Reborn (3 page)

“He
reminded me
so
much of Dark Angel,” I conclude. “I’m like, eighty five
percent sure it’s him. I’m just not
entirely
sure because…”

“Because you’d
rather it not be him,” Anna finishes for me. “Because that would be creepy.”

I nod eagerly.
“Please, Anna.” I take a deep breath before going on. “I know you have every
reason to hate me—and I know you don’t have any good reason to help me. I
just…I don’t know why, but this is really bothering me. No, that’s an
understatement.” I should stop talking, but suddenly everything is pouring out
of me. Anna watches me intently. “When I saw him, I was so scared I wanted to
run out of the room. Anna, I—”

Anna holds up
her hand to cut me off. “It’s fine, Siobhan. Really. I can understand why
you’re scared. That whole thing at the bonfire was just…weird.” She shuts her
eyes and shakes her head as if that will erase the memory. “We don’t know why
he was there or who he is.
What
he is,” she corrects herself.

“The next class
is Wednesday morning, ten to eleven,” I tell her. “I was thinking you could
meet me there and sit in, even if you just stayed for a few minutes. It’s a
huge class—no one will know you aren’t enrolled.”

Anna shakes her
head. “That’s when my seminar class is. Does he have office hours?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow
night, actually,” I recall, surprised that my distracted brain had absorbed any
part of Dr. Mars’s lecture. “Seven o’clock, I think, at the library café.”

“I can go then,”
Anna says. “You don’t have to if it’s going to be too much for you. I can text
you what I think.”

“I’ll meet you
there,” I insist. “If it
is
him and he’s going to be my TA, I have to
get over this at some point—”

We both jump
when her phone starts buzzing on the table. She picks it up and taps the
screen.

“It’s a text
from Jimmy,” she mutters, then glances up as if she’s anticipating some big
reaction from me. It’s usually painful for me to think about Jimmy—it causes a
desperate ache inside of me that awakens my wings—but I remind myself to relax
because I’m not alone.

“How is he?” I
ask her, keeping my voice steady.

“Jimmy’s…Jimmy,”
Anna sighs. “He’s trying to make it with his band and bartending on the side.”

“That’s great!”
I exclaim. Anna raises her eyebrows doubtfully. “He plays, like, every
instrument that was ever invented, and he has that beautiful baritone voice.
He’s still following his passion. I think that’s incredible.” As soon as the
words fly out of my mouth, I wish I could swallow them back up. I hope I didn’t
offend Anna since she chose the more practical road rather than the life of the
struggling performer.

But
Anna just shrugs. “I don’t know about that. They do okay in the city, but I
don’t think it’s going anywhere big. I keep telling him he should have
something to fall back on. He’s a smart guy—he should go to college, get a
degree and grow up. But he’s so damn stubborn.” She’s texting him back while
she rants. I can’t help but wonder if she’s telling him she’s with me. “His
band literally consumes him. I feel bad for any girl he dates. He never puts
anyone before his band, except maybe Mom. Sometimes me.

“Anyway, it’s
almost eight thirty,” she announces. “I need to get going. You live at the
sorority house, right? Do you want a ride back?”

“Um, sure, if
it’s not too much out of your way.” I run my fingers through my hair to get the
strays out of my face and slip my purse over my shoulder. “Where do you live?”

“In an
off-campus house with Jimmy and two of his bandmates.”

“That’s
cozy,” I reply even though I’m grimacing.

“Nope, the
expression on your face just about covers it,” Anna says, and for the first
time tonight she’s laughing and giving me a genuine smile, looking more like
the Anna I used to know—Anna, my best friend. “It’s a decent place, though, and
the rent is cheaper than anything on campus, although Jimmy and I usually end
up paying most of it.” She takes her car keys out of her purse, and we stand and
make our way to a banana yellow pickup truck.

Minutes later,
we’re idling in front of the sorority house.

“Thanks for the
ride,” I tell her. I hop out of the car and shut the door.

“Siobhan!”
I hear her calling out to me as the passenger’s side window slides down. “It
was… nice seeing you today.”

I hesitate for
an instant, her words catching me off guard. I decide on a simple, “You, too.
See you tomorrow.”

“See you!” The
car window rolls back up, and she peels away from the curb. I look up to see a
tall, lanky girl approaching the house from the direction of campus. She has
skin the color of coffee and cream, and tightly woven cornrows crisscross her
scalp and ripple down her shoulders like black ropes.

