Knowing You_The Cursed Series Part 2

by Rebecca Donovan

  “Did I do something wrong?” His expression is mixed with fear and concern. “Lana?”

  “I can’t do this.” My words are slow and methodical, like I’m coming to this realization as I’m saying it. My heartbeat slows and returns to normal. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Uh,” he says, unable to respond because he knows it felt amazing. But that’s not what I mean. It didn’t feel right, emotionally. I wasn’t connected. And I’m not saying I need to have feelings to kiss him. But considering how much passion there was behind it, I should feel something.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, my eyes flickering between his, trying to find words to explain. To erase the pain that causes his eyes to flinch. But how do I tell him that what we have between us is an illusion. The draw. The attraction. The need. It’s just lust. And the part of me that fought to break free from the enchantment of his touch, knows it’s not what I want. “I wish it was more.”

  “Do you? Really?” He sits on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. “Because if you do, then let it be more. I have feelings for you, Lana. It’s not just physical for me.”

  “It’s just physical for me,” I say in a whisper. He closes his eyes as if absorbing a blow. Damn my curse. “That’s what I mean. I wish it was more than that. But it’s not. And that’s why I’m sorry.”

  He nods slowly.

  “And Joey, how can you possibly have feelings for me? We only had one night—”

  “You don’t remember,” he says with a humorless laugh. “I’ve met you before, Lana.”

  I narrow my eyes, searching my memory. “I would have remembered.”

  if this could be true. “I would have remembered.”

  “Guess not,” he says with a defeated shake of his head. “I was at a house party in Sherling with Lincoln the summer before freshman year. You were there with the girls. We talked for a while. I wanted to ask for your number, but you disappeared.”

  “Was … Parker there too?” I ask, searching my memory. Joey couldn’t have looked that different in just two years. That was the summer Parker kissed me. I talked to him at a party for a long time, or at least, I thought it was him.

  “I think so.”

  Please don’t tell me I confused them. It was dark. We were crammed into some basement apartment. When I came back from the bathroom, I couldn’t find the guy I’d been talking to, so I found a corner to observe everyone like I usually do. That’s where the guy I was looking for found me. But it was Parker who kissed me. I kissed the wrong guy.

  I try to process this as Joey continues.

  “I’d see you out sometimes when I was with my brother. We didn’t speak again, not until last month. I wanted to talk to you so many times. But … you’re intimidating.”

  “Seriously?” I laugh, suddenly wondering if it would be different between us if he had been the one I kissed that summer, and not Parker. Maybe I’d feel a connection beyond the physical, like he feels for me, if we had more moments together, getting to know each other.

  “It was hard crushing on you from afar,” he admits with a crooked grin, his dimple creasing. He is gorgeous, there’s no denying that. And for a minute, I’m tempted to ignore the voice in my head and jump on him. But I know he wants more than that, and then I’d be lying to him. He deserves better.

  “You used to come over our house when we were kids,” he says, catching me off guard. “We were young, like really little. Did you know that?”

  "I shake my head." Surprised, but not.

  “I don’t really remember it either. But I found some pictures and videos stored away while I was in the attic last week.”

  “How does my mother know your family?” I ask, having never come across a single picture of her with the Harrisons.

  “I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me much when I asked about the people in the pictures, only that they all lost touch. But I knew the girl in some of them was you. It’s hard not to recognize you, even when you were barely walking.”

  “Don’t you think it’s strange, that we knew each other when we were little? And now neither of our families will admit it? Especially since your dad’s helping me.” This leads me to ask, “Do you know if he’s paying for me to attend Blackwood?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers, surprised by the question. “The whole thing is strange. I didn’t know he already knew your mother when I asked him to represent you.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating. “I’ve been working for him in his office this summer. I can look into it, if you want. If it’s important to you. Maybe he represented her or something?”

  “I’d like to know,” I say, grateful. “I don’t like secrets. They’re almost as bad as lies.”

  “But don’t you have your own … secrets?”

  “I don’t have many. And you know one of them.”

