by Holly Hood
“But I know you. And I really think you liked him. And I saw the way he looked at you. He was totally enamored by you. Are you sure you can let that go?”
I wasn’t sure of anything. But the logical thing to do was let it go so I didn’t end up hurt. The smart thing to do was stay far away from something so unsafe and unusual.
“Maybe if Slade was somebody else things wouldn’t be so complex, Karsen. But he’s not. He’s the guy who sold his soul to a coven, to…”
“To remain living. Who wouldn’t? No one wants to die.” Karsen slipped off the bed. She stepped into a yellow cotton dress from her bag and a pair of white panties.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what’s the point?” Karsen kept on. She held the door handle in her grasp, waiting for my argument.
“The point…The point is I am afraid of him. The point is, even if I did care about him, he destroyed that because he did something really wrong. It’s not okay to take another person’s life no matter what.” I crossed my arms in defense mode now.
“Mmm hmm. There are motives to do anything. And Slade had his reason. You may not like it, but he still had a reason. Now, I am going to shower. You think about calling him. Let him explain himself to you.” She slipped out my bedroom door, shutting it behind her.
I uncrossed my arms, glancing at my wrist. The heart was no longer there, no longer a permanent part of my body. And that was all I needed to know that Slade was aware my feelings had changed. He knew he messed up. He knew this was what I would want.
Drive home
I counted all the motorcycles passing by Nona’s pricey sports car. I had hit twenty before Nona busted through my thoughts.
“Did you two have a fun time?” she asked from the front seat. Her cheeks overly rosy. Most likely from the drinks she managed to get her hands on while we waited for Karsen’s flight.
“Yeah, I always have fun with Karsen,” I said with a sluggish nod. I was barely functioning from lack of sleep. My bed was calling my name. I needed to get in about six hours of sleep so I could feel half normal again. Because right now I felt like I was teetering on the edge of death.
I closed my eyes as Nona and Claude started up a discussion about the new restaurant nearby that had just opened its doors for business. I let the sunlight warm my skin, slowly drifting away from reality. The backs of my eyelids ignited in flashes of light.
“You went and saw Slade again,” Ezra said all of a sudden.
I jerked my head forward, letting out a gasp of air. She was trying to slip into my subconscious again. Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I smacked my face with my palm, bringing myself back to life.
“Is everything alright back there, Hope?” Claude asked in his usual soft mutter with a sprinkle of a French accent.
“Just… fine,” I said, stifling a scream. Ezra was sitting next to me in the back seat now. Her legs crossed and resting in the middle of the divider of the front seat. She was wearing a long, gauze-like dress.
I stared at her, not sure what I was supposed to be doing.
“Go ahead, say something. They already think you’re nuts.”
I’m not saying anything, I silently thought, knowing Ezra was probably capable of listening in on my every word.
“Works for me,” Ezra said, her mouth pulling just the slightest at the corners, creating a conceited smile. “I’m a witch. I can hear your thoughts.”
I swallowed down the bitter feeling that coursed my veins. Then what do you want?
“You went and saw him. And I warned you against that.”
I jerked my shoulders ever so slightly, afraid Nona or Claude would see.
I went to see what was happening to the girls at the concert. I didn’t go to see Slade. And I am never going back there again, so leave me the hell alone, Ezra. You can have him!
Ezra’s eyes widened. Her fingers gripped the leather upholstery. She took long, steady breaths. “This may be the only warning I am willing to give you, do not mess with me.”
The intense glare was enough to send my heart into quicker beats. I pleaded with my inner thoughts to stay silent. I was finished talking to Ezra. And I was not letting her slip back inside my mind.
Nona gave me a sympathetic gaze, her eyebrows hitching up and creating several wrinkles in her forehead. “How about a big, fat, juicy steak to cheer you up?”
I dropped my jaw. Was she really offering me meat to stifle down the intense dread and depression I was going through? I missed my best friend. No part of a cow would ever mend the emptiness I now was hiding deep inside.
