by Marian Tee
“But I did, cross my heart.” His smile was tender as he made the appropriate gesture.
His attempt at making me smile was endearing, but I still wasn’t done with my little interrogation. I hated every minute I had spent away from Lucian, and I was determined to know everything that could help me prevent us from fighting again.
My fingers traced his jaw as I asked haltingly, “Why didn’t you just say sorry?”
He sighed again before quietly admitting, “Pride…among other things.”
“Are you really sorry?”
He kissed my forehead. “Yes.”
“I love you, Lucian.”
He answered the words with a kiss that swept all the sadness away. My heart told me I shouldn’t be so weak, that I should berate him for being too proud and forcing me to come to him first.
But it was impossible to stay angry with his lips moving over mine, and he was holding me like I was something precious and fragile, something he would die for before letting go.
Next time, I promised myself, drowsy and tired after crying so hard. Next time I won’t be so weak.
And then Lucian was kissing me again, murmuring he was sorry and that he’d watch me while I slept, and I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to the best night’s sleep I’d had in days.
Chapter Thirteen
Never force a guy to do something he doesn’t want to do. It was the most painful lesson I had to learn and probably the same for anyone else who preferred to ignore inconvenient truths. If you forced a guy to do something he didn’t want or wasn’t ready to do, the outcome would always be unpleasant, no matter how much he cared for you.
“Just for an hour, please.” I batted my eyelashes but the usually fail-proof technique was ineffective. Maybe my pretty fluttering eyes were only potent against humans?
We were in the living room on a warm cloudy Saturday, the Nevada weather cooperating nicely with the country fair scheduled to open tonight. Audrey and I had made plans to go, and I was hoping Lucian would let go of his privacy issues enough to accompany us.
“Stop it, Deli,” he ordered, irritation making his voice just a tiny bit less doctor-like. He might even pass for a normal human being with normal human emotions if I pestered him further.
“But, Lucian, it’s just a harmless fair—”
“I mean it, Deli. Stop it. You’re starting to look like a goldfish and it’s creeping me out.” And then he was snapping his Financial Times open, which ended the discussion as far as he was concerned.
Dyvian frowned and shook his head. “I don’t agree. I think you looked more like Nemo when you were doing that.” He fluttered his lashes, which were ridiculously long like his brother’s.
“Do me a favor, will you?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Mind your own business. Please?” I fluttered my lashes. “Pretty, pretty, please?”
“You should just ask me instead,” he advised. “I’ll be more than happy to go with you and Audrey to the fair.”
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Is that so? Well, the last thing I’ve heard, Lucian here still hasn’t officially—”
Lucian lowered his newspaper just enough to give his brother a warning glance. “Enough.” He turned to me, saw me still fluttering my lashes hopefully, and just…grunted before hiding himself again behind his beloved newspaper.
Dyvian smirked and returned his attention to the latest gossip Ryan Seacrest was sharing on television.
I jumped off the settee and perched my hip on Lucian’s armrest. “Please, Lucian, please, pretty, pretty, please—”
He sighed and folded his paper back. “Let’s make a deal. I heard you failed your quiz in History—”
I scowled at Dyvian. “It’s his fault. He lived through the Civil War and when I asked for help—”
Lucian’s raised eyebrow was enough to silence me. “Do you want this or not?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“What’s the name of Abraham Lincoln’s assassin? Give me the right answer and I’ll go.”
“Mark—”
Dyvian hooted. “That’s John Lennon’s assassin, Deli.”
“I rest my case.” Lucian lifted his newspaper back to eye level, and this time it stayed there.
~~~
I tried one last time a few hours later. Deciding to ambush him in his study, I skipped to his table and asked casually, “How do I look?”
Lucian put down his pen and pushed his checkbook aside, giving me his full attention.
I espied the organizations he was donating money to and was flattered to note that he was giving me preference over Brangelina’s foundation. If I worked hard enough at being his perfect girlfriend, maybe he’d even place me above world peace on his priority list one day.
His eyes traveled all over me from head to toe. I had curled my hair and worn a pink, lacy headband to accessorize my fuchsia mini-dress and chunky three-inch-heeled leather boots.
“Well?” I demanded when he continued to observe in silence.
He said finally, “You look nice,” and returned his attention to writing out checks.
It was difficult to extract pleasure from his words when he had spoken them like a medical diagnosis. I decided to think he was just shy and what he really meant was I was too beautiful for him to look at.
