He nodded, clearly unsure of what to say. We endured an awkward silence.
“Well, thanks for dinner,” I said. “Tell Lea I said thank you.”
“I will.” He nodded, fingers thrumming the glove box between the seats.
“I had fun tonight,” I admitted.
“Yeah. Me too.” His eyes skittered around my face. I wondered what he was thinking as they rested on my lips. Do something bold, Rose, my mind dared at the sight of this. You know you want to. I knew he wanted to, but he wouldn’t.
I squeezed the strap of my purse. Do it. I had a moment of second thoughts, then leaned in real fast and pecked him on the cheek. I seized the handle of the truck and slid out to the step, biting my tongue to keep from grinning like a freaking clown. I’d started to walk away when I heard a window rolling down and—
“I’ll call you in the morning?” He had his head out the window, looking hopeful.
“Anytime after nine,” I smiled. He had no idea how much I would be waiting.
Dad was being a grumpy papa bear as I slid into the kitchen, all casual. He was slumped in the couch cushions, jabbing the channel button with force. He mumbled a few questions, like the typical “how’d it go” when he really meant “you’re dead if you’re drinking, smoking, or having sex”. I made it clear that my night out had gone fine and was kept PG through and through.
Dad gave a last “Hmph” in which I knew I was released. In the safety of my room, I changed into nightwear, thoughts of Hayden and this evening consuming me as I fell asleep.
*
He was waiting on the stairs outside as I pulled into the parking lot. Hayden’s apartments looked much safer during the day, but the place still felt dead. No cars were buzzing around, nobody walked on the sidewalks now. The trees didn’t even tip to a brush of the wind.
Sitting in my seat, I tugged down the bodice of the one-strap dress I was wearing. The sound of static hung in the air as the silk ran along my seat cover. Mom was probably going to kill me for wearing—out of all the nice colorful things I owned—black to her wedding shower. We’re supposed to be in celebration! I could hear her scolding me now. Not mourning! Even if I was grieving over her choice to stand at the altar with this man.
But in the end I’d thought, oh what the hay?
Blonde curls flowed out of my headband (it’d taken me almost two hours to curl my whole mane but it looked boring flat) I strode across the lot with a plaid jacket over my dress.
At the sight of me, Hayden jumped up and crossed the sidewalk.
I examined him, muttering, “Holy cow.”
His Corona tee had been replaced by a black collared shirt, tiny buttons down the front. He was in skinny jeans for a change, though they still sagged a little— and he hadn’t given up his skater shoes—but for the first time he ditched the hat. His dreads were just pulled back into a tight ponytail that hung down his spine.
“Hey, be nice.” His cheeks flushed and he slipped his hands into his jean pockets. “Lea made sure I looked absolutely ridiculous, so be nice.”
“You don’t look ridiculous!” I retorted, touching a string of his hair. He was like, son of Medusa. Sexy son of Medusa. And to be perfectly honest, he looked hot in skinny jeans. “You look good for a… what’s the term I want?”
“Skater? Punk?” He leaned in and whispered, “City Faerie?”
I shook my head. “No, not what I was looking for.”
He snorted. “Yeah well, whatever word.” He scanned my dress and smirked. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
“I parked over here.” I started for the Mitsubishi.
“Whoa now.” He grabbed me by the back of the dress—fairly close to my behind. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
I glanced across the street at the Silverado. If we drove that, we’d stick out for sure since all of mom’s family and friends drove little Toyota Corollas or Lexus sedans. Hayden’s monster would stick out like a wolf in a heard of Chihuahuas.
“You want to take an ass-smasher to my mother’s wedding shower?” I blurted.
“No, tell me how you really feel about my truck,” he said sarcastically, then laughed. “It’ll save you gas. Plus, I’m sure it would bug your soon-to-be stepfather, right?”
I blinked at him, considering this. “… Let’s go.”
The Embassy was one of those middle-class hotels that sat off the city’s main drag. There were definitely fancier places mom could’ve chosen for the shower— the Hilton being her other favorite—but the Embassy was classy. Clean… probably the nicest, least expensive place to host so many people.
