Then the first few skaters filtered onto the ice. I couldn’t see Angel yet, though. I waited, watching closely, then I saw her. She skated onto the ice wearing a white leotard and tan, shiny tights, a white and pink team jacket over the top. A long French braid snaked down her back and black gloves covered her fingers. Her focus was so strong, I sat and watched her skate a while, every move she carved her body into fascinating to me. I was in a trance, the aching in my head unloading. She was engrossed, nobody there but her and the ice. No one else mattered, she looked peaceful and determined, and the thought of disrupting her private zone made me think whether I had the right to do that.
I didn’t.
But leaving before she knew the truth would be a cop-out on my part. I’d taken the bet, but it ended up not meaning a damn thing to me, and Angel had ended up meaning everything. She’d never believe it, why should she? But she needed to hear it.
The practice ended and I waited outside the ice rink. I’d seen her Mini Cooper in the lot so she had to pass by me to get to her car. She was the next person out of the main entrance with Calvin, the smile lingering on her lips just shy of reaching her eyes, the honesty missing. The lack of her usual depth had an irresistible pull on me to go to her and make her hear me out. I was the one who was supposed to make things better, not worse.
When she got close enough, I separated myself from the wall and into her direct path. She looked up, the fake smile burning out. She could scowl all she wanted, at least this was real. If she felt enough for me to be upset, that was something, and I was taking it. I’d take anything I could get.
Calvin loitered by her side, his unsurety flitting from me to Angel. The building tension grew too substantial for him. “Uh… bye,” he said, then he left, glancing back over his shoulder as he got further away.
“Let me speak,” I said, when Angel tried to dart the other way. I stepped right up to her, fencing off her exit. “Then you can run away.”
“Just tell me if it’s true. I mean, I know it is, but I want you to say it. I need to hear it.”
“Yes,” I said, no regret in my voice. I’d done it and now I was facing it. “I accepted the bet that I could get the next girl I saw to sleep with me. It was dumb, but I never knew you. You were no one, just another face—another girl. Then I got to know you and—” Might as well be honest. I’d come this far. “—I still didn’t like you.”
Her eyes rolled and a jaded look ironed out her features.
“You acted needy and desperate, but then I realized that that wasn’t you. That was what someone had made out of you. So I’ll tell you what you want to hear. I took the bet with Nicky—that at the time meant nothing—and I slept with you. But a soon as it happened, I called it off.”
“You had already won!”
I stepped up to her, my body hijacked by anger. “Do I look like I’ve fucking won?”
She took a deep breath, her eyes closing. “You know what? It’s not important.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I don’t care. You have taught me something. You’ve taught me that I’m stronger than I think I am. You showed me I could rise above Jordan and start again, and then you reminded me that when you take your eye off the ball for even a second… that’s when you lose. I took my eye off the ball with you and I let you suck me into your world. That won’t happen again. When something looks too good, it is. You, Julian, were too good.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
“I know now that you can’t cover up pain. You have to feel it, hear it. Burying it will only cause more pain. A different kind of pain, but it’s still there. You were a distraction and you turned into an illusion. A beautiful illusion, but you weren’t real. I woke up this morning and I just felt… sad. Really sad. Sad that I’d lost a friend I never had to begin with, and sad that I hadn’t been more resilient. So I’m not angry with you, Julian. You’re off the hook.”
“I don’t want to be off the hook.”
She appraised me with a heavy look that punched its way into my chest and grabbed me by the heart. “Turns out I can’t be like you, after all. I can’t fuck and walk away. You can call it pathetic and needy, but I love and I stay.”
“I’m not asking you to walk away. Fuck, I am begging you not to walk away.”
But it wasn’t enough. No words I could say were enough. What I had done to her overshadowed any soppy excuse that had turned up too late.
She looked at me with an innocent curiosity. “Was any of it real? Or was it all just progression?”
The truth? No—would it make a difference? Whatever I told her she wasn’t likely to believe. “The first day we spoke at the ice rink I was softening you up. But I can’t tell you when I started to change my mind about you, because I still don’t know myself. You just happened, Angel, and I can’t get my fucking head around it. I can’t get my head around you.”
I watched her shut down in front of me. All explanations in her eyes worthless coming from a liar. Because that’s how she saw me now—A liar. How could I have fucked things up so badly? She was going to leave any second and I’d have to force myself not to throw myself onto her to stop that happening.
Everything about her bowed out in resignation. Whatever had grown between us was over.
“Goodbye, Julian.”
She walked away from me and there was not another fucking thing I could do about it.
34: Angel
I LEFT A PIECE OF myself behind when I walked away from Julian. He’d rebuilt me from the ground up and then let me crumble faster than a tower of blocks. It was an eye-opener finding out he was only with me for the sake of a bet. I was meant to be getting over Jordan, but all I’d been doing the entire time was falling into something else with someone whose capabilities of breaking my heart a thousand times over were more lethal than anything Jordan had up his pitiful sleeve. When I was with Julian, the world didn’t just stop, it damn well ended. The man was insatiable and my cravings were undying. I’d secretly fooled myself into believing he was the start of something better. More deserving.
