Wildalone (39 page)

OUTSIDE, IT LOOKED LIKE IT
was raining, but the drops were actually snow. Still two days away, December threatened everything with winter, with defeat, and even though the night wasn't cold, the air smelled of charcoal solitude.

I walked through the deserted campus. Everyone who wasn't at the eating clubs had opted for the safe cocoon of dorms and libraries. An engine whistled, high above the trees—the way to Forbes passed by the local train station, the “Dinky,” whose platform snuggled under a heavy, dark-beam roof as if you were stepping into some mystical time voyage tunnel.

The train hadn't arrived yet. There was no one around; a few dim lights drew several parked bicycles and two wooden benches out of the darkness that hid everything else. I tried to walk by faster, but a silhouette detached itself from one of the iron pillars and headed my way.

Jake. Out of nowhere, as always.

“You? On a train?” Why was I surprised? If he had been out drinking, the motorcycle and the Range Rover were no longer options. Still, not a whiff of alcohol came from him. He looked pale, as if he hadn't slept for days.

“I wanted to talk to you. Should have tried calling first, but wasn't sure if . . . I thought you wouldn't take my calls.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You have to see him, Thea.”

“Him?” It took me a moment to realize this was not about me and Jake. “So that's the plan now? You try to clean up your brother's mess?”

The train rolled into the station, lugging its cars along the rails with deafening huffs and screeches. A few people came out, walked by us, and scattered away.

“You'll miss your train.” The words didn't seem to register. “Jake, your train. It's about to leave.”

“I'm not getting on a train.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I was hoping to catch you on your way back to Forbes.”

The devoted Jake. Ready to track me down, wait for me, stay outside for hours if he had to—so long as it could benefit Rhys.

“Well then. Now that you've ‘caught' me, I'll make it easy for you: the next time you get an urge to do your brother favors involving me, don't bother leaving your dorm room.”

“I'm actually staying at the house for now.”

“Sure. Male bonding?” As if I cared where he chose to live.

“Having me around makes it easier.”

“
It
being what?”

“My brother is devastated, Thea.”

The laughter burst out; I couldn't help it. “Sorry, that's very hard to believe.”

“Because you don't know Rhys.”

And you think you do?
But I didn't say it. There was no point in shaking his blind loyalty.

“By the way, doesn't your devastated brother have enough of an entourage to make it easier?”

“Rhys has refused to see anyone all week. He's not himself without you.”

“And that worries you?”

The question took him aback. “Of course it does.”

“Then why don't you teach him how to be fine without me? You seem to be doing it quite well.”

Another roll of thunder. The train had taken off and promptly vanished in the distance.

“Talk to Rhys, please. There are things about my brother that I'm sure you would—”

“Your brother is a liar, Jake. And not just that. He is cruel and selfish. I saw him having sex with another girl, right in front of me, and he wouldn't even stop. So I have no intention—none whatsoever—of talking to him ever again.”

“Even if this wasn't exactly what you think you saw?”

“Not exactly? Then what was it, his double? Are there three of you now—the sex maniac, the elusive ghost, and the exonerated hero?”

He shook his head. “You have it all backward.”

“No, backward would be if Rhys caught
me
having sex and then my sister, out of the goodness of her heart, decided to arrange a reconciliation for us. Except I don't sleep around and Elza happens to be dead, so . . . bummer. Otherwise she might have been quite convincing, don't you think, with her—I believe you called it unmatched—beauty?”

“Me? What are you talking about?”

“About Elza. She's the real reason you came to my first concert, isn't she? And with a white rose, no less!” I could see the fret in his eyes, more eloquent than any answer. “Nothing wrong with that; I take your undying adoration of her as a compliment. Too bad I couldn't live up to it, though, right?”

“Thea, what's gotten into you?”

“Your butler gave me a photo last Saturday. There was a dedication on the back:
To the most beautiful girl in the world.
And a heart made up of the musical clefs. Very clever.”

“First of all, I was only twelve back then. I had no idea what I was doing. And yes, I wrote that thing, but . . .”

“But what?”

“It was a world in which you didn't exist.”

“Now I do exist, Jake.”

We stood there, looking at each other, as if an invisible wall had come between us.

“My hands are tied; you know this. Rhys is my brother, which makes me a brother to you. You have to help me try.”

As I walked away, I caught one last glimpse of him. He slid down on the nearest bench and remained there. Leaning back. Motionless. Face turned up toward the heavy platform roof—a grid of beams that could have been sky.

“SORRY, ARE YOU SLEEPING?”
I really meant
Are you crying?
—Rita's face was all puffed up, with swollen eyes and a red nose—but I didn't want her to feel ambushed. “We missed you on the Street tonight.”

“How was it? Any awkward encounters?”

“Well . . . Dev was there, with a few guys. Dead drunk. Didn't seem too happy.”

“Tesh, I was actually asking about Rhys.”

I stood by the door, unsure how to respond.

“Let's lie on the floor, it's cozier.” She dropped a few pillows on the fluffy woolen rug (her one decor quirk; she claimed to have skinned Chewbacca). “Not that I want you to be running into Rhys or anything.”

“No, me neither. By the way, you own some very strange objects.” I pointed to what looked like a magnified powder brush, propped on its handle in the middle of the floor.

“Do you like it? It's a lamp.” She pressed a button, and a blue luminescent cloud engulfed the spray of hair-thin tubes. “Fiber optics: light conducted by glass. I'll be writing my thesis on this next year. Imagine a fiber capable of transmitting three months of HD video in a single second!”

I loved listening to her talk about things I understood only vaguely. Jake had done it too, in that telescope room under the dome of stars.

She frowned and turned the lamp off. “I really should throw this thing in the garbage.”

“Why? It's beautiful!”

“Yes, except it also happens to be a gift.”

