A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance) (5 page)

I guess he was talking about being careful with my heart, because I’d let Seth stomp on it. I guess he was being like a big brother, which was nice, only it made me want to cry.

His hand slightly brushed mine as he handed me the card. “Sorry,” he said again, practically flinching.

Since our kiss, our relationship was so strained everything made him apologize, like that, just now. He just touched my hand, what was the big deal? Sure, it gave me tingles, but any time Gage touched me gave me tingles, he never noticed before. Was he apologizing because he felt guilty? Because now he somehow knew I liked him—like,
loved
him? Was it because of the way I kissed or something? Is that why our relationship was suddenly so awkward? Why he hadn’t come over when Izzie and I were playing pool? Did he feel trapped? Like our friendship had become a jail cell and he needed space, just like Addison was always saying?

I was going to keep it bottled up with the rest of my feelings, not say anything since I was afraid it would make things even more awkward between us. I clenched my teeth so the words couldn’t spill out, but then—ugh!—they did anyway. “Why are you apologizing all the time all of a sudden?” I muttered.

Gage cocked his head, looking confused. “You mean just now, when there was that painful shock when I touched you?” He leaned back in his seat. “Sorry, I apologize when I hurt people.”

For a minute I believed him—almost. Was there a shock? That explained. After all, he’d flinched. But I hadn’t felt a shock. I’d felt … tingles. That seemed to be the difference between us these days—what I thought was good, he thought was bad. It was confusing and left me feeling vulnerable.

I stared down at Logan’s note, the whole time feeling Gage’s eyes on me. It made it so at first I couldn’t focus on the words.
To Michaela. Because it is so versatile (and I don’t have a sister).

Gage waited, then raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

I stared up from the note into Gage’s questioning eyes. Suddenly, I was confused. Was he jealous? It almost seemed he was, almost, the way his eyes lingered on mine, looking hurt and tender, almost vulnerable. But no, of course he wasn’t jealous. That was crazy, this was Gage. He didn’t get jealous, of anyone. Besides, Addison was gorgeous and sophisticated and made him pant. I was just his friend, like a little sister to him. He was concerned for me, that was all, and I was a dork, imagining him acting jealous because I
wanted
him to be jealous. Wishful thinking and all that. Plus, I was all heated up from Logan’s gift and note. It had me thinking all romantic and fuzzy. But none of that mattered anyway, really. None of it. Because no matter what, I didn’t want to discuss Logan with Gage. It was too confusing. Not to mention, weird.

“Um...I have to go to the bathroom.”

I scooted out of the booth and motored away. I hid behind the wall, sort of hyperventilating—but not really. Just dealing with a lot of stuff. Gage and Logan. Logan and Gage. Suddenly, I was living the life of a Barbie. What was going on?

Gage had
kissed
me. He had held me in his arms and
kissed
me. Just thinking about that made me feel warm. And dizzy.

But then, Logan had kissed me, too. And bought me that dress.

I couldn’t handle my pulse. I needed to hide. Breathe. Alone. But Logan was watching me. I looked around and couldn’t see him. But I knew he was there. Somewhere.

I ducked into the bathroom.

Just breathe
, I told myself. It was just a dress. Not an engagement ring.

But I knew how much the dress cost.

I can give it back to him
, I reasoned. I could do it
politely
. But the thing was, I didn’t want to give the dress back. I
wanted
the dress. I was tired of wearing the same old dress over and over whenever I wanted to look nice.

Summer had gobs of clothes. Gobs and gobs. And she hardly worked. Ever. She would just ask Beth for money, and Beth would hand it over. I knew she would do that for me too, but I couldn’t ask her. I just couldn’t. We weren’t rich. Not by a long shot. Compared to Addison, we were desperately poor.

We needed new furniture and our dishwasher didn’t actually clean the dishes anymore, but we just kept using it. And Beth never bought anything for herself, ever. So, I couldn’t ask her for clothes, no way. I’d feel too guilty.

After all, she let me live at her house, and eat her food. And she treated me like I was her daughter. But I wasn’t. I had totally messed up her nice little life. It amazed me she didn’t throw me out on the street when my dad died. Pack me a sandwich and say, “Good riddance.”

