Dust (10 page)

"Gag! No way." When I chuckled, she sighed. "Okay. It's my sister's birthday today."

Oh shit. No wonder she didn't want to be alone. I nodded slowly and wondered how best to address that. I was honestly a little surprised she'd told me what was eating at her, so I quickly decided not to push too far. When she was ready, she'd tell me her whole story. Until then, I'd take these little nuggets. "Bummer. Ready to start the movie again?"

By the expression on her face, it was easy to tell that her sudden laughter shocked the hell out of her.

"What?" I asked around a mouthful of pizza...just to help push the nonchalance I was going for. "We were just about to get to the good part."

"You're a mess." She shook her head but settled back beside me. When our arms touched, I didn't move away and neither did she.

By the time we’d finished our pizza and I'd had another beer, we were on the sixth suicide. The piece was both moving and visually stunning. The cameraman did a kick-ass job of shooting in low light. The grainy imagery added to the raw feel of the stories, giving them the added emotional impact to make them feel real. I was really enjoying it, but couldn't keep from stealing glances at Liv.

She looked miserable. She'd slouched and looked uncomfortable, sneering at the screen every now and then. When she sighed and leaned closer to me, I reached up and tugged her closer, easing her head down onto my shoulder.

"The faces you're making at the TV are distracting me." If she needed a reason to make this closeness okay, I was going to give her one.

She snorted, but otherwise didn't object and stayed where I'd put her. As I continued to watch the show, I played with her hair, gently rubbing her scalp here and there. I did it because I wanted to show her how easy it was to be near me and not think of me as an enemy.

I did it because I wanted to.

I didn't focus on touching her. I just did it almost without thought and definitely without effort. It was necessary to help her heal whatever demons she had, but it was as easy as breathing for me. Yeah, that still scared me. My feelings scared me. Hell, thinking about having feelings at all freaked me out, but she needed me. I could be close to her and help her come out of her shell. I just hoped she wouldn't free herself from what was binding her as if she were a firecracker exploding out of its casing, leaving nothing but dust in her wake. When I heard a soft noise beside me, distracting me from thoughts I knew better than to let run free, I looked down.

She'd fallen asleep.

It was the first time I'd ever seen her look peaceful.

I leaned over her to get the remote and turn the television down to keep it from waking her. Unable—and unwilling—to stop myself, I ran my hand through her hair with feather-light touches as I watched her breathe slowly, deeply.

"There's only one person," I started, barely whispering to her, "that has ever scared me like you do. I swore I'd never care about another person again after the person I feared most killed my mother. You scare me for very different reasons, but it's fucking terrifying all the same. Are you gonna hurt me one day, too?" I asked.

She snored softly at that point.

I wasn't sure if it was a yes or a no, but people always disappointed me. I'd be smart to not forget that.

Or to forget I couldn't let anything happen with Liv beyond what had happened so far. There could be no more to us than close friends. That's all she wanted.

That was all I'd wanted, too. If my heart demanded me to rethink my stance, I ignored it.

And as I fell asleep cuddled in her arms, I pretended everything was okay just the way it was.

A
gain with the parties
. I should've known it was going to be like this when I transferred. At my small, Arkansas college we had parties— We?
They
. They had parties. I didn't do them. Ever—but students here acted as if these occasions were part of the required curriculum. I mean I got that college life was a rite of passage, but I'd been dodging ritualistic bullshit since my sister died. Call it avoidance. Call it not giving a care. Either way, it was how I'd gotten through my adolescence and into my young adult years. But now there were two people bound and determined to see me turn into that metaphorical butterfly.

Frankly, I liked caterpillars. They kept their feet firmly planted on the ground.

In Arkansas, I didn't live on campus. I commuted. Now I had a roommate. Jewel was born as that butterfly. She was the epitome of a socialite, an actual socialite, and not some unemployed rich girl who partied non-stop. Though I was pretty sure Jewel met the financial requirements to be a member of that exclusive club—what with her endless supply of designer stuff and her dad being a former governor and all. But she also met the prerequisite of being social. She was definitely that. When she'd dragged me out to the bar a couple of weeks ago, she'd been eager...but since the big fraternity counsel party was tonight, she'd practically been salivating all day. Not going to the party was simply not an option to her, and by default...me.

And she wasn't the only one eager to get me out and about. Oh no. Killian wasn't taking no for answer either. He wasn't part of a fraternity but he had acquaintances. He'd told me this annual event was the only stereotypical college partying he did because he usually preferred to avoid scenarios where he could lose his temper and make an ass of himself. I'd yet to witness that, so I wasn't quite sure what it'd take for him to lash out. However, this was his last year in school, and he'd batted his eyelashes just to make me laugh and go all soft on him when he'd said he couldn't miss it. Yes, I could find the balls to turn down Jewel, but Kill was another story. He'd guilted me into going, but he didn't have to try too hard. Things with him were...unusual. I wasn't sure how to define them to myself, so I didn't even try. All I knew was that I liked spending time with him, and he seemed to like spending time with me.

