“Yeah, I’m into Gage, but only when I’m with him.” Muzzle, I need a freaking muzzle.
A rather lengthy pause ensues as he ponders the finer points of my confession.
“Goodnight.” He practically dumps me out of his lap. There’s a marked look of sadness on his face, and he stuffs his hands into his jeans pocket and gives a dejected smile before opening the exit door.
“Wait.” I grab him by the arm. “I didn’t mean it like that.” I sort of did, but that’s not the point.
Then what’s the point? A clear look of frustration cuts across his face.
“I hate it when you do that.”
“I’m not doing anything” He removes my hand from his sleeve. “You’re forgetting that I can hear you, just like you’re forgetting about us.” With that he climbs out of the butterfly room.
I hope he hasn’t crawled out of my life completely.
36
Longing
The earth quakes with thunder, explosions of light ricochet through the night. The sky illuminates into a thousand shattered pieces, resembling lavender broken glass.
Gage and I arrive late to the bowling in the dark event because my mother has the habit of turning into a game show host each time he comes over. She pries into his life with the efficiency of an FBI detective while plying him with her questionable cooking and wands me over with her hands like I’m some sort of prize. It’s like she’s trying to extort information out of him while slowly poisoning him.
It’s beyond dark in the bowling alley. I’m not sure why this thrills me, but it does. Hot pink, yellow, and neon green light up the alleyways while the pins glow in varying shades of blue and purple. I love this. Logan should do this every night.
Bitch squad cackles openly at the first table to my left. Michelle ends her laugh with a yawn. I’m shocked to see giant pillow-like bags under her eyes. She looks sallow, sickly even. In a stray show of mercy I want to clue her in on the source of her misery, tell her in one breath who exactly Marshall is and what that black rose dangling from her neck means, but don’t.
Look who’s the bitch now, I muse to myself.
“Crap!” I pull Gage back by the hand. Marshall’s here, laughing with one of the girls who works for Logan. She’s a little more appropriate for him, considering she’s about thirty, but still, why is he constantly injecting himself in the student population? I pause to reflect on the sexual nature of my last thought.
Marshall swoops over before I have a chance to complain to Gage.
“I see you brought your asshole.” He slaps Gage on the shoulder.
“Enough.” Gage holds up a hand.
“I haven’t heard an apology.” Marshall looks sharp tonight in dark jeans, a black button down shirt and some form of cowboy boots tucked under his jeans.
“I’m sorry.” Gage averts his eyes. “I’m genuinely sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me, it looks like Logan needs help. Be right back.”
“Kind isn’t he.” His tone drips with sarcasm.
“He is.” I do a quick sweep of the premises for Brielle.
“How’s the arm?”
“Good as new.” I wiggle my fingers in the air.
“And operation Chloe?”
“Underway. I donated my first unit.”
“To be stored?”
I can’t tell whether or not he’s trying to pump me for information.
“In an undisclosed location. Besides, don’t you know everything?” I ask, irritated.
“I’m not God. And the fact you don’t want to brief me lets me know you don’t trust me. What else can I possibly do to prove myself to you?”
“I need an arm, possibly an eyeball.”
“She’s that bad, is she?” His eyes widen then retract. “At least you’re not looking for a heart, but then Chloe doesn’t need one because she never had one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I didn’t realize he knew Chloe at all.
“She’s a piece of work, that one.” He says looking directly at Michelle, and now I have no clue who he’s talking about. “I’ll give you both the arm and the eye if you kiss me.”
“No.”
“Then no deal.”
“OK, maybe.”
“Say yes and I’ll make her eyes match.”
“Hazel, and OK, but it’s going to be over before you know it.”
“Count, hard left.” He picks up my hand and laces our fingers, natural as breathing.
Hard left. It’s difficult to concentrate with this heavy rush of physical gratification
flowing through my body.
“I swear, if people new how good you could make them feel, you’d be worth millions,” I whisper.