“Liz. Hey, Liz!”
I yell when she doesn’t look up right away.

She starts and
finally looks my way. “Oh. Hey, Siobhan!” Her voice is cheerful, but her
expression is strange. Her almond-shaped brown eyes are slightly glazed over.

“Everything
okay? Hey, you missed our board meeting!” I remember suddenly. “We tried to
text you. Where were you?”

“Oh, shoot!” She
smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I went to office hours after my
last class to get to know the professor. It totally slipped my mind.” We’re at
the door to the house now, and I take my card key out of my pocket and swipe it
through the lock. “Victoria’s going to kill me!” she adds with a groan.

I’m about to
reassure her, but then I shrug. “Probably.”

“So how was your
day?” she asks me.

Weird, I want to
say. “Not bad.”

“Cool,
cool. God, I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten dinner yet,” she says almost to
herself as she heads into the kitchen.

When I go
upstairs, Tanya’s not in our room. I ease the door shut and change into some
pajamas. The practice problems we’re supposed to do before lab tomorrow take me
longer than I thought they would. My head hits the pillow at midnight.

Chapter 4

“My love.”

I feel his warm
breath on my ear as he encircles his arms around me. I tilt my head back to
accept a long, luxurious kiss from him. Like snow clinging to shaggy
evergreens, his broad wings form a feathery white curtain around us. His hands
slide up my waist to cup my breasts. I moan against his mouth and curl my
fingers into his dark hair. They come up wet, and my lips hesitate as I pull
back and open my eyes. Scarlet liquid pools on the pads of my fingers. I look
up in confusion…

…and
blanch at the sight of his beautiful white wings, which are now black as night
and dripping blood onto the pale gold sheets.

“What’s
wrong?” he asks me, puzzled. I open my mouth in a silent scream…

I awake with a
jolt, sitting up, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest I wonder if it could
wake Tanya up. But when I look over, I see a peacefully rising and falling lump
under her hot pink bedspread, a fan of platinum blonde hair splayed on the
pillow. Grayish light peaks between the lacey yellow curtains on the window
above her bed.

I look at my
phone. It’s only six o’clock. Lab isn’t until one, so I could sleep in, but
I’ll probably just return to my nightmare. Is every night’s sleep destined to
be a mixture of erotic bliss and anguish now that I know he’s here?

Tiptoeing
out of bed, I throw on black spandex shorts and a purple nylon shirt.
A cool, serene
gray morning greets me outside—perfect for a morning run. The fresh, crisp air
washing over my skin erases the dream’s residue, a trail of slime in the back
of my mind. I return to the sorority house sweaty but invigorated, ready to
face the day and tonight’s mission. I’m going to get up early and go for a run every
morning. I know that this is never going to happen—as the semester gets busier,
they will turn into sporadic, whenever-I-can-fit-them-in jogs—but it’s a nice
thought.

I
shower and change again into my least favorite pair of jeans and a t-shirt I
wouldn’t mind sacrificing for the sake of science. To my surprise, the day
flies by, and at five I realize that I haven’t thought about Jasper Hart all
day. I only remember when I get a text from Anna:

Are we still on
for 7?

Yes!
I quickly text
back, sighing at the reminder of our mission. Fingers crossed, after this
evening I will know whether Jasper Hart and Dark Angel are one-and-the-same,
and whether or not I’ll be able to survive having him as my TA without breaking
down at every lecture. Will he recognize us?

I place a frozen
eggplant parmesan in the microwave downstairs for dinner. While it’s warming
up, I change yet again, this time into my form-fitting khaki dress and dusty
purple flats.

“Going
out?” Victoria’s pulling a box of pasta out of the cupboard as I walk back into
the kitchen. I pause while the microwave gives one, prolonged strident beep
before replying.

“Not really,
just office hours for my history class.”

“Already? How
over-achiever of you.”

I shrug, but
someone stomping into the kitchen saves me from having to elaborate. Anything
more would be a lie—and I don’t want to lie to my big sister. Tanya jerks open
the fridge in a huff, takes out a bottle of diet Pepsi and slams it shut.

“You okay?” I
ask, at the same time popping open the microwave door. Inside my eggplant
parmesan is ready for me, all sizzling and gooey. I pinch the hot sides of the
tray with my fingers, quickly remove it and set it on the counter to cool off.

