Sempre (Forever) (51 page)

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Authors: JM Darhower

BOOK: Sempre (Forever)
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“Have a seat,” Dia said, motioning toward a chair in front of a desk. Haven sat on the edge of it and glanced around at Dia’s belongings, fighting off the urge to clean up for her. “So, are you excited?”

“Of course I am,” Haven said, although her anxiety was starting to overshadow her excitement.

Dia eyed Haven peculiarly as she started fiddling with her hair, running her fingers through the wild locks. “Nervous, huh?”

She sighed. “How can you tell?”

“Your answer sounded way too rehearsed to be genuine.”

“I am excited,” she said. “I’ve just never been to a dance before.”

“Me, either,” Dia said. “The only reason I’m going to this one is because I have to cover it for the yearbook. Otherwise, I’d stay home.”

“You don’t have a date?”

She shook her head. “I’d probably give the administration an aneurism if I brought someone with me.”

“Why?”

Dia looked at her with surprise. “Not everyone is accepting.”

“Why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I’m not really into boys,” Dia said, treading carefully with her words. “No one’s told you that?”

“Well, Carmine said he didn’t have the right equipment for you,” she said, turning bright red the moment it sunk in what he’d meant. “Oh, he means—”

“No dick for Dia!”

Haven glanced at the doorway as the voice interrupted her and watched Tess stroll into the room. She tossed a garment bag on her bed and unzipped it, exposing a blood red dress.

Dia rolled her eyes. “So classy.”

“Hey, I’m just speaking the truth,” Tess said, pulling off her shirt. Haven gaped at her as she stripped out of her clothes. Tess noticed her expression and laughed, standing in front of her in a bra and panties. “Don’t be so shocked. I’m not ashamed.”

Dia laughed. “She’s certainly not modest, either.”

Tess shrugged, not arguing against that. She shimmied into her dress before grabbing a pair of high heels from the closet and slipping them on her feet. Strolling over to her dresser, she gazed at her reflection in the vanity mirror and smoothed her hair before applying some red lipstick. She did it so casually, so quickly, and Haven watched her with admiration.

Dia continued to play around with her hair, yanking and tugging it in every which way, but Haven had no idea what she was trying to do. The same thought seemed to run through Tess’s mind because she turned around, groaning. “Dia, what are you doing to the poor girl’s head?”

“I’m trying to French braid it.”

“French braid? What is she, twelve? It’s prom.”

Tess grabbed a flat iron and bumped her sister out of the way as she plugged it in. Shrugging, Dia plopped down on the bed as Tess undid the sloppy braid. Once the flat iron was warm, she straightened Haven’s hair, smoothing the waves that had never before been so tame. Tess pulled the top half back, securing it with a clip, before unplugging the flat iron and going back to her side of the room.

Dia showed Haven to the bathroom to put on her dress. Haven slipped into it and glanced in the mirror, not recognizing the girl staring back. Her hair was bone straight and shined under the glow of the light. The dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her newfound curves.

Curves
. She pinched her hips with awe, wondering where they’d come from and how she hadn’t noticed them before.

She headed back to their bedroom after a moment, pausing near the doorway. Tess was gazing in her mirror again, applying yet another coat of lipstick, while Dia slipped on a pair of black combat boots.

“Don’t you have to get dressed too?” Haven asked Dia as she dropped a pair of gold flats in front of her.

“I am dressed.”

Haven put on the shoes as she surveyed Dia’s clothes. She had on a black skirt and a vibrant blue tank top with rainbow striped tights. “You are?”

“She is,” Tess said. “To Dia, that’s dressed up.”

 

*  *  *  *

 

The hairs on the back of Haven’s neck stood on end the moment she stepped into the grocery store alone. The feeling of being watched was overwhelming. Self-consciously, she put her head down and walked swiftly to the soda aisle. Bending down to grab a 12-pack of Coke for Carmine, her skin prickled as she felt a presence approaching.

“What do you call cheese that doesn’t belong to you?”

She sighed. “I’m not sure, Nicholas.”

