I am completely in love with her.
Chapter 39
Jade
A red glow pulsates around Connor. It wraps around him and reaches out to me, pulling me closer to him. Even when his eyes fall away from me, the connection isn’t broken. Something real and tangible stretches between us, reaching. It has been so long since he’s beamed light. I smile at him and walk down the stairs, feeling a warmth and electricity in the air. But his eyes are shy and he doesn’t look at me again. In fact, he looks everywhere but at me. For a moment, I’m hurt. But then, I just keep glancing at the glow around him and nothing else matters.
***
“Is everything alright?” I ask Connor as I smooth out the silk of my dress. Connor has barely spoken to me and we are nearly to the Plaza now.
“Yes.” He says, his lips quickly sealing shut again as if something might escape them, something he doesn’t want to say. I feel self-conscious.
“You—you didn’t have to take me tonight, Connor. I would have understood if you wanted to go with someone else.”
“Of course I wanted to go with you.” His sharp, quick response takes me by surprise because I am not used to anything from him being quick and sharp—like a razor slicing. I don’t believe him. I stare out the window and swallow hard. Why does this feel wrong? Why does the foot or so space between us feel like a chasm splitting further in two and separating us? Connor is a world away, but he is right here, staring out the windshield.
“Take me home, Connor.”
He snaps his head toward me. “What?”
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but something isn’t right.” I say, not sure how to describe the aloneness I am feeling, aloneness when I am not alone at all. “You don’t seem happy. And I want you happy. I’d rather stay home and let you enjoy yourself than go and have you…” I motion to him and try to think of what to say, how to describe the razor-sharp distant Connor that I don’t know, “like this.”
Connor works his jaw and readjusts his hold on the steering wheel. It is then I realize he has clenched it the whole ride. He pulls over to the shoulder and shuts the engine off. The quiet without the engine gnaws at me. Connor lets go of the steering wheel then places his forehead on it and traces the leather threading along its edge.
I don’t say anything because I have a feeling he will, so I wait.
He sighs and sits upright. Ruffles his hair with his hands, leaning back on the seat and resting his head on it, looking up towards the torn upholstery on the ceiling.
I can’t take it any longer. “Is this when you tell me I have to get out and walk home?”
Connor closes his eyes. “No, Jade.” His voice is soft around the edges, familiar. “This is when I say I’m sorry for being an ass.” He sits up and puts his hands back on the steering wheel. “I—I just, I don’t know.”
“That’s enlightening.”
“I know, right?” A weak smile plays on his lips, but I am grateful for it because it is better than the scowl plastered on his face before. “I just have this feeling that this,” He points to me and then back to him “is going to change or won’t last or I’ll screw it up somehow and I really, really don’t want to.”
I furrow my brow, a bit confused.
Before I open my mouth, he looks at me and smiles again, wider this time. “Confused, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“Yeah, you always look like that when you’re confused.”
“Like what?”
“You always furrow your brow and crinkle your nose .” He starts playing with his keys still in the ignition and sighs looking away from me.
The keys jingle. And it is just he and I in the silence. I feel like he is trying to tell me something important, but I can’t quite understand.
“Good to know I am predictable.”
“Ha! I wish!” He sits up and leans up against the window so he can look straight at me. “Jade, if I ever do something stupid, please just tell me, and I promise I will try to make it right. I don’t want to ruin our—” He breathes in a huge breath, “I don’t want to lose you because, I—I really care about you and I haven’t felt so close to anyone before.”
“Neither have I, Connor.” I reach out to touch his arm and he flinches away.
I snatch my hand back and look out the window, away from him, far away from him. It doesn’t make sense. He is telling me he doesn’t want to lose me and yet I feel like he is pushing me away, like he doesn’t want me at all.
“Jade, I’m sorry. I just—I just think that in the end—you are going to wind up thinking what a loser I am and you will be off with the people you should really be with…”
“What people?”
“I don’t know—popular, attractive people.”
“You are attractive.”
“I—it isn’t the same.”
“Why not?”
“Because of course you would say that because you are sweet and my friend and you aren’t going to tell me I am an ogre.”
“What are you talking about? I call you a decrepit old man all the time.”
“Am I?”
“What?”
“A decrepit old man?”
I look at him and realize he doesn’t look like the boy I first met. He doesn’t look hollowed out and caved in, he doesn’t have worn, sad eyes. He faces me, unflinchingly and waits. “No.” I say. “You are my Connor… and I won’t ever let you go.”
He exhales another loud breath and leans in toward me. I lean in too. We hug each other; tux to silk. I feel his uncertain hands wrap around me and squeeze. He seems so big now, his broad shoulders a pillow for my head, his arms warm and protective and I feel a flutter of something in my chest. “Thank you, Jade. I won’t let go of you either. I lo—” He stops, stumbling over his words.
I pull away from him and look into his eyes. They are tawny and beautiful. “You what?”
He pulls away completely and revs up the engine. “Was about to make a fool out of myself.” He smirks. “So, let’s go see if this party is any good.”