But no matter what it was or where it was or how much it cost, my stomach was queasy by the time the building came into view. I slouched in my seat as we entered parking. I’d expected nerves, but not this many this fast. I thought this would be a piece of pie having someone with me.
“You doing ok?” Hayden looked over as he scanned for a parking spot.
“Just, a little uneasy.” I smoothed my dress unnecessarily before wiping my forehead. My stupid body was trying to sweat all of a sudden. “I just… I can’t believe she’s marrying this guy.”
He pulled into a space right near the front door. “Don’t worry. If you pass out, I’ll carry you to the truck.”
My stomach silently gurgled. I pressed a hand over it. “Passing out isn’t what I’m worried about.”
He cut the engine. “Yeah, you hurl you’re walking yourself.”
I made the mistake of glancing through the glass doors. “Oh hell, there’s Lyle.”
The man was standing in his typical white collared polo and black slacks. He was greeting people in the lobby. I looked down at my lap, hand over my face— not that he would’ve looked at the Silverado in search of me, but still.
“The lanky guy with the bad hair cut?” Hayden’s cheeks tightened as he squinted through the windshield.
“Yeah. And he calls it the A-line cut. Ugh, maybe I will puke.” I pulled my jacket off and threw it in the back. I was getting hot flashes now, and I knew it wasn’t because I was nearing my monthly cycle. “Pull me aside if I start to look really pale, ok?”
He threw his seatbelt off, nodding. “No worries.”
We approached the building slowly. As Lyle spotted my figure, he smiled. That smile deflated, however, as his eyes landed on the figure accompanying me— especially since it wasn’t his type of company. He turned away quickly to greet an elderly couple, and I couldn’t help but smirk. It was a rare occasion for me to be nasty, but my oh my, wasn’t revenge sweet at times? I wanted to throw my head back and cackle like the Witch of West, but I would’ve scared everyone. My self included.
The electronic doors parted and we came into the huge lounge. Maybe it was just my imagination, but for a second I thought I felt Hayden’s fingers brush my back.
Lyle seemed to be distracting himself with guests as long as he could. When there was no one left to converse with, the Alley-Creeping Vampire turned to face us. “Rosie!” He arranged his face in a high-browed, wide-cheeked smile, the kind of expression that reminded me of a Ken doll. “Welcome to the Embassy, my dear. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Oh, thanks, Lyle.” I tilted my head and smiled, putting on my usual act as well. “Happy to be here.”
Lyle’s gaze was reluctant to touch Hayden—like a germaphob was afraid to touch the door handle of a public bathroom. He reluctantly rotated his head. “And uh, who might this be?”
Hayden smiled broader than I did. “Hayden.” He didn’t offer his hand out.
“Aw. Pleasure to meet you, Hayden.” Lyle didn’t, either. “Aw! Mrs. King it’s so nice to see you!” He turned to a dark-skinned woman with two pig-tailed daughters at her side. They quickly fell into conversation.
“Rose!”
Mom’s voice echoed off the walls. She came trotting out of a nearby hallway in a white dress with blue flower print. “I’m so happy you’re here—” She stopped at the sight of my guest.
“Hi, mom,” I greeted, gently tugging Hayden’s sleeve. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought a friend.”
“Oh no!” She shook her head. “That’s fine! What’s your name, honey?”
“Hayden,” he said quietly, seeming shy all of a sudden. “Um, congrats on the wedding.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, but her tone was meek. At least she was taking him better than her fiancé. “So um, everybody’s in the back room. Come on this way.” Her stilettos click-clacked back across the lobby. Hayden and I exchanged glances before following.
We were led into a spacious room. Glass windows made up the back wall, white cotton and lace draped over the tables spread around the floor. Gold streamers danced on the ceiling and were spun through the crystal chandelier, glittering
in the sunlight. Behind the gift table, a huge sparkling banner read: CONGRATS
LYLE & DENISE!
I stared at the banner, then scuffed and turned away. “Prepare for a long afternoon,” I whispered.
