I speak so Lance can overhear every word. “Um... I guess that he doesn’t screw over his friends, and the friends he does screw, he’s super sweet to and would never do anything to hurt. Because he’s noble and will do whatever he can to protect her from being hurt.”
Lance groans. “Kaely knows how I feel. So butt out.”
Ashton and I laugh.
“You are protective of your friends, aren’t you?” Grant whispers.
“Ssshh,” Ashton hisses. “You’re not here.”
The room fills with groggy laughter.
“We should go,” Brendan announces, rolling off the bed. Ashton protests when he moves away. He leans down and kisses her cheek. “We need to be out of here before the rest of campus wakes.” Then he randomly adds, “And why the hell is Lance’s curse Nobility and Grant’s is Integrity, while I’m stuck with Perception?” He sounds seriously upset by this.
“I don’t make them up,” I tell him. “You are the professional stalker after all.”
“What?” Grant pokes his head around my shoulder to glare at Brendan.
“She’s kidding,” Brendan says in attempt to put Grant at ease.
“Not really,” Lance chimes in.
“I’ll explain later.” I kiss Grant’s hand. “But you guys really should go. I’m already in trouble.”
“Why?” Grant questions with concern.
“Wow, you really don’t tell him anything, do you?” Brendan accuses. I shoot him a threatening look, and he reveals his arrogant smirk.
Grant kisses my forehead and crawls out of the bed. His hair is rumpled, as is his shirt. I think he may look even more amazing first thing in the morning, all mussed up. Even more than he did in his suit. Well, maybe not.
“Are you undressing him with your mind?” Ashton asks. I reach up to cover her mouth with my hand. But because it’s my left hand, I end up swatting her in the forehead.
“Ow!” she exclaims. “What was that for?”
Grant chuckles. “You guys are … I don’t even know. I’m glad I got to see it though.” He directs his attention to me. “Are you working at the club this afternoon or at the event tonight?”
“Tonight,” I answer, hopeful he says the same.
“Me too!” Ashton exclaims.
“I think we all are,” Brendan says, but then looks to Lance. “Except pretty boy over here. How did you get out of work—” Then he shuts up, realizing we have a new person in the room who doesn’t know we all have court fees or fines to work off. Blackwood’s privacy policies keep the rest of the world from knowing the truth about the requirements to being accepted here. I don’t think Grant does either.
Grant realizes that Brendan has stopped talking because of him. “Is this another thing you’re going to explain later?” he asks me.
I look around at everyone, asking for permission.
“Only if you’re a keeper,” Lance stipulates.
My eyes widen. “What?”
“He doesn’t get to know unless you two are serious. If he wants in on the group, and our secrets, he can’t be a fling.”
Everyone stares at me for the answer, including Grant.
“I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?” I confirm, not agreeing to anything. He nods.
After the guys leave, I face Ashton, biting at my lip nervously. “What do I tell him?
She shrugs like it’s a simple answer. “The truth.”
As the beast lay dead upon the forest floor, Thaylina bent down over his body. She did not see a handsome face, or a charming smile. Only the truth of what he truly was, a horrific monster. She lowered her mouth to his deadened ear and hissed, “I wanted this.”
The event at the country club is a wedding. I didn’t even know they held wedding receptions here, but I’ve never been on the event side of the Clubhouse either.
It’s the first wedding I’ve ever been to, and it’s … surreal. Watching the newly married couple dance, the family drink and celebrate. Everyone’s so … happy. Well, there are a few people seated at the farthest tables who are miserable … and drunk. Which is probably why they’re seated in Siberia. But for the most part, the room is filled with laughter and joy. If I were still the girl, before the magical brownies, I might go all Maleficent in here and scream that it’s all a lie. That their marriage won’t last longer than it takes for the bride to change her name on her credit cards.
Can’t say I’m a converted believer, exactly. Yes, I kinda-sorta confessed to Grant that I was in love with him. But that doesn’t mean I’m sold on happily-ever-after, or that love conquers all. I still don’t trust it not to go to shit.
“Weddings turn me on, so bad,” Ashton confesses as we watch the couple cut the cake and feed each other.
“Are you sure it’s not the three tiers of chocolate cake?” I tease.
“Well, that too. But it’s so … romantic.”
I try to hide my cringe.
“Really? I thought we conquered this phobia.”
“Sorry. It’s involuntary.” Speaking of romantic phobias. “Where’s Brendan?”
“Valeting.” Her eyes brighten. “I think I need a fifteen-minute break.”
This time I don’t hide my cringe. “Please bring sanitizer wipes with you.”
All of the servers are signaled to go back into the kitchen. “Need everyone in the kitchen for cake service,” I’m told by Nancy, the event manager.
I pass the room off the dining room where the bar is located. Stefan and Grant are behind it, serving and chatting with guests. Grant looks up just as I pass and smiles. I don’t know how he knows, it’s like he can sense when I’m nearby or something. I beam back at him, because … I’m an idiot.
I can’t look at Ashton too long when she returns, not without making the most revolted face ever. She’s seriously glowing, and her eyes are even sparkling.