“From Dev?” It had to be, given how upset she looked all of a sudden. “What's going on between the two of you?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it does. Especially if you spend your evenings on a dorm room floor, with your phone turned off and staring at fiber optics. Please tell me what's wrong.”

“Dev and I . . . we had an issue with New Year's. He's going home and supposedly wanted to invite me, but his family would have been outraged.”

“What's their problem?”

“That I'm not Indian. Technically, the problem isn't theirs, since he never bothered to mention he was seeing someone. So I told him to take a hike. Now he can go find himself a proper Hindu princess, just in time for the holidays.”

“Maybe he'll change his mind.”

“He won't. The guy is a total sucker for what others think of him. And even if he did, I refuse to sit around while he does his soul searching.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Luckily, you don't. Yours is a different kind of beast.”

My “beast” was exactly the same: indecisive, paralyzed by family duty. I realized how much I needed to talk to someone. Besides, Rita and I were finally connecting as friends instead of one mentoring the other—so I told her everything. My crush on Jake. How I had mistaken Rhys for him. And how, ever since, he had been stepping aside, leaving me to his brother.

She stayed quiet for a while, then shook her head. “That's incredible! You know I'm not a fan of those two. And I hate to defend either of them, especially after the Ivy episode last week. But I have to ask: What on earth were you thinking?”

“Me?”

“You, yes. First you choose Rhys over him, then the two of you proceed to have this super-intense romantic affair in every house they own on the East Coast. And now you expect Jake to go after you and try to win you away from his own brother? I mean, come on, Tesh, what planet are you from?”

I listened to her, amazed that she would say these things. And afraid that she might be right.

“Frankly, I'm starting to like this Jake guy. To still purr at your feet after all this? Oh, and Tesh, if you're really
that
into him, do something about it. Don't be a wimp like . . . like everybody else. Otherwise some other girl will be spending New Year's with your man, as simple as that.”

I left her room and looked at my watch. Past midnight. No way to do anything without breaking social norms.

But none of that mattered. All I wanted was to see him. And Rita was right: I had waited long enough.

HE PICKED UP AFTER THE
first ring: “Thea?”

“I want to see you.”

“You just saw me. Has anything happened?”

“No, but I do.”

“It's almost one o'clock . . .”

“What difference does it make?”

Silence.

“I want to see you.”

“Okay, I'm coming over.”

It took him only minutes to drive to Forbes. He entered my room but stayed by the door—as far from me as possible.

“Thanks for getting here so quickly.” I had no idea what to say to him. How to make up for months of mistakes. Where to even start. “You don't want to take off your jacket?”

The jacket stayed on. “Thea, what is it?”

I want to be with you, I've been wanting it for so long.
Saying it to him had seemed possible, earlier, when I wasn't yet in his presence.

“Sorry, that was rude of me.” He slipped the jacket off and folded it over the back of the chair, then came nearer. “What's wrong?”

“Jake, I . . .” Our chests almost touched. His shirt was so close, his warmth so palpable under it. “I'm not going back to Rhys.”

“We can talk about it again, if you want. But you have to see him.”

“I have nothing to say to him.”

“That might change, once you give him a chance to explain.”

“I don't want his explanations. He's not the one I should be with.”

I had finally said it. A hot flush went through me, my face was probably all red—but I didn't care. My fingers slipped under his shirt, over his stomach—

His hands, much stronger than mine even when they hesitated, closed around my wrists and slowly pushed them away. “I would do anything for you. Anything. But don't ask me to betray my brother.”

“How are you betraying him? Rhys and I aren't even together.”

“That's for the two of you to decide.” He reached for his jacket. Then the door.

“Jake—” I was now frantic for a way to stop him. “Fine. If you insist, I'll see him.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. “You will?”

“First thing tomorrow. On one condition.”

The question smoldered behind the alert blue of his eyes. But this calm was a mask. It had to be.

“Kiss me.”
And don't you dare walk out that door, or I'll never speak to you again.
“Not on the cheek, like you almost did once. Really kiss me.”

I saw the anger erupt, a dark wave of alarm and pain. Transforming his face. Aging it. He dropped the jacket down. Walked across the room—just a couple of steps, carefully. Stopped in front of me and reached for my face: no hesitation this time, the inevitable had started happening. His beautiful fingers took my chin, lifted my mouth up toward his until we felt each other's breath, then closer, his own lips opening—

I had imagined it so many times, but he erased everything. No one had kissed me before him. No one had touched me, or looked at me, or known that I existed. I began and ended there. He found me. Tasted me. Lost himself in me, as if I was the universe. His lips gave in to mine completely, dissolving me with their warmth, their softness, their incredible way of letting me know they had waited for me always.

I lifted his arms, pulled his shirt off. He left his body to me—its unbelievably smooth skin; the fine hairs on his chest and down his stomach line; the freckles, scattered like shy constellations all over him.

I stood on tiptoes, so my lips could reach his ear. “Take off my clothes.”

He breathed faster as he opened my shirt—taking in every inch of skin that was baring itself for him under his fingers—and slipped it off my shoulders, down to my elbows, and then, with one final pull, made it fall to the floor.

“All of them.”

I wanted him to hold me naked—completely naked—in his arms. He unzipped my skirt. Pushed it down my legs. Then started kissing me all over, burying his mouth in me until I could no longer breathe.

I moved his hand back to my hips, to the only piece of clothing he hadn't dared to remove from me: “Everything.”

I didn't want to tell him that he would be the first. Just to let him feel it,
if it could be felt, once he was inside me. My fingers found his jeans. Unbuttoned them—

“We can't, not like this.” His hands became violent, pushing me away again. “Not until I know what happens tomorrow.”

“Nothing will happen tomorrow. Rhys and I are done.”