“That should make me all the more desirable to you. Count, four-thirty” He tries to reorient me.
“Which way is four-thirty?” I don’t really care. I’m too immersed in the gentle buzz rippling through my body, indulging in the way it echoes through my bones, fills me with a gentle rushing heat.
Ellis walks up glowing an ethereal shade of blue.
“That one I already know.” Although it still makes me sick.
“Behind him,” Marshall whispers.
Nat and Kate high five over a strike. Their faces look murky to begin with, both an odd shade of purple until they split and go their separate ways. Kate remains a dingy grey and Nat glows blue, crisp as Ellis.
It’s Nat.
Ellis plucks my hand away from Marshall’s and walks me over to a nearby table at a decent clip. I’m so shocked. I can’t drag my eyes off her.
“What’s with Mr. Dick?” He asks setting up the queue. “Wanna play a game?” He smiles up at me, a slow stoned smile that is so signature Ellis I want to cry.
I nod, but I wonder, what kind of game are we really playing?
***
Logan manages to avoid me the better part of the night. Gage ends up helping out until the very end, so I hang out with Ellis, Brielle, and a very-much-in-the-dog-house Drake.
“What’d I do?” Drake hisses while it’s Brielle’s turn to bowl.
“Why don’t you go over and ask your girlfriend?” I nod over in Lexy’s direction.
“I can’t even say two words to someone with functioning ovaries without her freaking out—other than you.” He adds that last bit, disappointed.
“Yeah well, look at the bright side, she’s really into you. People don’t get jealous like that unless they’ve completely lost their minds.”
Logan breezes in and sets down a pitcher of soda and cups.
“You need help?” I offer. “I can help.”
There’s a hard edge about him. He doesn’t bother giving me the polite placid smile I’ve grown accustomed to when we’re in public. Instead an underlying expression of hurt comes through. One he can’t seem to disguise. He doesn’t say a word and heads back to the kitchen.
“Take my turn,” I say to Drake.
I speed over to Logan, catching up with him just before he gets to the makeshift kitchen set up near the register.
“Did you just walk away from me?” My voice spikes.
His eyes narrow in before cutting away to Gage. He grabs Gage by the shirt and pulls him over.
“Your girlfriend’s got something she wants to say.”
I can’t tell whether this is part of the show or if he really means it—probably both.
“You wanna go home?” Gage looks confused.
“No.” I don’t bother taking my eyes off Logan. My heart’s pounding erratically. The music’s so loud, that coupled with the eerie neon colors illuminated against the black backdrop, makes this all feels like a suspended reality. “I wanna talk.” What I really want to do is shake him.
“Talk to your boyfriend.” Logan bolts over to an empty table and starts clearing off stray cups.
I thought I was.
37
I See You
Gage decides to stay late and help Logan lock up, so Ellis offers me a ride. Under no
rmal circumstances, I would stay and wait for Gage, but I know that will only stoke the fire of Logan’s insane jealousy—and a part of me wanted to.
The rain quiets down to a sprinkle, dotting the windshield just enough to annoy us.
“So tell me something about yourself I don’t know,” I say, wondering why the hell I got into the car with someone known for being perpetually high and fully infected with a serious Count bloodline.
“I like all that vampire crap girls are into.” His hand flexes over the wheel.
I can’t tell whether he’s kidding or trying to hit on me, so I don’t say anything.
“So how you like Paragon?” He takes a lazy turn and pulls into the overlook at Devil’s Peak.
“Love it.” I’m not too thrilled at the moment, but…
“Is Chloe Bishop’s house haunted?”
“Yes,” I say matter-of-fact. I’m not sure, but at this point who cares? Truth is, I’m feeling a little haunted myself.
“Cool. I hear you have her room. You see the butterflies?”
“You know about that?” A surge of adrenaline rushes through me.
“I know all about Chloe.” His eyebrows twitch in the dark. “We were like that.” He crosses his fingers.