“I want to be a good friend and ask you about you and Brendan, but at the same time, I don’t think my stomach can handle it.”
“What’s with you two, anyway? You act like children around each other.”
“He’s just…” I stick out my tongue in revulsion, “gross.” She laughs.
Grant appears behind us. “Hey.” We make room for him to stand between us, adhering to the “don’t turn your back on the guests” rule that has been drilled into us all night. “So Nancy offered to cut me, and I told her I was giving you a ride back to school.” I glance up at his mischievous grin. “Want to get out of here?”
“Can I?” I ask Ashton. She picks up on my concern. I don’t have a chaperone, aka Lance, to do whatever he’s supposed to do when he’s chaperoning. Which is basically yell at me when I punch douchebags and laugh at me when I get high. So he’s useless, and I’m more apt to do the right thing when I’m with Grant than any of the Harrison boys. I’ve basically just talked myself into leaving with Grant right now.
Ashton thinks for a minute. “I’ll have Brendan text you when we leave,” she tells Grant. “That way you can arrive around the same time we do. We’ll just tell them you had to stay a little after to clean something. I don’t know. Brendan’s better at this, but we’ll lie.”
“Thank you.” I hug her. “You’re my favorite liar.”
“Bring sanitizer wipes with you,” she calls after me. I make a face at her and follow Grant to the computer to clock out.
“What does that mean?” he asks. “Was she making a sex comment?”
My cheeks flush. “Sort of.”
“I don’t really get it,” he admits.
“It was a bad joke,” I tell him.
“Do you want to go back to the firefly field? I still have the blanket in my car.”
“Only if you let me drive.”
“Uh, do you have a license?”
“No. But I know how to drive.”
He hesitates. “You don’t know how to swim, but you know how to drive?”
“Do you really want to know how I learned how to drive?”
“Was
it illegal?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t know. Not yet.” And with a heavy exhale, he pulls out his keys. “How’s your hand?”
“Sore but fine. Won’t affect my driving, I swear,” I reply eagerly
“And you know how to drive stick?”
I nod, my eyes twinkling. He sets the keys in my hands, holds on to them for a contemplative second, and finally releases them. I throw my arms around him and squeal like Kaely.
“Why are you two still here?” Nancy asks. “If you don’t want to be cut—”
“We’re leaving right now,” Grant announces.
“I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” I tell him as I enter the event locker room to change.
Grant tries to remain calm when we pull out of the parking lot. It takes me a few gear changes to get used to his clutch. He traps his commentary behind pursed lips with every grind of the gears and jolt of the car. But I figure it out fast enough, and we fly through the wooded roads, the day settling into twilight. Grant probably wouldn’t have agreed to let me drive if it was already dark.
He soon figures out that I need more notice than a “turn here” if he doesn’t want to be forced to grip the outside of the door as I squeal around the corner. When we finally reach the firefly field, he visibly exhales like he hasn’t been breathing the entire car ride.
“Who taught you to drive?” he asks, stepping out of the car and taking another deep breath to settle his nerves.
“Um, I did,” I tell him. “You want to know the rest?”
“Give it to me,” he says, bracing himself.
“One of my best friend’s brothers used to steal cars, just to take them on joy rides. Sometimes we were with him. And sometimes he’d let us drive.”
“You had a very interesting childhood, didn’t you, Lana?” he replies, trying to make light of it. I can’t tell if he really is this easy going about my illegal escapades or he’s hiding his shock really well. I still question if this much honesty is good for him. Or me.
“Maybe you shouldn’t hear too much more about my colorful life,” I tell him. He retrieves the blanket from the trunk and takes my hand to walk out into the field. “Grant, you realize you and I are from complete opposite worlds, right? I mean, they write stories and stupid movies based on characters like us. We couldn’t be any more cliché if we tried.”
He spreads the blanket on the ground and sits, waiting for me to join him. “Why? Because I come from a stable home, and yours is a little more … free-spirited?”
“That was the nicest way of describing my insane life that I’ve ever heard,” I say, laughing. “Then again, it’s kind of what Ashton said when she called us unrated.”
He gives me a questioning look. “Basically the same thing,” I tell him. “My mother and I don’t have the typical parental relationship. Maybe because she was so young when she had me. Or maybe because I pretty much grew up overnight.” I shiver.
Grant swaths me in an embrace and rubs my arms to warm me up, thinking I’m cold.
“I had to help pay the bills after my grandmother died, so it’s been a crazy few years. And my tendency to get into fights hasn’t helped with the crazy.”
“But you have people who care about you, right? Your mom? Your friends?”
“I do. My mom is a kind and generous person. I worry about her because people take advantage. I love her, so I do what I can to protect her.”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“Maybe in your story. But in mine, we look out for each other. And since I tend to be more cynical and distrusting, I end up protecting her from herself.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother’s curse is Belief. She believes true love will find her. But that’s never going to happen. I’ve watched her believe she’s found the one so many times. But he ends up breaking her heart, leaving a little less of her behind each time. Eventually, there’s not going to be any of her left to give to anyone.”
Grant is quiet.
