Bitter Angel (3 page)

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Authors: Megan Hand

BOOK: Bitter Angel
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I leaned forward from the back, an elbow on each of their seats. “Where is this place again?”

“We went there once,” Nilah reminded me. “It’s near that Fourth Street Park place we went to last time, but we’re going to dinner as soon as we get into town. I made reservations at the most expensive seafood place I could find.”

Grimacing, I sank back into the plush, heated leather. I’d never been a very big seafood fan, but it was Nilah’s birthday. Her day, her rules. We’d always had that tradition for our birthdays—we got to pick where we ate, what we did, and go wherever we wanted on our special day.

I sighed, already missing Jay. At that moment, I began to daydream that I was clawing my way out of the car, curling into a ball, and rolling to a stop on the concrete. Then, magically uninjured of course, I’d race back to him.

When I came to my senses, however, I was overcome with a very strange sensation. Like I didn’t have to imagine it.

Because I was still with him.

Friday, 8:37 p.m.

I knew exactly what time it was because I was peeking at the clock from my slit eyes as Jay and I made out on my bed. We’d already made love twice since Nilah and Heather had left. Still naked and wrapped together, we laid back against my piled pillows and stared at each other. Now that all the built-up sexual tension had its turn, we could chill and enjoy each other’s company.

I made the right decision by staying behind.

“How did your test go?” he asked softly in the darkness. I’d told him on the phone yesterday morning about my Bio exam.

“It went,” I replied sarcastically as my fingers lightly caressed the scar just below his left shoulder. The disfigured and discolored skin was nearly the size of my palm. His dad had put it there one night when he’d decided Jay’s eleven-year-old goofing off had pissed him off, so he’d tossed a scalding pan of hot water at him. (Jay’s dad was another story for another day.) I loved that he didn’t shy away from me touching it like he used to.

“To the incinerator or to the moon?” He laughed boyishly as he shot his hand in the air.

I just shook my head and smiled.
Jay and his silly little sayings,
I thought, spreading my fingers across the scar. When I put my hand to it, the damaged skin disappeared, and it always made me feel like I was in his life for a reason. I was meant to make his scars go away. In the same way, his softness wrapped around my hard edges, reminding me that fighting wasn’t the only way to solve an argument.

“To the moon, I hope,” I finally said. I’m thinking it sucked ass because I was so distracted daydreaming about his visit, but I was praying I was over exaggerating my failure.

“When will you know?”

“Monday, probably.” I leaned forward and kissed the scar.

He put his hand to my cheek. “I’m sure you did great.”

I smiled and he leaned in to kiss me again.

We both had family demons that lurked in our shadows, but I’d always felt that together we could block out those demons. Maybe we couldn’t drown out those voices on our own, but with his hands on my ears, mine on his, and our eyes locked together, we could be our own people and live our own lives. Be our own family, our own way.
Someday. Maybe.

Breaking for air, I sighed, a luxurious frivolous sound. “God, I missed you.”

He propped his head in his hand. There was a smile in his eyes while his finger twirled a lock of my hair. “Have you rethought leaving this dusty place behind and joining me in the evil city?”

I laughed. He knew me so well. “Of course,” I replied. “Being with you— awesome. But you know that by the one-hundredth taxi honk, I’d probably pull out my semiautomatic rifle that I’d somehow managed to stash in my purse and shoot whoever that bastard was. Then they’d haul my ass off to jail.” I gazed at him affectionately. “We don’t want me spending my life in jail, do we?”

I could tell his silence was an inner eye roll…and some hidden sadness. He’d been trying to talk me into leaving this school for a while.

I propped my head on my hand and sighed again. This time it was an apology. “You know I love you.”

His eyebrows creased ever so slightly. “I know.”

He did, but there was a note of something that told me he wasn’t all that sure—or maybe it was the fear of our uncertain future. This insecurity about our future had popped up once or twice before. We were way past the long-distance thing taking its toll. But what other choice did we have? He hated this small town, and I hated the city. He had offered to transfer here once or twice, but no way was I letting him leave his art school.

Someday, when I was a doctor and he was a teacher or something (his major was still in the undecided phase), we’d probably settle somewhere in between. Who knows?

I hated this talk.

I tipped his chin toward me, forcing his eyes on mine. “Can’t we just enjoy tonight? I stayed behind for you. Don’t get all introspective on me now, please?”

He smiled, but I recognized the struggle still in the lines of his face. Rolling me onto my back, he rubbed his nose against mine, nipping it playfully. “No one but me?”

My hands flanked his face. “Never.”

He kissed me, soft and sweet, then hard and raw, pushing me dangerously close to attacking him again. I moaned and he growled in the back of his throat. I was suddenly reminded that we were still very naked in my bed, but before things could take a turn for the steamy, he stood up, grabbed my hand, and hauled me up.

He started rummaging the floor for his clothes.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s nice out.” He grinned, pulling on his black boxer briefs. “I wanna go for a walk.”

“Okay,” I said excitedly. I loved walks. He knew I loved walks. I found my underwear on the floor at the foot of the bed, followed by the rest of my clothes, and threw them on as fast as I could. I slipped my feet into a pair of flip flops—it was barely still warm enough—then I hopped around while I waited for Jay to finish dressing.

He chuckled at my eagerness. “Hold your sexy horses. Just a second.” He stuffed his arms and head through an OSU scarlet and gray sweatshirt.

