She needed to learn to take no for an answer.
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
I ran the wand through every single piece of Kit’s hair. Once I’d started, I wanted the finished product to be flawless not rushed. It was the part of my dad in me that I couldn’t get rid of.
‘If you’re going to do something, do it properly,’ he always says, ‘or don’t do it at all.’
“Now tip your head upside down.” Kit done as I said, swiveling to the side on her stool to get enough room. Her blonde hair fell forward and I ruffled it with my fingers, separating the curls and then I ran a brush through the whole thing. “Okay, you can put your head up now.” She did, and I said, “Close your eyes. I’m going to spray you.”
Kit held her breath with the cheeks of a blowfish and squeezed her eyes shut. I picked up her hairspray and let it rain all over her fresh hair-do.
“I’m done.” I set the can down and smiled at my thorough work. She looked fresh from the salon. But I caught the flash of her alarm clock and we had wasted an hour up here. Jordan would be here soon and I was nowhere near drunk or courageous enough.
Kit fluffed her fingers through her blonde waves, thanking me. Her hair looked nothing like mine. Mine was obviously natural and nowhere near as nice to look at. Kit looked like a model—a blonde bombshell. There was no time to feel bad about myself, though, it wouldn’t reunite me with Jordan any quicker.
I followed down the stairs behind Kit, my 5’5 frame hidden behind her tall figure made even taller in heels. We got halfway to the bottom just as Julian stepped through the door. He faltered midstride, his eyes landing on Kit’s long, pearly-white legs, working their way up slowly to her face. His snapback was turned the wrong way round and he was sporting light-gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that hugged his torso too well. He never needed to dress to impress, he just was what he was. I was grateful he couldn’t hear my silent praise. But however good he looked, I absolutely did not want to speak to him. He was not ruining tonight, I was already over-strung with an imbalance of uneasy worry.
Kit had a game plan and she kicked it off by sashaying past Julian like she never even noticed he was there, her short dress barely reaching her thighs. It must have worked because his eyes followed where her ass went, leading with a mind of their own. I needed a dress like that to use on Jordan. He was definitely the kind of guy who liked to taste with his eyes. It was one of the things that bothered me daily, his appreciation of the female’s natural beauty. He was vocal about it, too; dropping compliments like tiny bombs, to me of all people, his freaking girlfriend. In his head I sometimes wondered if he still only saw me as Angel, the girl he goofed around with and I’d never seriously ranked as girlfriend in his eyes.
I pushed the fowl memory to the side and carried on down the stairs with my own plans of refusing to acknowledge Julian
He put out his hand to stop me from passing.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Can you give me a minute?” He wasn’t looking for an answer, he was pushing me in front of him and into the den where, surprisingly, the rest of the party hadn’t yet taken over.
“You changed your hair.” He stood against the doorway and I felt my muscles stiffen. “You think dodging a hairbrush will keep me away?”
Fucking hell. How bad did my hair look?
“As if you are that important,” I pointed out, “despite what people let you think. You might be a God on the field, but in real life you are mortal like the rest of us.”
Julian snickered and I knew he didn’t believe that. “I won’t bother asking if you dressed up for me. I can clearly see you haven’t.”
Again with the frickin’ sweater!
“God! Do you ever turn it off? Everything that you see, whether you like it or not, is for someone else.” The smug smile slipped clean off his face and I raised my eyebrow in triumph.
“You’re going to see him?” he asked in a low voice. He sounded disgusted and I was ashamed to admit the embarrassment he forced me to acknowledge.
“I don’t need to tell you anything.” I’d had enough and I stormed past him and back into the party.
“You’re just going to keep giving it up to that dick?” Julian was behind me, speaking loud enough for the people around us to hear.
I spun around to face him, my face red with anger. “Keep your voice down, you prick! And stop getting over excited.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Who are you, my dad? Go and play with a ball somewhere, Julian.”
“I’m looking out for you. Guy’s making you look like a fucking fool.”
