by Joey Bush
I had to laugh. Everywhere I went my friends told me how great Quinn and I were together – on the one night we had never been farther apart.
Scottie found me. "Don't worry, wingman, I've been doing just fine without you. Though I had a nice side chat with your girl Quinn. Man, she is wonderful. It was good seeing you two together in Vegas. Finally, someone that makes you happy, lets you be you," he said.
That was it. I put down my blue punch and turned to find Quinn. We ran into each other in the narrow back hallway.
"I was looking for you," Quinn said.
"And I'm supposed to say that I was not looking for you," I said. She was too close and I did not know what to do with my hands.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You were just trying to help," she said.
"No, you're right. I shouldn't be pushing you towards something that I want. This is your life, Quinn. I don't want you to feel any pressure from me."
As soon as I said it, all I could think about was the pressure of her lips against mine. Her firm body pressed against me. The pressure that built between us when we moved together.
"Quinn! Hey! I was hoping you might be here," the young desk clerk from the Wynn Hotel called down the hallway.
"It’s okay, go mingle. Have some fun," I said.
She squeezed my arm and smiled. I wished she had noticed the hoarse longing in my voice. I cleared my throat and watched her go. Quinn was still free to make her own decisions. We both were. What had happened in Vegas might have just been a one-time deal.
#
Watching Quinn make the rounds of the party with Dave was too much. Her smile was too bright. I could not look away. He got her a drink, helped her through the crowd, and listened intensely to everything she said. Quinn enjoyed the easy flirting and it lit her up like a sparkling firework.
"Oh no, man, don't do this," Scottie said. He handed me a full cup of blue punch. "Not tonight. I need my wingman tonight and a wingman cannot have that look on his face."
I tore my gaze from Quinn and looked at my friend. "There's no look. See? I'm fine," I said. "Let's check out the game on the back patio."
"They went that way," Scottie said. "How about we head back to the kitchen? There's a redhead there who's making flaming drinks. I could use one of those."
I nodded, but headed towards the back patio. Quinn was sitting on the railing of the deck with Dave leaning next to her. They were chatting and laughing over something. It made my skin crawl the way he was too close to her bare knee.
"No, see, this is the look I'm talking about," Scottie said.
"There is no look," I said. "I just want to make sure she's safe. We don't know anything about this guy."
"Or we know everything about him. He went to our high school, man, he's a year younger than Quinn. And, it’s pretty obvious that he adores her and would do anything she said."
"Great. Now I feel better."
"No, sarcasm can't chase it away. I still see it there in your eyes," Scottie said. He jumped in front of me and pretended to flash a penlight in my eyes. "Yup. You've failed the first test. I better take you down to the station."
"What look are you talking about?" I batted him away.
"Love, man. That's how you look at someone when you're in love." He took an ominous sip of his drink. "I recognize it. And your symptoms are bad."
"Why on earth would I take love advice from you?"
"Have you ever known anyone else more hopelessly in love than me?"
"Hopeless is a good way to describe you," I said.
"Come on. How many times have you caught me making that same exact face at Alison? You've warned me of it every time," Scottie said. "We'll be sitting around, my eyes will drift and I'm telling you, man, they find her like she's magnetic. Just like you are with Quinn. This could be a crowd of hundreds and you'd still be staring like that."
I forced myself to turn around a smile at a knot of adoring fans. "There. I'm not staring. There's no look."
"Yeah, whatever. It’s still there. How about you give her five minutes to head back inside and I'll time how long it takes for you to find her again?" Scottie said. "'Cause I'm guessing it'll be seconds, not minutes."
"What's seconds not minutes or should I guess?" a voice surprised us.
"Alison," I said, kissing her cheek. "Glad you could make it."
"Did you invite her?" Scottie asked. He mimicked a knife entering his back and stumbled dramatically to and fro.
"Of course you'd forget who introduced you to Winton in the first place," Alison said. She crossed her arms and looked Scottie up and down. "Why are you hanging on Owen? No luck finding the girl of your dreams?"
"I did. Turns out she's a damn harpy. I'm hoping once the moon wanes I'll see her again," Scottie said.
"How about I leave you two lovebirds alone?" I asked. Scottie tried to jump in my path, but I moved around him and made it into the house before he could beg me to stop.
I told myself I was looking for Winton, but I stopped when I saw Quinn in the front room. She was talking to a knot of Winton's race game friends. They were trying to sell her on the superior skills needed for virtual racing. She laughed but let them show her some of their favorite moves.
I could not get a deep breath. I considered the back patio again. Scottie was waving his hands at Alison as she stood with her hands on her hips. I checked out the front door instead.
The problem was that I knew Scottie was right. There were hundreds of ways to cover it up, dress it up, or ignore it. Still, I knew the truth and I was yelling it over and over at myself. I loved Quinn. I had probably always loved her. All the reasons we should not be together dissolved against the wave of relief I felt when she was near. Without her, I was always seeking.
"You look like you're ready to embark on a quest," a soft voice said.
I turned and found a petite redhead smiling up at me. For one moment, it was easier to look away from Quinn.