Lucian coughed but didn’t look up. There was an absent-minded air about him now. He was doing his all-time favorite activity—thinking. And though it also meant he was close to forgetting I was even present, the frown of concentration on his face only made him more gorgeous in my eyes.
Why did I love this guy so much?
He rarely had time for me, and yet, I still didn’t mind if I had to wait the whole day just to have a minute alone in his arms.
He should have been too silent for comfort, but instead, I found his one-word-per-minute style cute.
Unless he was making me breathless with his kisses, he treated me like a bratty younger sister he was inclined to ignore.
He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend but…he made me feel safe. He never made me feel ashamed I was occasionally the opposite of a brainiac, and he did lots of little things for me just to make me smile or feel better.
I sighed loudly and sat across him.
“The puppy eyes and the sad face won’t work, Deli.”
“I just want to be with you.”
“The pouting won’t work either,” he informed me without looking up or pausing from his writing.
“Lucian.” When he didn’t answer, I raised my voice. “Lucian.”
“What?”
I was intent on asking him to go with me one last time, but my lips seemed to have another idea. “I love you.”
If I had expected Lucian to be overcome with passion at the words, I would have been vastly disappointed. But I didn’t and I giggled when the words only made Lucian still as a statue. And then he was raking his hand self-consciously through his hair, asking briskly, “Do you have enough money for tonight?” He took out his wallet and began counting out notes.
I planted my hands on my hips. “I know you have a hard time trusting people, especially women, but I shan’t be defeated. I know you love me, Lucian. I just know.”
“Deli, please.” He handed me a couple of bills and pointed to the door. “Now, go.”
Walking backward to the door, I encouraged him, “Come on, Lucian, it’s not that hard to say. Follow me. I. Love—”
“Out now, Deli.” But there was a smile in his voice.
Laughingly running back, I threw my arms around his neck and placed the sloppiest kiss on his cheek. “I still feel bad you’re not coming with me, but it’s okay, I forgive you.” I nodded with self-righteous generosity against his shoulder.
He pulled back and, for one moment, everything I had ever hoped for from Lucian was shining in his forest green eyes. His eyelids shuttered closed, then he was back to being his aloof, busy self.
“Stay out of trouble,” he reminded me befor
e waving me away.
~~~
“It’s just the two of us then?” Audrey got inside the SUV next to me. She looked prettier than usual. Her purple and white striped blouse hugged her body like second skin, emphasizing the kind of cleavage that flat chested girls like me could only dream of. The black miniskirt, tights, and mules she wore with it added funky glamour to her look.
“Just the two of us, yes, and you look fantastic, by the way.” I raised a brow and teased, “Are you planning to get someone’s attention?”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Deli. You and I know Wesley’s so into you he barely notices anyone else when you’re around.”
I remembered the last time I had spoken to Wesley and looked away guiltily, busying myself with driving. “Audrey?” I asked in a small voice.
“Yeah?”
“Are you angry at me?”
She asked in astonishment, “Why should I be?”
“Because when Wesley flirted with me a few days ago, I flirted back.” My voice had gotten smaller and smaller until I was close to whispering the last few words.
“Oh. That.” She didn’t even pretend not to know what I was talking about and my guilt increased.
“I’m sorry,” I burst out before she could say anything further. “I know it was wrong. I know it,” I repeated miserably. “But I was just so mad at Lucian I wanted to get back at him in any way. Then Wesley came and I wanted to make Lucian feel jealous—”
“It’s okay, Deli.” She stopped my ramblings with a soft laugh.
“Is it really?”
“I can’t say I wasn’t a little hurt, but in the end, I knew you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Not make Lucian jealous?”
“Duh. Not that. I mean, flirt with Wesley.” I tossed my hair over my back. “I can’t promise I won’t try to make Lucian jealous. There will be times when it’s the only way he’ll remember I’m not just his ward—”
“Is that an Australian term for girlfriend?” Audrey tossed me a curious look.
“Something like that.” I tried laughing my little blunder away.
We got to the fair at half past seven. The whole town seemed to have turned up for it, and we had to endure long lines just to buy cotton candy, throw darts at colorful balloons, and ride the Ferris wheel.
Nevertheless, Audrey and I had fun. It was pretty amazing how well we got along considering the short span of time we’d known each other. She was as outrageously blunt as ever, and I couldn’t stop laughing as she pointed out people she knew, whispering horrendous facts about them.
There was the primly dressed Martha, a lovely brunette who had been caught two years ago having sex in the boys’ locker room with Arthur, the pimply-faced son of Sanger’s Reverend Andrew Roberts. She had been quickly wedded to Arthur, and her wild child days had come to an end under the Reverend’s strict supervision.
