Angel (Pieces #1.5)

by Canosa, Jamie

  If I’d brought my laptop at least I could have accomplished something. Or a nap certainly wouldn’t hurt. My eyes burned with exhaustion, the consequence of staying up past three in the morning to finish a paper the day it was due. Something I seemed destined to be doing again tonight.

  Stretching my legs out in front of me, I tried to rest my heavy head, but the chair back didn’t even reach my shoulders. The smooth, narrow, rounded wood arm rests did nothing to support actual arm resting, either. If I ever got my hands on the idiot who designed that useless piece of furniture . . . Leaning forward, I planted elbows on knees, and dropped my head into my hands. Not exactly the world’s most comfortable position, but it would do.

  “Hey, you ready?” Kiernan slapped my shoulder and an impressive string of vulgar profanities ran through my head. Why hadn’t I shut my eyes twenty minutes earlier? Maybe we could have gotten out of there a little sooner.

  “Yeah.” Checking my pockets for phone and keys, I stretched my aching back and stood. “The doc going to call with the results? Let us know if the stupid sector of your brain is lighting up like a Christmas tree today?”

  Kiernan waited until I was halfway through the door before letting it go. “He said it would probably take an hour or two.”

  Great. More waiting. “Why don’t we go pick up your car and then hit the diner for lunch?”

  “I already ate lunch.” Kiernan strapped on his seatbelt and sat there, flipping his cellphone over and over in his hand.

  “Well, I haven’t.” We were sitting in the same car, but Kiernan was a million miles away. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  If looks could kill, the one Kiernan shot me would have resulted in a bloody mess. That was the number one taboo question with him. I knew that. And I understood it. But there were times when it needed to be asked. If for nothing more than my own peace of mind.

  Of course, peace of mind only came with an answer. Something I did not get. Only the look of death and then he went right back to fiddling with his freaking phone.

  “Got a call to make?”

  “Yeah, actually, I do.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

  Despite the fact that I was practically bilingual in sarcasm, Kiernan wasn’t quite so fast at picking it up. “I don’t have her number.”

  “Kiernan!”

  “What?”

  He could be so infuriating at times. “Would you just talk to me?”

  “About what?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the guy who pummeled your face?”

  “You should see his face.” There was a hint of pride in Kiernan’s voice and I had to work hard to crush a grin.

  “Kier—”

  “He was giving her a hard time, alright? This assclown at school was giving his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—a really hard time. Said some awful things. He hurt her, Cal.”

  A pair of frightened blue eyes came to mind. My nostrils flared and I felt my spine go rigid. Fighting over a girl was one thing, but fighting to defend one? How was I supposed to fault him for that? It was more than I’d done.

  “She’s a sweet girl. She’s never hurt anyone. And all he does is put her down. He’s the worst kind of bully and when she finally stood up to him . . .” Kiernan’s face contorted, his eyes narrowing into slits and that vein that only bulged on his forehead when he was truly pissed popped out. “It’s my fault. I convinced her to breakup with him. I told her I’d—”

  “Kier, stop. It sounds like you did that girl a favor.” One I wished I’d done for Angel.

  “She’s not going to see it that way.” Kiernan’s head dropped back against the seat. “I made her a promise. I promised her I’d be there. That she wouldn’t have to face this alone. And now . . .”

  “And now you’re here. With me.” His sudden epic love for education was starting make sense.

  “I let him get to me and now I’m suspended. For who knows how long. And she’s all alone. Exactly like I promised her she wouldn’t be.”

  “I’ll talk to Mom, tonight. We’ll call the school. Everything will work out, okay? I’m sure she can make it through one day on her own.”

  Kiernan didn’t seem quite as convinced, but he let the matter drop. There was nothing more either one of us could do about it.

  “How about lunch? Or second lunch?”

  “Sure.” He frowned at his reflection in the blank screen of his phone and then shoved it in his pocket.

