Milayna's Angel (8 page)

“Shouldn’t you ask your parents first?”

“Nah, they think you’re the next best thing
since the invention of the wheel. I think they love you more than
me. They’ll be fine with it.”

“‘Kay, be right there.”

He hung up, and I dropped my head back on my
pillow.

So. Very. Tired.

I drifted off to sleep until I heard the
doorbell ring. Jumping out of bed, I pulled off my sleep shirt and
put on sweatpants and a T-shirt before running into my bathroom to
brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair.

Bed head. Ugh.

The floorboards creaked outside my door
followed by a quiet knock.

I used a little water to smooth out my frizzy
curls. “Just a sec!”

I flung the door open and thanked the good
Lord I’d finished getting dressed because there in all his
awesomeness stood Chay in jeans that rode low on his hips and a
T-shirt that showed just enough bicep to make my mouth water.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “Your
dad said I could come up but that he’d pull me out by my ear if I
stayed more than ten seconds. I’m just supposed to tell you
breakfast is ready.” He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his
jeans, causing them to dip lower on his hips. I almost groaned out
loud.

Good Lord, thank you for making the eighth
wonder of the world and for letting him be my boyfriend.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Grabbing my hand, he
pulled me in for a quick kiss. He tasted of spearmint; his mouth
cool when my tongue dipped inside. I sighed and pulled back. “Let’s
go eat,” I muttered, preferring the kiss to breakfast.

My family’s weekly tradition was that we had
breakfast together every Saturday morning. Chay had breakfast with
us most Saturdays since we’d been dating, which was an arrangement
I loved. And like most Saturdays, or any other time Chay was over,
my parents grilled him about everything.
Everything
. It was
like they were ex-KGB and didn’t get the memo that the war had
ended.

Where are you going to college? What are
you going to study? How is school going? Milayna says you have a
term paper due in English, what’s your topic? Are you playing
baseball this spring?
And on and on. But Chay was a good sport.
He answered each and every tedious question without blinking an
eye. I think he liked my parents as much as they liked him.

“Do you mind if I steal Milayna for the
afternoon today?”

“Nope. Steal away,” my mom said.

“Just like that? You don’t even want to know
where we’re going or what we’re doing? Just ‘
steal away
?’ I
feel so loved.” I rolled my eyes.

“Nah, we know Chay will take good care of
you. But out of curiosity, what are you going to do?” my dad
asked.

“That’s better,” I muttered.

“Just the boring dinner and a movie date. I’m
saving the kegger party for next weekend,” Chay said, straight
faced.

My dad didn’t bat an eyelash. “Good to
know.”

“I have to go.” Chay gave me a quick kiss
before standing. “I have chores to do before I’m set loose for the
day. Thank you for breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. It was
delicious as usual.”

“That’s because my dad didn’t cook.”

“I can ground you, you know,” my dad told me
with an over-exaggerated smile.

Chay laughed. “See ya, Benjamin,” he called
to my brother. “I’ll see you at three?” He looked at me.

“Three’s good,” I said, walking him to the
door where he could give me a proper kiss goodbye. The kind he
would never give me in front of my parents.

***

Chay picked me up at three exactly. Snow fell
from the gray sky, covering the sidewalks and trees. We were going
to dinner at our favorite little café on the waterway. Gusts of
wind blew so hard it made it difficult to walk in a straight line.
It was freezing, the kind of wind that bites your skin. My hair
swirled around, smacking me in the face. By the time we got to the
café, our cheeks were red and our noses running from the cold.
Inside was warm and dry. There was a fire burning in the old stone
fireplace and we sat at a table as close to it as we could, warming
ourselves and listening to the fire crackling. We ordered hot
chocolate and warmed our hands on the mugs as we drank the rich,
chocolaty awesomeness covered in whipped cream.

