Very Bad Things

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Very Bad Things Page 18

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

“Having trouble in Cal already?” she said with a smile, arching her brows. Even though I had no right to her, her smile for him pissed me off. She should only tease with me. Which was fucking ridiculous.

  He blushed. “No, something else.”

  She hesitated, cutting her eyes at me. Hell yeah, I was listening. I was angry and maybe even hurt at the way she seemed to gravitate toward this guy.

  “Uh, okay. You still got my number?” she asked him.

  He smirked cockily. “Had it for years, sweetheart. I’ve got it memorized.” He patted where his heart was.

  Now, she blushed. Was she fucking him?

  “Alright then, call me later,” she said, waving at him as he jogged backwards to the school, smiling at her the entire time.

  She turned back around and started walking toward her car, avoiding my eyes.

  “Who was that?” I asked, not caring about the tightness in my voice.

  She kept walking.

  I swallowed. “Nora, I’m talking to you.”

  She stopped and glared at me. “Seriously? Fuck you, Leo. Who I talk to is none of your business.”

  I looked away, deserving every bit of that. “I got my car back this morning,” I said, patting the hood.

  She sighed, her eyes running over the Escalade. “I’m sorry for all the trouble it must have caused you.” Then she nodded, like she was done talking and walked over to her driver’s side door.

  “Wait, don’t go. I’ve got something for you,” I said, running back to my vehicle, opening the door, and grabbing what I’d brought for her off the seat. I felt compelled to give it to her.

  “Why?” she snapped once I’d turned back to face her.

  I huffed. “I don’t know, okay. I just wanted to see you for a minute and give you this,” I said, gesturing at the book in my hand.

  I walked toward her. “Sebastian said you’re staying with your aunt. Do you need anything? You know we have an extra room if you want to stay with us.”

  I meant those words. I wanted to protect her. Sebastian hadn’t said why she’d left home, but I sensed it had something to do with why she’d made that list.

  “I’m fine. I don’t think I’ll need your extra bedroom again,” she said curtly, still poised to get in her car.

  I stood next to her and stuck the book out. She stared at it but didn’t take it.

  She looked back up at me. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a fucking book, Nora. For you,” I said, hating the gulf between us. “Please. Take it. I thought about you when I saw it.” That was a lie. I’d searched for three hours for the damn thing, so she could have it.

  She took it. “A guide to Paris?” she asked, staring at the Eiffel Tower on the cover. She read the title, “The Most Beautiful Walk in the World: A Pedestrian in Paris.” She got quiet, and I watched her face, seeing it soften a little.

  “Is this for me?” she asked with a quiver in her voice. She coughed to cover it up.

  “Um, yeah. I remembered Paris was your happy story, and I came across this in some of my mom’s things. Just thought of you, that’s all. You don’t have to read it or anything. It’s just an old book.” I shrugged.

  She opened the cover and gasped. “Leo, your dad gave this to your mom. Look, he even wrote her a love note,” she said, showing me Dad’s sprawling handwriting inside the cover. “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”

  “Yes,” I said, swallowing. Most definitely.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, giving me an unsure look, like she didn’t understand me. Yeah, well, I didn’t understand me either.

  I watched her flip through the pages, her face relaxed with pleasure as she peered at the pictures. It felt good, seeing her smile again.

  She tucked the book in her backpack and unlocked her car door, ready to leave me. She liked my gift, but she couldn’t wait to get away from me. I didn’t blame her.

  I had to make her listen to me. “Nora, wait. I want you to know that I think about you . . . all the time. I tell you shit I’ve never told anyone. About my parents. You’re not like any girl I’ve ever met. You make me laugh, you’re smart, you’re beautiful . . .” I stopped, my voice drifting off. Fuck. This was all coming out wrong. I never meant to say any of that.

  I reigned myself back in. “I want you around. I need you as my friend.”

  “But that’s it, right?”

  I nodded, reaching out to touch her hand, dying for just some small contact. The last time we’d touched had been our kiss and that had been days ago.

  She moved her hand away from me. “I got your message loud and clear this weekend, friend. There’s no need to remind me.”