But it didn’t matter if my guts were back to Jell-O and that I felt abandoned. Or that my feelings were badly stepped on. Nona was going to force me to suffer through a morning feast with her and Claude whether I liked it or not.
Claude jerked the car to a stop. He let out a dry cough. “Well, shall we?”
I shrugged my shoulders, before I let out a long, crabby groan of approval.
“Things will look up.” She patted my arm as she willed me to believe her words. I jerked the door to the fancy restaurant open, offering her entry first.
Soft echoes of stringed instruments fluttered through the atmosphere and the subtle clink of silverware abounded around me. But I felt like I didn’t exist. My head was weightless, my arms like heavy wooden weights at the sides of my body. I rubbed at my eyes, but that hardly helped the situation. I blinked several times, the candlelight turning into an orange haze. I caught my head just as it was heading for my spinach salad.
“Hope, dear, your posture,” Nona ordered. She placed a hand on my wrist, giving it a shake. As if that was supposed to bring me back to life. I pulled myself forward, removing my arms from the table and resting them in my lap.
“Sorry, I’m just really tired,” I offered.
Claude smiled at me with eyes full of compassion.
I batted around my salad, spearing spinach leafs with about as much vigor as a frail elderly woman.
“Julia, so good to see you,” Lynette said from behind our table, her smile wide. She placed a hand on Nona’s shoulder.
“Lynette, how have you been? We haven’t spoken in some time,” Nona pointed out rather bluntly. She located me with her green eyes, narrowing them as she looked my way. “Ever since my granddaughter got kicked out of school, I believe.”
My cheeks heated. Lynette stared at me, looking a bit helpless herself.
“Yes, it’s been awhile. And I am really sorry about that whole situation, Hope. I hope you’re still finding time to dance and sing,” Lynette said.
“No, I haven’t gotten around to it,” I told her, going back to my leafy greens. My desire for food sparking back up at the thought of conversing with anyone.
Lynette was a pleasant, warm woman. I could tell she would never harm anybody. But I really didn’t want to talk to anyone.
A soft yank on my shirt sleeve pulled my arm away from my plate. I averted my eyes from my food to the source. “I thought you knew to stay away from me?” I whispered.
“Will you please just give me a few minutes? Excuse yourself,” Tucker prodded.
I shot a look at Nona and Tucker’s mom. They were too busy talking about after school activities and charity benefits to notice anything I was about to stupidly do.
Claude fiddled idly with his napkin, shoveling orange tinged soup in between his lips.
I dropped my napkin next to my plate, pushing my chair back. “Fine, five minutes. I could use the fresh air.”
Tucker graciously followed alongside of me out the door of the fancy restaurant. I took a seat on an iron bench. Tucker stood before me, hands shoved down into his expensive jeans. He jerked his arm about making it apparent he was anxious about approaching me at all. The muscles in his forearms flexed underneath the black dress shirt he was wearing. I admired the way he rolled the sleeves to the elbow, it made him looked trendy, yet laidback all at the same time.
“How you been?” he a
sked. His dark brown eyes showed just a hint of what I didn’t expect to see—softness and real concern.
“I’ve been better,” I tossed out, shrugging my shoulders.
“I don’t know exactly what I thought I was going to show to myself by having a word with you, but I wanted to try. The last few times we talked it didn’t go to well.”
I ran my tongue across my bottom lip, wetting the dry skin. Suddenly I cared what Tucker thought about my appearance. “A lot has happened. But if you want to apologize, then fine, I was always taught to accept an apology.”
He nodded his head, gesturing with his hand to the space next to me on the bench. I nodded that he was okay to sit, that I wouldn’t attack him for trying to get closer to me.
“I’m sorry, Hope.” He wove his fingers together resting them in his lap. “I treated you bad, and I never meant to do that. I wish I could take it all back. I know you probably think I am this awful guy, but I promise I’m really not.”