I locked the door behind us. “Race you to the bottom,” I called as I dashed down the hall to the stairwell.

He chased after me, catching my t-shirt and yanking me back so he could gain the lead.

“Hey,” I whined and giggled at the same time. “No fair. That’s cheating.”

He didn’t care. “Last one to the bottom gets to drive tomorrow.”

We landed breathily at the bottom of the stairs, Jay beating me only because he cheated. He was only a couple inches taller than me, and I was a track star in high school…Okay, I was on the team…Okay, so I quit after a term. Still. I could be fast when I wanted to be. And now my loss meant I would be driving us back to Cinci tomorrow.
Fan-freaking-tastic.

Catching our breaths outside, we walked hand in hand, fingers laced. I took a noisy inhale of the fresh evening air. This place may be small and boring, but the purity of nature was divine, one of the things that kept me here. The idea of a smog-filled city had me wrinkling my nose.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jay said quietly. We passed the tree we’d sat beneath earlier, and he plucked an orange leaf from an overhanging branch.

I looked away from him and out at all the beautiful old buildings. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sensed his eyes narrowing. “You’re thinking about leaving and coming out to be with me. You’re thinking that despite the beauty and awesomeness, you’d sacrifice it to wake up next to me every morning.”

I cringed from the hope in his voice. It wasn’t exactly what I was thinking, but pretty damn close. I tipped my head to the side and pursed my lips as I gazed at him.

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Lil, you’re forgetting I’ve been able to read your mind since seventh grade. Remember?” He was talking about our stupid seventh grade dance.

I had gone with David Cooper, a point guard on the basketball team. He was popular, nice, but I didn’t want to be there with him. I had known Jay since sixth grade, but we didn’t
know
each other. My girls had been out on the dance floor with their dates, and David kept trying to coax me to dance with him. That was when Jay rescued me.

He approached, all lanky and a little awkward, but still so cute with his curly hair. He was in a striking black suit and blue tie that matched his eyes. He told David his buddies were outside looking for him. David ran off like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Apparently, I wasn’t fulfilling his entertainment quota for the evening.

Jay leaned against the wall with me, quiet for a long minute until I finally asked him why he was just standing there. He told me, “I could tell you didn’t want to be with that jerk, so I rescued you.”

“You could tell?” I asked with all the snooty attitude of a know-it-all seventh grader. Who did this kid think he was? He didn’t know me.

“I could tell,” he said, not reacting to my attitude at all, and shutting down further comments from me. He stayed until the song was over, then he smiled and walked away.

We became ‘sort of’ friends after that, the kind that purposely bumped shoulders in the halls, or stared at each other a little longer than normal in class. Then in high school, we became the ‘hang out’ friends that went to the local pizza shop together with a large group of kids after school. We always tried to sit next to each other. With Heather and Nilah at my other side, of course. Even then, there was a spark of something yet to come. But insignificant dates and relationships kept us in the friend zone for three more years. After we got together, Jay used the excuse that it wasn’t the right time before, but the truth was he’d never asked me. And I wanted to be asked. I was an old-fashioned girl.

When we’d been dating for a while, he finally admitted he’d been too chicken shit to ask me. I agreed on that point, but I never doubted how good he’d always been at reading me.

I gulped. “Yes. I remember, but…I can’t do it, babe.”

He dropped the leaf he’d been fiddling with and crushed it beneath his shoe. Spotting a bench near us, he dragged me over and pulled me down next to him. “What’s stopping you? You won’t let me come here. This is getting old, Lil. I know you hate the city, but you could get used to it.” He ran a hand through his hair. His knees bounced restlessly. “I told you I found a couple of schools that will take you mid-semester, and they both have awesome pre-med programs. They’re outside the city, so you’d have to take a train—”

“Stop,” I whispered. I put a hand on his knee, forcing him to still. “Jay, why now?”

He pulled away and furrowed his eyebrows at me. I hated the hurt look in his eyes. “What do you mean, why now? We’ve been talking about this since summer. Last year was awful enough. You really want to do this another three years?”

“We discussed this already.”

He shook his head hard. “No, you discussed. You didn’t listen.”

I blinked. Ever-understanding Jay was glitching. This was unusual. He threaded his fingers into my hair at the base of my neck, cupping my head in his hands. I loved when he did this. It made me feel small and cherished.

“I love you so much,” he breathed. I could feel the intensity of his emotions, see it in the moon reflecting off of his eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t go another minute without you. How the hell are we going to last another three years?”

I rested my fingers on his wrists, something I also liked to do when he held my head like this. “Why are you so impatient all of a sudden? You were about to let me walk away just a few hours ago.” I hated that it pissed me off that he hadn’t told me no outright.

He could tell it pissed me off. “You know why I did that.”

“Why?” There was a challenge to my tone.

“Because I’m not that guy.”

“What guy?”

Everything about him softened as he swept his thumbs across my cheekbones. “The guy that tells his girlfriend what to do.”

I closed my eyes for a few seconds. He was right. This was Jay and I loved him for it. As much as I craved for him to be more assertive or demanding, this was who he was. His father had snuffed out any desire for him to be an alpha male. And there weren’t words for how proud I was of him. Not only for rising above his circumstances, but for being the father figure his brother needed, the caretaker his mother depended on, though I’d never understand why she stayed with Jay’s father. After watching my parents tear each other to pieces on an almost daily basis, Battered Woman Syndrome was not something I understood. If the relationship sucked, get the hell out.

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