quite as nice. Lexi,” I sigh. Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees and steeple the tips of my fingers together. “I know people wonder all the time how I ended up with a girl like her. When we first met last year, she was nothing like how she is today. I mean, the gold-digging and constant need for attention did not surface until late in our relationship. By the time I figured all this out, she had slept with half the fraternity house. I think I was more hurt by the fact that I didn’t see her for who she truly was. It was then that I vowed never to allow myself to become involved again. I would pull birds left and right, getting pussy when I need to be satisfied. I didn’t want a serious relationship, I felt I couldn’t trust anyone with my heart. That is, until you walked into my life. I’ve told you I don’t pull birds anymore. You are the one on my mind.” I turn my head toward her so she can see the seriousness in my eyes.

  “I’ve told my mum and sisters about you, even though you drive me crazy with the push and pull. I’ll wait because I know I’ll appreciate and value our relationship that much more.”

  Her eyes widen and a small gasp escapes her lips. “I don’t understand. How can you possibly know if I’d make a good girlfriend?”

  I shake my head as a ghost of a smile spreads across my face. “I see your heart, Natalee.”

  Old Scars/Future Hearts

  It’s been two weeks exactly since Zayne and I kissed. I wish I could say it didn’t make me feel anything, but that would be a lie. I’ve dreamt of his succulent mouth on mine since. Every time I see him, my mind goes back to the kiss. While it was sweet, slow, and soft, I really wanted to deepen it, but I’m glad he stopped. I need to figure me out before I can go further. I need to be sure my shadows and pain can be shared with him, and I’m not quite there yet.

  Dr. Winchester continues to push me, coaxes me to delve deeper and strive harder to free my chains, and I’m thankful to him for it. He’s helping me knock down barriers I thought were impenetrable. Who knew writing “letters” would help me deal with emotions and anger I thought I had let go of long ago? Turns out, they were masked, and now, as they rise to the surface, I’m handling them head on.

  Harrison and I have made a pact, both of us agreeing to move forward and not let our past define our future. We are trying to see the brightness through the grey clouds while gaining insight to the auspicious life before us. I’ve been writing more in addition to helping Harrison with lyrics and melodies. The guys still don’t know it’s me behind the scores they’re practicing. It gives me a sense of accomplishment.

  To watch the band play the notes I’ve arranged, poured hours into, and see it come to life, is remarkable. I especially love when I put together a melody and they write lyrics to it.

  Zayne can already hit high notes, but with a bit more training, he will be able to hit notes without cracking and hold them for a lot longer. These boys have the hunger and passion to catapult them to the top of this competitive music game.

  Adriana, who’s majoring in marketing, has made it her mission gain a following for the guys. She’s been recording them and uploading it to YouTube, and girls flock to their channel in droves. I love her enthusiasm. In the background, Leslie quietly contributes. She’s a fighter, and she will never give up doing what she can for these guys.

  With the holidays here, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost, but I’m determined not to let those emotions overwhelm me.

  Family.

  Turkey.

  Laughs.

  Uncle Victor decided to have Thanksgiving at his condo and my Dad, Nona, and Pop are flying in. Excited doesn’t begin to cover how I’m feeling about seeing my family—especially my dad.

  Thankful.

  Indebted.

  Appreciative.

  I will never be able to tell my Dad thank you enough for pushing me this far. I never intended to come to college, much less make friends. Now that I have both, he will never truly understand how grateful I am to him.

  Leslie is here enjoying dinner with us because her parents decided to go out of the country for vacation. I told Nona I was inviting her, and of course, she said yes. One thing that irks Nona is parents who neglect their children—especially on the holidays.

  I’m surprised she didn’t go with Chance, but he and his parents went to New York and she didn’t want to go. Leslie was going to go with Adriana, but Chance’s lackeys were put on security detail. With it being hard to get into my uncle’s building, we thought it was best for her to come with me so she could enjoy her Thanksgiving.

  “Dinner will be ready soon. All you boys need to wash your hands,” Nona yells out to my dad, uncle, and grandpa. The smell of savory, juicy turkey permeates the condo. I walk out to the dining room, carrying a bowl of mashed potatoes, a gravy boat, and rolls. Nona is right behind me with the turkey. Dad comes around the table, takes the turkey from Nona, and sets it on the table before Pop.

  My Nona is a second generation Italian. Her parents came to the U.S. before she was born. Her family was a heavy influence in her life, which was passed down to my dad and uncle. Family means everything.

  Nona was there for me when my mom left. She gave me great advice that still helps me now. Back then, I was too hurt to understand what she was truly saying.

  Pop is a first generation Italian, born in Corinaldo, Italy. He came to the U.S. when he was seven. My Pop is a year older than my Nona. They met at his parents store when she was sixteen. Nona says when she met Pop, they didn’t like each other. She said he was annoying, but Pop says he always knew she would be his wife. He loved her spontaneity and no BS attitude. I laugh when I think of them being younger. Pop is so quiet and Nona is loud, but in the quiet moments I have witnessed, I see the love that flows through them.

