MIDNIGHT DIVINE (The Helio Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

“Me too.” Alice stands and
turns to Eric, “I’ll see you later, babe. I’ve got to head over to the library.
Will I see you tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you
later.” Eric stands up to kiss Alice goodbye. The legs of his chair grate
against the dry red dirt of the open patio. “Love you, babe,” he voices before
kissing her
hastily
on the lips. They're never
the type of couple that grossly displays their affection for the public. Behind
closed doors is another story. Headphones come in handy during those times.

“Love you too,”
she says.

I rise from my seat to
leave and grab my phone and wallet off the table. “See ya’, Jack.”

Jack smiles up at me, and
the Sunlight catches his irises
. They
sparkle a
beautiful intense green which causes my stomach flutter again. “Bye, Sunshine.”
I roll my eyes at his endearment.

Alice and I leave the
coffee shop to stroll back home. We cross the street, and Alice starts in on
me, “See, Jack’s not so bad.”

“I don’t know.”
He’s
trouble. I don’t need distractions
.

“I think he likes you,” she
states, smiling at me from ear to ear.

“Maybe, but I don’t want
any distractions. I just want to focus on my music and graduating. I’m sure it
wouldn’t be hard for him to find another conquest.” As much as I'm attracted to
Jack, I can’t afford to fall off track to the new life I'm trying to
accomplish. College is my time to figure out who I am and what I want to do
with my music. For so long, I thought I knew who I was, only to find out I was
adopted. And I’m certain that the single friend I ever had before now was
somehow responsible for almost killing me. Now's the time to change my life and
mold myself into someone I recognize.

We stop at another
crosswalk and wait for a
n open,
yellow Jeep to pass.
Alice continues, “Well, he’s sort of coming over tonight with Eric. I hope you
don’t mind.”

“It’s fine.”
I’ll just
lock myself in my room.

I unlock the door to our
house and trail to the kitchen for a bottle of water while Alice grabs her
backpack and keys from her room down the hall from mine. “Alright. I’ll be
back,” she calls from the foyer. I can see the concentration in her face as she
closes the front door behind her. She's already thinking about the research
paper she has to write for her Psychology class. When Alice has anything to do
for her classes, she takes it serious with a higher degree than most. Her
motto—there's a time and a place for everything.

Alice would be gone for a
few hours, so I blare some death metal on my iPod and use the opportunity to do
some laundry and clean up around the house. When I'm finished, I smoke another
bowl and attempt to write some music. I started smoking pot and drinking after
my wreck at the beginning of my junior year. It isn’t an activity I
participated in heavily at first, but the freedom of college led to more and
more. Being high lets me see things from outside of myself. My reality becomes
a fiction
movie
I can take apart and decipher. It helps me see
things from a different perspective so I can change what I want, even if it's
fleeting. Not to mention, it keeps me from the paranoia of 'the darkness'
becoming a reality around every corner.

After a few hours, my
efforts are deemed unproductive in writing a new ballad. I can’t stop thinking
about Jack. His smile. His piercing green eyes.
Stop it, Ivy! No, no, no,
no,
I coach myself, but it doesn’t work. I have an epiphany, pick up my
guitar, and start strumming an upbeat, punk rock rhythm. I have to get the song
off my chest so it'll cease its repetition in my head, and I lose myself as I
belt out the lyrics of
“
Hit the Road, Jack
”
.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

Startled mid-chorus, I
jump. “Yeah?” I yell through the door, embarrassed at my tirade.

A deep voice answers on the
other side, “Hey, Sunshine. Alice wants to know if you’re hungry. We’re going
out for pizza.”

Oh, crap! Did he hear me? I
didn’t hear anyone pull up or come in!
I answer the door after hiding my bong. “Hey,” I huff as my heart
pounds. In passing, I consider if he can hear it.

Jack’s body fills my
doorframe, forming a blockade. His hands rest on either side of the frame as a
self-satisfied grin graces his perfect, chiseled face. It's beautiful and
irritating. “Thinking about me, Sunshine?”

I can’t seem to stop!
“It’s a cover song,” I roll my eyes. “And, yeah, I
could eat,” I shrug my shoulders, avoiding his interrogation. He takes a step
back, his amusement apparent. I lead us to the living
room where Alice has her purse over her shoulder and
an arm hooked through Eric’s. “Where are we going?” I prompt as I grabbed my
keys.