My voice was on the very edge of screaming. “How are you looking out for me? We aren’t friends—the other day you didn’t even fucking like me. I can do what I want and I’ve managed fine up until now without your interfering. Your words make me feel this small.” I signified by nipping my fingers together. “I could really do without it.”
Julian’s aggression subsided and he puffed out a full breath of air. “Fine.”
I sighed. This was pathetic. I was confused as to what was even happening right now. I dropped the angst in my voice for something softer. “Thanks for your concern, but seriously, I don’t need it.” He wouldn’t be the first person not to understand what I saw in Jordan.
Julian moved in closer, the overcrowded room pushing us together. Every other person seemed to be having fun here but us. The music was blaring, half-dressed girls littered the house and the alcohol was free and flowing. But we were in this time lapse together, mentally separated from everyone else. The party was over for me, Julian had made sure of that.
His lips grazed my hair, his breath slithering down my neck. I closed my eyes at his contact, and anyone would think I was savoring it. “You drive me crazy,” he said, from above me. “You are all I fucking think about. Come to the game next week.”
“No,” I said instinctively, looking up at his towering frame that was crowding me. His thick lashes were lowered over his blue eyes that were pinned on me. I pushed two hands against his chest to get some breathing space. It had the same effect as pushing against a cemented wall.
“I won’t be able to play my best if you aren’t there. Think about it…” He eased backwards, out of my way, and looked me dead in the eye. It took me longer than it should to think up something suitable to say, and by the time I opened my mouth to speak, Julian turned and walked away.
What the hell just happened?
Dazed and annoyed, I wandered into the kitchen. Nicky, Drift, and Katlyn were all in there, laughing and passing around a freshly made joint. Katlyn sat on the counter and Nicky stood in-between her dangling legs. She toked on the fat joint and then met his open lips, exhaling slowly into his mouth. He sucked in the smoke and then released it, leaning in for a kiss. I didn’t think Katlyn liked me all that much after I groped her should-be-boyfriend, but I wouldn’t like me either if I was her. If that had been Jordan I—I couldn’t even think about it let alone watch it.
She speared a look of boredom over her shoulder when Nicky’s gaze latched onto me, alerting everyone to my entrance. “You look like you need a drink,” said Drift. “What was all that with Seven?”
“You saw that?”
Nicky laughed and Katlyn rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Heard it, more like.”
“Good thing he’s got Kitty Kat to calm him down,” said Drift, smirking at Nicky. “She’s fucking smokin’ tonight.”
“Aint nothin like a nice bit of pussy.” The look Nicky gave me made my skin crawl. “You know any?” he asked me with a sick grin on his face.
“Nicky!” Katlyn jabbed her fist into his chest with a scowl. “Don’t be gross.”
I picked up a bottle of beer from the counter. “Can I have this?” I asked no one in particular.
“Sure. I spunked in it, but it’s yours,” Nicky joked. He and Drift cracked up and I put the bottle back down, the glass clattering loudly on the tiles.
>
“There’s more in the fridge,” Katlyn said, shooting Nicky daggers. “Ignore him.”
“Baby…” Nicky nibbled at her jaw and she instantly softened in his hands, smiling.
I got a beer from the fridge and stood, not particularly enjoying myself and finished it quickly. No one noticed when I left to use the bathroom, and I rushed to go pee, checking the time on my cell for Jordan’s arrival. They might not have seen me, but I saw Kit and Julian perfectly.
I took a step to the side to get more cover, unreasonably feeling like I’d stumbled upon something I shouldn’t. Even though they were in the open, I didn’t want them to know I was there.
Julian sat on the stairs, his legs spread wide, and Kit was on his knee, her hair a shield preventing anyone seeing his face. I’d known it would happen, I was the one who helped her get here. I watched as Julian’s hand flattened on Kit’s thigh, his fingers spread for maximum contact, dipping into the hem of her dress and grabbing at her skin. And then he stood with her in his arms and carried her to the top of the stairs, out of sight.