She picked up the soda and turned to face him, stunned to see he was wearing a black suit. It was the first time she’d seen him without his flip flops and baseball cap.

“Nacho Cheese,” he said, grinning. “Get it, Nacho, not yo’? Not yo’ cheese, since it isn’t yours?”

The moment it clicked, she shook her head. “That’s cheesy.”

He laughed at her attempt at humor. “Not only is she beautiful, but she’s funny too. My kind of girl.”

She blushed. “Thank you. I see you’re dressed up.”

“Of course I am. It’s prom.”

“You’re going to the dance? You don’t go to school here, do you?”

“No, but neither do you. I assume you don’t look like a beauty queen right now just for the heck of it.”

“But I have someone to go with.”

He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, well, so do I.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I may not be a pretty boy like Carmine, but I can still pull my fair share of ladies,” he said. “Speaking of your boyfriend…”

“Don’t start.”

He held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I was just going to say I’m surprised he’s letting you out in public by yourself.”

“Why wouldn’t he? I can go to a store alone.”

“Can you?” The seriousness to his voice sent the nerves inside of her flaring. Could she? Considering this was her first time doing it, she had a hard time answering ‘yes’.

“Sure,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. There was no way he could know the truth. Carmine would’ve warned her if someone knew.

“That’s nice,” he said. “You know, you have a fascinating accent.”

She was taken aback by the shift in conversation. “I have an accent? I think you do.”

He laughed. “I sound like everyone else around here, but I’ve never heard an accent like yours. Where did you grow up?”

“California.”

“What parts?”

She hesitated. “The desert.”

He nodded. “No wonder I’ve never heard it. You’re the first native-Californian I’ve met. You were born there, right?”

She nodded, his line of questioning baffling her.

He smiled. “Well, Haven, since I was wrong and you can go out by yourself, you should come visit me some time.”

Her eyes narrowed at the invitation. “Why are you interested?”

“You seem like a nice girl,” he said. “There’s no harm in us being friends, right?”

“Do you want to be friends because you want to get to know me, or do you want to be friends because you know it’ll upset Carmine? Because I can’t be friends with someone who wants to hurt him.”

She spouted off the words, not even comprehending what she was saying until it was already past her lips and lingering in the air between them.

“I’m not that petty of a person,” he said.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You’d just have to trust me.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t just trust people.”

“But you trust him?”

“I do,” she said, "and nothing you say will change that.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean you can’t trust me, too.”

She stared at him. Could she trust him? “I should go.”

She started walking away, pausing briefly when he called out to her. “Haven? You really do look beautiful. Carmine may be an asshole, but he’s a lucky asshole.”

She smiled. “Thank you, but I think I’m the lucky one.”

 

*  *  *  *

 

After paying for the soda, Haven drove back to the DeMarco’s house to find a shiny sports car parked out front. She eyed it peculiarly, having never seen it before. Opening the front door of the house, she was about to call out to Carmine to ask who it belonged to when there was a bang in the kitchen.

“What fucking took you so long?”

She sighed, not bothering with an answer. If he was in a bad mood, nothing she could say would change it.

She paused in the doorway to the kitchen, stunned at the sight of him. He had on a black suit with a blue tie and a pair of black Nike’s that matched.

Carmine turned to her and froze, his eyes instantly raking down her body. He hadn’t seen her dress until then, just knew it was blue. Haven set the soda on the counter and handed one of the cans of Coke to him. He took it carefully, his eyes never leaving her.

Just standing there, his silence ate away at her. She had no idea what he was thinking.

She went to leave the room, her nerves getting the best of her, but Carmine grabbed her arm to stop her. “You’re breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You look handsome.”

His eyes flickered to her mouth, and he kissed her sweetly. She parted her lips for him to deepen it, but instead he broke the connection. “I don’t wanna mess up the makeup before I can show you off.”

She smiled, trying to ignore the hurt she felt by him pulling away. It had become a common occurrence the past few weeks, a consequence of his recent temperament.