  ***

  An hour later, I felt slightly nauseas watching Kiernan shovel food into his mouth. For someone who’d already eaten, he was certainly enjoying his burger and steak fries. The same could not be said for my turkey wrap. Normally, I could pack it away with the best of them, but I couldn’t seem to find my appetite. Maybe it was the worms burrowing holes in the pit of my stomach.

  Kiernan had this ability to turn things off that I envied. He could just not think about things. Or, at least, not worry about them. I guess when it comes down to shutting off your biggest fear or surrendering to it, you have to find a way. And once you can shut that out, the little things must become easy to ignore.

  My phone felt like a lead weight in my pocket. It had started the meal on the table, but when I caught myself staring at it for the hundredth time, I’d put it away. Now I just imagined the blank screen staring back at me. Where was the doctor with those damn results?

  “You gonna eat that?” Kiernan reached for my plate and I slid it across the swirl patterned table top to him.

  A wrinkled old lady with friendly eyes and a warm smile, wearing a pale blue apron, bustled over to our table with a pot of coffee in hand. It would be my third cup, which would do nothing for my jittery nerves, but at least it would keep my eyes open.

  “Anything else I can get you boys?” She topped off the mug and turned her smile on Kiernan, who could only manage to shake his head as he wiped a gob of mayo from his chin.

  “No, thank you. We’ll take the check.” We’d killed as much time as possible. And if the doctor didn’t call soon, I’d be killing him next.

  “Sure thing, honey.”

  I’d been sitting on the edge of my seat for going on two hours, acutely aware of my phone. All of my thoughts centered on it. Maybe that’s why when it started buzzing against my thigh, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was in such a rush to free it that the stupid thing nearly ended up on the floor.

  “Hello?”

  “Caulder Parks? This is Doctor Fauler’s office calling with test results for Kiernan . . .” I leaned forward, eyes glued to my brother, as she rattled off a battery of numbers.

  As my brain processed the information, I saw the first true glimpse of fear from Kiernan. He really wasn’t stupid.

  When she finished up her spiel, followed by a long winded explanation of why fighting was a bad idea for my brother—as though I didn’t already know—I thanked her and hung up.

  “So? What did they say?”

  I was tempted to withhold the information. Challenge him to own the fear I’d been battling since that first phone call came in from the school. And if it had been anything short of his life that we were talking about, I might have. “You’re good. I mean, you’re totally crappy. But no crappier than you were before.”

  The air of relief surrounding our table was palpable. It was like a giant balloon had been inflated around us, growing bigger and bigger, and finally . . . it burst. Pressure relieved, we could take a breath again. I sagged in my chair and eyed the full cup of coffee on the table in front of me.

  Screw caffeine. I needed to sleep.

  For a month.

  Three

  “Caulder? Hey, Parks, you still with us?”

  I blinked at my notebook and the sunbaked blonde in front of me. “Hey. Yeah. Sorry, Beth. What did you say?”

  “Are you alright?” Perfectly manicured nails wrapped around the back of my chair, and I caught a
whiff of coconut as her hair fell over her shoulder and bushed against mine. “You sort of checked out for a minute or two.”

  More like the entire evening. Shit. What time was it? The rest of the class was busy packing up and I was still staring at a blank page.

  “Yeah. Guess I’ve got other things on my mind.”

  “Obviously. Listen, I was going to go with Marjorie and Tom to get some pie. Do you wanna come? I could help you fill in some of those . . .” Beth glanced at my notebook and grimaced, “blanks.”

  “Pie?”

  She shrugged. “Tom’s got a thing for pie.”

  “Beth! Come on!” At the back of the lecture center, Marjorie, Beth’s best friend, was waving dramatically toward the door.

  She was a short girl, but she didn’t seem it. Her personality was as fiery as the wild curls on her head. Everything about her was loud. Her voice, her hair, her clothes. In stark contrast to her counterpart, Tom was tall and lanky, and his color of choice seemed to be black. From his buzz cut to his boots . . . black. We’d been in class together for a few weeks and he’d attended a study group I was part of once, but I couldn’t remember ever hearing him talk.