I wonder if I’ve finally said too much. But he did say he prefers honesty … even if it’s unfiltered.
“So these curses, they’re the thing we want the most?”
“Essentially. It’s the virtue we value above all others. Honesty is my curse, so I can’t lie. Yours is Integrity, because you always do what’s morally honorable.”
“But why are they curses?”
“Because they’re also our weaknesses. For example … Maybe someday you’ll be forced to make an impossible decision that challenges your integrity. But then that choice is hard to live with.”
“And you …”
“The truth is already ruining my life. It’s the reason I’m at Blackwood.” I quickly add before Grant can question me, “Please don’t ask me about it. I can’t tell you.”
“It’s that bad?”
“It’s one of a few truths I need to protect. Hopefully not always, but for now.”
“Protect?” he ponders, almost to himself. “So it has to do with someone else.” I remain silent.
“You don’t see the world, and probably don’t even live it, the way the rest of us do.”
I strip a blade of grass from the ground and suddenly find it riveting.
“That’s why I’m so drawn to you, you know? You’re honest with who you are. No apologies. No excuses. You’re different than everyone I’ve ever known. You said you have a colorful life, and that’s just it … you are colorful. Every single one. I don’t know how else to describe it.” He laughs. “You told me you’re more honest with me than anyone, and I’m not sure why that is, but I want to hear your truths.”
“For now,” I warn. “Grant, knowing the truth isn’t always a good thing.”
He contemplates this for a moment. “But it’s not the wrong thing either.”
“Did you lick the batter from Squirrel’s brownie bowl? Because you’re opening up a whole other conversation that I may need another brownie to participate in.”
Grant laughs. “I just mean, it is what it is. Either you accept it, deal with it, forgive it … or you don’t. It’s pretty much that simple.”
“You really have been hanging out with Squirrel too much,” I tease.
Grant dips me so I’m facing him. “I trust you.” I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“What?”
“I trust you.” He lowers me so my head is on his lap and I’m looking up at him. He runs a finger along my cheek, sweeping loose hairs away.
“Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know. But I needed you to know.” He smiles down at me. “So you really don’t believe in true love?”
“True love? What does that even mean? I can barely even say the word love without vomiting in my mouth.”
Grant laughs. “Wow. Okay.”
I sit up to really connect with him as I explain.
“I don’t know … I don’t think true love exists. It’s all an illusion we’re sold in bookstores and movie theatres to keep us hoping for our own happily-ever-after ending. To convince us that love is all we need to solve our problems.”
“Are you going to start singing?” He chuckles.
I shove at him playfully. “Anyway, I didn’t believe in it.”
“Didn’t? And now?”
“Well … after the magical brownie ride, I heard what Squirrel said. His explanation made more sense, and I can’t believe I’m saying that. But it did. More than anything else I’ve been fed. When he said love isn’t something we’re given outside of ourselves. That we don’t need anyone else to experience it, because … we are it—I understood that. I just wish he could have called it something different. Because everyone else’s love gets all tangled up in romantic gestures and waiting for someone to come rescue them. I’ve seen what that can do to a person.”
“Your mother?” he asks quietly.
I nod. “I won’t be her.” I let out a slow breath. “True love is bullshit.”
&n
bsp; Grant’s deep, raw laughter, that I adore so much, rumbles around us. “Then I’ll just remain an idiot.” I smile at him. He glances at me affectionately. “If it really bothers you, I won’t say it.”
I swallow. “Doesn’t this feel like it’s happening too fast? We’ve only known each other a few weeks. How can we know it’s real?”
Grant looks out at the fireflies and watches them for a bit. I fear I’ve been too honest again. I don’t want to dismiss whatever is happening between us, because I know it’s something. I’m overcome by it, and even though the word love drives me insane because of its commercial misuse, I know that’s where this connection comes from. But … it’s only been a few weeks, so how is it possible? How can I honestly believe it’ll last? How do I know it’ll be strong enough to withstand anything? Even something as simple as the start of the school year?
“How long have you known Ashton?” he asks, still focused on the fireflies.
“As long as I’ve known you.”
“And you tell her things, right? You trust her with your truths?”
“Most of them.”
He turns toward me. “But you care about her. Feel protective of her. If you used the word, you maybe even … love her?”
I nod slightly.
“It’s the same amount of time as you’ve known me. So why is it different? When you’re connected to someone, time doesn’t matter. It can feel like you’ve known them forever. And even though I don’t know your details, like when you lost your first tooth, or your favorite ice cream flavor, I know you. The rest is just … well, details. The most important thing is that feeling I have that lets me know that I can trust you. That you’re a good person. That allows me to see through your cynicism and recognize that you really do believe in love. You just don’t like what other people have done to abuse it.
“We’re connected, Lana, and despite where we came from, who are parents are, or what we were doing a month ago, it brought us here … together. And that’s pretty fricken amazing if you ask me. Because I didn’t know you even existed until a few weeks ago. But the moment I met you, it was like you’ve always existed in my life. You always belonged there. So we don’t have to say love, but I feel it.”
Knowing You_The Cursed Series Part 2 Page 29