by Auryn Hadley
The smile stayed until I stepped inside the Language building. That's when Luke met me at the stairs, coming in from another hall. The groan that came out of my mouth was not intentional, but it was loud enough that he heard. Unfortunately, it wasn't loud enough to stop him from falling in at my side.
"Feeling better?" The way he asked that made it sound like I'd faked the accident or something.
I couldn't help the annoyed look on my face. I tried, but this guy just kept rubbing me the wrong way. "Remind me why you care again?"
"Hey," he gasped, lifting both hands in mock innocence. "Just making sure. You looked a little beat up when I gave Nick a ride to the hospital."
"I'm fine, thanks." And a bitch, but this guy just weirded me out. Besides, I'd rather be a bitch than a statistic.
He huffed in frustration but said nothing else until we reached the top of the stairs. I intended to keep walking past him, but his hand shot out, catching my elbow carefully. When I tried to pull free, he tugged, guiding me out of the flow of traffic. I went. I didn't like it, but I had no real reason to cause a scene. Not yet, at least.
"Is this because I didn't tip enough the other night?" The gloating look on his face proved he knew better.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed that he was making me sound like some cheap gold-digger. "No, ok?"
"Then what's it going to take to make you like me a little more?"
Right at that moment, his brass-colored impersonator walked past. I didn't know the guy's name, but his eyes crawled all over my body before he disappeared into our classroom. The look on his face was menacing, making me feel like I was under attack for no reason. When I looked back, Luke's eyes were locked on the asshole like the two of them shared some nefarious secret.
"Friend of yours?" I asked snidely. "Because the way y'all stare at me is getting old already."
Luke sighed deeply and lifted a hand to rub his brow. "Sienna, look –"
"I don't need to look. It's starting to get a little annoying that you and your buddy keep eye-fucking me in class. In case y'all missed it, that's not a real good way to make a good impression. You've already screwed up being friends – let alone anything else – so you can quit already. The only thing I want from you is to be left alone. You can tell that to the goon squad." I waved my hand at the door the brass Adonis had just disappeared through.
Luke's head whipped around, confusion on his face. "Gabe? I thought all chicks loved big, blonde, and beautiful."
"Yeah? Well, don't get your hopes up." The look I raked over his body made it clear he fit into that category, then I turned to head toward the room – but Luke grabbed my arm. His fingers were almost as gentle as Death's. That was the only reason I didn't scream.
"I wasn't," he assured me. "I don't typically have a thing for the same girls as my best friend." He barely lifted his eyebrow, daring me to beg him to explain.
I didn't need to. Sam had said something similar. "Figured Nick would have better taste in friends. Let me go."
His hand jerked back quickly, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "Definitely will tip better next time."
"It wasn't the fucking tip!" I snapped. "Has it ever crossed your mind that I might care about more than how much money you have, whether or not your buddy likes my hair, or how many times the weirdo over there eyes me up? I'm not into big, blonde, and psychotic, got it? I just prefer men who have a little respect for the women they talk to, so all three of y'all can fuck off already."
From the expression on his face, he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. "I thought you and Nick were a thing?"
"We are! Your little carbon copy here, and this Mike guy y'all grew up with? Yeah, I don't know what family tree y'all fell from, but it needs to start branching a little, got it? Just stay the fuck away from me. I don't care if that's in class, when I come to see Nick, or any other time you think you could be around me. Don't. And stop grabbing me while you're at it."
Clutching my bag tightly, I stormed through the doorway. Yep, I was going to get to class early, but better that than having to be around this guy one second longer. When he followed me in a few seconds later and sat across the room, I decided he must have gotten the hint.
∞∞∞
Thankfully, Nick didn't ask about my problem with Luke. When I got to Calculus, he was shocked enough to see me that it never came up. Then again, Luke may not have gotten the chance to tell him, but at least I'd be able to figure out why I disliked the guy so much. The truth was I didn't know. He just made my skin crawl when he was around – just like Gabe and Mike. Getting to know them was something I had zero interest in, even if it meant I ended up acting like a shallow bitch.