That, and I liked him. God, I did. More than I should. And it felt different than what I was witnessing with couples around me. Not that I thought of us as a couple. I didn't. No way would I do that because that'd require me to define things, and that just wasn't happening. But still, watching other people was all I had to go on for comparison. Those people seemed so superficial. Of course, I didn't know this for a fact. That would require me to talk to them—big fat no. The alternative was to talk to my mom, but that thought seemed crazier than approaching and interrogating strangers. If I told her I liked a guy, she'd probably start planning my wedding. Oh, God, just the thought of that made me want to throw up just a little. I could talk to Jewel, but it was easier if I kept my undefined feelings to myself. Why? Because I knew Jewel could see right through me.

Plus I didn't want to know what she thought about Killian and me. At first, she'd warned me not to get my hopes up with him because she knew from experience how he operated. Then she'd done a complete turnaround that night at the bar. I wondered if she really saw something going on with Killian, or if she just wanted me to start living my life and experience
anything
it had to offer, even if it was heartache.

Not that she was a mean person. She wasn't. Jewel was definitely growing on me as the days went by. She was someone I felt I could trust, but I wasn't sure of her motivation behind her opinion change on the matter of Killian's feelings. I wasn't going to touch on that with her, though. We'd found common ground on the subject of men and that was without breaking out a rulebook to define boundaries—I wouldn't bring up that I thought it was a bad idea for her to see Gabe, and she wouldn't harp on my relationship with Killan, which included making kissing noises whenever my phone would go off when I got a text from him. This silent understanding happened after she'd come home from her date the night Kill and I had fallen asleep together in my bed. When we woken up the next morning, he rubbed my back and talked about his classes that day. I'd mentioned almost being done with my latest essay. He was almost finished with the research paper I was helping him with. He'd talked about an upcoming art show he had to do for graduation. It had been comfortable with a side of morning breath. When he left, he kissed my forehead, and I turned around to see Jewel watching with a single raised eyebrow. No words, just silence. Since then, she still found reasons to talk about guys, but we left any specific names out of our conversations.

"Hey, can you reach my glitter heels?" Jewel asked as she turned to face me. She held a styling iron with some of her hair wrapped around it. "They're too far back for me to get."

I eyeballed her. "Are they for you or for me?"

She unwound her hair from the steaming contraption. "I learned my lesson after the last time. You can dress yourself tonight, but I'll be available to answer any questions if you get stuck with color combinations or need step-by-step instructions on any of the electrical tools. Oh, and I want veto power over anything particularly icky."

"You're a mess. You're lucky I'm even going to this thing."

She smirked. "Whatever. I know Kill asked you to go, too. Don't act like you're doing me any favors."

She was baiting me, but I wasn't going to rise to the challenge. Much. "Sweet. Where's my hair scrunch?" I turned to grab it.

"Oh no you don't. I'll let you dress yourself in something that feels like you, but I'm drawing the line at you going as a complete slouch."

I chuckled. "There's the Jewel I know."

"In the flesh." She winked and turned to face the mirror as she lifted another section of her hair. "You'll thank me later."

I wasn't so sure about that, so I didn't say anything. I walked over to her closest and had to get up on my tiptoes to reach the shoebox, but I managed. "Here," I said, setting them down beside her.

She looked at them and then glanced at me. "Thanks. So what are you wearing?"

"This." I waved my hand in front of the clothes I had on.

She groaned. "When I said I'd let you dress yourself, I assumed you hadn't gotten ready yet. You wore those clothes to class." Her expression was a mixture of confusion and horror.

I tried not to laugh.

"I'm joking. I wouldn't shame you like that." It hadn't gone unnoticed to me that I cared what she thought. Or that
I
cared what I wore tonight. That didn't mean I'd analyze it though. Over the last few weeks, I'd slowly developed an attitude of just going with it—
it
being any new experience I wanted to explore that I'd done my best to avoid in the past. "I was thinking of playing up my goth look."

She smiled, her lips lifting slowly. "As in?"

One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Black clothes. Smoky eyes."

Her expression was glowing now. "What top are you wearing?"

I chewed my lip. "Not sure. I have a black tank top I was thinking of pairing with an open shirt."

She put down her hair tool and walked to her closet. "I have the perfect top. If you don't want to wear it, that's cool, but I think you'll like it."

What she pulled out look like a ball of twine. "What's that?"

She shook it out. It looked as if it were knitted by grannies gone wild. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a cropped top. Goes on over your tank. Just try it on before you decide not to wear it."