  I groaned. What could I say? I couldn’t admit my feelings. If I came clean about everything, it would be disastrous for us. I’d fuck her, get scared, and then leave her. Or she’d leave me.

  It would be best to let it go, to let her go.

  “It’s hard to give up something when it’s everything you want.”

  –Nora Blakely

  THE NEXT DAY, I walked over to the gym for our first band practice. Everyone was there but Leo, and I wondered if he would show.

  As we got ready, Teddy pulled out his camera and snapped pictures of us setting up the equipment. It made him happy. When he heard I’d bought the music to “Girl on Fire,” he turned his camera off and insisted on me playing it. I laid out the music, and we sat down together at the piano. Sebastian gave Vixen the drum music, grabbed his guitar and turned on the sound system.

  “Are your ears on?” I asked Teddy.

  He cocked his head awkwardly and spoke in his high voice, “Yes, my ears are on the side of my head.”

  I grinned even though he wasn’t looking. “That was a joke. What I meant to say was . . . are you ready to listen to the song?”

  He stared at my forehead. “Jokes are hard to get.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My sister says I annoy people. There was a girl at church I liked, but she told me I never shut up about music and pictures.”

  “You don’t annoy me. You’re just different, Teddy, but I’m different, too.”

  He thought for a moment. “How are you different?”

  “I have a high IQ. I fixate on words. I count things. Lately, I’ve been breaking things. I get obsessed with things like piano, sewing, or people watching.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t say anything, because it makes people uncomfortable, but in my head, I assign everyone an animal.” I tapped my temple. “I got a whole menagerie of people-animals running around up here.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hey, I got a problem.” I laughed.

  “What animal am I?” he asked.

  “An elephant,” I replied immediately since I’d lain awake for the past few nights thinking about it, “because you’re strong. And like me, you’re what I call quietly watchful which means you study people, but they don’t see it. They focus on the elephant’s large frame, or in your case, they see your autism.”

  Teddy blinked. “You’re good.”

  I grinned.

  “Vixen?” he asked.

  “A female fox, of course.”

  “Sebastian?”

  I chewed on my lip. “Still working on that one.”

  “Leo?”

  “Most days he’s a tiger, but sometimes he’s a stubborn rat.”

  Teddy nodded, like he could totally see it.

  I added seriously, “You know, sometimes I feel sad.”

  “My sister makes me a grilled cheese when I’m sad. I like that. What do you do?” he asked.

  “Well, I try to be brave.”

  “How?” he said, his eyes studying the piano keys.

  “By facing my fears. By admitting that something bad happened to me. I think that’s bravery.”

  Our attention was abruptly taken by Leo as he stalked into the room and picked up his guitar. “Sorry, I’m late. Interviews went longer than I thought,” he told us.

  Sebastian looked u
p from his sheet music. “Who’d you hire?”

  “An office manager and two more personal trainers.”

  Sebastian flicked his eyes at me. “Nora needs a job after school.”

  My mouth opened at Sebastian’s words. I knew he meant well, but I couldn’t work here and be around Leo all the time. I glared at him with my eyes, telling him telepathically, When we are alone, I will kill you slowly by beating your guitar over your head.

  Sebastian’s eyes said, Oh yeah? Bring it.

  Leo flashed his eyes at me. “I asked you if you needed anything, and you said no. Why didn’t you tell me you needed money, Nora?” Leo said, his hands gripping his guitar. Like he was angry.

  “I’m working at the bakery,” I said, giving Sebastian one more dark look.

  Sebastian shrugged. “Her parents aren’t helping her.”

  “Hello, right here,” I muttered.

  Sebastian ignored me. “She could work the afternoon shift, and then use the gym to take a shower ’cause she doesn’t have a real bathroom at Portia’s. And, dude, the room where she sleeps is tiny,” he finished with a dramatic shake of his head.

  I gasped aloud at his blatant lie. Yeah, it was a small room, but he hadn’t been up there.

  “Sebastian—” I started.

  “You know you need the money, Nora,” Sebastian said.