  “You can trust me.” His brilliant blue eyes pierce mine, and a rush of sparking current flows down my limbs.

  “I know.” And I really do. I’m convinced Joey’s honorable and will do what is right to protect the people he cares about—Honor is most likely his curse. This could explain his struggle to keep my secret, because he wants to do what’s right for Allie as well.

  “I wish you could trust me with you too.”

  I can only offer a weak smile in apology.

  He stands, smoothing out his clothes. “Friends?”

  “Don’t you hate that word?” I tease.

  “Right now, more than any other. But I don’t want to lose you … again.”

  “You won’t.” I walk over to him. As soon as I embrace him, I can feel the electric surge begin to take over, and I quickly break the connection.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t …” he says, his chest rising.

  “Touch?” I want to laugh. “It’s intense, isn’t it?”

  Joey shrugs, his cheeks reddening. I bite my lip in regret, realizing it was even more for him than it was for me.

  He walks to the door and waits for me. “C’mon. Let’s celebrate you.”

  A few eyes follow us when we walk down the stairs together. But I honestly don’t care. Let them think what they want.

  “Birthday girl!” Ashton hollers from the bar. I smile. “Come have another drink with me!”

  I turn to ask Joey to join us, but he’s already outside. I understand the need to escape me. But the distance hurts. I can feel the chill of his absence. I also feel free of something that was trying to take over. I never want to be controlled, not even by my own impulses.

  I accept the champagne flute from Ashton and clink with her glass.

  She leans close to me and whispers conspiratorially, “I’m going back to the school with Brendan.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nods with a wicked smile.

  “He doesn’t have an overnight pass?”

  “I don’t think anyone at Blackwood would ever trust Brendan with an overnight pass,” she shares with a chuckle.

  “Then no more drinks for you.” I take hers out of her hand and swallow it down way too fast. I think I’m about to sputter bubbles out of my nose. “That was horrible.” I shiver.

  Ashton laughs at me and picks up a bottle of water instead.

  “I guess someone should have sex on my birthday.” I sigh, toasting to her water bottle. “Just please don’t ever share details about the two of you.” I wince at just the thought of Brendan—I can’t even finish the thought.

  We walk back out to the deck where Lily and Kaely lure us onto the dance floor. There are still a crazy number of people here and, for the first time, I wonder what time it is. But then quickly decide that it doesn’t matter—I don’t have a curfew tonight!

  At some point during the next dozen or so songs, my shoes come off, and I lose Ashton to Brendan.

  Before he leaves, he kisses me on the top of the head, and whispers in my ear, “You really do look like a princess.” Then quickly adds, “Don’t hurt me for saying it.” Ashton drags him away before he can see
my stunned reaction at hearing the same words Allie said to me. Kaely takes my hand and spins me around, shaking me from my stupor. Lily hands me another shot.

  What feels like hours later, but I’m not keeping track, the music transitions to something quiet and soulful. People start collapsing on furniture—talking, kissing, or passing out. I fumble my way to the end of the dock and sit to dip my sore feet in the water. Oddly the water feels warmer than the air. I hadn’t realized how cool it had become outside until I stopped moving.

  I shiver.

  A sports jacket is draped around me. I tuck my nose into its collar without searching for its owner. It smells of ocean and sunshine. I don’t know where I come up with those scents, but that’s what it reminds me of. Grant appears next to me, his dark dress pants rolled up and his shoes off. He dips his feet into the water.

  “Happy birthday, Lana.”

  My eyes tear up. I have no idea where this sudden burst of emotion comes from. I blame the case of champagne I consumed tonight. Or … maybe …it’s him. Because seeing his beautiful face next to me right now makes my heart ache in the best way. “You’re here,” I choke out.

  “Hey,” he says soothingly, pulling me against him so I’m nuzzled under his arm with my head on his chest. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I actually didn’t know about tonight until … well it doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

  “And I’m so not, not, sober,” I hiccup between my emotions, swiping a fat tear from my cheek.