“All right.” We drive off, but now I feel his warmth beside me and when I reach my fingers across the seat, his own reach out and tangle in mine.
***
The ballroom is decorated like a winter wonderland. Lights in the shape of icicles drape the ceiling. Shimmery blue and white fabrics cascade down walls and across tabletops. White glitter nearly covers the floor so it looks like we are walking across snow when we come in through the front door. The beauty makes me stagger back, but a quieter voice inside me says this is familiar, too familiar. I bristle, looking around, trying to calm my restless nerves. I feel chilly, like the icicles are real. I grab Connor’s warm hand and yank him towards me, dragging him to the crowd in the middle of the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”
“Uh, ok.” He says, “I have to tell you though, I am not much of a dancer.”
I put my finger to his lips. “Shhh.” I just want him close to me, want his warmth to smother the cold building inside. I clasp my hands around his neck and align my body with his, my cheek resting on his chest. His heartbeat thumps in my ear, and I close my eyes and listen to it. I listen until it is the only thing I can hear.
Chapter 40
Connor
The silk is too thin and she is too close. I feel every curve of her body against me and it is too much for me to handle. Her bare skin under my fingertips sends nervous exhilaration through me and I swear my heartbeat is ramming my ribs so hard they will break. I am sure she can hear it, but I just hope she doesn’t notice me smelling her hair, tracing the length of her neck with my gaze.
I squash my thoughts, try to push them away. I can’t ruin this. I can’t. She’s my best friend and I can’t scare her away with these feelings that make me want to touch more of her, makes me want to bend down and feel her soft lips with mine, make me want to hold her in my arms forever. I stand up straight, realizing I am curving into her so we almost completely tangle
together. I stand up straighter and push the thoughts of her away. She is my friend. My friend. My friend. That is it. That is what she wants from me. But… it’s not all I want from her.
She traces something on the nape of my neck and it takes all my willpower not to sigh aloud.
I lick my lips and hold her close, so close, but she doesn’t pull away and, for right now, it is enough.
Chapter 41
Jade
Hip to hip, I feel his hands resting on my bare back, his fingers almost reluctant to touch me there. His skin barely grazes mine. My arms wrap around his neck and I twist my index fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, whirling my fingertips from there down to the top of his spine, drawing my symbol on his skin. It relaxes me. Every once in a while, he swallows. He either doesn’t like me touching him like this or it makes him too uncomfortable, so I stop. When I do, the restlessness floods back in.
His eyes flicker to me, noticing the lack of touch. Slightly clenching his jaw, he presses his lips in a fine line and then relaxes. He parts his lips a couple times to speak, but stops before actually saying anything. Our eyes survey the dance floor. It is a myriad of color and light.
Then, I see him. A man with violent blue eyes, pale skin, and brown hair standing in the back of the crowd staring at me. He moves his lips and I hear the sound like a faint whisper in my ear.
Jade… With that, electricity pricks my skin, and I shut my eyes as the pricks turn painful. When I open my eyes, he’s gone. But Dominic stands beside us on the dance floor. “Hey, may I cut in?”
“No.” Connor says sharply.
“Tsk. Tsk. Shouldn’t the lady decide?” Dominic places a hand on my shoulder and his breath is cool on my cheek. A chill races up my spine and I feel like I am being hollowed out, like my body is eager to reach back to him.
“Yes, she should.” I say. “No, thanks.”
“Okay,” he says simply. I hope he can’t see the disappointment on my face when he takes his hand off my shoulder.
Leaning over he whispers something in Connor’s ear. Connor pales and then flushes red. It happens so fast: In one quick motion, Connor let me go, whirled around towards Dominic and landed a punch straight across his jaw. Obviously surprised, Dominic loses balance and falls to the floor. Connors stands over him, chest heaving, fists clenched. My own jaw drops open and I can’t help but stifle a proud giggle.
The principal marches over to us. “Mr. Devereaux, we don’t tolerate such violence here. You and Ms. Smith are going to have to leave.”
“No problem.” I say, pulling Connor along with me.
As we leave, I look back into the auditorium to see Dominic smiling after us.
In the parking lot, I pivot in front of Connor and give him a high five. “Awesome job!”
Connor smiles back at me although I see he’s still both angry at Dominic and sorry about getting us kicked out from the ball. “So shall we have ourselves a real party?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Popcorn and movies of course.” He smiles and helps me into the car.
As we start driving, though, I hear whispers swirling around me, digging into my ears, scraping at my skin. I try blocking them out, but I keep hearing the voices nag at me: Improbus es, improbus es. It lulls me in and out of a blurry state and every so often, I swear I can see either blue eyes or dead girls watching from the side of the street. I close my eyes against them, willing them all to disappear.
***
Connor leaves me at his house to get the movies, because I can’t stand the car anymore. It felt pressurized, crushing me, yet the metal doors seem too thin for whatever is lurking outside.
I turn the doorknob and feel a beat rumble under my feet. I gasp, but then realize it is the beat of music. Very loud music. I push the door open.