  “So? You coming?” Beth waved at her friends and turned back to me.

  I wasn’t really in the market for friends. And if I was, I probably wouldn’t have chosen the pair by the door. But Beth seemed like a nice girl. We’d talk a time or two over assignments and between classes. Plus, I’d just spaced out for a solid hour and a half. Maybe getting my mind off things wasn’t such a bad idea. And I really needed those notes.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Great.”

  I followed Beth up the wide stairs between the stadium style seating and got the strangest look from Marjorie along the way. It was almost . . . giddy. They all piled into Tom’s pickup, but I opted to drive myself. I had no idea where this place was that we were going, but I doubted I’d want to come all the way back to campus to pick up my car afterward.

  I nearly choked when we pulled up to the entrance of the Golden Gates Country Club. Who the hell, north of the Mason Dixon, rolls up to a valet in a pickup truck? Even my baby barely lived up to the standards set by the Maseratis and Porsches making their exit as I climbed out from behind the wheel. I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, for chrissakes.

  “Isn’t there some kind of dress code or something?” I handed my keys off to the man in the purple vest and joined Beth near a podium.

  “Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head. “Tom’s parents own the place.”

  “Tom?” The guy in the torn black jeans, black tee, and black motorcycle boots? His parents owned a country club?

  “Never guess, right?”

  “You two lovebirds coming?” As Marjorie and Tom brushed past us, it was hard not to notice the way he was openly groping her ass.

  Our sneakers squealed on dark, polished wood floors drawing foul looks from the men and women wearing sports jackets and heels, clustered in deep cream armchairs in a series of secluded seating areas. For eight o’clock on a weeknight, the place was unexpectedly crowded. It was standing room only around an intricately carved bar, displaying every type of top-shelf liquor known to mankind.

  Thick burgundy area rugs and exotic plant life added to the affluent feel without being gaudy. Even I had to admit . . . “It’s a nice place.”

  Tom glanced around, looking altogether unimpressed. “I hate this damn place.”

  Marjorie rolled her eyes and knocked his shoulder. “Then why’d you bring us here, silly?”

  “They’ve got good pie.”

  There were several people seated in a posh waiting area. Marjorie sauntered past all of them. The hostess was busy making phone reservations, while Marjorie hovered over her, impatiently tapping her nails on the desk.

  “Can I help you?” She deposited the phone and immediately turned her flustered attention to us.

  “Yes. Party of four.” Marjorie paused and when the woman started tapping at a tablet, she sighed loudly. “We’re with Thomas Arnold.”

  “Oh.” The receptionist’s gaze swung toward us again, quickly scanning myself and Tom. “I’m so sorry. It’s crazy here tonight. Let me see what’s available.” She tapped away for a few more seconds and breathed a relieved sigh. “Here we go. There’s a table available, if you’ll follow me.”

  We trailed her through a busy dining room to a formal table set with white linens and china plates. All for pie. The entire experience, so far, had been surreal. And it only got stranger from there.

  Surrounded by men in fancy suits and women in fancy dresses, Tom in his black wardrobe and Marjorie in her hot pink skirt and lime green tee started making out. Right there at the table. And it wasn’t an innocent kiss. No, there was definitely some tonsil licking going on.

  “So . . .” Beth cleared her throat and drew my attention away from the beginnings of a porno going on across from us. “Have you decided on a paper topic for Graff’s class, yet?”

  The pre-med program was somewhat limited. And with large class sizes, it wasn’t surprising that Beth and I had more than a few together.

  “The effects of addiction.” I didn’t mention the particular angle I was focusing on because I really didn’t want to talk about it.

  I had a ton of information to work with. The books from the library turned out to be surprisingly helpful, and it was coming together pretty easily. Minus the twenty or so pencils I’d snapped in half, trying to take notes.