“Just the pizza place off
Normal Park,” she replies.

“I’m taking my car. Do you
want to ride with me?” Jack sounds hopeful with his question, and Eric looks at
me with expectation. I know that look. He’s telling me he wants to be alone
with Alice, so I resign, “Sure.” I hide my apprehension about riding with Jack
and follow Alice through the door.

Eric steers Alice to his
car while Jack waits for me on the porch to lock the door. Approaching his
Skyline, I'm eager to hear the purr of its engine again. Before I reached the
passenger door, Jack reaches around me to open it, “Here. Allow me.” His breath
caresses my neck, sending chills up my spine and causing my skin to tingle with
excitement.

I don’t know how to feel
about his chivalry toward me.
No doubt part of his playbook. I don’t
remember the last time a guy opened a door for me.
It's unexpected and kind
of sweet. I stammer, “Th-thanks.”

The leather interior of his
car is black with admiral blue accents matching the body, and the new car scent
versus the stench of a trashed bachelor pad is
no
t what I
expected.
Maybe
he just had it detailed,
I assume. As he starts the car, butterflies swarm
my stomach. He looks over his shoulder to back out. His baseball cap creates
shadows across his face, making him even more dark and mysterious. I sense
myself being drawn to him and eager to see his green eyes again. Riding a few
minutes in uncomfortable silence, I play with my cellphone to appear distracted
as I enjoy the way he handles his ca
r
. Fast
. Smooth. Aggressive
.

Jack brakes the silence,
“So, I’m guessing that Evo is yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Sick,” he responds.

“And is this car yours?”
I'm curious how he paid for it.

He chuckles. “Yeah. It gets
me around.”

“Let me guess. Your parents
bought it for you?” I'm irritated he pretends it
’
s just another
ordinary car and not the speed monster it deserves to be recognized as.

“Hell, no!” he bellows,
peering at me with petulance.
I think I offended him….Good.
“I work my
ass off for what I have.”

“Oh.” I'm surprised because
he comes off as just another trust fund kid, the type that doesn’t appreciate
the things they have and throw money away
at the same rate they
flush toilet paper.

“What about you? Did daddy
buy your car
for you
?” he counters.

“No.” I try to keep my
answers short. His mention of my ‘daddy’ brings up corrupted memories of my
adoptive father. His drunken bouts of anger and physical violence flash in my
mind.

Jack seems to notice my
uneasiness and attempts to apologize without verbalizing it, “Well, it’s pretty
sweet. Do you know much about cars?”

I feign ignorance, “Not
much.” Deciding not to come off as a complete ditz who can’t take care of her
own car and needs a man to do it for her, I add, “I mean, I know the basics. I
can change my oil and a flat.” Jack smiles. It's truly charming.

We arrive at the pizza
joint, choosing a booth in the corner of the restaurant, and Alice and Eric
come through the doors soon after. I don’t want to sit in uncomfortable silence
after we order, so I excuse myself to go smoke a cigarette outside. The evening
is forming into a double date, and I'm uneasy about sitting in such
close
proximity to Jack. He's effecting me on an anatomical
level. My body tingles when he's inches from me, my stomach does flip flops,
yet I'm at ease. It's confusing.

“Mind if I join you?” Jack
requests, stepping into the humid night air with me.

“Sure.”
I didn’t know he
smoked.

Jack lights up a cigarette
and leans against the building next to me. “So tell me, Sunshine, why do I get
the feeling you’re uncomfortable around me?” he muses without pretense.

Whoa. I didn’t see that
coming. Guess I’ll have to pull out my inner bitch after all.
“For one, my name's Ivy. And it’s not that I’m
uncomfortable, but I constantly feel like you're hitting on me.”

He blows out a puff of
smoke and smirks. “That’s because I am.” He waits for my reaction to his
forwardness.

Fuck.
“Look,” I throw down my cigarette and crush it with
the toe of my shoe. “I don’t play games. So, I’m going to give it to you
straight.” I hesitate to look up at his shadowed face and try to force the
butterflies in my stomach to still. “I’m not interested. I came here to focus
on my music and graduate. I have no interest in dating. And by the looks of it,
you don’t date. Either way, I’m not interested in a hook-up either.” I shoulder
past him to go back inside.
This is going
to be an unpleasant evening if I don't walk away from
the
situation.