  I paused, knowing he was right. Who knew what expenses I’d have this year. What if my car broke down? What if something happened to Aunt Portia? I had to be more responsible and focus on providing for myself. Plus, I still hadn’t heard back from my dad about my winnings.

  I nodded uncertainly, not sure what I was agreeing to.

  “Done,” Leo said. “You can start whenever you’re ready since we’re already getting membership requests and phone calls. It’d be great if you could man the front desk.”

  He seemed to freeze as he waited for my reply, and I wondered if he was anxious about me working here. Did he think it was a bad idea?

  It would be hard to be around Leo. How would I react the next time I saw him with Tiffani?

  “Great, I’ll do it,” I said quickly before I thought too long and changed my mind.

  Leo smiled. “If that’s settled, then let’s practice.”

  He nodded at me and strummed the first chords of “Girl on Fire,” and I joined in with the piano, immediately becoming immersed in the sound as Vixen tapped in with a gentle drum beat. It was a slow song, almost liquid like, with its smooth music and Sebastian’s gentle vocals. As he sang about how the girl burns like fire and takes on the world and triumphs, I wanted to be that girl. I would be that girl. When Sebastian got to the chorus, Leo’s deep voice sang back up, and after a moment, even though my voice was awful, I did too. You know those people that think they can sing, but really can’t? Well, that’s not me. I knew I couldn’t sing worth crap, but I played on and sang anyway.

  After we’d played it a few more times, the others went to get drinks. Teddy and I stayed behind and ran through the keys a bit more. Fifteen minutes later, he had the notes down. When he played it back for me, it wasn’t perfect or exactly from the music sheet, but it sounded incredible. Whatever little discrepancies there were, he made up for it by adding his own style to it.

  “Teddy, you’re one amazing dude, you know that?”

  He stared at the wall. “So are you. You’re amazing, but not a dude.”

  I laughed out loud. “Was that a joke?”

  He smiled shyly. “Yeah, how was it?”

  “Awesome.”

  “You can’t make someone love you.”

  –Nora Blakely

  AFTER VIXEN’S PARENTS picked her up and Teddy left with his sister, Sebastian asked me to stay for dinner. I’d had plans to eat a sandwich and soup at Aunt Portia’s, so I called her and told her I was eating with Sebastian. She was relieved, I think, because it gave her reason to go ahead and head off home. I knew she loved me and wanted to help me, but I hated to disrupt her life.

  It might be a little weird to hang out with Leo, but I was adamant about getting over him. Plus, things seemed to have smoothed over a bit at practice. He’d offered me the job, and my gut sensed he genuinely wanted to help me.

  Was it possible for us to be friends?

  I think we had to try if I wanted to hang out with Sebastian.

  Because I’d gotten sweaty playing piano, I took a quick shower first at the gym and then walked back over to my attic space. I changed into a pair of jeans and a halter-style red shirt that was part of some new clothes Aunt Portia and I had gotten over the weekend. It felt good to wear something I’d picked out. I put my hair up in a high ponytail, slipped on some leopard print ballet flats and headed out the door. Mila called on the way over to the gym to say that Sebastian had invited her, too.

  When I walked back in the loft, Sebastian was nowhere to be seen, but Leo was pacing around the kitchen, getting ready to cook. He’d taken a shower, and his blond hair was still damp and curling around his ears. He wore track pants that hung low on his hips and a Club Vita muscle shirt that showed the definition in his chest. The long body of his dragon was visible, and I wanted to stare at it, but I tore my eyes away. Some of the tension between us seemed to have lessened, and I didn’t want to bring it back.

  “You’re not going to hit me with that are you?” I asked him ruefully, eyeing a pan he’d pulled out of the cabinet.

  “Only if you refuse to help me cook my famous spaghetti sauce,” he said with a hesitant grin.

  He waved me over. “Come on and help me cook.” His eyes flicked down the hall. “Sebastian’s in the shower anyway.”

  I walked over to the counter where he’d set out items to make a red sauce. “Homemade, huh?”

  He nodded.

  I picked up the sugar he’d set out. “Sugar in spaghetti?”