Yeah, um, peeing could wait. There was no way I was going up there with those two on the loose.
<>
I reached for my phone, calling it time to message Jordan and see what was taking him so long when the front door opened and he materialized before my eyes. I slipped my phone into the torn pocket of my shorts. “I’d have come out,” I said, taking a few steps forward to meet him.
He shrugged one shoulder, his eyes skimming the hallway before landing on me. “Thought maybe you’d want to hang a while.”
“I’m happy to go,” I said, swallowing how much it bothered me that he wanted to stay. He didn’t really know anyone here. And—oh god—Nicky was here. I dragged a hand from my hairline through my hair, not even trying to hide my dismay at Jordan’s need for a good party.
“We could just stay an hour or something. I could use a beer, actually.”
Why? Was staying here so much better than being alone with me? Clearly it was because he had already abandoned ship and started making his way through the living room. One quick glance over his shoulder confirmed I was trailing behind him like I always did.
See, the thing about Jordan is, he can make a friend in a fucking black hole, and that was exactly what he did—made a friend. And with Nicky, no less.
Kit and Julian had re-joined the living and we were on the garden patio, the tepid night air a whole world better than being stuffed inside the cramped house, no matter how much of a mansion it was.
Nicky sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his large body imposing on the miniscule deck chair. “I know I would kill it playing soccer,” he said, rolling a joint. Always rolling a joint.
“I used to play football in high school,” said Jordan.
Nicky licked the paper, sealing up his hefty blunt. He should look into rolling and smoking for a career if he didn’t make it to the NFL. I knew my dad would kick some serious ass if he knew his team was sitting here smoking their asses off. He hated drugs and partying in general. He was far too sophisticated for fun. Or laughing. Or smiling. Oh sorry, my bad—unless it was his own jokes he was laughing it, which in general were not funny.
“What position you play?” Nicky lit his joint, basking in the heavy fumes.
“QB.” Jordan looked at me, a small smile lighting my heart like a match. Of course Jordan had been quarterback for our old high school team, his lithe, muscled body had made him the perfect choice. His perfect body would suit most sports, and that wasn’t me being biased, just honest. He preferred soccer now, though. Playing, that is. Something my dad couldn’t get his tiny little head around.
Julian sat back from the conversation, appearing to have adopted the ‘if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all’ attitude, if his stony expression was anything to go by.
“I reckon we could replace Seven for you. His shit is slackin’.” Nicky grinned at Julian, whose features sharpened. Just a bit.
“Ah, I don’t play anymore.” Jordan glanced at Julian. “Football’s not for me. I’d rather watch than play.”
“They don’t got practically naked cheerleaders in the world cup, bro.” I levelled a slow-burning glare at Nicky. I realized that that kind of harmless statement should not bother me, but given the fact that Jordan spends forty percent of his day commenting on other girls, for obvious reasons this topic of conversation was not digesting well on me.
And still Nicky didn’t shut up. “Oh, man. I love women, don’t you?”
Jordan didn’t even answer, just had the gall to look sheepish. That’s because he does! My inner masochist shouted. When Jordan and I first started dating, on the exact same night that our mutual minds truly connected, we had both blurted out how since we’d taken our friendship to this new level, neither of us could bare to look at another person. And it wasn’t for lack of wanting to, we just stopped seeing anyone else. It was literally me and him and believe me, Jordan confessing such a bold statement was the biggest, unexpected declaration in all my history of knowing him.
And it had lasted quite a run before cracks started to show and the old Jordan clawed at the surface, shredding my perfect bubble. Before us, Jordan was infamous for his inability to be strapped down. He likes girls. A lot. But he likes his friends and his freedom more—girls are there strictly to enjoy, and he was always clear about that. It was sad to say I was honored he had chosen me out of everyone.
I zoned out of my rocky walk down memory lane just in time to catch Jordan sneak Kit a lengthily glance, as if to confirm my inside reminiscence.