I frowned at her. I wasn't sure what purpose that top served, but trying it on wouldn't hurt anything. I took it from her, and she went back to her hair. After grabbing my jeans, riding boots, and tank top, I changed quickly. I put on several chain belts and then picked up the shirt thingy she handed me. After spending a few seconds figuring out the correct way to put it on, I slipped it over my head and pushed my arms through. When I turned toward Jewel she'd finished with her hair and was watching me, hands on her hips, smile on her face.

"Well?" I asked walking up to the mirror.
Holy shit.
It looked awesome!

"You look hot!"

I fought my smile and failed. "You were right, it does look good with this."

"Would I ever steer you wrong?" she asked, hugging me from the side as we both looked in the mirror.

But I wasn't looking at me anymore. I was looking at her. She was my first real friend, and the weight of that knowledge really hit me then. "No. No, you wouldn't," I murmured.

She smiled, seeming to catch the meaning. Then she turned me to face her. "Now that you're dressed, let's get your hair and makeup done. I want you looking fabulous."

I wasn't fabulous, nor did I think I ever would be, but forming this friendship with Jewel was one more step to being normal.

And normal was so much better than fabulous.

* * *

"
C
an
you believe how many people are here?" Jewel asked as we waded through the throng of people in the streets. It felt as if the entire student body was standing around outside. "It's like a mosh pit without the moshing or live music."

Her analogy wasn't that far off. Not that I'd ever experienced a concert like that before, but I'd seen YouTube videos that made my stomach drop at the thought of being close to that many people.

My stomach was currently being dragged along the ground as I walked. I hated being around so many people. It made me feel claustrophobic. It was an irrational fear. Honestly, I had no reason to fear crowds. Small spaces? Yes. Crowded spaces? No. But anything that made me feel closed in triggered that feeling of being locked in, as if I were back in that basement all those years ago. That feeling of helplessness.

"Where do we even start?" There was just so much going on.

Jewel stopped and grabbed my arm. "Just breathe. You're young. You're hot. You're here to have fun. Don't worry about what everybody else is doing. Just worry about Liv, okay?"

I nodded as I took in a deep breath.

"First, we get a drink. Then we mingle."

"Mink. Dingle. Got it."

She chuckled. "C'mon."

I followed her into the closest fraternity house while I sent Kill a text letting him know where we were headed. Within minutes, I had a drink in my hand as I stood numbly, watching Jewel dance beside me.

"Meric is staring at you," she said as she bounced to the music.

"Who's Meric?" I asked as I turned around to see.

When I turned, the air locked in my lungs. Only it wasn't because of some random hot guy who thought I was cute.
Killian
. He ate up even my peripheral to the point that I didn't see anybody other than him. He'd just stepped in the doorway, and as if we were in tune somehow, our eyes instantly met.

His got really wide.

God, he was hot.
Take it down a notch! You know he's always gorgeous
. It really was no wonder why girls flocked to him. Even though that thought soured me a little, I smiled at him.

His mouth moved, but it was more of a jaw-drop gesture. I had to admit I liked that reaction from him.

We stared for a few seconds, and he seemed frozen, entranced...by me. Now, that made me feel pretty damn good. I might not have been a social butterfly, but I welcomed the butterflies fluttering in my stomach now. I lifted my hand and wiggled my fingers in a wave.

He blinked and then moved. I watched him walk toward me, not taking his eyes off mine. When he stood beside me, he finally smiled. "You look gorgeous, firecracker." When his lips met my forehead, I bit my lip to keep from grinning like a moron. He'd done that a lot, and I liked it. It made me want to feel his lips in other places. I still felt guilty about that. I probably always would where my sister was concerned, but my relationship with Killian was part of the things I was just allowing myself to experience and not analyze. Besides, he'd said there wasn't anything wrong with innocent flirting.

"You look great, too. You'll have to beat the ladies off you tonight." The thought of that burned a little, but I didn't dwell on it.

"I think I just might get in trouble, kicking some guys ass who stares at yours too long tonight." He winked, showing he was being playful, and I snickered.

"If you two are going to eye-fuck each other all night, I think I'm going to go find Gabe. He should be next door."

I almost snorted my drink, and Killian's head fell back on a laugh, obviously not caring about her mention of his ex-best-friend.

"Let me know if you leave the party," I said once I stopped choking on my cocktail.

"Yes, mother." She leaned over and hugged me. My arms came around her naturally. It was getting easier to interact with her, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed having this with another female until I'd finally accepted this friendship. Jewel looked at Killian. "Make sure she gets home safely." She pulled away from me. "Just in case I'm too busy later." She wagged her eyebrows and turned to leave. She looked over her shoulder at us. "You two kids have fun."