Beautiful Beast (Enchanted Fairytales) (11 page)

* * * * *

Alex paced in the rose garden.
The roses were all dead, just thorny sticks jutting out ready to capture any material that came too close. The beast had been silent since Calli had first come. He hadn’t realized it until tonight, when her words brought the beast out again.

Even her trying to talk him into coming to the Christmas party hadn’t roused the beast. Maybe because there was no threat in it. He hadn’t felt pressured in the least to expose himself that night. Not by his father, not by Calli’s dad, not by Calli herself. It was almost as if they’d all expected him to refuse and so hadn’t pushed it.

But now this.

This.

Calli asking him to come to her New Year’s Eve party. No, that wasn’t right. Not asking. Telling him she was having it for him, so he could meet her friends.

The same ones who had come to laugh at him before.

The beast had raged, and he’d scared her. Enough to send her running off in tears.

He tore one of the thorny branches from its bush and hurled it with a roar. It landed with an unsatisfyingly soft tick against the stone wall. He dropped to a squat, burying his face in his hands, clasping his hair tightly in his fists. It was too much to ask. She should
know
that. He’d thought, after all this time, that she understood.

He’d thought she was his friend.

How could she ask—

He abruptly stood. As if someone had dropped clarity over him like a cloak, he knew. She’d asked because she
was
his friend. She’d spent the last four months holed up with him, spending all her time with him, showing him that to her he was the same as anyone else. And then, when she’d offered him something that she thought was good, a gesture of kindness in her eyes, he’d erupted. She was his friend. But he . . . he wasn’t hers.

He stepped out of the cove and glanced upward to where he knew her room was. Light shone from her window. He moved further back, and saw her. She sat on her window seat, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly about them. Her head was lowered against her knees, and her body shook.

Alex’s heart cracked, and the beast crawled into the hole, disappearing. With a determined stride, he went to her.

* * * * *

Calli felt horrible.
She’d honestly thought Alex would welcome the chance to have some friends besides her. She’d thought that maybe, after the time they’d spent together, he would understand that if he just let others in, let them know him as she did, that they would see him as she did.

Alex reacted violently to her request. She’d known she’d probably have to do a lot of talking to convince him, but she thought maybe she could tease him into it. That she could give all of her pre-planned, convincing arguments.

Instead, he’d . . . well,
roared
was the best way she could put it. He’d thrown his weights across the room, sending them crashing into the wall. He toppled the whole weight bench and the treadmill as well. She admitted it; she’d been frightened by his rage. So she ran.

And now she sat in her room, horrified by both herself and Alex. She should have eased him into the discussion, rather than telling him straight out. But he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. She knew that. And yet, some small part of her also understood why he did.

A knock on her door startled her. Expecting Meredith or Winston, she called out, “Come in.” She didn’t even bother to wipe her tears, knowing Meredith had overheard the whole thing, and that Winston had likely been informed by now. She turned her face to the window as the door opened.

“Hey.”

She startled at the voice, panic clenching her middle. Her eyes moved to his reflection in the window. Alex. She wondered if he were here to rage at her some more.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms tucked behind his back. Calli tried to furtively wipe her tears away.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice strangled with emotion.

She turned to him at his words. “I know that,” she said, and realized that she really
did
know it.

Anguish lined his face, and when he caught sight of her tear stained face he dropped his eyes in shame. Calli couldn’t stand it, this tension between them, both of them suffering. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his middle, laying her cheek against his chest, hoping his temper was calmed.

“Calli, I—” His words tangled in his throat and she shook her head.

“Just hold me, Alex. Please.”

His arms came around her, bands of steel that comforted. He dropped his head to rest his chin against the top of her head. As he held her, her grief filled shudders slowly subsided, and a warmth took up residence in her chest, blooming until it encompassed her in its comforting glow. Alex’s trembling arms eventually stilled.

“For trying to push something on you that you’re not ready for. For hurting you. Alex, I hope you know that I would
never
do anything to hurt you. At least, not purposely.”

Alex’s face reflected even more agony than it had. He leaned his head back and banged it against the door, once, lightly. “You have nothing to apologize for, Calli.”

He released her, taking her hand and leading her back over to the window seat. He sat, and Calli settled next to him, tucking her arm through his.

“Before, when I . . . when I got so angry. Calli, I—”

“It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not. Ever since . . .” Seemingly unable to find the words to describe it, he waved one hand toward his face and down the right side of his body. “I feel like I have this thing, this beast, raging inside me. When I stand outside at sunset, and yell like I do, it’s my way of setting him free. I’m giving him the chance to rage so that I can control him the rest of the time.”

Calli scrunched her brows at him. It was strange, him talking about “the beast” as if it were a living thing.