  Grant laughs. “Didn’t expect you to be.” He runs a hand down my hair. “You look beautiful.”

  I tilt my head up lazily. “I looked so much better earlier.”

  “Then I’m glad I wasn’t here. I may have broken my own promise.” He smiles warmly. He’s wearing a white button down, unbuttoned enough to make my eyes wander, wishing I could see more. His body was made for a suit, making him appear refined and … well, princely.

  “You look beautiful, too,” I tell him, because he does.

  His mouth quirks as he brushes a hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “How was your birthday?”

  “Fun,” I tell him. “We danced … a lot.”

  “You like to dance?”

  “Love it.”

  He eases away. I gasp in despair at the separation. He towers above me. “Then dance with me.” He offers me his hand. I grin and take it, getting up unsteadily onto my feet and letting his jacket fall from my shoulders. And that’s when it becomes apparent, that I am a miniature human next to his broad, gigantic frame. But he doesn’t tease me or make a comment about how tiny I am, like he easily could. Instead, he takes one of my hands and twirls me, my dress floating petals. I laugh giddily as he settles me against him, my hand still cupped in his, pressed over his heart. He wraps his other arm protectively around me, not letting me falter, and it’s like the foot difference doesn’t matter. We fit perfectly.

  I don’t hear music playing, but we find our own rhythm within the water rippling against the dock. The deck lights are all off except for a singular sconce outside the door. We sway beneath a sky of dazzling starlight.

  “Thank you for coming,” I tell him, my head pressed to his chest, my eyelids heavy.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

  After getting lost in him for an imaginary song or two, he asks, “Want to go inside?”

  “Sure.” When we turn toward the house, I catch sight of a silhouette standing before a window on the upper floor just before it disappears. “I wouldn’t have let you kiss me tonight, even if I were sober.”

  Grant stops. I fumble to sit in a chair in front of the dwindling fire pit. He lowers in a chair next to him.

  I cover my face with my hands and confess. “I kissed someone tonight.” I peek between my spread fingers, braced for his reaction. He remains quiet, waiting for more. There’s always more. My curse amplified by Grant, mixed with champagne, makes everything project from my mouth in a whirl of words. “I knew it felt wrong as soon as we kissed. But it was someone I’ve been with, and it happened. But it won’t ever happen again. And I just had to tell. I don’t know why.”

  “Wil?”

  I nod, not wanting to know how he knew. “Are you friends with him?”

  He nods. “We play lacrosse together.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want anything to do with me now? I have my own rule that I won’t ever touch a guy my friends have been with …”

  “I don’t have that rule,” he says with a small smile. “It doesn’t feel good to hear it. But that’s part of your curse, right? The honesty?”

  “I didn’t have to tell you,” I say collapsing dramatically against the chair, regretting that I did.

  “But you wanted to,” Grant takes my hand, “which means … something, even in your current state of questionable sobriety.” He grins, teasing. “You want to be honest with me. Even when it sucks. I don’t hate that. And I know we’re still … new. And you don’t date. So, we’ll figure this out.”

  “Whatever this is,” I say, knowing it isn’t anything I’ve experienced before. I can’t hold back with Grant. And as much as it should scare me to be this honest, this open, this exposed with him—even when I’m drunk—I’m not. I feel safe to be exactly who I am, my cursed Honest self.

  The song released from the beast’s mouth was not of love. It did not bring joy to Thaylina as it had in the woods. It broke her heart. She cried for him to stop. She begged to be released. Her pleas went unanswered. He hissed in her ear, “You wanted this.”

  I walk down the stairs the next morning with one eye cracked open and a piercing headache.

  “Why are there so many windows?” I mutter, unable to escape the sunlight that makes everything hurt so much worse.

  “Good morning,” Lily chimes, sipping from a champagne glass with orange juice in it. “Mimosa?”

  “Champagne hates me,” I grumble, sitting on the stool and rubbing my temples.

  “Or we have leftover birthday cake?”

  I smile, or try to, because even that slight facial movement cracks my skull. “Yes, please.”