After our early dinner, we went to a movie. A
nice, action-packed, bomb-exploding, limbs-flying, guts-protruding
movie. Very romantic. It’d been Chay’s turn to pick. About halfway
through the movie, I felt the first thump on the bottom of my seat.
I ignored it. The person continued kicking my seat. After the
eleventh or twelfth time, I looked over my shoulder to give them a
dirty look. I saw a smiling face looking back at me.

“I thought that was you,” Xavier
whispered.

“Hi.” I looked beside him to see who his date
was. Not that I cared… much.

“Like the movie?”

I opened my mouth to answer when I heard,
“Like the people around me to be quiet during the movie,” Chay
said.

“Sorry, man. I’ll talk to you after,
Milayna,” Xavier said and settled back in his seat, turning his
gaze back to the screen.

“No, you won’t,” Chay grumbled under his
breath. I elbowed him. He tossed a piece of popcorn at me, his eyes
never leaving the blood and gore splattering across the gigantic
screen he forced me to sit two feet from.

When the movie ended, I stood and reached for
my coat on the back of the chair. It was gone. I turned to Chay. He
usually held it for me to put on. He was that way, opening doors,
holding the car door open for me to get in and out, and holding my
coat for me to slip into. All the stuff you’d see men do for women
in old movies, he did. He did everything but throw his coat over a
mud puddle before I walked across it, and I wouldn’t be surprised
if he did that. His dad had taught Chay how to treat a girl with
respect. I loved that.

But it wasn’t Chay who held my coat. It was
Xavier. I could almost hear Chay growl in annoyance.

“Here you go, Milayna.” Xavier helped me slip
into my coat before he wrapped my scarf around my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I said slowly.

Is he trying to tick Chay off intentionally
or is he really that stupid that he can’t see we’re on a date?

“So, out for a night on the town, huh?”
Xavier looked between us.

Ah, he’s trying to tick Chay off
intentionally, then. What for?

“Yup,” Chay said. He was barely civil.

And it’s working.

“Not the best movie to take a girl to, Chay,”
Xavier said with a laugh.

“I picked the movie last time,” I said.

Why am I explaining it to him? It’s none of
his business.

“Ah.”

We stood quietly for a few seconds, looking
at each other uncomfortably. Chay broke the silence first.

“Well, Milayna and I have to go. We’ll see ya
around.”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Milayna.” Xavier’s gaze
followed me. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, and I had
the weirdest urge to smooth it back in place.

“Bye.” I let Chay guide me out of the
theater, his hand on the small of my back sending electrical
currents up and down my spine. I loved it when he did that.

Chay unlocked and opened the car door for me,
holding it while I slid in. He ran around the other side and
climbed in, starting the car and turning up the heater.

Rubbing his hands together to warm them, he
looked at me. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Between Xavier and you?”

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I
can’t believe you, Chay. You honestly think something was going on
between us back there? I didn’t know he was going to be there any
more than you did. And if I had known, I would have suggested
another movie, maybe even another theater altogether. Geez.”

“Sorry, but he’s flirting with you.”

“But I’m with you. Right here and now, I’m
with you, and you’re wasting a perfectly good opportunity to kiss
me because you’re grumbling about Xavier.”

“Why is this a perfect time?”

“Ugh, you’re dense. You’re not supposed to
need a reason to want to kiss your girlfriend. But if I have to
give you one, it’s because Xavier is going to walk by the car in
about ten seconds. Wouldn’t you rather him see us kissing instead
of fighting about him?”

That was all the incentive Chay needed. I
refused to think about which particular reason he chose to kiss me.
I decided it was just because he wanted to and not because Xavier
was walking by, but I suspected it was a little of both.

Pulling me over to him, as close as the
center console would allow, he wrapped his hand behind my neck. He
smiled down at me before leaning in for a kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he raised his head and
smiled at me. He was gorgeous, a great kisser, and the best…

Then he opened his mouth and ignited my bitch
switch.

“I wonder what Xavier thought of that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You just
kissed me like that on the off-chance he was watching? What an
idiot. Let’s go.” I flopped back in my seat and stared out the side
window.