“Your mom has a lot of friends.” Hayden admired the numerous crowds
spread about the hall. “Or Lyle does.”
“They both do.” I watched skinny, super tan Yelanore Davis—mom’s best
friend and maid of honor—engaged in a group of well-groomed men I didn’t
recognize. Friends of Lyle, I knew without a doubt. There was one group I’d be
avoiding.
“Rose!” Someone was calling for me again.
This time it was a petite woman with dark hair. Her gauzy scarf was red
and sparkly like her lipstick—then again Dana always loved bright colors. Dana
was mom’s one and only sister, and by far my favorite aunt. She threw her arms
around me, squeezing my midsection. Her chin barely touched my shoulder. “How are you, honey?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you forever!” “Hi, Dana. I’m… surviving,” I admitted with a laugh. Dana knew everything
about my opinion of Lyle and we kept those secrets amongst ourselves. Dana’s attention flicked behind me, a flirtatious smile curving her mouth.
“Hello.”
“Oh.” I glanced at Hayden, who was standing a little awkwardly behind me,
hands in his pockets again. “Dana, this is Hayden. He’s a friend of mine.” “Hi, Hayden.” Dana grinned and held out her manicured, bracelet-laden
hand. “I’m Rose’s auntie, Dana.”
He shook her outstretched hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Dana.” “So.” She crossed her arms, eyes zipping between us. “How long have you two
known each other?”
“Not long.” My reply was firm. I knew where she was going and what her
tone had implied. It had not been my mother, after all, who taught me about
boys; Dana had taught me everything starting from age seven up until last year
(that was when she moved to Riverside County with her husband, Clint). She’d
been the one to give me the birds and the bees talk, kidnapped me from school
on bad days, and bought me three super-sized chocolate bars when I broke up
with Scott.
She ignored my comment, going on to ask about where we met and how the
trip to San Bernardino went. At one point, Yelanore called her over for help, so
one last smile and she strutted off to the dessert table, wobbling a bit in her heels.
Mom should’ve hired a band of pedicurists; Dana wouldn’t be the only one needing an arch massage after this ended.
Over the course of the next hour, Hayden and I met nearly everyone in the room. I didn’t mind meeting mom’s coworkers, friends, and boss, but I cringed every time we entered a swarm of Lyle’s groupies. I even met his parents, who were about as vain as he was. The way Mrs. Mason kept throwing Hayden looks, I could tell she thought he didn’t belong here. There were a few moments, however, that Mr. Mason had to muffle a laugh at something Hayden did or said. I was sure they would’ve got along fine if they were alone.
At four-thirty we all settled at tables for dinner. Mom had arranged us off the far side where we got stuck with a couple Lyle knew, and my Grandmother El and Grandpa Mike. My grandparents took to Hayden just like Dana (two more points for us). The cook mom hired served us a very odd seafood dish. Not sure what it was or what part of the animal it came out of, no one ate much of it. Dessert, however, I had few complaints—who can insult cheesecake with swirls of fudge?
By the time the sun went down, mom had opened her pile of gifts, announced her thanks to the room, and the music—totally 80’s, mushy love song themed—was booming across the floor. Groups and couples were out dancing as tables got folded and moved away. Hayden took this chance to grab my wrist and sneak outside to the gardens.
“So are there other portals besides the one in the triangle?” I was ready to talk about something that didn’t include weddings or my mother and Lyle. The sky glittered with stars overhead as we meandered by the red roses, away from the crowds at last.
He gave me a warning look, knowing we shouldn’t be talking about this, but he answered, “No. Just one, far as I’m aware.”
I brushed the petals of a passing white rose, the only one in a cluster of pink and red blooms. “If you had a chance to go there, would you?”
“To Fethe Pentranna?” He scrunched up his nose and shoulders. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” My eyes bugged in shock. “It sounds so amazing and you wouldn’t go if you had the chance?”
“Look, I’m human, Rose,” he stated tiredly, tilting his head towards the sky. The moonlight made his eyes shimmer. “For the most part. And I’d rather not be part of their world unless I have no other choice.”
