Reborn (4 page)

A few people
jump in with their favorite stories, although none of them captivate the group
like Jasper did. Closer to eight, Anna whispers to me, “Do you want to talk
after this? We can go to my place. I’ll give you a ride back later.”

“Um, sure,” I
mumble back.

Scattered “thank
you’s” and squeaking chairs make me realize that everybody is getting ready to
leave.

“I’m going to
get some tea,” Anna tells me. I nod and wait for her at the table. I think that
everyone has left until I look up and see Jasper Hart standing up but lingering
by the table.

I smile up at
him. “Thanks for your help tonight,” I say to fill the silence. “I hope you
didn’t mind the little debate.”

“Not at all. I
hope you bring that spirit with you to class,” he insists. His uncertain frown,
however, suggests he’s hoping I keep my mouth shut. “You and Anna are looking
well.” He winks at me and then turns on his heel and walks briskly away before I
can come up with something to say.

“Ready to go?”
Anna asks me, jiggling her car keys in one hand, her paper cup of tea in the
other. I’m still staring, dumbfounded, at the spot Jasper has just vacated.

Chapter 5

“He
remembers us,” I whisper.

“What?”
Anna says, sitting down again beside me.

“Just
now, before he left, he said, ‘You and Anna are looking well.’”

Anna’s
hazel eyes grow wide. “That’s really creepy. Who the hell
is
this guy?”

I
shake my head. “Well, let’s go.” We leave the library, and then walk across
campus to the parking garage to get her pickup.

Consumed
by our own thoughts, we sit in silence on the drive to the house she shares
with her brother and his band mates. It’s an older-looking, two-story house in
a residential area where a lot of students rent. All of the houses are similar
in structure with concrete porches and off-white siding. The streetlights are
dim, and the street is quiet. It feels a little sketchy, but it’s fairly close
to campus so I imagine it can’t be that bad.

Anna
pulls into the driveway and turns the car off. We get out, and I follow her
inside. She flips on the living room light and drops her purse and keys on the
dark wood table next to the door. We walk through the living room to get to the
kitchen. The plush, faded orange couch, brown coffee table and old TV are
familiar—they all came from the Wallaces’ family room in the basement. Their
old green card table and fold out chairs are in the kitchen.

“I
made chocolate chip cookies last night,” Anna says. “I hope the boys didn’t eat
them all yet.” Their fridge is almost empty except for a carton of milk, eggs,
a half of a loaf of bread and a six-pack of beer, so it doesn’t take her long
to emerge victorious with a plastic container still stuffed with cookies.

“Milk?”

I
nod, so she pours me a glass and opens the cookies on the table.

“Is
Jimmy here?” I ask casually though a mouthful of cookie.

“No.
I think they have a gig tonight.” She studies me over her tea.

“Are
you still in love with him?” she asks me.

“What?”
A few crumbs spray out of my mouth. “With who?”

She
gives me a knowing look. “Jim. Are you still in love with my brother?”

“Was
I
ever
in love with your brother?” When I realize how cold I sound, I
continue, “You guys were my best friends. I cared about both of you, a lot.” I
still do.

“Cut
the crap, Siobhan. I know how you felt about him in high school,” Anna says.
“That’s why I was so angry at you when you humiliated him like you did. I mean,
it would have pissed me off anyway, but I was even angrier because I didn’t
understand how you could do that to him when you were in love with him.

“And
now, whenever I say his name, you get this look on your face. You probably
don’t realize it.”

“What
look would that be?” She’s only mentioned him a few times, but when she does I
have to fight down the memories that come creeping into the back of my mind,
threatening to flood me again with despair, regret and longing. Does all of
that show on my face?

She
hesitates. “Wistful,” she decides.

I
look down at my half eaten cookie to avoid her prying eyes. “I don’t know,” I
reply softly. “I don’t think so. I think just talking to you again has brought
all of these memories back—some of them are awful, and I wished they’d never
happened. But most of them are happy. I guess I’m just feeling nostalgic.”

And
with that realization, I let memories of high school seep into my mind,
memories of everything that went wrong after the bonfire, after our encounter
with Jasper Hart.