Tucker was nice-looking. He had this airy way about himself. He knew how to make just about any girl light up from head to toe. There was zero wrong with him in the flesh or personality wise. I just felt dreadful when I thought about his family. I sensed Tucker was hiding something dark. Maybe he was aware, or maybe he wasn’t, but it still made me shudder at the thought.
“Do you think maybe we can start over?” He extended his hand. “Forget about my dad. Forget about that night and any awful thing we ever said to one another, and just begin again?”
I rolled the idea of camaraderie with Tucker around in my head. He was the only person willing to be around me. There weren’t hundreds of people at my door begging to hang out. It seemed really self-centered to agree to be his friend just because I loathed sitting at home alone. But I extended my hand anyway and took a firm hold of his hand.
“I think we can start over. I would like to try that,” I said, shaking his hand firmly and with an air of coolness. A smile tugged at his lips. He gave in, probably really relieved.
“I’m really happy to hear that. Maybe we could hang out today sometime,” he said, standing.
“I’m going home and going to bed. I had a hectic week with Karsen. Call me later?” I asked.
He gave a nod, letting me in the door to the restaurant first. We parted ways.
I took a seat back at the table. A giant hunk of beef covered my plate. My mouth watered at the sight of it. Maybe Nona was correct, I thought to myself feeling suddenly insatiable.
“It’s amazing. This is why I would never be one of those stupid vegetarians,” Nona moaned. She clutched her chest, tearing into another piece of perfectly grilled steak, a big grin plastered on her face.
Claude gave a thumbs up, tucking his white napkin down into the collar of his shirt. He gripped the silverware in each hand, going at his own piece of juicy meat.
“I see things worked out with Tucker?” Nona questioned. She licked her lips, taking a sip of her red wine.
“For now, yeah,” I said around a mouthful of the juiciest piece of beef that I ever had the honor of tasting.
I didn’t know what the future held for Tucker and me, but I was willing to take the time to find out. I wasn’t in school. I had no good friends in California. My best friend was back in Georgia where I once knew how it felt to smile every day. There were just some things out of reach in life.
Caught up
The penetrating ring of the telephone sliced through my nap. I opened my eyes, squinting at the sunshine streaming through my window. I craned my neck to check the time. It was near five. I groaned a bit louder than usual, slinging the covers off of me.
“Hope,” Dad said, wrapping on my bedroom door.
I pulled the door open, running a hand through my messy hair. “Yeah?”
Dad raised one eyebrow, jiggling the phone at me. “It’s someone looking for you. My daughter I haven’t seen all day.”
I rolled my eyes at Dad’s poor attempt at making me feel guilty for sleeping in. “Hello?”
“Hey there. I didn’t interrupt something important did I?” Tucker asked.
I sighed. “No. Just waking up.”
“Well, I’d like to come get you and take you for dinner. Is that alright?” Tucker asked with enough perk to his voice to raise the morale of a small crowd.
“Dinner. Hmm. I would have to shower. But I suppose that works,” I said, trying to act as cool and relaxed as I could muster. I wasn’t the easiest to talk to after waking up. Usually I was grouchy.
“Okay. So how about an hour?”
“Hour sounds good. Do I need to dress up or is this going to be casual?” I wasn’t willing to risk it with Tucker. He was different than most guys my age. He came from money. If he was a regular boy from back home jeans and a t-shirt would have sufficed.
“What would you be most comfortable with, Hope?” Tucker asked. He was showing a side of him I hadn’t seen much of.
“I don’t usually do this kind of thing so I’ll let you choose.”
“Casual it is,” Tucker said, saying his goodbye and leaving me to dash to get ready.
I ran through the kitchen to retrieve my clothes out of the laundry room.
“What’s the big rush?” Dad asked. He was standing at the stove cooking something. Apparently making dinner.
I opened the dryer, peering inside at all the boxer briefs and socks, Dad’s work clothes and the boy’s t-shirts. Nothing that looked like mine anywhere. I groaned, slamming the dryer shut.