And it was all a lie.
I was a joke between him and his friends. I thought my feelings were under control, that I had Julian at a safe enough distance. Same as with Jordan, I’d been fooling myself into a disillusioned reality. I should have allowed myself time to heal—suffered through a breakup the normal way. What hurt the most was Julian jumping on my weakness and tearing into it until I gave in. letting Jordan go was hard because I pulled against the resistance. Letting Julian go was harder. There was no resistance, no pulling. The connection we had felt natural, not forced.
I drove back to my dorm and changed into my pj’s, climbing into bed with my iPhone. I put in my earbuds and cranked the music to full volume. I hadn’t made it through one song before Marilyn stood over my bed, her voice barely audible. “Angel!”
Reluctantly, I took out my earbuds and paused the song. “What?”
“What happened with Julian at the fair yesterday? You just left him there.”
“Nothing happened. We got separated.”
“Oh. He was acting weird, that’s all. Like he couldn’t make up his mind whether to be pissed or desperate.” She sat down on my bed, inquisition over. “It’s Mario’s birthday today. The teams having a thing for him tonight at Joey’s house. Do you feel like it?”
“I have to work.”
“You can’t call in sick?”
“No I can’t call in sick. It’s a job not a hobby. Ricky needs me, Sundays are busy.”
“Ricky does not need you. He managed fine before you got your apron.”
“I can’t come,” I said with finality. “Tell Mario I said happy birthday.”
“Are you sure nothing happened? You’re doing that thing where you act like everything’s great, but really you’re terrible at it and it only makes everyone think that something’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on. I’m tired, I was awake early and asleep late.�
�
Rehashing how I’d made myself look like a fool by giving myself away for a bet could stand to wait another day. I’d neither the energy nor want to get into bringing Marilyn up to speed on my latest avoidable mishap.
Yes, avoidable.
I could have said no to Julian. I should have stayed firm. But seems standing firm and opening my legs are two things so different, yet I so easily succeeded in confusing.
I got out of bed, the comfy slump stifling me. “I’m going to the store. Do you want anything?”
“Nope.”
Marilyn’s head twisted in every direction I moved, her gaze a silent observation.
I traded my cotton sleep shorts for yoga pants and covered my PJ top with a thick, snug hoody, freeing my braid from the neck. I unwrapped my ribbon and worked the braid free.
“Here, I’ll do that.”
I turned away from Marilyn and her fingers separated my hair, combing the loose section down my back. Her careful extraction was soothing and I got lost in my own head while she worked my scalp.
“You have beautiful hair.” Marilyn’s voice jolted me back into the room. “Why did you ever color it?”
I’d never told anyone why before. It was too pathetic my need for acceptance.
“Originally, I did it to keep my dad off my back. I was sick of him comparing me to my mom, always talking down about Mexicans. Then I found out Jordan went for blondes, so I kept it.”
“I don’t think it’s that your dad hates all Mexicans. I mean, he slept with one, right?”
I took a cap from my wardrobe to cover my ridiculously wavy hair. “Yeah, I ‘spose so.”
“It’s her that he hates. And, Angel, can you really blame him?” She gave me a pointed look.
Could I blame him?
Yes.
But Marilyn’s perceptions were hardly so inaccurate you could argue with them. She could be a lousy mom at times, but she was my mom—my heart.
“I would never deal with life the way my dad does. You can’t blame the world for what one person did.” I looked at her, mentally backtracking. “You don’t even like him.”
“I don’t not like him. He’s an asshole, but he does love you.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Are you acting different ‘cause your moms back?”
“I told you, I’m not acting different. And I’m happy she’s back, I wanted her back.” I opened the door, rubbing my finger along the doorframe. “I’m grown, Mar, just like you. You don’t need to worry about me. We’re sisters not mother and daughter.”
“Yeah I do. When something goes wrong, you zone out of life. You did it with Jordan and you’re doing it now.”
Christ, it had been not even a full day and I was back living in zombie-nation. How deep had I gotten myself tangled up with Julian?
“I’ll see you when I get back,” I said, leaving the door wide open.
I walked. Walking always made me get a handle on things and show me a clearer picture. Today it did nothing but exercise my legs. At the store I mindlessly picked up a pre-packed salad sandwich, water and Cheetos, and trailed the isle to go and pay.
“Hey.”
I was so far out of it I never realized Jordan was in front of me until he was blocking my path. “Oh. Hey,” I had the liter bottle of water tucked under my arm and both hands full of my lunch. And on top of that I looked like an unkempt slob. I could at least be thankful for the cap covering some of my face.
“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Familiar swarms of heat rushed from my stomach to my arms, to my fingers—my toes. My heart was racing. All from standing in front of one guy.