"I thought Light Slayer would be different in person. I mean, I hoped you would not be, but I'm surprised. You look exactly the same. Same intensity, same sense of purpose. It's impressive," she said.
I knew the flattering was only a temporary balm. I knew that indulging in it was cowardly and would cost me. But I could not turn back and see Quinn having fun with another man.
"How about we get a drink?" I asked. I held out my arm. "I hear someone was making flaming drinks in the kitchen."
The redhead smiled. "Hmm, I hope you like it hot," she said.
She stood up on her tip toes and whispered in my ear. I did not hear what she said, but it did not matter. I let my gaze wander over her slender, lithe body and I licked my lips.
When we turned to head towards the kitchen, Quinn was standing in the hallway. "I guess I was just coming to say goodbye," she said.
"Was that your girlfriend?" the redhead asked, but it was too late.
I dropped her arm and chased after Quinn. "Are you okay?"
Quinn yanked her arm away and did not turn around. "I'm fine. It’s fine. I get it."
"Get what? Can we talk?" I asked. I reached for her shoulder again.
"Maybe I'll see you next weekend," she said and took off down the driveway.
I let her go. It felt wrong to be happy when Quinn was upset, but if she was upset, then she knew how I felt. Maybe she loved me, too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Quinn
"Well, I for one am not going to tell you how to live your life," Darla said. "But I am going to tell you to drink this coffee. You don't look like you slept at all. Have you been crying?"
"No," I said. "That would be stupid. I don't have anything to cry about."
"No?" Darla asked. "So it would not have anything to do with that horrific dinner party your father threw for you or the fact that you went to a party to have fun and ended up seeing Owen licking his lips over some bottle-dyed redhead?"
I almost choked on a warm slug of coffee. "No. It has nothing to do with any of t
hat. I just didn't sleep well. We start a whole new lab in nursing today. Maybe I'm nervous about that."
"Why would you be nervous? You cranked through all your catch-up work like it was nothing," Darla said. "And despite not studying last weekend, you still managed to pull off one of the highest test scores in the class."
"That doesn't mean I liked it. What's wrong with me, Darla? Why don't I know what I want to do with my life?"
"Because your life is not just some checklist."
"You're lucky. You know you want to be an artist, you are an artist," I said.
Darla fluffed up her hair. "So, why exactly am I paying all this money? Art is supposed to be one of those things that you just go out and do. Or maybe it’s one of those things that you have to master hundreds of techniques before you can really achieve it. See? I'm just as screwed up as you."
"So, what do we do?" I asked.
"Go to class," Darla replied. She threw open the door and blew me a kiss on her way out.
She was right. I was ready. It did not matter if I had my entire life mapped out or if the rest of my day was an entire blank slate. I had a class and that was what I needed to focus on. The rest of my life could wait. Owen could wait.
Even if it looked like he was done waiting for me.
My mind spiraled back to the party. It had been such a thrill to flirt with Dave and meet new people. Especially when Owen was watching me. Every time I felt his agate-blue eyes on me, I lit up like a candle. I knew it was wrong to enjoy him watching me and I spent way too much of the party laughing and flirting just to feel his eyes on me again.
I had spent so many years watching Owen and my sister together that it felt really good to be on the opposite side. It felt so good that I had forgotten how jealous, then hurt, then defiant, and finally vengeful I had felt being in Owen's position. Every time I smiled at Dave, I had driven Owen a little farther away. Straight into the arms of some willowy redhead.
The thought made me sick.
"You're not sick, are you?" my new lab partner, Bella, asked. "Today would be the absolute worst day to be sick."
"No, I'm fine. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," I said. I joined her at the stainless steel lab table.
"Oh, good. I'm glad. I have to admit I was really excited when our new lab pairings came out. I mean, I know you were gone for a while, but that just showed what an amazing student you are. To come back and shoot to the top of the test scores like that. That is impressive."
"To be honest, I don't know how I did it," I said. "Besides, your name is right up there, too."
"Yeah, but I can't say things like 'I don't know how I did it.' You're a natural. I work really, really hard," Bella said. "That's why I think we'll make great lab partners."
"Alright, class. I know some of you have been excited for this while others have been dreading it. Today, we start our cadavers research lab. You and your partner will each be assigned a cadaver and will work through a series of assignments that explore the human body first hand," our professor said.
His teaching assistants wheeled sheet-covered gurneys into the lab as he spoke. Bella was already taking notes, but a buzzing had started in my ears and I could not hear what else the professor was saying.
One by one, the pairs of nursing students were uncovering their cadavers and taking initial observations. Ours arrived and was lifted onto the stainless steel table. Bella grabbed the sheet and peeled it back.
I saw blonde hair, the ashen gray forehead, and the lab exploded around me. Somewhere in the buzzing blare of light, I heard someone screaming. It was me.
"Quinn! Quinn! Are you alright?" Bella had me in a tight hug. I was sobbing against her shoulder. The floor slowly stopped undulating.
I stood up, shaking, and peeked over her shoulder. The cadaver was an old woman with white hair. She had to be at least eighty years old.
"I'm sorry," I said in a hoarse voice. "I don't feel well."