  “Everything needs a little sweet in it,” he said, staring at my mouth.

  “I’ve never had homemade,” I said.

  “How does your mom make hers?” he asked me, starting to chop the tomatoes. He slid the oregano over to me and handed me a small cutting board and a paring knife. “Here, be useful.”

  I chopped. “My mom doesn’t cook. Now, if you asked her to organize a charity dinner for five hundred people, she’d do that in a snap.”

  “What charities does she promote?”

  I kept my eyes down. “Whichever makes her look the best.”

  “You never said why you moved out,” he said quietly.

  I flinched, and he stopped chopping to look at me. “I’m not letting you eat until you tell me and that includes dessert, Buttercup.”

  I blinked at his teasing. This was a big leap from the day before when he’d given me the Paris book. That whole conversation had been strange. But if I wanted us to be friends, I had to get past the fact that he didn’t want to be with me.

  I smiled. “Hmmm, I guess it depends on what’s for dessert.”

  He smiled back. “It’s a surprise, so give me the deets.”

  I shrugged and gave him the G-rated version. “Mother found out I dropped most of my classes and extracurriculars. Appearances are important to her. She flipped out.”

  A few seconds ticked by, and I admitted, “She may have found some cocaine in my purse . . .” I held my hand up at Leo’s suddenly very angry face. “I didn’t snort it, Leo.”

  His mouth tightened as he attacked the onions and garlic he’d put in the sauté pan. Wanting to explain more to him, but scared of the questions it might raise, I tried to ignore him. I reached up to the pot hanger above the island and took down a stock pot to boil the noodles.

  His silence was killing me.

  “I’m not a druggie,” I told him after I couldn’t stand it anymore. Cocaine had been a stupid idea. When Finn had forced me to take it, I’d been a zombie.

  He stared at me, his eyes disappointed.

  I sighed. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to promise me you aren’t
going to do drugs or anything else on that shitty list.”

  “I’ve dyed my hair and got a nipple piercing. So what?”

  “Yeah,” he said, gazing at my chest.

  I crossed my arms and glared at him. Don’t even think about it, mister.

  “What else have you done? Random sex?” he asked, standing there motionless, not paying any attention to the hot pan sizzling on the stove.

  I shrugged, deciding to not admit I’d abandoned my list. Why did he care if I had random sex with someone?

  “Cuba’s willing,” I said.

  “What do you mean Cuba’s willing?” he said, slamming down his cooking utensil.

  “He wants me, and maybe I want him. He is hot. And I love his hard body,” I piped up, embellishing the story a little. “Of course, I gotta work out the whole ménage thing. I tend to want all the attention.”

  Leo’s nose flared. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, he wants to.”

  “Stay away from Cuba Hudson,” he snapped at me.

  “Why?” I said. “Because you’re jealous? Because you won’t have me, so no one can? It doesn’t work like that, Leo.”

  He stood there with clenched fists, and I just didn’t get his reaction. He claimed he didn’t care about me in a girlfriend way, yet he was angry.

  Seeing his tense stance reminded me of the tiger in him. With a name like Leo you’d think he’d be the lion type, but he wasn’t reticent enough. Lions are a bit on the lazy side, basking in the sun, expecting the lioness to drag home the kill and let him eat first.

  But male tigers are different. They hunt and let the female and the cubs eat first. They’re caretakers, just like Leo. I mean, couldn’t he see how he took care of others? Sebastian, Teddy, and even me? Yet, he wouldn’t let love in.

  He wouldn’t allow anyone to take care of him.

  Or maybe he was letting love in. Maybe he did love Tiffani. I wanted to barf.

  “You have no right to tell me to stay away from someone when you have your psychic,” I said.

  He seemed to deflate. “You’re right, and I’ll drop Cuba, but I want you to listen to me,” he said. “A junkie killed my parents, and it fucking freaks me out that you might have used drugs. If you need help, I’ll get it for you. I know your parents have cut you off, but I’ll give you everything: a place to live, money, rehab, college. If anything ever happened to you—” he looked back down at the pan on the stove.

 

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