  “Where’s everyone?” I ask, expecting more people sprawled out or grumbling with hangovers alongside me.

  “Just you and me. Joey left with Grant last night. I’m not sure where Lance went. And everyone else crawled out of here when they were sober enough to drive earlier this morning.”

  I stopped listening to everything after “Joey left with Grant.” I’m trying to decide if the two of them leaving together should be freaking me out as much as it is. Freak out aside, I had wanted to talk to Joey this morning about getting in touch with Nina and Tori.

  Using the maps app, the only app on the phone, I looked up the numbers to the strip club where Nina works and a couple of the bars we go to in Sherling. But the people answering the phones were uncooperative and unwilling to ask around for them. Douches.

  I also discovered while exploring the phone that it doesn’t have texting or camera capability, and everything beyond the volume and contacts page is passcode protected. And I don’t have the passcode. So basically, its only purpose is to receive and place calls to Joey. I’d call him now, except … he’s with Grant.

  Lily sets down a huge slice of chocolate cake in front of me.

  “Thank you so much for last night,” I tell her, digging the fork into the frosting. “It was a really amazing birthday.”

  “My pleasure,” she says with a genuine smile. “What were your three wishes?”

  Ashton declared that I get three wishes, because that’s how it should always be. To which, Brendan snidely remarked, “Be careful what you wish for. You may not be able to handle three of me.” He received an elbow in the ribs from both me and Ashton.

  My first wish was for Allie. That she fully recover and be avenged.

  The second was for my mother. That her heart and body be healthy and she find peace. (I blame Jasmine for the last part.)

  And the third wish was for me. I pau
sed before making it, looking around the room at the people surrounding me, smiling and laughing. Then I proceeded to blow out every lit candle, wishing that I always know who are my true friends.

  “If I tell you, they won’t come true.” I stuff a mound of cake into my mouth.

  Lily releases a small tinkling laugh. “Do you believe that?”

  “Do you believe they’ll come true at all, whether I say them out loud or not?”

  “I think we always receive what we deserve, and belief has very little to do with it. It has more to do with our character and how that balances out on the scales of good and evil. Can’t have one without the other, right?”

  I study her curiously. “But isn’t good always supposed to win in the end?” I can barely function, forget about contemplate karmic balance. And we’re going down a strange and windy path right now. Because I know good doesn’t always win.

  “I think so,” she answers, her lips smiling around the glass as she tips it back. “At least I hope it will.”

  Lily drops me off at the country club for my afternoon shift. Being on the bev cart with Ashton for the afternoon is both a blessing and a curse. It’s easy. But her erratic driving makes my head splinter in half and my stomach turn, so I’m pretty miserable most of the shift. When we get back to the school, I skip dinner to take a nap. I set an alarm since I still have to go to the library to pick out a book for the American government report.

  When I wake, I’m feeling better, but not great. The last thing I want to do is go to the library. I dump out my overnight bag on the bed, in search of my Blackwood phone that I dropped into it after I arrived. An envelope slips out from within the box Joey used for my headband. It seems too big to be a birthday card.

  Inside is a black and white photo of a group of people sitting on a sloping lawn. Behind them, I can make out a fraction of a wrap-around porch attached to a large white house that’s too big to fit in the frame. The group appears to be having a picnic; a platter of food and glasses are spread out on several blankets. And as much as it initially appears to be a posed group photo, there’s a sense of movement, like the picture was taken before anyone was ready. Two younger women, maybe teenagers, are sitting close, laughing with open mouths. Another woman is facing away; her face obscured by dark hair. A smiling man is bent down, scooping up a small laughing boy, and a visibly pregnant woman is watching them adoringly. Another woman is smiling for the camera, but appears distracted, looking sidelong at a man who seems to be the only one ready, posing with a tight-lipped smile. I absorb the entire scene at once. My attention narrows in on the blonde with the ponytail who’s laughing beside the girl with an Audrey Hepburn inspired pixie. She looks just like me.