Reborn (15 page)

“You
have
to. You guys never play your old stuff anymore.”

Jimmy
glances at Peter for help, but the keyboardist just shrugs.

“It’s
not a big deal,” Peter says. “We should be able to fit it in.”

“Okay.
Maybe,” Jimmy concedes, but he still looks uncomfortable.

“Yeah!”
The guy punches the air in triumph.

Peter
has a huge, fake smile plastered on his face that disappears when the guy and
his friends turn away to sit down at the next table over. “Who was that?” he
asks Jimmy.

Jimmy
shakes his head in bewilderment. “I guess I must know him from somewhere, but I
don’t remember.”

“What’s
‘Serena?’” I wonder.

“A
song I wrote a long time ago. A
really
long time ago.” Jimmy gets up and
pushes his chair under the table. “We’d better go. I feel bad leaving you here
by yourself.”

“Don’t
worry about me. This is great.” I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. “I
feel like a groupie.” Jimmy laughs and leans down to kiss me.

“So
tell me more about this ‘sexy lumberjack’ Anna was with…” I hear Jimmy ask
Peter before their voices fade out as they leave to set up. I drain the rest of
my lemon drop and surf the web on my phone.

Ten
minutes later, the lights in the bar get even dimmer, and Jimmy quickly
introduces his band mates before they start their first song. I recognize all
of the songs they play in the first half from the other concerts. Thankfully
Jimmy isn’t cutting himself this time.

“My
friend over there,” Jimmy announces, pointing at Linebacker’s table, “has
requested a song we haven’t done in a while that I wrote about a girl named
Serena.” He glances nervously in my direction while Peter plays a haunting
intro on his keyboard. Why is he so anxious? Is Serena an old girlfriend? Jimmy
starts to sing, his voice deep and trembling, and at first I let the music wash
over me as it saturates the atmosphere at The End with angst.

“From
behind her pompoms she flashes you a pretty smile,”
Jimmy whispers, and the
line pricks my ears. I really start to listen to the lyrics.
“But when she’s
with her friends you will only hear denial…”
If Jimmy hadn’t been so
reluctant to play the song—if he didn’t keep looking my way while he was
singing it—I probably wouldn’t have realized it.

The song is
about me.

I’m
Serena.

I
get up when he’s still in the middle of it and stomp out of the bar. Jimmy
fumbles the lyrics, and the guitar melody dies.

“Siobhan,
wait!” he calls into the microphone. I keep walking, not looking back. The rest
of the band stops playing, and desperate footsteps sound behind me.

“Siobhan,
I
told
you!” Jimmy catches up with me outside. It’s pouring again, the
rain making a tinny sound as it falls on the awning. “I wrote that song in high
school. I’m not angry at you anymore!”

I
hesitate, then turn slowly around to face him. “
You’re
not angry at
me
anymore?”

“Come
on. You have to admit, you kind of deserved it,” he says bitterly.

  “You
know what? I know what I did was wrong, and I’ve always regretted it. A day
hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought of you and wished things had turned out
differently.

“But
I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who screwed up.” I go up to him and
jab him in his hard, bare chest with my finger. “
You
kept secrets from
me, too.
You
could have told your friends to stop making fun of me. And
you didn’t have to play the damn song.”

“This
is stupid.” He takes my hand and gives it a tight, earnest squeeze. “It’s in
the past. We both need to get over it if we’re ever going to—”

“I
slept over at Jasper’s last night.” I don’t know what makes me say it. I wasn’t
planning on telling him, but suddenly the confession is flying off my lips, and
I can’t take it back.

For
a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just releases my hand, crosses his arms
and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Did
you hook up with him?” He asks it softly, as if he’s afraid of my answer.

“Of
course not!”

“You’re
right—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. That’s not the point anyway. It’s that
I hurt you by playing the song, but instead of trying to work it out, you tell
me something that you
know
will hurt me.” Jimmy frowns in disgust.
“That’s really low.”

“You’re
hurt?”

“Of
course! I
love
you!” For an instant, Jimmy looks like he’s surprised
himself, but then he reaches for me, like he’s going to pull me into an
embrace. “I always have.”

I
step back, holding out my hands to stop him. “I can’t deal with this right
now.”

“Where
are you going?” he calls after me as I walk out into the torrential rain.

“Home,”
I tell him.

“Come
on. I can drive you.”

I
shake my head, pursing my lips. I hope the droplets of rain skimming down my
face conceal the fact that some of them are tears. “I’ll take the bus.”

“Siobhan!”

I
run as fast as I can in my heels in the direction of the bus stop. When I get
there I sit down on the bench under the shelter and slick back my wet hair out
of my face. I wipe at my cheeks with my hands, the pads of my fingers turning
up black from my melting mascara. I let out another choking sob and cover my
face with my hands.