“Milayna—”

“Take me home, Chay. You’re on my bitchy
nerve right now. Your mouth just ruined a perfectly good day. Not
to mention what I thought was a mind-numbing kiss, but
whatever.”

“It was a great kiss—”

“It was a staged kiss for Xavier’s benefit,”
I accused. “Next time, you can just kiss Xavier.”

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me. You’re
the one who told me to kiss you because he was walking past the
car.”

“No, no, what I said was you shouldn’t need a
reason to kiss me, but if I had to give you one—”

“Whatever, Milayna.”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

“You interrupt me all the time!” he
yelled.

And then the worst thing happened. I started
to cry. I was so mad that I cried. Every nerve in my body was
connected to my tear ducts. If I was mad, I cried. If I was sad, I
cried. If I was happy, lonely, scared or whatever, I cried.

Chay mistook my tears as a reason to reach
out to me. I batted his hand away. “I’m mad at you,” I
blubbered.

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because I cry when I’m pissed. Take me
home.”

“You’re being… whatever. Fine. I’ll take you
home.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he snapped back.

What a stupid argument.

We didn’t talk on the drive back to my house.
I didn’t wait for him to get out and open the car door for me. I
was out of the car before he could shift it into park. I stomped
across the driveway and up the front steps of the porch. Walking
through the door, I slammed it behind me. I heard the crunching of
his car’s tires on the snow-covered road and cried some more.

“Hey, honey, how was your date?” my mom
called.

“Don’t ask.”

“Uh-oh, want to talk about it?”

“Not really, but thanks anyway, Mom. I just
want to go upstairs and take a long, hot bath to warm up. It’s
freezing outside.”

***

Sunday was miserable. There was no call first
thing in the morning to wake me up. His voice wasn’t the first one
I heard, and I missed it. Of course, I could have called him, but
that would have interfered with the pity party I was having for
myself.

Chay had texted me as soon as he got home
Saturday night. I read the text to make sure everything was all
right. When I knew it was, and had satisfied my curiosity about
what he wanted to say, I set the phone on my nightstand without
answering. I told myself if he texted again, I’d answer him. But
even though I kept checking every thirty seconds—okay, maybe not
that often, it was a least a minute between peeks—he didn’t text
again. Disappointment flooded me. Which was so totally stupid since
he did text me first.

Disappointment quickly gave way to irritation
by Sunday morning. He texted me twice Sunday afternoon. I didn’t
acknowledge either of them, which was rude and childish. I didn’t
care. I’d decided sometime in the wee hours of the morning when I
was lying in bed thinking about him that I didn’t want to discuss
things through text messages. So I was waiting for him to call. He
didn’t. Which pissed me off even more.

Of course, I could’ve—should’ve—called him.
He’d made the first move by texting as soon as he got home Saturday
night and telling me he loved me. But I was still in the midst of
my pity party, and I wasn’t going near the phone first.
No
friggin’ way
.

I heard the doorbell ring around dinnertime,
and my heart beat a staccato rhythm against my ribs.

Chay!

I bounded down the stairs just as my dad
opened the door.

“Hey, how ya doing?” my dad said.

I heard a man answer. “Doin’ good, and
you?”

That isn’t Chay. Who is that?

My dad opened the door wider for the guy to
come inside, and time screeched to a halt.

7

Xavier.

Seriously? Xavier here?

The foyer was at the foot of the stairs.
Xavier just had to look up and see me standing on the steps. I
backed up slowly before he noticed me. Making my way quietly to my
bedroom, I avoided the floorboards I knew creaked.

Xavier. Xavier? What’s he doing here? He
knows my dad? Xavier, really?

I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around him
being in my house, or why he’d be there in the first place.

“Milayna…” I heard a high-pitched voice call
from outside.

“Oh, no,” I whispered. “Not now.”

“We’re here to play,” Friendly called from
the yard below my window. He looked like a demonic Santa Claus with
his red skin covered in the fresh, white snow.

“Come outside now,” Scarface screeched. “It’s
too damned cold out here to play. I wanna go home where it’s
warm.”