But Beth wouldn’t do that. Not to anyone. She’s too nice. She kept me and loved me, and never treated me like a stray, not ever. She treated me as her own daughter. And I wished I was. With all of my heart, I wished I was.

I stared down at the dress with tears in my eyes.

“What kind of ties come with this?” I wondered aloud.

But I didn’t
really
think about keeping it. Not really and truly. I knew I had to give it back.

When I finally left the bathroom, I kind of looked around for Logan. I hadn’t talked to him since that night at the library. We didn’t have any classes together. I’d just notice him in the school halls now and then. Or I’d look up in the cafeteria and find him watching me. Stuff like that. But now—well, I just wanted to see him. Not talk to him or anything. Just see him.

But Pikes is a busy place. And it’s easy to miss a person—especially when they want to be missed. And I didn’t see Logan.

When I got back to the booth, Gage wasn’t there. He was playing pool with Conner, one of my close friends, though we hardly ever spoke anymore. Not since he got coupled with his girlfriend, Raven. She kept him chained to her pretty tight. I was surprised to see she wasn’t around.

Maybe he broke the lock?

I didn’t want to mess up their game, but I was running late. I stood back for a moment, watching them play. They’re both really good.

They were drawing a crowd. Kids from school were placing bets—quietly. ‘Cause they weren’t supposed to. They’d get kicked out if they got caught.

I blew the bangs out of my eyes, impatient. The game was only half over—if that. It didn’t look as though I was going to get any studying done.
Thanks a lot, Gage
.

I went back to the booth and boxed up the dress. Maybe I’d shove it in Logan’s car window or something. I wasn’t quite sure.

I thought about simply leaving, pronto. Would Gage even notice? But I decided I’d better not. Too rude. I figured I’d just say a quick, “’Bye.”

But as soon as I got near Gage, he swore under his breath.

“Don’t crowd me,” he growled.

I tilted my head. He never talked to me like that, ever. And the way he said it, it didn’t sound like he was just talking about the game—like he was under stress and needed me to “not crowd” him because he was making a shot. It wasn’t like that. It was more like he was talking about his life—his and mine. He wanted me to back off, not “crowd” him.

Just like Addison was always saying, exactly as Addison was always saying. I could hear her in my brain, annoyed and snippy,
“Give him space
.”

Everyone was looking at us—Izzie and Conner, and practically everyone from school. It was embarrassing and hurt so bad, as though I had been punched in the stomach.

“Yeah, okay.” Tears forming in my eyes, I backed away.

Gage reached for me. “Michaela, wait—”

I ran out of Pikes and I got into my car, throwing the dress in the back seat. For once my old clunker started right up. And that was good, ‘cause I would have used my powers if I had to. No way was I going to go back into Pikes to ask for a jump. I was never going back in there again. I was never going near Gage again.

CHAPTER 5

Don’t crowd me
. I can’t believe Gage said that to me. To
me
. We’d been friends since the second grade. Suddenly I was crowding him?

Fine.

I’d give him space. Plenty of it. All he wanted. I was never going near him again for the rest of my life. In fact, I was going to stay as far away from him as possible.

As soon as I got to work, Gage called. Not on my cell phone, ‘cause I don’t have one. He called the store. The first time I answered ‘cuz we don’t have caller ID, so I didn’t know it was him. If I had known, I would’ve thrown the phone in the toilet rather than answer. But yeah, I had no clue, so I was all, “Hello, you’ve reached Posh’s ladies’ section, this is Michaela, can I help you?” And I tried saying it all cheerful and friendly, like I’m supposed to, but it was hard. The words kept catching in my throat. I was afraid I was going to start bawling.

“Michaela, I’m sorry,” Gage said, sounding all genuine and sincere, and his normal awesome self. Hearing his apologetic, sweet voice made me stare up at the ceiling to keep tears from spilling down my face. It didn’t matter what he said though. There was nothing he could say. Still, he went on trying, “You know I didn’t mean it.”

I hung up on him, swiping at almost shed tears.

The phone rang again right after I hung up, but I didn’t answer. I let it ring and ring. Customers stared at me questioningly, so finally, I took it off the hook and left it on the counter.