He was wearing dark blue jeans and a white sweater, his hands jammed into the front pockets. A disinclined smile coasted onto his lips.
Did he want me to answer that?
“Do you want to hang out for a while? Like we used to? Or are you busy?” His gaze dropped to the sorry excuse for a meal I was carrying. “Yeah, you’re busy.”
“I can hang out,” I said, my brain left out of the decision of what I wanted and what was good for me. “I don’t have to be anywhere till later.”
“Cool. My place okay?”
“Sure. Yeah.” I smiled. “Your place is great.”
<>
It was easy to forget how simple Jordan and I used to have it. It was no exaggeration how fast and solid we became best friends. He got me, I got him. Then we took it too far and the shit hit the fan. He’d done so much to me that was beyond forgiveness or forgetting, but there was no cure for being attracted to him. And I was attracted to him.
He slid a Panic at the Disco CD into the player and we sat on his bed, side by side, listening to the album. “So how’s BU? And everything?”
Never thought I’d be having awkward conversation with Jordan. But here we were and it was awkward.
“Hard. My time is swallowed up, but I get to skate and I’ll be competing soon.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.” I swallowed, looking over at him. “Are you?”
“Not dating.”
My blood pressure started to rise.
“But what?”
“Just… seeing what’s out there.”
“Wow. That was quick.”
He laid me with an indignant look. “You can talk.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Don’t give me that shit. Everyone’s seen you with that football player.”
“He was my friend.” Who I slept with once or twice, but found it so wrong telling that to my ex who I might still be in love with.
“He’s lucky to have you as his friend.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Yes.” His admission came out like razorblades in this throat. “Was that what you wanted?”
“No.” Was it? “I wanted to forget you. I loved you so much. It wasn’t healthy. You aren’t healthy for me.”
“I told you—”
“I know. I pushed you into it. But we were friends first. How could you treat your friend the way you treated me?”
“What did I do?” he asked, clueless to what he’d put me through.
“Put me down in front of your friends. You talked about other girls to me like I was your male buddy. You called me names”
“Like what?”
“Too skinny. Once you said I looked like an ass.”
“That was a joke.”
“Not the way you said it, and not in front of people it isn’t a joke. People I don’t know. You made me feel bad about myself, but I never gave up on you.” I’d thought this through most of our relationship, but never brave enough to say anything. “Did you do all that to get me to leave? Because you could have just broken up with me sooner. Instead you ruined everything that we had, pre-relationship.”
“I never realized I was doing those things, or that was how you felt.”
“Because I never said anything.” I sighed. It was ironic how we were having this conversation sans dysfunctional romance and when it didn’t even matter anymore.
“I may have been jealous of you.”
“Jealous of me? Why?”
“Because you’re gorgeous and everyone thinks so. Because guys were waiting for you to kick me to the curb when you realized you could do better.” His gaze anchored away from me, fixating on a spot on the comforter. His long, perfect fingers pulled at a loose thread. “But mostly because none of those things bothered you. They only bothered me. I was so green with envy that I couldn’t see I was using the exact same tactics to hurt you.”
Answers. A ton of them. Every answer I’d wanted out of him and he was unloading them freely.
“I want to marry you.” His smile was playful, but he meant it. “One day we are going to come back to each other. We’ll find each other. You belong with me. We belong to each other.”
That was bull. If we belonged together, we’d be together. He wouldn’t be out sampling all of Boston’s f
emale offerings. He wanted me, but not now. Later, when he was ready. His terms, never mine.
“Don’t do that.” This was the part that I couldn’t take—didn’t have the strength to handle. “Don’t make me go back to waiting for you. I would have waited a lifetime for you.”
I found it twisted that this made him smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “I would have. And I’d have been miserable doing it. But things change.”
“If I could go back, I’d resist you.”
Not sure that was what I wanted to hear. I frowned, hoping for an elaboration.
“I liked how we were. Before.”
“Me too,” I said. “Before was so much better.”
Life was so much easier then.
I left Jordan’s with two deceptions clear in my mind. I wasn’t in love with him and maybe I never was. I was in love with the obstacles of rejection. He had pushed me away so hard, I became deficient without him, inadequate and dependent. Secondly, the love we did have was that of a boy and a girl who enjoyed each other so much, the boundaries became unclear and we stepped over into a land that we shouldn’t have. I did love Jordan, I loved him unconditionally. But as a friend. If it came down to the nitty gritty, I’d be there above anyone else, whether he was pissing me off or not. It took till now to see that.
It took Julian to show me the subtle yet massive differences.
I called Pamela’s home line, drilling my fingers on my leg waiting for someone to pink up.
“Hello?” The thick flare of my mam’s Latino voice sky-rocketed my nerves.
“Hey, mom.”
“Hi, baby. Oh it’s so good hearing your voice. It hits me more everyday how much I’ve missed you.”
Falling for Seven Page 31