“Ivy,” he calls out, and I
whip around to face him. His baseball cap covers his face as he looks down at
his feet. Then, he looks up at me and continues, “If you’re not interested in
me… that way… I’ll back off. But, I still want to get to know you. Can we start
over?”

Throttled by his honesty
which I'm inclined to believe, but could also be a lie, I'm compelled to ask,
“Why are you so interested in me, anyways?”

He pauses before answering.
“When I saw you at the race yesterday, I had to know who you were. I can see
there's something different about you. Something you seem to hide. And when you
brushed me off, it was the first time a girl has ever, straight up, ignored me.
At first, I figured you might… not prefer men.” I raise an eyebrow in question,
fold my arms over my chest, and wait for him to explain. He throws his hands up
and speaks with urgency as if he knows I will slap him. “But then, I talked to
Eric. When he clarified, I just wanted to try and talk to you again. You don’t
seem like any other girl I’ve ever met. You seem to be the type of person that
doesn’t take any crap.” He releases a
heavy
breath. “It’s
refreshing,” he shakes his head in disbelief of his own confession.

My butterflies stir into a
frenzy at his words.
Well, crap. Did I jump to conclusions to
o
fast about him?
“I’m still not interested in anything, but I think I could tolerate
starting over,” I joke and smile to lighten the mood. Jack flashes me his
incredible smile. I stick my hand out as a peace offering, “Ivy Harris.”

He takes my hand in his,
“Jack Roe. Nice to meet you, Ivy.” It's warm, and his touch sends a stronger
tingle through my palms in a welcoming invitation.
What am I doing to
myself? How am I going to be just friends with this guy? This is going to be
torture. Well, no going back now.
Under protest to reveal the longing our
touch creates, we release our grasp and saunter to the entrance of the
restaurant. “So, friend, will you let me drive your car?” he chides.

“Would you let me drive
yours?” I tease with a dubious smirk.

He pauses as he grasps the
handle of the glass door, lost in thought. Then, he smiles and opens the door
as he says, “Maybe.” I laugh. I know he would never let me drive his Skyline
just as much as I would never let him drive my Evo. She's my baby. Only I can
have that privilege.

gh

I wake up early to a
hammering at the front door. Throwing on an oversized Def Leopard shirt that
falls mid-thigh, I run to answer the persistent and obnoxious pounding. “What?”
I grumble, opening the entrance in time to see a delivery truck pulling away
from our driveway. A large box lay
s
on the porch.
Yes!
My new driver side headlight’s arrived. I had to order it online two weeks ago
after a semi threw a rock at me on the highway. It split the lens, and I can’t
have that. Bringing the box inside and sitting on the edge of the couch, I check
to make sure they sent the correct part. As I pull the headlight out of its
bubble wrap, Alice walks in.

“Oh
,
cool. It came,” she acknowledges, scratching her head
and yawning.

“Yeah,” I smile with
elation.

She walks back to the
kitchen to make coffee for us. “Are you going to replace it today?” she yells
through the house.

“Oh, yeah,” I boom low and
deep, imitating the Kool-Aid man. I place the headlight back in the box to go
get dressed.

By mid-morning, I have the
front end of my car on jack stands with the new headlight in, and I start
changing the oil. My music blares through the headphones of my iPod, and my
tools are strewn about, cooking in the sun. I lay back on my creeper and roll
under the car to place the drain pan into position.

After removing the drain
plug, I wait for the oil to finish pouring out while mumbling the lyrics to my
music. I reach out with a blind hand to feel for the filter wrench, when
someone snatches my foot and shakes it. Thinking it's Alice, I remove an earphone
plug from my ear to hear her better. “Hey, Alice! Will you hand me the filter
wrench? It a metal triangle with prongs and a red handle.” I'm uncertain if she
can figure out what I'm talking about, but she reaches under the car and places
it in my hand. I loosen the filter and use my hand to unthread it the rest of
the way. After it drops on top of the enclosed drain pan, I realize I can’t
reach the new filter either. Replacing the drain plug, I call out, “Can you
hand me the filter? It’s in a small orange and black box.” Alice reaches under
the car to hand it to me. “You're quiet. What’s up?” I note from under the car
as I thread the new filter on by hand.