Unfortunately, I didn't really get the chance to talk to Nick. After class, I had to rush home and get ready for work. A little makeup covered the bags under my eyes. A little more made me look ready to serve drinks on a Wednesday night. Not that the bar would be busy, but I needed every tip I could get. When I reached for a necklace, my fingers closed on a gothic piece made by a friend in high school. A tiny pewter figure looked into a mirror and the reflection showed a skeleton. It seemed all too fitting.
Clasping the choker around my neck, I caught something from the corner of my eye. I spun – seeing nothing. I probably should've turned on some music to keep my mind from playing tricks on me, but it was too late now. I shimmied into the too-tight shirt that served as a uniform and grabbed my keys, heading for the door. I couldn't risk leaving late since I no longer had a car to get me anywhere. I sure as hell wasn't about to call for a ride.
Sam probably wouldn't mind. Nick would say he was glad to help, but I couldn't be sure if he was just polite or would actually mean it. I also didn't know their schedules. They had to have jobs. Renting a house like they had couldn't be cheap. As I put one foot in front of the other, heading back toward the campus, I thought about it. Just for a bit. Ok, for the entire two blocks. I made it with enough time to grab a burger and fries, shove it into my face, and still step behind the counter with two minutes to spare.
What I hadn't been able to do was convince myself that it was ok to put anyone else out over my stupid crap. For my entire life, I'd been the only person I could rely on. Just because a couple of good-looking guys had come to see me in the hospital didn't mean they'd be ok with acting like my babysitters. Besides, I had Death. He'd handle the big things, like making sure I didn't become some horrible statistic.
Today, the bar was hopping. Days like this, I wouldn't have to worry about my amazing interpersonal skills for at least a few more hours. Putting on my best impression of a flirtatious smile, I walked up to the next guy in line and got to work.
"What can I get you?"
The blonde turned – and I recognized his face immediately. I should've known. It seemed Murphy's Law was out to fuck with me a little. Mike, the guy Nick had gone out of his way to warn me about, the cheesy idiot with thoughtless nicknames, smiled at me over the counter. It was the kind of smile you'd expect a cat to have just before it broke the poor mouse's back. His eyes slipped to the necklace at my throat then to my cleavage, making no attempt to be subtle.
"Sex on the beach?" He looked up at me with vivid green eyes. I hadn't noticed the color before, but his eyes were the exact same eerie shade as the two creeps in my Writing class.
"Coming up." I couldn't even force myself to sound happy about it.
I turned, grabbed a bottle from the shelf and whipped it together. Sliding the finished drink across the bar, I quoted him a price and moved on to the next customer as quickly as I could. Naturally, Mike didn't take the hint. Oh no, he found a chair at the edge of the bar, right next to where the glasses were kept, and planted himself there. That meant I had to pass right in front of him over and over.
I tried to ignore it. At first, that wasn't easy, but as I got into the flow, I became too busy to care. Mix, smile, give drink, smile, get tip. That was all I focused on, making sure I did my best to spend more time with the guys who
weren't trying to flirt than those who were. Mike just sat there the whole time, slowly sipping his drink.
"Come here often?" he asked as I made about the fortieth trip down the bar.
"Yeah. It's called a job."
"Ouch. I'm striking out fast on this one, aren't I?"
Yes, yes he was, but I couldn't get away with that while on the clock. Being defensive was a bad habit I'd picked up in the foster system. If I wanted to keep this job, then I had to at least be civil, so I decided to make an effort. A very small one.
"Just trying to keep the clients happy, Mike."
"At least you remember my name." He pushed the empty glass toward me. "Maybe a Jack and Coke this time?"
"I can do that." What I couldn't do was convince my face to smile at him.