***

It
was a few Saturdays later when I wandered over to the Wallaces’ to wait for
Anna to get home so that we could go to the mall. Although Anna wasn’t back
from the eye doctor yet, Jimmy was supposed to be home, so I rang their
doorbell and waited. When I heard what sounded like the shriek of microphone
feedback through a speaker, I realized he must be getting ready to practice in
their garage. I went around the side of the house to the backyard, trampling
brown grass and fallen leaves.

The
front door to the garage was open. I could hear Jimmy shuffling around inside,
adjusting the speakers then strumming a few chords on his electric guitar. I
paused under the fading green-to-gold leaves of their maple tree, nervous about
going inside. The three of us had been inseparable when we were kids, all the
way through middle school. Now it was usually just me and Anna. I couldn’t
remember the last time Jimmy and I had hung out without her.

It
didn’t help that I had a huge crush on him. I knew that Jimmy and I would never
happen. He was just nice to me because I was his sister’s friend, but I knew
what
his
friends thought of me and the other cheerleaders. We were
ditzy. Shallow. And most of the squad thought Jimmy and his friends were
losers. It was all so stupid. Anna and I stayed out of it. No walls for me. I
liked everyone.

Jimmy
was absorbed in playing and singing when I finally got the guts to walk the
rest of the way to the garage. This time I lingered in the doorway so I
wouldn’t interrupt him, but where he could see me if he looked up. I had no idea
what song he was playing—probably something profound and influential from the
seventies. I loved listening to his soulful baritone voice. I closed my eyes
and got so lost in it that I didn’t realize when he stopped playing.

“Siobhan,”
Jimmy said in a tone that told me he had been trying to get my attention. My
eyes flew open to find him still cradling his guitar and chuckling. Usually,
his lips were set in a stubborn but sort of endearing pout, but now he was
treating me to a rare, full-blown smile. He was wearing jeans and a white
t-shirt. Back then his brown hair was long, down to his shoulders, and fell
into his hazel eyes. I thought he was so cool.

“That
was
amazing
,” I exclaimed as though that hadn’t just been the most
awkward moment ever. “What song was that?”

He
probably thought I was clueless, but he answered me anyway. “‘Comfortably
Numb.’ It’s a Pink Floyd song.”

I
had no idea who Pink Floyd was, but I didn’t admit that. After another
uncomfortable silence, I said, “I’m just waiting for Anna to get back. We’re
going shopping.”

Jimmy
nodded, lifted the guitar strap over his shoulder and set the guitar on its
stand. “Let’s go inside.” He cocked his head in the direction of the house. “I
can get you something to drink.”

“We
have,” Jimmy said, peering into their refrigerator a minute later, “Coke, iced
tea, milk and beer,” he added, turning and winking at me.

I
gave a short laugh. “An iced tea sounds great.” He handed me a can and got one
for himself, and we headed downstairs to the basement.

I
can’t remember how it started, but somehow we got a conversation flowing. Soon
we were talking and laughing like we were thirteen again, like nothing had ever
changed. We sunk lower and lower into the orange plush couch while keeping to
our respective sides. During a lull in the conversation, I blurted out, “So, do
you have a girlfriend?”

I
already figured he didn’t. Our high school was small, and my friends and I
always made it our business to know who was going out. So I wasn’t surprised
when he shook his head no.

“What
about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked me. “I bet you do—it’s one of
those gorillas on the football team.”

I
threw one of the ugly orange pillows at him, but I was laughing. “No. I’m not
dating any of the ‘gorillas’ on the football team, or anybody else for that
matter.”

Jimmy
raised his eyebrows. “That’s hard to believe. What about Anna Banana?” he
continued. “Does she have a secret
beau
I don’t know about? I’ll kick
his ass.”

“Beau?”
I repeated, still giggling. “Who says that? Do you belong to some secret yacht
club I don’t know about?” I teased. “And why is it hard to believe I don’t have
a boyfriend—I’m sorry, a
beau
?”

Jimmy’s
laughter subsided at my question, and he regarded me uncertainly. “Seriously?
You’re beautiful, Siobhan,” he said, suddenly serious, “and you’re a really
good person.”

“Oh,”
I mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. “Well, thanks. That’s one of the nicest
things anyone has ever said to me.” Any
boy
.