I sighed, then stared at our feet moving over the grass. “You really hate being a faerie child, don’t you?” I whispered.
“No, I hate being Adrian’s child,” he corrected, words bitter. “He’s the reason I’m such a mutant.”
“You are not a mutant.” My thumb gently brushed his ear. I noticed for the first time they were ever so slightly pointed. “Not to me.”
He tilted towards me, his broiled aura subsiding. He smiled before looking away. “Thanks.”
We were coming up on a pretty grouping of colored poppies as we passed Mr. and Mrs. Ray—friends of mom’s. “Good evening, Rosalia.” The middle-aged, Indian man nodded.
“Hi, Mr. Ray.” I smiled and returned the favor.
Tiny Mrs. Ray wiggled her fingers shyly.
“So why me, Rose?” Hayden glanced after the couple as they disappeared into the gardens behind. “I’m curious.”
I knit my eyebrows. “Why you, what?”
“Why me over, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Greg?”
“Oh—oh, no!” I quickly shook my head. “I love Greg and he probably is the ideal boyfriend, but there’s no spark between us.” And honestly, the thought of me kissing the kid was shiversome. Kissing any of the three at work for romantic purposes was. They were the brothers I never had.
“But you guys get along, you have stuff in common,” Hayden pointed out, then whispered to the air, “And he can’t hurt you.”
I gave him a shove for that one. “Anyone can hurt me. Whether physically or mentally, anyone can injure a person,” I made clear. “I’d take physical pain any day over mental.” It was the mental stuff that could last ten times longer than a physical bruising, torture you twice as hard.
His expression hardened as he chewed his lip. “Yeah well, I don’t want to hurt you either way.”
I wrapped my arm around his. “You won’t.”
He squeezed my hand as we returned to the crowds, approaching the outdoor gazebo strung with white lights and tiny Japanese lanterns. Only a third of the party had moved out here. A few people were munching from snack buffet tables and sitting in white chairs while the rest were inside dancing or swarming the bride and groom.
“Aw, Rosalie!” An elderly ma
n with grey hairs lining his head rushed out of the gazebo. It was Mr. Wick, the counter man at mom’s apartments. He usually worked evenings, so I didn’t see him that often. He’d known mom since the divorce.
“Hey, Mr. Wick.” I let go of Hayden, my cheeks slightly pink. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going well, Rosie.” His eyes zipped over Hayden’s figure. “So, Mike tells me you brought a mechanic along with you tonight.”
“Oh,” I giggled. Hayden and Gramps had been talking about cars at dinner. Should’ve known the old man would’ve blabbed.
“Um, more motorcycles than cars,” Hayden corrected politely. His bashful behavior was quickly wearing off while mine was starting to set in. “But yeah. I know some.”
Mr. Wick nodded. “Would I be too bold to ask you a favor, then? You see, my car keeps leaking some kind of fluid out the front near the bumper, and I don’t know what it is. I’m debating on taking it in, but I don’t know whether or not it’s necessary.”
“Uh, do you want me to look at it?” Hayden asked.
“That would be great. What’s a good time for you?”
He shrugged. “I can do it right now.”
“Right now?” Mr. Wick’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Hayden glanced sideways at me, as if seeking my approval. I smiled. “Show me where I’m going.”
“Oh, thank you! I really appreciate this!” Mr. Wick turned on his heel, motioning with a wrinkled hand.
“I’ll be right back, Rose.” Hayden gently pinched my side before striding after the old man.
“Have fun,” I laughed, giving a wave.
He grinned over his shoulder, then turned around.
“I’m Mr. Wick, by the way.” The old man held his hand out as they walked.
“Hayden.” They shook hands.
I sighed, watching the pair disappear through the sliding doors. It was good to know people were warming up to him—he seemed happier about it than I was. I felt kind of pathetic, however, at the fact that he’d been gone for barely fifteen seconds, was still in my sight, and I already missed him. If I wasn’t careful, I’d turn into a Stick-It like Chanel, always hanging on the gorgeous guy I liked.
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