“Siobhan?”

I
start at the sound of my name, knowing who it is even before I look up.

“Are
you okay?” Jasper asks me. He closes his black umbrella and sits down beside
me. “Did something bad happen?” Reaching into the pocket of his trench coat, he
pulls out a white handkerchief, because of course he would have one of those.
I’m feeling too sorry for myself to make fun of him for it. Sliding closer to
me, he dabs my wet cheeks with it.

“Is
there anything I can do?” he wonders, retracting his hand.

I
study his face: his worried frown, the creases in his forehead, the unreachable
dark pools of his eyes. Grabbing his face with both of my hands, I pull it
closer to mine so that I can kiss him, pouring all of my anger and frustration
into it. Jasper gives into it gladly, dragging me onto his lap as rain slaps
the roof above us.

Part Three

Withdrawal

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I move the stars
for no one.”–Lyrics
Within You
, David Bowie,
Labyrinth
Soundtrack

Chapter 21

As
soon as Jasper and I go inside his apartment, his
lips find mine again,
and he picks me up and carries me to his bed with ease. He sits on the edge of
it with me straddling him, rocking myself against his erection. Breathing hard,
he reluctantly breaks our kiss to ask me, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I crush my lips
against his in answer. Although my mind’s still fuzzy from the alcohol, that’s
not what’s driving my sudden abandon. It’s
him
. And somewhere in my
Jasper-addled brain, Rational Siobhan tries to poke through the haze with words
of warning, but I shove her back. I don’t want to think; I just want to feel
Jasper’s hands possessing me, to hear our moans of frustration between kisses.
I want to taste the salt of his skin and the metallic sting of his blood when I
accidentally nip his lower lip too hard.

In
one swift motion he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it to the floor.
His breath
hitches in his throat as he drinks me in.

“God, you’re
gorgeous,” he says, his voice raspy and husky with need.
His greedy lips
move from my mouth, down my neck to my chest as he unhooks my bra and flings
that aside, too, allowing my wings to unfurl. I lean back and continue to grind
against him as his mouth claims one of my breasts, rolling his thumb over the
nipple of the other.

His free hand is
supporting my lower back and tugs at the waistband of my leggings. “Let’s get
these off of you,” he murmurs against my breast. He lifts me up and lays me
down beneath him on the bed. He slides my leggings down over my hips, buttocks
and legs. I’ve found that undressing is usually the most awkward part of sex,
but not with Jasper; his every move is smooth and expert, and in seconds we’re
both completely naked.

“
Jasper
.”
I shudder as his fingers plunge into me suddenly and forcefully. I think I’m
going to come already, but then he slows down the motion, sliding them out and
teasing my clitoris with this thumb. His kisses become lighter and more
deliberate as well, and when I try to pick up the pace again he chuckles.

“Just relax.
Let’s take our time.” He says it as he’s still teasing me down below.

“But I want
you.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“What do you
want, Siobhan?” His expectant stare lets me know he wants me to tell him
exactly what I want.

“
You
.” I
grab him and glide my hand eagerly up and down his shaft. “Inside me.” He
throbs underneath my touch, growing harder, which I didn’t even think was
possible.

His
wings emerge, enveloping me in a black, feathery curtain as he finally plunges
inside me. My fingers dig into his back. His thrusts are deep and furious and
quickly bring me to orgasm—much faster than Max’s. As he watches me come again
and again, he looks at me with a mixture of fascination and something that
could be triumph.

Like waves
pushing up against the beach, roll after roll of explosive pleasure racks my
body. I lose track of time, but Jasper eventually finds his release. For a
moment he stays on top of me, and we cling to each other, panting and sweating.
He eases off of me and pulls me into his chest. I nuzzle up against him and
close my eyes.

When
I open them again, we’re spooning on the bed, and the room is completely dark.
I crane my neck to look over at him. Watching me through hooded eyes, he
realizes I’m awake and presses his lips lightly to mine. Our hunger reignites,
and I can feel him growing hard against my behind. He crawls on top of me and
leaves a trail of kisses down my neck, across my breasts and over my abdomen
until his head disappears beneath the covers.

***

The
second time I wake up, sunlight strains against the closed blinds, and I’m
alone in his bed. The top sheet has come loose from the mattress, and the cozy
charcoal gray comforter has fallen to the hardwood floor. I stare up at the
milky white ceiling lamp, blinking back sleep from my eyes. In a dream-like
state, last night slipped by like sand through my fingers. We could have been
making love for days, even weeks, and I wouldn’t have sensed time’s passage.
But I know it’s only been the one night.