I actually started
crying
while I was unloading a new shipment of sweaters. Crying! I don’t cry, well not in front of people, ever. Tears come to my eyes kind of easy, but I don’t let them out. I just don’t. Beth and Izzie and basically everyone I know think I’m tough, but it’s not that. I just...don’t cry. I just keep things in. But not now, tonight. I was bawling like a baby. The tears started rolling down my face like a parade. They wouldn’t stop.

“Michaela, sweetie, are you alright?” Jade, my boss, put a comforting arm around my shoulders, looking concerned.

I sniffled, shoving away fresh tears with my sleeves, then with the Kleenex she handed me, the words catching in my throat, “I had a fight with Gage.”

Jade only graduated from our high school two years ago. She was young and cool. And she knew Gage. She thought he was hot. She was always trying to tell me that Gage only used his girlfriends as a cover. That what he really “wanted” was me.

“I can tell by the way he stares at you when you’re not looking,” she’d say.

But that was pretty weak.

“Why doesn’t he ever make a move on me then?” I asked, like every time she brought it up. Jade would always give the same answer: “He’s afraid of screwing with your friendship.” She’d raise her eyebrows knowingly. “Smart boy.”

Jade was majoring in psychology. So maybe she knew people’s minds and motives better than Joe Blow off the street. But I was pretty sure her analysis of Gage was crap. For one thing, Gage liked Barbie Dolls—tall, blond, beauty queens. And that wasn’t me. For another, he had many, many, many opportunities to reach out and take me. And what happened when he finally did? When he kissed me? He was grossed out. Disgusted. Apparently. He couldn’t stand to be around me anymore. He told me not to crowd him.

“Look, I need to go home,” I told Jade. I felt lame, wimping out like that. But I was a mess. Crying! How pathetic. Geez, I never do that, cry.

Okay, I had cried on my drive to Posh. I cried all of the way over. But I had stayed in my car until I was finished. I thought I had at least a feeble grip on my emotions. And now I was almost done with my shift. Almost made it. But then Gage kept calling, and Shayna, a co-worker who I kind of hate, insisted we had to put the phone back on the receiver. And she kept taking his call and giving me his messages. And they were full of “sorrys” and “I care so much about you,” and finally it started a new flood of tears. Here. Now. In front of everyone.

“Sure,” Jade said, handing me tissue after tissue. “Go home. Take a bubble bath.”

So I did. I lit candles and everything. I was surprised my bath water didn’t spill over, though; my tears just kept coming and coming. They wouldn’t stop.

Don’t crowd me
. Why did he say that?

***

Tonight, when I woke screaming, Summer flipped on her nightstand light. It made me bolt awake.

“Get over yourself,” she growled. “No one’s coming to get you. No one
wants
you.”

If only.

Apparently, I’d been screaming about the exact thing that kept me worrying while I was awake. The cloaked people were coming to get me. But maybe they weren’t, right? Maybe it was all just horrible dreams, the after effects from using so much power to save Gage. Maybe that was all. After all, I hadn’t gotten any more dead roses, no more gifts at all. Except Logan’s. But it hadn’t been creepy or anonymous. He’d come right out and said it was from him.

I rolled over.

“Turn off the light,” I mumbled.

Summer settled back into bed, grumbling something about me being bad for her beauty sleep. “Why don’t you move into the attic?” she muttered for the ten-millionth time.

Why don’t you
, I wanted to say. But didn’t. ‘Cause it was dumb. If any one should move, it was me. I knew that. And if I wasn’t such a coward, I would.

Finally, I slipped out of bed. It was too wet from sweat to sleep in. Not that I could go back to sleep anyway. It felt like “they” were close. Maybe they weren’t. But it felt like it. They were coming.

Only maybe they still couldn’t find me. I couldn’t exactly remember my dream tonight, but it seemed they were hunting through woods with cloaks and torches. They were calling for me, searching.

So, maybe they weren’t here yet. Maybe they wouldn’t even come.

But …

I knew they would. Somehow, I knew. I could feel it, they were almost here.

I got a blanket out of the hall closet. I was going to sleep on the couch, but...the living room was too open, exposed. Instead, I curled up into a ball against Beth’s closed door.