I want to say, take me home, but it comes out as, “I know who you are.”
“Who am I?” His demeanor shifts. His whole person loosens as a demented grin spreads across his face. I can smell the stench of pot clinging to his upholstery. Ellis Harrison is wasting away his youth by getting wasted. My lips twist at the irony.
“Is that what baby Counts in training do to whittle away the hours? Get stoned?”
A loud clap of a laugh belts from him. He smacks his hand against the steering wheel before attempting to compose himself.
“How’d you figure it out?” He looks jovial as though it were all a part of some game of hide, and seek and I tagged him.
“I just did.” I shrug, trying to play it off. “I’d reveal my source, but then I’d have to kill you—literally.”
“I surrender.” He holds up his hands. “Besides, I like you—a lot.”
“Like me enough to help me?” I don’t know if I can trust Ellis, or anybody else for that matter. “Hey, Brielle’s one too, right?”
“I don’t know. It’s like some secret society with their own version of don’t ask, don’t tell. We have to wait until we hit the age of enlightenment or some bull crap.”
“Oh, us too.”
“So is that why you blew me off? You know, when you first got here?” He asks.
When did I blow Ellis off?
“You ditched me for the twisted Oliver’s. You wouldn’t hang out with me ‘cause I was a Count.” The way he says it you’d think it has racial undertones.
“Do you know what I am?” I put it out there to see what he comes up with. I’m pretty good at detecting lies.
“I hear you’re the purest, most dangerous bad ass Celestra on the whole effing planet.” He lets out a loose string of laughter as his eyes reduce to slits.
“I need to know who all the Counts are. They’re trying to kill me, Ellis.” I feel like shaking that smile off his face. “I need your help.”
He pushes into the headrest, considering it. His mouth opens and he starts in on a word then closes it. He fires up the car up and takes me home, parking just shy of the mailbox at the base of the property.
“I’ll help you under one condition.” He wags a finger in the air breaking the silence. “We take a little light drive.”
***
Ellis is shocked at how willing I am to submit. I take him by the hand, and we fall through time and dimensions until our lids flutter open, and we look around. It’s night. We’re still sitting in his truck with our seatbelts fastened.
“Coo-oo-oo-ool! He slaps the steering wheel each time he draws out the word, for emphasis.
“Where are we? Usually I end up in Chloe’s bed.”
“Sweet, next time I’ll let you navigate.”
“Wait, you know how to do this?”
“I’ve gone a time or two.” He plucks the keys from the ignition. “Come on. It’s my favorite night—homecoming.”
It’s dark. The air is damp, the cheer of the crowd almost deafening. We haven’t had a great showing these past few weeks with all the rain we’ve been having, but on this night, the stands are brimming with spectators.
A parade of floats circles the inside of the field, and I pull Ellis to go faster until we’re out on the green. Instinctually, I take us over to the cheerleaders, Michelle, Lexy, Emily, Nat, Kate, and Brielle. It takes everything in me not to go over and say hi.
“Where’s Logan?” I ask. I’m so excited to see him; I can hardly contain myself.
A body collides with mine. I step back and stare wild eyed at the tall guy with thick dark hair.
“Excuse me.” He pushes through the crowd with his hands full of soda and a fast food bag.
“Brody, Chloe’s brother,” Ellis whispers.
“She’s got a brother? He must be Celestra.”
“Too diluted. Their lineage has some backwash. Chloe was close to clean, but nothing like you.”
“Oh, right, so you’re up on the who’s who of Celestrial bodies?”
“I know what they tell me, and yes, I know about Logan.”
“Oh. Well, he’s an ass. I don’t really care about him.” Crap! I’d hate to think I blew it all over some stupid comment I made to Ellis.
“The ass is right there.” He points over to a crowd amassing around a huge platform erected on the side of the field.
“And where’s my boyfriend?” I can never forget again that it’s Gage and not Logan.
