Out Of The Ashes (12 page)

“Yes,” Gillian admitted. “Now I’m going to make some coffee. You need the sugar and caffeine.” She paused at the door. “Talk to him.”

I continued to the bed, where I sat down next to Paige, studying her face. She looked pale, pinched. Withdrawn.

“What happened, Paige?” I reached out to push the familiar wisp of hair behind her ear.

She looked at me, but not into my eyes. She glanced back toward the window.

“It’s nothing.”

I needed to see those impossibly green eyes focus on me. So I tilted her chin in my direction.

“Paige. I’m here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

She hesitated. Just for a second, but in that second I knew she didn’t trust me. I wasn’t sure she ever would.

“I—I just got some bad news today. That’s all. It’s really not a big deal, I don’t know why Gillian—“

“Because you fainted. That’s why,” Gillian said, entering the room with a large, steaming mug in her hands.

She handed the cup carefully to Paige.

“You what?” I asked.

“It was nothing, Clay,” she began.

“It was not nothing, Paige. You aren’t going to be able to deal with this alone. I refuse to let you.” Gillian’s voice was firm.

“Let’s go,” I ordered.

“Where?” Paige’s eyebrows knit together, and I second-guessed myself for distressing her.

“The doctor. The hospital. Something! You fainted and you don’t look so good now. So I’m either taking you, or you’re going to start talking.”

Desperation overtook me; for her to throw me a line, anything to let me show her that she could take me into her confidence. There was so much going on behind that perfect, delicate face. Her hair was falling into her eyes again.

She stared at me. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Her eyes hardened. “Why do you care so much?”

Now it was my turn to stare. I looked at her beautiful face and petite form stretched out in the bed. Then I just couldn’t look anymore.

I stood up and walked out of her room. Walking down the hallway toward the front door, I prayed she would stop me. I didn’t want to go, I just wasn’t sure what else to do.

If she didn’t understand by now how much she had changed me already, in the short time I’d known her…well she may never understand.

But I was ruined, regardless of what Paige Hill did from this moment on.

I reached the front door, opened it, and walked out into a crimson autumn.

Seventeen

Clay

Paige: I’m sorry.

An entire fortnight. I hadn’t heard from Paige in two weeks. I’d been going to class, going to therapy for my ankle. I’d been attending soccer practice. But that had been it. No parties, nothing else. I’d been waiting.

And this was all I got.

I wasn’t sure what to say, but I was angry. I thought we had been starting something new, something real.

Maybe I was wrong.

I put my phone back in my pocket, and heaved myself off the couch.

“Yo, Drew!” I shouted.

“What’s up, man?” Drew poked his head out of his room.

“Let’s go out.”

“Dude, seriously? I thought you’d decided to become a monk or something. You only have to say the word. Should we call Rob? I think he’s getting food or something.”

“Nah,” I declared.

Rob wasn’t going to agree with how I was choosing to spend my night. He’d waste my time, talking about Paige and suggesting I call her. I didn’t need that right now. I needed the carefree company Drew could provide.

“He can meet us out later,” I added.

“Word,” Drew nodded approvingly. “Is the Clay-minator back?”

“Don’t get carried away,” I warned. “I just want a drink, maybe some music.”

“Let’s hit up Matchstick’s, then.”

Matchstick was a bar in the middle of town. There was a room upstairs with more of a clubby vibe. I liked it. We could drink and catch whatever game was being televised downstairs, and then if I was feeling up to it, we could really party upstairs.

“Sounds good.”

Paige

“I don’t know, Gillian,” I protested. “I don’t think I’m up for it.”

The past two weeks of my life had been torture. Not torture in the way that revering from my burns had been. This was emotional torture.

Knowing that the fire that killed my family was, in a roundabout way, my fault was totally devastating in a way that physical pain never even broached. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. So I went through the motions of my current life and talked to Dr. Othello every day. And slowly, I figured out I could heal from this too.

“Paige, Tima’s going to be here any minute, and she’s not going to take no for an answer. And neither am I. I gave you a couple of weeks. I left you alone. I haven’t brought up the letter or Clay, no matter how much I wanted to. That’s long enough to mope.”

“I’m not moping!”

“Oh, you’re moping alright. And I don’t even get it. You could have stopped Clay when he left. You didn’t. That tells me something, and it obviously told him something, too.”

I looked at her, stricken. She hadn’t said that to me before.

“You think I should have stopped him?”

She sat down next to me on the couch, her eyes concerned. “You’re a smart girl, Paige. You weren’t ready for whatever was happening between you and Clay. If you had been, you would have opened up to him. He practically begged you to. So I’m not saying you did anything wrong. But you definitely sent him a message by just letting him walk out of here and not contacting him for two whole weeks. I know Clay. He definitely got the message.”

Sadness set in, deep in my muscles. My whole body throbbed with pain.

“Gill…I wasn’t trying to send him a message. I’ve just been afraid that telling him about what happened—showing him the real me—would send him packing, straight back to Hannah or whatever. I want him…I’m just scared to lose him.”

Gillian put a gentle hand on my knee. “Well, where is he now?”

I took a shuddering breath. “I actually do think I need to go have a drink.”

~**~

The crowd at Matchstick’s was amped; the place was a little more vibrant than I was used to. The air upstairs was muggy and clouds of smoke wafted by, lazily spinning in circles around frantically blinking strobe lights.

“It’s crazy in here!” I shouted in Tima’s ear. She nodded, smiling smugly at me.

“I know,” she answered. “Just the way I like it.”

Gillian had already danced away from us on the arm of some guy I didn’t know. I glanced around nervously, wondering what I should do.