He turned his back to her and filled a glass with ice, opening his can of soda. She walked out after a moment and headed for the family room, sitting down on the couch and folding her hands in her lap to wait. Carmine strolled in after a minute and set his glass down on the table, a plastic container in his other hand. He pulled a blue and gold flower out of it and slipped it on her wrist. “It’s a corsage.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing at it.

The front door to the house opened then, and Dr. DeMarco walked in. “That’s a nice car outside,” he said right away, forgoing any type of greeting.

Carmine sighed. ”Don’t worry—I rented it. I didn’t buy it.”

“Just be careful driving it.”

“It’s kinda late for you to start worrying about my safety.”

“I’ve always worried about your safety,” Dr. DeMarco said. “It’s my number one priority.”

“Well, you could’ve fucking fooled me.”

A tense silence fell over the room. Carmine sighed exasperatedly, walking away.


Rompiballe
,” Dr. DeMarco muttered.

“I heard that,” Carmine yelled from the foyer.

Dominic and Tess showed up a few minutes later, followed by a disgruntled Dia. They all huddled outside to take some pictures. After a few minutes of cameras flashing, Carmine grabbed Haven’s hand and pulled her away. He hesitated at his Mazda, scanning it for damage, before heading toward the sports car. “You like the car?” he asked, unlocking the passenger door. “It’s a Vanquish.”

Haven had no idea what a Vanquish was, but she nodded anyway. “It’s nice.”

“I’ve always wanted one, and you gave me an excuse to borrow it,” he said. “I feel like James Bond driving this motherfucker.”

“James Bond?”

“Yeah, you know—007, the secret agent?” She shook her head, and he sighed. “It’s just a movie. The main character once drove one of these cars.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve never seen it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, motioning for her to get in. She wanted to believe his words, but his frustrated expression told a different story.

 

 

The drive to the restaurant was quiet as Haven’s nerves ran amuck. After about thirty minutes, she couldn’t take the silence anymore and attempted conversation. “This is a really pretty car. You couldn’t get one of these instead of yours?”

He laughed dryly. “This costs six times more than my Mazda. There’s no way my father would fork over a quarter million dollars for a car. The only thing he’d spend that much on is a house.” He paused. “Or you, maybe. Don’t know how much he paid for you.”

His words stung. She blinked a few times, willing herself not to let her hurt show as she turned to stare out the window.

“And I guess it is a ‘pretty’ car, if you can call a car pretty.”

Haven didn’t speak the rest of the drive.

They arrived at the restaurant, and he led her inside where the others were already waiting. Carmine pulled out a chair, motioning for her to sit down, and he took the seat next to her. They ordered and chatted while they ate. Carmine occasionally said something that rubbed her the wrong way, but someone would follow it and lighten things up again. Haven wasn’t fond of this side of Carmine, and it was a part of him she wasn’t well acquainted with.

The waitress came by to make sure they all had everything they needed, her eyes lingering on Carmine longer than necessary. He ignored her like he usually did, but Tess didn’t let it slide when the girl walked away. “She could see your girlfriend sitting right beside you. Doesn’t she have any self-respect?”

Carmine shrugged. “Bitches can’t help it.”

Tess glared at him, his response not what she wanted to hear. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Carmine’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Your attitude, that’s what. It’s a damn shame, too. I almost started liking you there for a while.”

“Yeah, well, I never fucking liked you.”

Haven tensed at the hostility as Dominic hit the table with his fist. “Enough! I don’t know what your problem is, Carmine, but you need to figure it out. I’m
this
close to laying your ass out.”

Carmine glared at his brother. “What have I done?”

“Do you not hear yourself? You’re acting more and more like the old you, and that’s one person I have no desire to be around again.”

“I am not,” Carmine said.

“Yes, you are,” Dominic said. “And I’m telling you now—fix it. Haven deserves better than the way you’ve been treating her lately.”

Haven watched Carmine warily as he stared at his brother. The tension at the table was thick, and she started to panic. “I, uh… I need to go to the restroom.”

She stood up, and Dia jumped to her feet to show her where it was. She breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone and stayed there for a few minutes as she calmed down. There was a tap on the door, and she expected to see Dia still waiting but instead came face-to-face with Carmine.

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