“I was going out,” I tossed out there, opening the lid to the washer.
“And were you planning on telling me with whom?” Dad asked, bringing the wooden ladle to his lips. He blew on the white sauce, studying my agitated expression.
“Tucker,” I said so low he would never be able to decipher the name. I wasn’t so sure Dad was in favor of Tucker and I hanging around each other again.
“Tucker,” he echoed. His eyebrows dropped several inches as he stirred the sauce and his usual smirk was now replaced with a rigid line of disapproval.
“Yes, Tucker.” I threw open the dryer one more time, rifling through the clothes in hopes of finding something of mine. Sheer agitation pulled at my body more and more as I failed to locate anything.
“Look, Hope, I don’t know how to throw this out there. I’m your father. I’m not the one who wants to talk to you about these things.” He pulled up a seat. I watched him, waiting to hear his way of thinking. He wrung his hands together nervously, wrapping his knuckles on the table. I wished he would just spit whatever was eating at him, out. It seemed ever since I mentioned Tucker’s name he was suddenly bothered and dying to say something.
I checked the clock on the wall and took a seat in a hurry to get this over with.
“You just were hanging around with Slade. And we know it wasn’t a platonic thing. And now you’re heading off with this Tucker kid. Doesn’t that make you look a little, uh, um...?” Dad ran a hand through his hair uneasy with the next words about to leave his lips. “Promiscuous?”
I gasped in shock. “Promiscuous?”
Elliot came into the kitchen with a bag of chips. “Promiscuous. To have casual sexual relations frequently with different partners. I believe that was what Dad was implying. Thanks. I’m here all week.”
Dad jerked forward. “Elliot! That is enough out of you.”
I dropped my gaze. “I thought you always said not to worry about what other people think about me. Now there is an issue?”
Dad stumbled for his next words. “Honey, I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
“I have no friends here. Tucker is the only person willing to hang out with me. What would you do, Dad? You’re old. You don’t have to worry about friends.” I let out a breath.
“I’m not that old, kid. What happened to Slade?”
His words cinched my heart in my chest, pain radiating all the way through me at the sound of his name. “That just didn’t work out.”
“Is everything alright
?” Dad said, scanning my face for any hint I wasn’t being truthful with him.
I nodded. “Things are fine. It just wasn’t the right thing for me.”
Dad leaned back in his chair, looking a bit comforted to hear me say so. “Well, how about this? How about I get to know this Tucker character a little better? That way we can get a sense of Tucker before things go anyplace else.”
I knew there was no getting around this. So I nodded.
“Good. How about you call him and let him know we are having dinner at the house tonight. And let him know he is more than welcome to come along.” Dad returned to the stove, stirring the pot. I sniffed the air.
“Chicken Alfredo. Nona’s recipe, minus the booze.” Dad cracked a half grin.
I hurried off to my room to inform Tucker that our plans had fallen through and that now he would have to tolerate a night with my father. He took it rather well, asking if there was anything he needed to bring. Such manners, I tell ya.
Finally showered and clean, I pushed a headband down on my head securing my bangs back. I applied some cherry lip gloss, dusted a light pink blush on my cheeks and spritzed on some Love Spell.
Crawford’s thunderous howl echoed the hallway letting me know that Tucker was, without a doubt, in my home. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, studying my reflection. I smoothed my lavender shirt, adjusting the sleeves. Pleased with my ensemble of jean capris and the lavender button up Karsen traded me. I headed out to greet him.
Tucker rose from his seat in the kitchen followed by Lynette, his mother. I held back my surprised expression, trying my hardest to keep a straight face.
“Hey,” I said, but it came out a little too high pitched. Dad repeatedly wiped his hands on his dish towel looking just as flustered as I felt.
Lynette smiled anxiously, her eyes full of apprehension. The only one who looked calm and at ease was Tucker.