The music blares over a stereo system from the back study.
“I hate the world today. You’re so good to me, but I know that I can’t change…”
I’ve heard the song before, but I can hardly imagine why some angsty female rock music would be blasting the floor beams at Connor’s house. A voice shadows the singer’s. Out of sync, slightly higher pitched. I step through the hallway and into the kitchen. The study door is ajar. I hesitate before peering inside. In my narrow view into the room, I see Desi swing back and forth, her arms wrapped around something pressed against her chest. I step forward, avoiding the squeaky floorboard, quickly realizing that the floorboard could break and no one would hear it with the guitar blaring so loud.
Desi’s singing? Her voice attempts the edgy rhythm, but still rings in with her fair sweetness. The song doesn’t quite fit. She sways and turns, bobs and sings away, oblivious to her audience. I suppress the laughter bubbling up in my chest. It nearly chokes me. She turns toward me, eyes closed, lips splayed in song. And then I see them.
Tears. Tears etch into her make-up leaving a thick vertical line below each eye with clear, paler, foundation-free skin. The blackness from her eyelashes smears above and below her lids. The entirety of her looks flushed, exhausted, rosy, and splotchy. Undone. Uneven. No halo of light, no sparkle, nothing. Something falls within me. Her sadness seeps past her skin, lingers in the air, and invades my body with harsh precision.
“Desi…”
She drops the flat, square object in her arms. It breaks. The glass splinters. Shards of glass litter the floor about her feet. “Oh, Jade…” She looks at me, her eyes red. “You scared me.”
“I’m so sorry.” I rush forward to help her pick up the pieces.
“No, no worries.” She falls to her knees and picks up the picture frame and nestles it in her lap. She lets her fingers rest on its image, before glancing up at me then busying herself with cleaning up all the broken shards.
I step forward and kneel in front of her, picking up the pieces of glass.
“It was the last song he heard me sing…” She says quietly.
“What?”
She bends her neck and nods to the stereo, still blaring. “David and I… we would always go into the Quarter and have a few drinks.” She blinked, surging more tears down her face. “This song was on the radio and he dared me to sing it.”
“And did you?”
“Of course. I stood right on top of that bar and sang my lungs out.” She smiles, wiping her nose. “David and I laughed so hard. You should’ve seen us. Like two teenagers on a date. But we were always like that, ya know. In love. Happy. Even when that man drove me insane, he made me laugh.”
I don’t know what to say. She sits there, her husband’s photo cradled in her hands as if he were too fragile to release. She looks over the photo, her fingers tracing the lines about his hair and torso.
“He was my best friend.” Her lower lip trembles. On the floor, she looks as broken as the shattered frame. Her eyes are weak, exhausted, and something else. Sad? Of course. But there is something so transformative in her eyes, her solid brown eyes seem a whirl of emotions all anchored by one heavy thing, but I can’t grasp it. “I felt like I lost him before he died. Always working in that damn office on those damn papers. He was a different man those last few months.”
I rest one hand on her shoulder. Too afraid to say something—something wrong, something cold, something that would push her further away. She reaches up and touches my hand, then rests her cheek on it. “It was all worth it though. Nothing like loving your best friend.”
Her cheek is warm on my hand. She plays with the hem of my dress. Her dress.
“It’s like somebody comes in and shakes your world to pieces and then… he’s there and he’s the glue that keeps you together, that makes it okay. He was my sunrise, ya know. He made my world bright, made me know the day was always promising something beautiful and amazing.” She closes her eyes, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in a long, long, time.”
I stare at her. Vulnerable. Her eyes shutting out the world. It must be dark there inside her. She looks so different from the woman I met that
first day—all shining and luminescent. I carefully sit beside her. “Desi.” I whisper. “When I first saw you, I thought you looked like sunshine.”
She opens her eyes and locks my gaze. “Like sunshine?”
I nod. “You made the room brighter, warmer somehow. And I just remember thinking, I could get drunk on this woman’s sunshine. And I knew I wanted to be like that. I wanted people to get lost in my light. I wanted to be sunshine—like you.”
A shy smile tugs at her lips. “Oh darlin’, you are already someone’s sunshine.” She stands up, and I follow. I’m sunshine? To someone? I open my mouth to speak. “But talking about intoxication, I do think that I am going to need a drink. Let me just… throw this glass out.”
She leaves the room with a jerky, fumbling movement.
I stand up and look around the room. So many books, so many papers. A pitcher and some glasses are set out on the end table. I pour a glass. I lean in to smell it. Bitter and rich, fresh and salty.
I take a sip.
“Sure!”
I take a sip. Swooshing the taste around my mouth I get a sudden pinch of burning on my tongue and swallow quickly. My face must be skewed from the assault of it.
Laughter. “There’s tequila in that tea, darling. Kinda strong.”
I eye it and prepare myself for another sip. I get a mouthful and swallow it slowly, allowing the flavor of tea and the tequila to mix in my mouth. I close my eyes and feel the burn, but also taste the subtle medley of flavors. Another sip, then another.
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