The professor tried to catch me, but I ran from the room. I could not sprint down the halls fast enough and almost fell racing down the stairs. When I made it outside, I did not stop running. Tears streamed down my face as I ran blindly back to my dorm room.
"Quinn? Oh my God, Quinn, what happened?"
Owen's strong arms came out of nowhere and caught me up in an all-encompassing hug. I clung to him, the sobs ripping out of my chest again.
"Please, please tell me what happened. Are you alright?" He spoke against my hair, his body still wrapped protectively around me. "You're scaring me."
"I got scared, that's all," I said. "We started on the cadavers today. So gray."
He pulled me over to a bench and cradled me in his arms. When I could finally take a deep breath, I sat up in his lap. "I'm sorry," I said.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Maybe this just goes on the con list for nursing as a career," Owen said.
A laugh burst out and surprised us both.
"Wait, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm not stalking you. I swear," Owen said. He helped me to my feet and stood up. "I was here to talk to one of the computer programming classes."
"Sure," I said. My legs felt shaky and ruined the teasing.
"And then I decided to see if you were around. So, yes, I guess it turned into stalking," Owen said. "I'm sorry about the other night at the party."
"What about it?" I asked, my heart aching.
"You thought I was flirting with that redhead. I was really just passing the time until you were free," he said.
"Really?"
"Whoa, hang in there," Owen reached out to steady me. "You know, Quinn, it’s possible that you have PTSD. Maybe you should go lay down for a while."
"No, please, I need to get off campus," I said.
"UCLA got me a hotel room in town," Owen said.
I headed towards the parking lot. He caught up with me after a few steps and wrapped his arm tightly around me. I was glad as my legs still felt wobbly. Now that the terrifying episode had passed, the adrenaline was kicking in and I felt electrified.
When we got inside Owen's hotel room, he went straight to the mini-bar and cracked open a small bottle of Scotch. "Here. This will help calm your nerves. You look a little jumpy. Adrenaline?"
"I don't know," I said. "What, do you think I'm a nursing student or something?"
Owen laughed and flopped down in the armchair. He put his feet up on the bed, leaving me the rest of the king-sized mattress to spread out on. I used all the extra pillows to create a nest and settled in with the little bottle of Scotch.
"No," he said. "Maybe not a nursing student today. How about a chef?"
"I burned macaroni and cheese in high school. Remember? You had to knock down the smoke detector with a baseball bat."
"How about astrophysics? You could spend your life studying black holes."
"That sounds uplifting. Oh, wait, my math skills are not strong enough," I said.
"Yeah, you're terrible at making change."
I whacked his feet off the corner of the bed.
"How about astrology, then? I bet you could write a good horoscope," he said.
"Sounds good. Let's start with yours. With the moon in your seventh sign, beware of old friends. Your wit and charm will get you nothing but slapped." I took a hearty swig of the Scotch and punctuated his horoscope with a round of hacking coughs.
Owen grabbed two beers from the mini-bar and cracked them open. "Here, might be better with a chaser," he said.
He sat down on the bed next to me. I grabbed for the beer, but he did not let go. I took another swig of the Scotch and his lips followed. The burning alcohol was nothing compared to the fire Owen's kiss started in my belly.
I took the beers from his hand and balanced them on the bedside table. When I turned back, his agate-blue eyes were following me with the same intensity from the party. I crawled back along the bed and into his lap. He sighed, long and hard, his hands coming to rest on my hips. Then slowly, each millimeter taking a centur
y, we drew closer and closer until our lips brushed again. Soft feather-weight kisses that erased the world around us. Over and over again until there was nothing but the two of us.
"I've wanted you for so long," I said.
"You have no idea." Owen tangled his hands in my hair.
The soft kisses disappeared and passion devoured us.
"Wait," I said. I pushed against his chest and stood up. "There's something I have to do. I have no idea what else is going to happen with my life but there are two things I know."
"What's the first thing?"
"I have to call my parents and tell them I am quitting the nursing program," I said.
"And what's the second thing that you know?"
"That I don't want you to move an inch."
#
I did not want to argue. I could not let my father try to build an argument against my decision. He was a lawyer, a very talented lawyer, and I knew the longer I let him talk, the more sense he would start making.
"Father, I'm sorry. I know I have the aptitude for it but not the heart. Maybe someday, but that will be my decision. This is my decision. I'm quitting the nursing program. I'm leaving UCLA," I said.
"Of all the hair-brained, impulsive things to call out of the blue and say." My father held the phone away from his mouth and shouted for my mother. "Your sister would never have done anything like this."
"Exactly," I said. "I'm sorry, but I wanted you to know right away. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I will find a job and start paying back the student loans."
"And how do you think that's going to happen? Have you thought about-"
"Did you just hang up on your father?" Owen asked.
"Why do you think I'm turning my phone off?"
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Owen had not moved an inch. He still sat on the edge of the bed, his feet planted squarely on the ground. I stood between his legs and smiled.
"I feel like I just woke up. Like I've been asleep and having one of those stress dreams when all the clocks are moving too fast or your teeth are falling out. And now, I'm awake and I know for certain that everything is just fine. I'm fine," I said.