Bartholomew Scott, a large, balding man in his fifties, was described to be an old, pompous, know-it-all. He was the richest man in town, lived in an ostentatious two-story home, and everyone knew the only reason he came to live in Sanger was because he had been tired of living in the shadow of his far wealthier relatives.
And then there was Matthew. He was exactly as Audrey had described—tall and stocky with handsome blond looks. He had a nice smile and even nicer teeth, and I realized why so many people had chosen to believe his word over the rebellious-looking, albeit equally good-looking, Audrey.
One of these days, I had to figure out how to avenge Audrey on this jerk.
“Hey, Deli. Do you want to try that out?” She pointed to one of the attractions at the edge of the fairgrounds.
It was a two-story structure with the words House of Mirrors garishly painted on a sign above it. I could hear people screaming and laughing from within. “What is it?”
“You’ve never tried something like it?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a maze of mirrors. All you have to do is find your way to the exit.”
I glanced back at the makeshift house. “Is it safe?”
She laughed. “Of course, it is. Why shouldn’t it be?”
But what if a Zekan was in there, hiding, waiting to kill me? I forced a smile. “I don’t think—”
“Oh, come on,” she exclaimed, dragging me with her to the ticket booth. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. My treat, too.”
And that was how, minutes later, I found myself gripping her hand tightly as we stepped past the entrance and into a dimly lit passageway. Inside, the so-called House of Mirrors was even scarier than I had imagined. Larger, too.
There were two doors to choose from. A couple of sophomores were with us and they took a chance with the red door on the left, half-succeeding in scaring each other as they made jokes about seeing ghosts.
“This is the best,” Audrey exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. “The man outside told me they’d have zombies here to make things scarier.”
I managed a sick smile as I moved to follow the girls, now squealing, as they crept past the door.
Audrey caught my arm, frowning. “Where are you going?”
“Inside?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Where’s your sense of adventure? We’ll take the other door and see where it leads.” She opened the blue door, gesturing me to follow her. “Come on.” I had a bad feeling about this, and when a loud gust of wind shut the door closed behind us, it took every ounce of my courage not to run away.
We found ourselves in a small cubicle, our reflections staring back at us from the front, left, and right. It was even darker here, with just the tiniest glow of yellow light from the ceiling.
Of course, my Evren sight made me see things more clearly. Audrey was wide-eyed in fear and her giggle was high-pitched and tinged with nervousness.
“Don’t you be scared, Audrey. That’s my role.” Evren or not, the House of Mirrors was a creepy place, and I had the strongest urge to go back.
Then again, why shouldn’t I?
“No,” Audrey protested when I moved to open the door behind us. She looked more relaxed now and took my hand in a firmer grip. “We can do this, Deli.” She began touching the mirrors and the one to our right slid back, revealing yet another cubicle of mirrors.
“See?” she boasted and pulled me in. The door closed behind us. We looked at the mirror in front us, saw the zombie grinning at us from behind and screamed.
Oh, God, save me.
I ran through more cubicles of mirrors. Audrey and I had parted ways in our confusion, and I had no idea how to find her, much less find a way out.
Should I turn Evren now?
If I turned into a dragon, I was pretty sure I’d stop feeling frightened. No measly human in a zombie costume could ever scare me when I was twenty feet tall.
“Voice?”
I hurriedly relayed my dilemma and afterward, I asked anxiously, “What should I do?”
“Let me tell Lucian.”
“He’s not coming here. I already asked him—”
“This is different. Just stay where you are. Count backward from ten and he’ll be right beside you.”
“But—”
“Start now. Ten.”
I bit my lip and looked around furtively.
Nine.
I could still hear the younger girls screaming but there was no sound of Audrey. She was probably just as scared as I was but just too proud to shriek.
Eight.
I fidgeted, trying to look anywhere but my reflections, which was hard, since they were all around me.
Seven.
Oh, God, Lucian, hurry up or I’m going to panic, and then I’ll turn Evren and I won’t care if the whole United States of America sees me.
Six.
I froze when I felt the door of a nearby cubicle squeaking open. Oh, drat. What if it was another zombie? I clenched my teeth, hugging myself tightly.
The do
or directly to my right opened slowly and I forgot counting by the second.
Five, four, three, two, one!
To heck with waiting. I got ready to scream myself into Evren, but a hand suddenly clamped down on my mouth. And then I was being whisked away, traveling through cubicles without pause.