  They are the epitome of a perfect couple. Both my dad and uncle have tried to replicate this type of love and both have fallen short. When I look at everything they’ve been through, it makes me cringe at the thought of having to deal with relationships like that. But then, I look at
my grandparents and know it’s possible.

  “Everyone, put your cell phones, iPoles, and pads in this basket,” Nona instructs as we sit around the table. A giggle pushes through my lips.

  “It’s iPads and tablets, Nona,” I tell her.

  “I don’t care, you know what I mean.” My smile deepens.

  “Victor Enzo Martello, non fare di me venire lì.” ‘Don’t make me come over there,’ she sternly tells my uncle, who’s still tapping away on his phone.

  “Okay, Mamma. I just need to send this quickly,” Uncle Victor says, a big smirk on his face as he finishes his text. “Ci!” he says in Italian as he puts his lifeline into the basket.

  “Grazi.” She nods at Uncle Vic before turning to my Pop. “Santino, please say grace.”

  After grace is said, we make our plates. Our family is never one to be quiet, so dinner is usually the men going on and on about sports—mainly soccer. They can go for hours and hours talking about it. I mean, I like soccer, but they are passionate.

  Throughout dinner, Nona asks Leslie questions about her family, college, and me as a roommate. It’s nice to see Leslie smile and not worry about anything.

  Uncle Victor though, he lives to mess with me. His favorite thing to do is putting me on the spot. And tonight is no different.

  “So, is Zayne your bae or what, Natalee?” I sputter into the glass of wine I’m drinking. I look up at my uncle over the rim of the glass before setting it down. I give him a dirty look while I clean my chin and clothes.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask him through narrowed eyes.

  “You know, Zayne. You two spend a lot of time together. So, is he your bae or what? I’m curious.” Vic’s voice is full of amusement as he asks me once again.

  “Who’s Zayne?” Nona asks. I pivot in my seat, looking at her before I climb over this table and choke the shit out of my uncle. Nona takes a bite of her food, raising her eyebrows at me, ushering my response.

  “Oh, dear God, shoot me now,” I mumble, shaking my head. I can feel my cheeks reddening. I turn my head to the right to look at Leslie and mouth, “Help.”

  “Yeah, Nat, tell your family who Zayne is.” Leslie chuckles.

  My eyes go wide as I stare at her. She’s supposed to help me, not egg my uncle on. Oh, this bitch is gonna get it!

  “I think it’s her bae,” Uncle Vic says to Nona.

  “What the hell is a bae?” my dad asks, looking at me. My glare turns into a murderous evil eye aimed at Uncle Victor across the table. Damn jerk. He loves stirring the pot.

  “Bae means ‘before anyone else’, or like babe, for you older peeps like Vic.” I smile condescendingly at my uncle. “And no, he is not. He’s a friend.”

  “Well, if that’s what you call a guy who makes you smile so big with one text, then I guess.” Leslie shrugs. “Although, I’m sure he would loooove to be your bae. In fact, I’m positive. I mean, you can’t keep your eyes off him when he’s around and let’s not mention the way your face lights up,” Leslie says.

  I grab my napkin and crumple it in my hand. The evil eye does not work on the devil and his henchmen. I must resort to slowly torturing my uncle and Leslie.

  These assholes.

  What the fuck?

  They’re ganging up on me.

  “Oh, well, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if he was your bae, Natalee. I mean, you have talked about him quite a lot when you call home,” my father says slowly. I turn to look at him, unable to hold back the scowl on my face. He chews the rest of his food and plants his elbows on the table. “You know, he seems like a nice guy.” My dad points his fork at me before returning to his food.

  “Yes, if you speak about a man in a great way, especially to your Papa, then he means more to you than you think, amare. Why did you not invite him to dinner?” I stare at Nona, my mouth agape. Victor’s laughter in the background grates my nerves. I’m going to murder him.

  Dead.

  Six feet under.

  Pushing up daisies.

  “Yeah, Natalee, why didn’t you? Didn’t want him to meet your dad yet? Too soon?” Vic asks.

  I ignore him and compose myself before responding to Nona, who is still awaiting an answer. What the hell am I supposed to say? I didn’t think I talked about Zayne when I called home…well, much.

  Damn it!

  I mentally think back to a few of the convos I’ve had with Dad and cringe. Yup, sure enough, I have talked about him.

  “Yeah, Nat, I’m sure he would have loved to meet your family,” Leslie says with a slight gleam in her eyes, letting me know this bitch is up to no good. “He’s a really great guy, very protective and cares about Nat very much,” Leslie says, looking at my Nona.

  “He’s my friend, Nona. He doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, he’s English.”