I mixed a few drinks for another customer then finished Mike's, taking it over to him. He slid across a few bucks. "Keep the change, sexy."
Wow, a buck and a few quarters for a tip. Such a big spender. It wouldn't have bothered me at all if he hadn't tried to make such a big deal about it, but this guy already had me on edge.
Why was it that when Nick called me sexy, my heart beat faster, but when Mike said it, my skin crawled? What had this guy done to make me hate him so much? For all I knew, he could be a decent enough guy, right? Maybe I had this whole thing all wrong. Clearly, I was the one with the attitude problem, but I was kinda ok with that. I mean, I'm sure the guy who'd put a gun to my head had been "decent" to some people, too.
Mike must have seen me pause. "So what would it take to get a date with you?"
"I'm not really looking," I said quickly, turning back to the next customer.
Being professional sure didn't mean I had to go out with the creep. As far as I cared, he should just be glad I didn't hose him down with the bar tap. Hell, the prick probably thought his tip had bought his way into my pants or something stupid, but that was not how I worked.
Unfortunately, he wasn't dissuaded easily. Biding his time, he didn't say a thing until I ended up back by his corner. "Tomorrow night? Let me take you out for dinner?"
I shook my head, already moving on to the next order. "Sorry. Got a date tomorrow." I didn't, but lying was the best I could come up with to not be an ass about refusing.
I glanced back as the words were out of my mouth just in time to see the rage pass over his face. Mike stood, dropping his drink on the counter hard. Clearly, anything short of blind acceptance was not at all what he wanted.
"It's Nick, isn't it?" He leaned closer, pointing at my necklace, making me take a step back at the sudden change in him. "He's not what he seems, Sienna. That bastard is lying to you."
That's when the jock I was trying to get a beer for decided to step in. Turning, he put the full width of his shoulders between me and the asshole who wasn't taking no for an answer. Then he crossed his arms.
"Back off, bud. If the bartender said no, then you need to respect that."
"Fuck off," Mike snapped at him. "This is between her and me."
"Not anymore." He looked over Mike's head and waved. "See, I know the bouncer at this place, and what you're doing? Not cool."
"Oh, I don't give up easy. I know what I want, Sienna," Mike sneered over the guy's shoulder.
The jock stayed there, planted like a protective shield until Tom came and escorted Mike out of the bar. The moment he turned back, I slid an ice cold bottle of beer over to him. "Thanks, man. This one's on me for being my hero."
He lifted the bottle and tilted it toward me. "Anytime, hun. Try not to work too hard."
The truth was I didn't even care about that. My mind was stuck on something Mike had said. He claimed Nick was lying to me, but I had no idea what he meant. I didn't even know Nick that well. Oh, I wanted to, but we'd only gone out once. Twice if you counted ditching class for a coffee.
Clearly, there was no love lost between any of those guys. They'd probably dated the same girl at some time, or tried to, and were still fighting it out like a couple of high school boys. Nick, at least, had a little more class. Mike seemed to think treating me like a piece of meat was the quickest way into my pants, and he was oh so wrong. Nothing turned me off like a self-assured asshole, and that's exactly how Mike was looking right about now.
Maybe I'd been right to go with my gut after all.
Chapter 11
The next morning, it started raining again. Walking to school in this weather was miserable. I half expected Nick to skip Art History, but he was there – and only slightly damp. The fashion of the day was shown off in party-colored raincoats and pocket-sized umbrellas. It was the wet socks that made it miserable. College air conditioning was set on "frostbite" and by the time class was over, I'd just started shivering.
With a promise from Nick for a ride home after Drawing, I hurried up the stairs. The storm outside made the light in the room drab and oppressive, lending an air of darkness to the still life set up. Sam and I were amused and spent the class trying to create something more macabre and ominous than the other. It wasn't easy to do with a roll of paper towels and some bad pottery. When the power flickered, it only helped maintain the ambiance.