I tried to think about Gage—about his kiss. But I couldn’t. All I could think about was the hunting Cloak People. Droves and droves of them. Coming.

And Gage? Thoughts of him didn’t make me feel much better. Whenever a random thought of him flashed through my brain, all I could remember was what he said to me today. It went through my mind over and over.
Don’t crowd me don’t crowd me don’t crowd me
.
It tightened the knots in my stomach.

I wished I was a little girl again. Wished I could cry to Beth and she would rock me in her arms, whisper reassuring words. When I was little, she used to do that and it would help. It was comforting. I needed comfort.

***

A whole week had gone by since the Pikes incident. The
don’t crowd me
, thing. In first period, I moved to the front of the class to get away from Gage.

But now I noticed him always talking with Heather Chapel. I didn’t even realize they knew each other. When I used to sit back there, Heather never said a word. But since I moved, she became Miss Chatter-mouth. She and Gage were suddenly best friends. Obviously our fight didn’t have him down. Obviously he wasn’t overcome with heartache and misery, not like me. He was busy making friends.

This morning, Gage caught me looking back at him. He gave me a surprised look, raising his eyebrows, like, “Are you still mad?”

I quickly turned my head back to the front of the class. Since the
don’t crowd me
thing Gage has called like a million times, trying to apologize, he writes me notes. It bugs me. I mean, if he feels this bad, why did he say it in the first place?
Don’t crowd me.

Why’d he say in front of the whole school? All my friends?

While I was sitting, being mad, staring straight ahead, Gage passed me a note. It came from Megan Walters, but it was Gage’s writing. I stared at it on my desk for a long time, not planning to read it, thinking about chucking it. But finally, I rolled my eyes and unfolded the note. “Meet me after class.”

Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen
. I crumbled up the note and put in my backpack.

When the bell rang, I practically ran to my locker. Gage came up behind, breathing down my neck. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Oh, I forgot,” I murmured distractedly as I rummaged through my shambles of books, looking for nothing.

He was silent for a moment, watching me. “Are you even looking for anything? Come on, Michaela just give me a second. Okay—I’m a jerk, but don’t I at least deserve a second?”

I shut my locker with a slam. “Look, could you just not crowd me?”

“Michaela.” He grabbed me, almost angry. “Man, just calm down. What do you want me to do? Just tell me and I’ll do it, okay?”

“You can’t
do
anything. You’ve said you’re sorry. I forgive you.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but when I call you won’t talk to me. And you’ve moved to the front of the class to get away from me—”

“I told you, I need glasses. I can’t see the board.”

He gave me a look of disgust. “Okay,” he said. “You’re not mad. So, you’ll come hear us, right—tonight.”

His band, his band. He kept telling me how I needed to hear his band, a certain song. Whatever. I was so not interested in his band anymore, or his songs. That was the old me, the pre-
don’t-crowd-me
me.

“We’re playing at Haley’s party.” His voice and eyes were challenging. “So, you’re going to come, right?”

“I can’t. I have to . . .” I was so flustered I couldn’t think of an excuse, the phrase “wash my hair” kept wanting to pop out of my mouth.

His eyes were fuming. “Okay, don’t come. Don’t talk to me. Do whatever you want.”

The bell rang, and with my stomach in a ball of knots, I watched him walk away.

Why couldn’t I just forgive him? Why couldn’t I do it? He called excessively, apologized profusely. What did he have to do?

I wish I knew because I’d have him do it in a heartbeat. We’d been friends forever. I missed the jerk. I wanted to forgive him and go back to the way things were. I wanted to stay up all night like we used to, playing pool in his basement and writing songs. I missed being able to call him when my car broke down, and having him come to me for advice about his latest Barbie doll. I missed him telling me I’m too good for Seth, that I should get over the loser.

Gage was everything to me, everything. I missed him so much, my heart ached. I cried practically every night. But what could I do? What could
he
do? Nothing. Nothing could make this better.

It was more than just the
don’t crowd me
thing. It was that it happened right after his kiss. It left me feeling vulnerable. Rejected. Hurt beyond repair. There was no way I could recover. No way our friendship could recover.

If only he hadn’t kissed me.

If only he hadn’t said
Don’t crowd me
.

If only. If only.

Grrrr!