“
No
.” She
twists the cap of the bottle, and it opens with a hiss. “I was late meeting up
to pass out fliers for rush and got a lecture from that bitch on Panhel.”

“Which
one?” I ask her, ignoring Victoria’s reprimanding glare. Panhellenic Council is
the governing body that oversees all of the sororities on campus.

“Samantha
Carson. She’s an Alpha Rho. Of course. She lectured me about punctuality and
the value of other people’s time. Like I’m in freaking elementary school. I
could just…strangle that stupid dyke!” Tanya’s squeezing her bottle so hard I’m
waiting for pop to go shooting out of it. In her fit of rage she doesn’t see
Victoria roll her eyes. The look our big sister  gives me seems to say,
And
you wonder why I haven’t told her?

“I was five
minutes late. God.” Tanya keeps muttering to herself on the way out the door.

“Maybe you need
a lecture on how to stop being such a whiny brat,” Victoria says under her
breath, which makes me burst out laughing through a mouthful of sticky
eggplant.

My
heart is already hammering in my chest on the walk over to the library, but I
take periodic deep breaths to keep my twitchy wings at bay. Anna waits for me
outside the entrance. She’s wearing skinny jeans and another plaid blouse. A
pair of gigantic black-framed glasses perch on her nose.

“I didn’t know
you needed glasses,” I say. It’s another change, albeit a small one—just
another thing I don’t know about the new Anna.

“I don’t. I just
think they look cool,” she admits. “Are you ready for this?”

No.

“Let’s go.” I
step into the revolving door.

We bypass the
first floor computer lab and enter the café. There’s a long line of students
waiting to place pastry, coffee and Red Bull orders. Many of the round red and
orange tables have been claimed. Against the back wall three tables are pushed
together to seat a group of ten. As we creep closer, we read the tent sign that
has been placed on the center table: History 201 World Myths and Legends.

“That’s him,
isn’t it?” Anna whispers to me, although we’re still far enough away that no
one would hear her anyway. “The guy with the longish hair whose back is turned?
It seems like it could be him, but I need to see his face. We’re going to have
to join them.”

I nod
reluctantly and shadow her purposeful stride up to the group, which I now see
consists mostly of girls dressed for date night rather than office hours.
There’s also a sprinkling of hipsters, the dominant stereotype in the school of
humanities. A few people notice our approach and nod or wave in our direction,
which prompts Jasper to stop talking and turn around.

My heart
jackhammers in my chest.

“Welcome,
ladies,” he says, gesturing to two empty seats on the side opposite him. “We
were just discussing the structure of the course.”

No
sign of recognition crosses his face. My heart rate slows to a quieter but
still insistent knock. I don’t look over at Anna because I’m afraid my face
will give everything away, but now that I’m so close to him I know for sure
it’s him. He’s wearing a suit without a tie; instead, the first few buttons of
his white shirt are undone, giving him an air of carefree elegance.

“You
may introduce yourselves if you like,” he continues. “You know—name, major,
hometown.”

Hometown? I wish
I had been there for
his
answer.

“Anna Wallace.”
Ann gives a little wave. “I’m a junior music education major, and I’m from
Laurel, which is about an hour outside of the city.”

“Welcome, Anna,”
Jasper says, and then his dark eyes turn to me. Yes, those are the same eyes
that penetrated right into my soul that night in the woods. But he looks at me
like I’m just another student.

“Hi. Siobhan
Elliot. I’m a junior biology major. And I’m also from Laurel.” It comes out
bubbly, not anxious. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

“And welcome,
Siobhan. So, what was I saying before?” Jasper asks to no one in particular.
“Ah, yes. So, we’re covering Sumerian mythology first. Throughout the course
we’ll be learning about these stories and legends in the context of the beliefs
held during that time period, the customs practiced, conflicts, ways of life
etcetera…”

I can feel my
phone vibrating in the depths of my purse. I take it out in what I hope is an
inconspicuous way and glance down at the screen.

It’s def. him,
Anna’s texted
me. I give a slight nod while keeping my attention on the conversation.