The first thing I thought to do was look at Julian, who of course hadn’t missed a fucking moment of my humiliation. He stared back at me with his steel gaze, showing no emotion, but I was sure ‘I told you so’ was in there somewhere.
I dropped my gaze, pretending I hadn’t seen anything. While the conversations were in full flow, Julian stretched out his long legs and went inside. He never came back and Jordan and I left early. The static between us was a light one, but the uneasiness I was carrying around refused to shift.
In the car, Jordan laid his hand on my thigh with a soft squeeze, despite hardly sparing me two minutes at the party and choosing everyone else over spending time with me. But he smiled at me with a genuine affection and it loosened a knot inside me that I’d thought was hard to budge.
He dropped me off at my dorm, and if I didn’t have a roommate he would have definitely been coming up. I’d spent all night with him, but at the same time hardly had anything to do with him. It was like we’d been on opposite sides of a mirror, and I was the one who was trapped—trapped with my own evil thoughts while he had a great time without me.
But his great time didn’t look that great to someone like me, who knew his mood as well as the back of my hand. His smile was skin deep, his eyes full of something darker that only I picked up on.
After a kiss neither of us wanted to end, I got out of the car, my heart leaving with him as he drove away.
<>
The next morning after an early routine run-through with Calvin, I changed for my scheduled classes, walking the stretch of the huge campus to Sociology.
Last night had ended well enough in spite of the unsteady start, but I was awash with the stickiest sense of nausea rolling around in the pit of my stomach. My anxiety had a life of its own and my legs felt like Jell-O underneath me. The urge to throw up hit me around the same time my hands started shaking, and then my phone chimed out a text message from inside my pocket.
And I knew.
In those handful of seconds… I just knew.
Time stopped, my breathing stopped.
There was a chance my heart had stopped.
I knew before reading the message what it would say. The wrong kind of butterflies took flight in my stomach and my heart rate kicked in, excelling to dangerous proportions. I was sweating, hot and cold at the same time. I will never know how I did it, but I freed my ph
one, and with a pounding in my chest and blurred vision, I read Jordan’s message.
Jordan: I’m sorry, Angel. I tried, I really did. And it’s not that I don’t care about you, because I do. But I’m not cut out for a girlfriend. I don’t want this to change our friendship. You are still my best friend. Xx
That was it. Three fucking sentences and my whole world had fallen completely apart. Three sentences and my heart was broken beyond the point of repair, the splinters taking my breath away.
One simplistic message and every single mundane word had defined everything about me.
10: Julian
ANGEL WAS RIGHT AT THE back in the full auditorium by the time I got there, haul-assing all the way from the other side of the university. I fucked up with my schedule, but it was too late to change it now, and I didn’t care enough. I considered it a form of exercise instead.
Angel was caged in on either side and I subtly told the guy on her right to move, which he eagerly did. When Angel didn’t react with some smart mouth comment, I knew something was up. She stared down at her book in front of her with a quietness that really fucking bothered me.
I vaguely heard Marcus-Lucas-Maximus-Meridius-whatever the fuck, tell us to partner up and carry on with our assignments. I kicked my bag under the bench and water dripped onto angel’s paper as I brought my head up.
“Whoa,” I said, watching the ink spread on her page, “are you crying?”
She wiped a finger under her eye and shook her head, sniffling like a mouse. “I have allergies.”
“Your allergies are so bad you cry about it? Not buying it, Angel.”
“Don’t talk to me.” Her voice was so clogged, I could barely hear her. But she wasn’t asking me to shut up with any hostility, she was too upset for that.
“Tell me what happened.”
She sniffed back another tear. I could tell she was the kind of girl who would rather go without hundreds of people’s attention on her if she could help it. I wasn’t expecting it when she got up from her seat and shoved past my legs. She was out the door at the top of the stairs before I could register what was happening. I thought about it for a full five seconds before I got up myself and went after her. I caught up to her at the end of the hallway, and then she dodged me by walking into the girl’s bathroom. I did a double-glance to see if anyone was watching, and then I followed her inside.
Falling for Seven Page 11