  “Nonsense. If he lives here, even for a bit, he should celebrate. It shows respect for the country,” Pop speaks up. “I knew nothing of this day when I came to America. My father did not want us celebrating it because we are Italianos, but Mamma said, ‘No, Paolo, we are now Americans and we must give them thanks for allowing us to come here’. Same with this Zayne. He should celebrate and give thanks for being allowed in this country.” I smile at my Pop. Some people may think he’s a bit intense, but he’s sweet and loves all people.

  “Well, it’s too late now. Maybe next time, okay, Pop?” I say to him. He responds by nodding and continuing to eat his food.

  “Well, I think I could ‘ship that,” Uncle Victor throws out.

  “Oh my God, Vic, I’d totes ‘ship that,” Leslie chimes in.

  My face heats further. I groan into my hands and shake my head, trying not to laugh.

  “Hashtag Zatalee. I can see it now! I bet I can get it trending on Twitter,” Vic says excitedly.

  Inspiration hits and I look at Vic with a smirk.

  “Uncle Victor, did you tell Nona about Quinn? You two seem pretty close. I mean, the way you were kissing last week when I came over was...passionate.” I wag my eyebrows at him.

  Now, it’s my turn to watch him squirm in his chair.

  “Oh! You haven’t mentioned any woman, Victor. Who is she?” Nona asks, her eyes pleading for information.

  She wants nothing more than Victor married and having bambinos left and right.

  “She is a friend who was helping me with security for a few artists. Nothing more,” Uncle Victor says to Nona while shooting daggers at me across the table.

  Giving him a smug look, I touch the napkin to each side of my mouth, trying desperately not to laugh as Nona starts her inquisition. Ah, best feeling ever! Getting back at him and having the spotlight off me. The rest of dinner Nona and my dad grill Uncle Vic. I sit back, enjoying my meal. Pop looks at me and winks.

  Well played, Natalee. Well played.

  Something Great

  I wait for her reply as I get ready for the party. I wasn’t going to go, but Nick didn’t want to go alone. Leif is with Adriana and her family for the holiday. Lennon went home with Amaris to Palmdale to be with her family. Harrison, Nick, and I were left to our own devices. Not that it matters since we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. Nick complained all day, wishing he had Nando’s, a restaurant he loves back home in the U.K.

  It’s been a long time since we’ve had a cheeky Nando’s. When I think of Nando’s, I immediately picture our mate Nathan. He is a ledge. We always had us an ace of a time. The ding from my phone interrupts my thoughts.

  I hope I will be coming in Shorty soon. I shake my head, clearing my dirty thoughts before my mind starts picturing her in compromising positions.

  Fuck. I don’t know how to bring this up to Harrison. I’m sure he will say it’s fine, but I know he’ll be uncomfortable, making the rest of us on edge. I run my fingers through my hair before walking out to the lounge where Harrison is on the sofa watching football…well, soccer to Americans.

  “Did you see this match, mate?” he asks when I enter.

  “No, I recorded it,
but had to work.”

  “It’s brilliant. Want me to rewind it?” Harrison asks. I tap my phone against my palm.

  “That’s alright. I have a question for you, though.” I clear my throat.

  “What’s that?” His eyes snap to mine.

  “Would you be okay with Leslie coming to the party?” He sits for a few moments, staring past me before finally answering me.

  “Sure, why is she not with Chance?” The hope in his eyes is evident. I hate seeing that.

  “He’s in New York, I guess. Les is with Natalee,” I explain. “You ready or do you need more time?” I ask Harrison, who’s still staring off into space.

  “Yeah, mate, ready as I’ll ever be.” I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, hoping tonight won’t end in disaster.

  Half an hour later, the boys and I are riding up the elevator to Natalee’s uncle’s condo. My palms are sweaty and my nerves are through the roof. I know it’s trivial, but this is the first time I’ll be meeting Natalee’s dad, uncle, and grandparents. I don’t want to come off as a tosser. I want them to know I will always be a proper gentleman when it comes to Nat.

  When the elevator finally dings, my heart rate shoots up. So many emotions run through me, but only one I can clearly identify: anxiety. Shaking out my hands, I still feel it rolling through my body, putting me on edge. The more steps I take toward the door, the heavier my legs become.

  “C’mon, chap, let’s get the girls. Are you nervous?” Nick claps my back, pushing me forward. Harrison hangs back a bit, running his fingers through his hair—a sure sign he is feeling uneasy about being around Leslie. Here goes nothing.

  Nick just smiles his carefree smile as he rings the doorbell.

  “Hey, guys, come inside. The girls will be out soon. I’m Victor, Natalee’s uncle.” He firmly shakes my hand. “My brother, Stephan, Natalee’s dad.” I shake his hand, still feeling extremely anxious.

  “Very nice to meet you, sir,” I say, a slight tremor in my voice. This is the first time I’ve ever met the parents of a girl I actually see myself having a future with. Walking into the condo, I’m blown away by the vastness of it. Floor-to-ceiling windows give a great view of the city below and to the right is the lounge with a piano by the window.