“Do
you like anyone?” Just as abruptly, he was back to being silly. He rested his
chin on his fist, leaned in closer to me and persisted in a shrill voice, “Come
on, Siobhan. Spill the beans.”

 I
put my face in my hands and groaned. “Oh, my God, this is
really
what
you think girls act like.”  He batted his eyelashes at me in response.

“There
is
someone I like,” I finally admitted, uncovering my face, “but I know
he doesn’t like me back.”

“
Who
?
How do
you
know he doesn’t like you back?”

I
sighed. His kidding around was starting to grind on my nerves. “Because he’s
smart, and talented, and has a band,” I said through gritted teeth, “and to him
I’m probably just a stupid cheerleader.” I got up from the couch and stomped
over to the stairs.

“Siobhan,
wait!” he called after me. I felt his hand on my arm and turned around
reluctantly.

“What?”
My face was probably tomato red. I pursed my lips to hold back the embarrassed
tears collecting in my eyes.

Jimmy
just stared at me for a few seconds. Then, he took my face in his hands and
leaned down to kiss me.

During
the next few weeks after our first kiss, Jimmy and I kissed some more.
A lot
more. On my couch when my parents were out having a date night. On the couch in
his basement when his parents were out and Anna was babysitting next door.
Under the bleachers before he had marching band practice and I had cheering
practice. Somehow we managed to keep our relationship a secret. I don’t know
why we snuck around. Anna would have been happy for us. I think we both thought
the other didn’t want anyone to know. I want to believe I didn’t care what my
other friends thought, but maybe a small part of me did.

Despite
the sneaking around, it was perfect. Jimmy had asked me to Homecoming, so it
wouldn’t have been a secret for much longer, anyway. Until that Friday night
when Jimmy and I were alone again in his basement and everything changed.

With
me on my back, my head crushed into one of the couch pillows, Jimmy was
stretched out beside me and slightly over me, his lips eagerly exploring mine.
He pulled me closer to him, lightly skimming his fingers up and down my body.
His hand paused on my inner thigh, close to where I was already warm with
anticipation for something I had yet to experience.

“Is
this okay?” he mumbled against my lips as he massaged slow circles between my thighs.

“Yes,”
I gasped. Waves of heat and excitement rolled over me.

After
carefully unzipping my jeans, his hand dipped underneath them, underneath my
underwear. God, his fingers felt good there. I thought I was going to dissolve
into the couch. But as his hand brought me closer and closer to the brink, I
felt a familiar burning somewhere else.

I
guess it’s a good thing I had already discovered my wings—the curse from my
Dark Angel. After that first time in the woods, they exploded out of my back
again during a nightmare. The pain coupled with my own screaming woke me up,
and my parents. Even in the few seconds it took for them to rush to my bedside,
the wings were already reabsorbed. I burrowed under the sheets to hide the
sweaty flannel strips of my nightshirt from them. Another time my history
teacher made fun of an answer “someone” had put on our exam in front of the
entire class. I bolted from the classroom, tears streaking down my face, and
dove into one of the stalls in the girls’ restroom. I had just enough time to
yank my pretty pink lace top over my head before they erupted. Later I got
detention for disrupting class.

So
I knew that they responded to intense fear and humiliation, but not arousal.
The itching at my back distracted me from the pleasurable exploration of
Jimmy’s hand.

“Jimmy,
stop,” I panted, shrinking from his touch.

He
withdrew his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I
just need a minute.” I got up and raced for the basement bathroom. I locked the
door, pulled my top over my head and unsnapped my bra. A second later they
burst out of my back, smacking against the walls of the small bathroom. One of
them toppled a glass candle holder on the shelf above the sink. It shattered on
the floor.

“What’s
going on in there?” I heard Jimmy ask through the door. He tried the doorknob.
“What…Siobhan, what are you doing in there?”

“Just
give me a second!” I shouted. I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself,
trying to forget my desire for him. The velvety wings retracted. I put my bra
and my shirt back on, unlocked and opened the door. Jimmy stood just outside of
it, his fist poised to knock again.

“I
have to go,” I blurted and swerved around him to get to the stairs.

“What
the hell! What were you doing in there?” He followed close behind me all the way
upstairs. “If you wanted me to stop, you should have said something earlier.”