I look over at
the digital clock on the nightstand—it’s ten in the morning—and see a note on
his pillow. I reach over to grab it and bring it to my face:

Went to campus.
You looked so content, I hated to wake you. Thanks for a beautiful night. Use
anything you need, and see you later. —J

I stretch, roll out
of bed and pick the sheet up from the floor. The soft kiss of the sheet against
my skin as I wrap it around myself reminds me of Jasper’s satin touch. I plod
barefoot to the bathroom. It’s not until I get in the shower, turn it on and
have to jump back from the ice cold spray battering my face that it really hits
me:

Jasper
and I had sex.

And
I feel…

Well,
mostly I feel pretty glorious. Heat still gathers between my thighs as I recall
our lovemaking and, although I got lost in every delicious, carnal moment, it
held a note of intimacy I hadn’t been expecting. There was desire in his touch,
but also tenderness. Last night Jasper was Eros making love to his long lost
wife.

If
I wasn’t confused before, I definitely am now. I know in a past life I was supposed
to have loved him, but whoever Psyche was I’m not that same woman. And except
for the memories that resurface as dreams, I don’t remember my life with him.
Circumstances are different now—maybe even
he’s
different. Jasper is
still the guy who left me with an uncontrollable ability that made my
adolescence miserable. The guy who’s been keeping his little spy club (or
whatever it is they’re doing) a secret from me.

And
what about Jimmy? I know we had a fight, but he told me he’s in love with
me—that he’s
always
loved me. A part of me never stopped loving him,
too. I didn’t want to screw it up this time, but I probably already have after
the way I acted yesterday; plus I’ve gone and done the very thing I told Jimmy
didn’t happen.

I
get out of the shower and pat myself dry with one of Jasper’s dark green
towels. I don’t have a toothbrush here, so I open the cabinet above the sink in
search of some mouthwash. It’s virtually empty except for his toothpaste, a
bottle of Listerine and an amber-colored bottle with an eyedropper cap. I guess
Olympians don’t need cough syrup or ibuprofen. I take down the Listerine and
the glass bottle, turning it around to look at the white label.
Ambrosia
is scrawled across it in dark pencil. I’ve heard of ambrosia before—I just
can’t remember what it was in Greek mythology. I thought it was supposed to be
their food or something. Unscrewing the cap, I bring it up to my nose and take
a delicate whiff: sweet, like honey.

My
mouth minty fresh, I place everything back where it was and close the cabinet
door. I sigh when I go back into the “bedroom” and see my clothes from
yesterday crumpled on the floor: Did I really just take a shower without having
clean clothes to put on afterwards? I go commando in my leggings and cloak
myself in another one of his black t-shirts—only this one has the Rolling
Stones tongue stamped in red on the front of it. Does he actually listen to the
Rolling Stones or does he just want to be trendy? What’s his favorite kind of
music? Does he even like our music? Sadness and uncertainty creep over me, but
I shake them off, grab my things and go outside to catch the bus.

On
the bus I finally check my phone. I have a dozen angry text messages from my
sisters—Tanya, Victoria, Carly—all asking me where the hell I am. Curfew—just
another thing that completely evaporated from my mind while I was with Jasper.
The thought of going back to the house and facing Victoria, or worse, Farrah,
makes my heart thud in my chest. Maybe I’ll just stay on campus all day until I
absolutely have to go back.

The
last text message is from an unfamiliar number:

hi
this is sam. jasper told me about the blind date thing and i'd love to take
victoria. let me know the details. thnx

Sam?
Perfect. Jasper may have gone overboard with the whole Anna and Dr. Mars
pairing, but a Sam-Victoria set up kills two birds with one stone: Victoria
gets a date, and as president it gives her an opportunity to build a
relationship with Sigma Iota’s president. Okay, I guess thinking of it that way
zaps all of the romance out of it, but it’s not like my big sister’s looking
for a boyfriend, anyway.

While
I’m on my phone, I google
ambrosia
and follow the first link to its
Wikipedia article. I’m right:
“Ambrosia was considered to be the food or
drink of the Olympian gods, thought to bestow immortality.”
Of course,
that’s in Greek mythology—maybe it’s really some kind of supplement or drug to
them. The bus pulls up to the stop on campus, so I put my phone away and join
the line of students waiting to get off.

Despite
the morning shower, my gross-feeling increases as the day wears on, but I avoid
going home until lab is over at five. As I creep into the sorority house, I
hear the hum of voices behind Farrah’s closed door. I carefully take off my
shoes and tiptoe toward the stairs, but just as my foot touches the first step,
Farrah’s door swings open, and she herds the entire executive board into the
living room. Victoria sees me first, her eyes bugging out of her face.

“There
you are!” she exclaims. “Where were you last night? We were worried about you.”

“Apparently
not worried enough to
not
have a secret meeting in Farrah’s room,” I
point out. Victoria grinds her lips together before opening her mouth to reply,
but Farrah’s sharp voice cuts her off.

“In
here,” she says. A furious scowl twists her lovely face. “
Now
.”