“We’ll also be
doing some interpretation and analyses of specific stories, which the English
majors in the class might enjoy.” He smiles at the girl sitting to my right.
The gold ring in her lower lip flashes as she gapes at him, her returning stare
brimming with disbelief, like Ryan Gosling has just asked her for her phone
number. Anna and I seem to be the only girls there not following his every move
with eager eyes or hanging on his every word. He
is
an incredibly
attractive man, but just like I sensed in the woods six years ago, there’s
something sinister about him. His smile is just about as charming as a wolf’s.

“As
Dr. Mars explained in class, you’ll be asked to write three papers throughout
the course, each focusing on a different civilization and myth of your choice.”

There are a few
nods and murmurs of acknowledgment around the table. “What’s your favorite
ancient culture, Jasper?” Lip Ring finally manages to ask, rather breathlessly.
“What’s your favorite myth?”

“I enjoy Greek
mythology the most,” Jasper replies. “My favorite is the story of Eros and
Psyche.”

“Why’s that?”
the only guy who showed up to office hours asks. He’s on the end and cranes his
head around the girl sitting next to him so Jasper sees him. The disdainful
glance he gives the rest of the table suggests he actually came for the extra
help, not the eye candy. “It’s just a stupid love story.”

“Just because it
has elements of romance doesn’t make it ‘stupid,’” Jasper counters smoothly. “I
think that the love stories of the gods are great examples of early guilty pleasure
entertainment. And their love for each other was the most desperate and
consuming of all.”

“So what
is
the story?” Anna wonders, looking around the group as if she’s missing
something.

“Well, Psyche
was a beautiful mortal who attracted the ire of Aphrodite—the goddess of love
and beauty, as I’m sure you know. Aphrodite was insanely jealous of Psyche’s
beauty and sent her son Eros to make Psyche fall in love with an ugly beast.
Eros fell in love with her instead.

“By day, Eros
made himself known to Psyche only as a honeyed, seductive voice. At night they
made love, Eros camouflaged in darkness, still never revealing his face. Even
so, she ran away with him to Olympus without protest.” Every eye is transfixed
on him as if under a spell. Even Anna and I have grown subdued, enraptured.
This is the sexiest history lesson I’ve ever had.

“Although she
loved Eros, Psyche missed her family terribly, so he invited them to visit his
palace. Just like Aphrodite, they were always jealous of Psyche’s natural beauty
and now even more so of her grand new home. They said her dark prince was
really a hideous monster and convinced her to spy on Eros. That night Psyche
found his secret bedchamber, but when she held her lantern up to his face, she
saw not a monster, but the face of a handsome, glorious god. Eros considered
this a betrayal of trust and banished her from Olympus, leaving her to wander
the Earth, desperately searching for him.”

When he
hesitates, disrupting the flow of his tale with a dramatic pause, I blink a few
times and emerge from my trance. I realize he’s looking at me, and only at me.
His eyes glisten like pools of water under a night sky, but otherwise his
expression is hard to read. He finishes the story, never once breaking eye
contact with me.

“Eventually,
Psyche asks Aphrodite for help, and she successfully completes a series of
difficult tasks. Her reward is immortality, and she and Eros reunite and
marry.”

“Aw! I think
that’s romantic!” Lip Ring cries.

He finally
diverts his gaze away from me. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I don’t think
it’s romantic.” I sound a little more disgusted than I had intended to.
Jasper’s head snaps up again.

“Why’s that?” he
asks. Annoyance simmers just beneath his even, casual tone.

“She went
through all of that hardship to get a guy who
abandoned
her back? That’s
really unfair.”

“She betrayed
him.”

“Because she
wanted to find out who the man she loved really was? Okay, so maybe he
was
angry. He could have gotten over it. Leaving her just seems petty and cruel.” I
can’t even believe I’m saying this. Yesterday morning I was cowering in my
seat, the mere sight of Jasper unraveling me. Now I’m sitting here arguing with
him. My heart rate picks up again, giving a few raps of warning, but it’s not
enough to stop the word vomit. “And he would only come to her as a disembodied
voice? Why? Didn’t anyone ever tell him that’s creepy?”

“Maybe he just
wanted someone to love him, for
him
,” Jasper snaps, grinding his teeth.
His retort startles me and my peers into silence, the atmosphere over the table
thickening like a storm cloud. Jasper’s eyes sweep the table. They’re wide as
though he’s just realized his outburst. He clears his throat to collect
himself. “I guess I never thought about it that way,” he concedes, his tone soft,
slow and thoughtful this time. “So…would anyone else like to share a favorite
myth?”