“And usually I can. In fact, since you’ve come, I haven’t had to try to control the beast at all.” He shrugged. “I can’t remember the last time I stood outside and let him free. I didn’t realize it until tonight when he came back so violently. I scared you, I know that, and I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Alex,” Calli said, wanting to take this away from him. Alex definitely didn’t need yet another thing to feel misguided guilt about. Wanting to make sure he understood, she took his arm and wrapped it around her, snuggling up to his side. “I wasn’t afraid for me—well, a little maybe. Mostly I was afraid for
you
.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous.

“You pretend that you aren’t ever in pain, but I can see when you are. I can see how hard you try to hide it, but I know that after you work out, you have pain. And since you’d already worked out, it can’t have been painless to throw the things you did. I worried you’d injured yourself. I worried that you would retreat into your shell of anger that you had when I first came. I worried that you’d send me away. But I never worried you would
hurt
me—physically anyway.”

Alex stared at her as if trying to read the truthfulness of her words. His face reflected his uncertainty. “But you ran away, crying.”

“I shouldn’t have run. I should have stayed. The crying would have come either way,” she said with a smile. “I don’t want you to hate me, Alex. And that’s what I was most afraid of.”

He grimaced. “I think I’m saying go ahead and have your party. And I’ll be there, even if it means I’m the main attraction.” She shook her head, opening her mouth to protest. He put a finger on her lips to stop her. “I insist. Please, Calli. Do it for me.”

She grinned at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

She kissed him on the lips, a quick kiss, a kiss of gratitude, before burying herself against him again. “Thank you, Alex. You won’t regret this. I promise.”

* * * * *

Alex straightened his collar for the tenth time.
He buttoned his shirt to the top, then unbuttoned the top two buttons. Then buttoned them again. For the first time, he wished for a mirror. They hadn’t had mirrors in the house since he smashed them about a year after they’d moved in. Some kids had come from town to stare at him from outside their yard, to laugh at him and hurl insults. He’d let the beast have his way and together they’d smashed many of the mirrors.

His father had moved them all. He thought they were where Alex couldn’t find them. He didn’t know that Alex knew exactly where they were, and in fact he used the room of mirrors, as he referred to it, when he felt especially self-tortuous. In the room, with mirrors leaned against every wall, he couldn’t escape his image.

Now, he had no way to see how he looked. Was it better buttoned up, or slightly unbuttoned. Should he roll his sleeves up a little, or keep them firmly around his wrists? He wondered how his hair looked. He’d combed it, knew it was curly, but had no idea if he had any pieces sticking up, or if he looked like a dork.

He definitely regretted telling Calli he would do this. He wouldn’t back out, no matter how desperately he wanted to. He’d given her his word, and he would keep it. He just wished he had a mirror.

A knock sounded on his door. His father opened it and stuck his head in. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure.” Alex stopped fidgeting and turned to face his father. They were working on their relationship, trying to get past all the years of silence and erected walls, but it was going to take time.

“You look great,” his father said, and Alex began fidgeting again, buttoning and unbuttoning his shirt.

“Do I?” he asked unsurely. “Is my hair okay?”

His dad stepped forward and placed his hands over Alex’s. “Your hair looks great. Keep the buttons undone.” He paused, and then said, “They’re going to stare at first, Alex.”

Alex’s hands dropped to his sides and his shoulders slumped. “I know.”

“But if you’re open with them, as you are with Calli, they’re going to see what a great kid you are. Then they aren’t going to stare anymore.”

Winston smiled at him and left the room. Alex heard him exchange greetings with Calli in the hall and felt a tightening of excitement at the sound of her voice. He knew her kiss that night meant nothing to her, that for her it was nothing more than a friend kissing a friend. But to Alex, it had sent him reeling. No one had kissed him since he was a little boy. And then it was only his mom. Calli’s brief kiss had sent feelings shooting through him he’d never experienced before.

“Well, look who’s a hottie,” she said from his doorway. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in her flowered skirt that stopped just above her knees, and her plain white t-shirt that looked anything but plain on her.

She walked over to him. “Seriously, Alex, you look great. I haven’t ever seen you in anything except sweatshirts or t-shirts.” She ran her hands down his arms, smoothing his sleeves. “I like this.”

She bumped him with her shoulder, realizing that he was the only person she did that to. It had begun as a safe way to touch him, and now it was . . . her and Alex’s thing, she supposed. “I’m not being nice. I’m being honest.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, you look amazing. But then, you always do.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, Alex. I told you I’d come.”

He narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm. “Since we’re now passing out cheesy lines, I may as well say that as long as you’re next to me, no one will even notice me. They’ll all be looking at you.”

Worry clouded her expression. “Alex, if you’re uncomfortable—”

“Of course I’m uncomfortable,” he told her honestly. “But that isn’t ever going to change unless I do something about it, right?”

She still looked unsure, so he gave her the most confident smile he could muster. He stepped forward and held a hand out to her. “Shall we?”