  Alcohol and drugs affect the brain, making an addict forgetful and moody. They often times have trouble expressing that anger and tend to misdirect it toward those around them. Many lack empathy. All of which leads to an increased risk of abuse—both verbal and physical.

  And that was just chapter one.

  “Here you are.” A waitress with a long brown braid stopped at our table and unloaded four plates of cherry pie we hadn’t even ordered. Evidently, this kind of thing wasn’t uncommon for Tom.

  He and Marjorie didn’t even bother to break their lip lock long enough to acknowledge the woman, so I thanked her and handed out the plates, leaving mine untouched in the middle.

  “You don’t want any?” Beth tipped her head to look up at me as she unwrapped her silverware and draped the napkin across her lap.

  “Not really hungry. What about you? What are you writing about?”

  A subtle flush crept up her neck. “This is going to sound totally girlie, but I’m writing my paper on love. Not love love. That’s not just a human thing. I mean, I know penguins and wolves and whatever mate for life, and that could be considered love. I’m writing about the cultivation of love. Courtship.” Her eyes darted across the table. “Making out in country clubs. That type of thing.”

  I stared at her long enough to watch her blush grow darker before letting her off the hook. “That’s a cool idea. Penguins, huh?”

  Popping a bite of pie in her mouth, Beth grinned around her fork. “And wolves.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Not as fascinating as . . .” She swept her gaze over to where Tom looked about two seconds shy of pinning Marjorie to the booth. “Us.”

  True. Animals were fairly predictable. They operated off of survival instincts. They did what made sense. Humans? We pretty much did the opposite of that.

  Beth glanced at the time on her phone and sighed. “I can’t stay long. I have to swing by the library before it closes. I swear it feels like I live there these days. Seriously, I should just set up a tent in the lobby. A cot, reading lamp . . . I’d be good to go.”

  She wasn’t the only one spending an inordinate amount of time at the library, recently. I’d been back to the local branch seven times in two weeks. For ‘research purposes’. She hadn’t been there. And I hadn’t left with anything more than a deep sense of disappointment.

  “You probably want to add some pie to that list.” I eyeballed the remnants of cherry sauce and crust crumbs on her plate.

  “It
’s delicious.” She laughed, swiping a finger through some leftover red goo and lifting it to her lips. “You sure you don’t want to try some?”

  “Nah. I’m good.” Sleep had become nearly impossible even without added late night sugar.

  Angel haunted my dreams. Nightmares filled with angry voices and cruel words. Sad blue eyes, desperately seeking salvation. But I could never reach her. No matter how hard I tried, every time I came close, she was dragged away by pitiless hands.

  I should have done something. Said something. I never should have let her leave that day.

  “What class is this paper for?” Hallelujah. Tom had peeled himself off of Marjorie long enough to notice there were other people at the table.

  “Social Sciences.” Beth made a gagging sound and I couldn’t disagree. It was one of the worst classes I’d taken.

  “Right.” Tom nodded as though he were making a mental note of the information. “Remind me never to take that class. Leave the paper writing to you smart people.”

  “You’re smart, Tom,” Marjorie scolded. “You’re taking Intro to the Human Body with us.”

  “Only because you are.”

  “Aww.” Marjorie swooned. As in, actually swooned. I’d always thought that was more of a word and not so much an actual physical occurrence, but there it was. Right before my eyes.

  The two of them were back at it again before they’d even had time to catch their breath. Beside me, Beth giggled and shook her head.

  “They can be a bit . . . much, sometimes.”

  “Ya think? I’m suddenly glad I passed on the pie.”

  I was only half joking, but Beth laughed anyway.

  We tried to hold a somewhat normal conversation, while more and more eyes turned to our table. Most of them looked disgusted. More than ready to call it a night, I considered making my great escape, but I couldn’t leave Beth there alone with the two of them.

  “You want a lift to the library? It doesn’t look like Tom’s going to be ready to leave anytime soon.”