“Do you want a sip of my drink?” Tima asked. She wasn’t old enough to drink either, but her fake I.D. told the bartender she was.

Did I want a drink? I’d never been to a club like this before, and the frenetic atmosphere was causing anxiety to snake out of my head and down my spine.

“Just a sip,” I replied.

She discreetly leaned in, and so did I, and I took her straw into the side of my mouth and sipped her drink. It tasted like nectar, ridiculously sweet and not like alcohol at all.

“Yum,” I told her.

“It’s way too good, right?” she nodded knowingly. “Drinks like this can get you into all kinds of trouble.”

She winked at me to let me know she welcomed such trouble, and I cracked a smile for the first time.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tima,” I told her.

She squeezed my arm. “Heard you’ve had a rough couple of weeks. You wanna talk about it?”

I shrugged. “Guys. Can’t live with ‘em…”

“Oh, I know, girl. Why do you think I’m single?”

I looked at her doubtfully. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Exotic looking, like a princess from another land.

“Why are you single, Tima?”

Now it was her turn to shrug. “That’s a whole ‘nother story, chica. Another night!”

The DJ spun another track, and the beat kicked up. Tima squealed, and started moving to the music, her hips swaying like a temptress.

I followed what she was doing. I liked the song, but I had never danced in a club. I was certain I looked ridiculous.

I must have been doing something right, because I heard a voice in my ear. “Damn, girl, you might break something moving like that.”

Tima, reading the panicked expression on my face, quickly leaned in. “It’s okay, Paige. It’s just a dance. Keep doing what you’re doing; he’ll just stand behind you. That’s all dancing really is.”

She tipped her drink in my direction again, and this time I took a long swig and gulped it down. I smiled at her gratefully.

Two songs later, the same guy still swayed behind me, and I still grooved to the hip-hop beat. I was sweating, my hair sticking to my face. But I had managed to stop the ache that had spread through my body when I realized what I had done to my potential relationship with Clay.

The alcohol, whatever it was, in Tima’s drink was also doing a little magic. Giddiness swirled through me, not in a happy way, but in a relaxed sort of daze that helped me forget. If only for a moment.

The guy behind me moved a little closer, or was it a lot closer? I was too nervous to turn around and find out. Tima was in her own world in front of me, a tall hulk of a guy pressed against the back of her. She had her eyes closed as she moved, and the guy was nodding in approval, his eyes riveted to her hips.

My partner’s hands landed on my waist, and he leaned in. “This okay?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept dancing. I didn’t really like having his hands on me. It felt wrong and dirty. The only person I wanted touching me wasn’t here. But I still felt like I was betraying him.

The dance floor continued to flood with people, and at one point the thought crossed my mind that we were breaking some kind of fire code rule.

Fire code rule?

My breath quickened. What if there was a fire in here? With all these people? Suddenly, heat flushed my face and I was too closed in. I grabbed the guy’s hands that were now sliding down my hips, and pushed them off.

“Hey!” he protested. “We were just getting started.”

He put his hands back where they were and pulled me closer.

The music pounded in my ears and I tried to catch Tima’s eye. But hers were still closed, and a lazy smile was now creeping onto her face. She nudged closer to the dancing hulk.

I placed my hands over my ears. I wanted to scream. Everything was too loud, and it was too packed in the club. I needed to get out.

Eighteen

Clay

“You ready to head on upstairs, man?” Drew asked, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

I nodded numbly. Tonight hadn’t been the remedy I wanted it to be. All I could think about was Paige. What was she doing tonight? Did she miss me? I should have texted her back. I considered doing it now.

“You sure? You look like you might just need to go on home,” Rob said.

He’d joined us about a half hour ago, and as I had expected, he was the voice of reason.

“No, I’m okay,” I lied. “I’m just going to finish out the night. I promised Drew a good time.”

Drew already lumbered toward the stairs, his lanky body moving at a lazy gait. His hands were shoved into his pockets. Rob and I left some money on the bar for our tabs and followed Drew up the narrow carpeted staircase.

Upstairs, the air was coated with the sweaty thickness that typically plagued clubs. I looked around, frowning, and wandered toward the bar. The DJ was earning his keep, playing the hottest music on the radio.

I ordered a beer and stood with my back against the bar, watching the mass of bodies writhing to the beat. There wasn’t a single girl in here I’d be willing to dance with. The girl I wanted to dance with was probably cuddled up in her cute little shorts on her couch. The thought almost sent me running back down the stairs. Maybe she was wondering why I hadn’t texted her back. I pulled out my phone.

“Dude!” Drew elbowed me roughly.

I glared at him. “What’s your problem?”

“That’s Gillian!”

I looked over to the corner where he was pointing. It was indeed Gillian, and the sight of her made my stomach do a belly flop.

“So?”

“So, that guy’s all over her!”

I peered closer. Gillian appeared very drunk, and some guy really was getting way too close. I frowned. The fact Gillian was single didn’t mean some asshole in a club was good enough for her. I wasn’t quite as worked up about it as Drew, but it did bother me.

“So go get him off her,” I instructed, running a hand over my head. “Do you need help?”

“Hello, no,” he said.

He stalked away. I watched for a second, amused, wondering when Drew became so protective of our female friends. I remembered my phone in my hands and looked down at it, the keypad glowing a soft green in my hands.

I glanced up again as I pulled up Paige’s text, and my eyes zeroed in on the petite brunette in the middle of the dance floor with her hands covering her ears. As I watched, her hair fell over the side of her face, and my stomach tightened almost painfully.