Ellis leads me by the hand and takes me around the outskirts of the crowd. I see them! Gage and Logan both in uniform.
Four girls step up to the podium. Chloe glows in her sky colored dress. Her long hair flows in the wind, and she’s laughing, waving to the bitch squad front and center.
“Doesn’t the homecoming honor usually go to a senior?” I ask.
“No clue.”
There’s a bunch of pomp and circumstance before they initiate a dramatic drum roll and announce the king, Brett Foresman. He steps forward and accepts his crown. The drums start up again, a much longer and far more dramatic purr than the last. I watch Logan’s face.
“Chloe Bishop!” The announcer screams into the microphone.
Logan doesn’t flinch. Maybe Gage told him, too.
Ms. Richards places the tiara on an ecstatic Chloe. She beams bright as a star. The entire crowd cheers as she gets on the float and heads off on her victory lap.
We spend the rest of the night circulating within the mob of people. After the game, we head over to Ellis’ house.
***
“Right about now, I’m hooking up with some chick from East.” He seems rather bored by the fact.
“Nice,” I muse. We start heading up the driveway. “So you gonna go spy on yourself?” I’m not sure why Ellis thinks coming back here is so important.
“Great idea, but no. I thought hooking up with two girls on the same night would set some kind of metaphysical record. You know, a menage a trios, but there’s two of me.” He takes my hand. “And different locations.” He adds, waving to a group of guys as we move through the crowd. “I ran into myself once, and it messed with my head.”
“You and Chloe did this all the time, huh?”
“Yeah, but I don’t miss her. She put my balls in a blender.” We step into the house. “I’ll be back.” He darts into a dark swarming sea of bodies.
What am I supposed to do?
Logan and Gage.
I find Logan out back by the pool, sitting with Carly-leave-you-in-the-forest-to-get-your-arm hacked-off-Foster. I think I should have a little fun with Miss Foster myself tonight.
“Hey.” A deep voice comes from behind.
I turn around with a jump.
It’s Gage.
“Hi.
” Does he know me?
“So you go to, East?”
“Totally.” I’m relived he gave me the out. “And you go to, West.” Now that I’ve shown off my brilliant deductive logic skills, I need to get out of this and quick.
Gage stares, wide-eyed and mesmerized. My heart picks up pace, and my ears fill with a rush of adrenaline drowning out the rest of the noise from the party. I’m shocked at how quickly he’s taken with me. There’s a delirium swirling around us, and for the better part, it seems to be contagious. I place my hand gently on his chest. The strong urge to kiss Gage bubbles up to the surface, so I do.
Kissing Gage is magic—it saturates me. Emotions funnel through him like an electrical current of throbbing anguish.
I pull back. Gage swallows hard and gives a slightly embarrassed stare before offering a nervous smile.
“Let’s get out of here.” Ellis snatches me by the arm and pulls me through a sea of bodies before I have a chance to say anything.
Outside the air is cool as we race down the driveway.
“Chloe’s car is gone.” He points out.
“Crap. I forgot all about helping Chloe.”
“That’s not why we’re here.” He hops over the short, slatted fence and helps as I try to navigate the splintered wood.
“Maybe not you, but maybe some of us have better intentions than hooking up with two girls at once.”
“The girls were a nice bonus—girl,” he corrects. “This is why I really came.” He plucks a bloated bag of crumpled herbs out from under his jacket.
“You’re kidding.”
“I stole my stash.” He grins, proud of his endeavor.
“Yeah, you’re freaking brilliant. Hey,” I ask looking around at the cars parked at every angle, “do you know if Carly has a car?”
“Foster? She’s got some red sedan with a sticker of kitten on the back. That’s it.” He points to a shiny new car parked on the down slope near Logan’s house.
I cross the street and pick up a softball sized rock off the side road.
“What the…” Before Ellis can sound off, I hurl the thing at the windshield. It bounces and tumbles off the front with the impact of a feather.
Celestra: Books 1-2 Page 32