The rain was still coming down hard when class let out. I figured Sam would get a ride home with Nick too, but he bailed, saying he had to meet with one of his professors. That left me alone and unwilling to brave the weather that had flash flood warnings dinging my phone. Ah, fall in the south, right? It was almost like monsoon season some days.
I had Calculus homework to finish, though, and a basic understanding of it after Nick's help. Heading to the common area of the Art Building, I decided that would be a good way to pass the time. Just inside the main doors, the foyer had a selection of tables set up for students to do their homework, and I had plenty to be done. I took a spot off to the side that was still visible from the entrance. Hopefully, Nick would see me if I got sucked into a calculation.
I'd almost finished two of the problems when the sound of the door made me look up. At first, I smiled, thinking it was Nick, but as the man headed toward me, I wasn't so sure. His long, rain-soaked duster was almost a robe. The hood was pulled low over his face. And those lips? The clothes weren't quite right, but I'd never forget those lips.
So many times, I'd seen him, but never like this. Never in my world. With each step he took closer, the more sure I became that this was really happening. I sucked in a breath, refusing to even blink for fear that he'd vanish.
"Hello, little dove," he said softly, the voice missing that strange resonance from the corridor.
And the thunder rumbled again. The lights flickered out, shrouding the building in darkness. Lightning flashed, the light coming through the large glass doors. The purplish-white glare illuminated his jaw like a snapshot. I couldn't even breathe. The color was all wrong, but the angles and lines were exactly right. It was him. It had to be him.
My mind whirled as I waited for the generators to kick on, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say. All I could do was stare with wide, shocked eyes. My breath hung in my chest as the man from my dreams stared quietly back. This was impossible, but he was real, and he was finally here.
For a moment, nothing at all happened. Only the sound of water dripping from his coat broke the silence. I couldn't even convince myself to speak, terrified I was wrong.
Slowly, he reached up and pushed back the hood, his lips parting in a smile so sweet I thought I'd have to die to see it again. The lightning flashed one more time as I sought his eyes. I found a beautifully dark abyss instead of the universe I'd expected. When it flashed a third time, my heart clenched painfully – just as the emergency lights clicked on, turning my fantasy world into a soft, yellow, and dim college foyer. Nick stared back at me. His face was carefully neutral.
I swallowed.
"You ok?" he asked.
I took a long, shuddering breath and nodded, my eyes locked on his lips. Why hadn't I seen it before? Maybe it was the difference in color, or maybe it was
because I hadn't expected him to actually be real, but I couldn't deny it anymore. Words failed me, so I said nothing, simply reached into my bag for the sketchbook I always kept close. In the dim light, I had to dig. The sound of my rummaging was like a wild animal trying to escape. I was right. I knew it; I just had to prove it to myself.
Nick sighed and grabbed the homework I'd left open on the table, turning it around as he sat across from me. Reaching over, he grabbed my pencil, twisting it in his fingers as he smiled. Without saying a word, he just inspected the thing that had started out as a drawing before turning his attention to the problems I'd been trying to work through. He seemed oblivious to my inner conflict.
Finally, I found it. Frantically, I flipped to the first page, then the next, then the one after that, looking up at him between each. It was the same. In black and white, rather than color, the lines were the exact same. His lips, just like the ones in my sketchbook, curled, but his eyes never left my assignment. I was sitting across the table from Death. That, or I was completely and totally insane.
"You can't always make the world fit into the rules you want," he said softly, erasing something on the page.
"Nick?"
His eyes caught mine for a second, then returned to the page. "And you're probably going to need a little more help with Calculus." His voice was rich and soft. Like Death's, but without the resonance that came between worlds.
I swallowed. "Nick?"
That smile returned, his perfectly even teeth exactly like I remembered. "Not my best light?"
I dropped my sketchbook onto the table. Death's face looked back from under the cowl, staring up at his own reflection in Nick.
"I hadn't seen you in a hood before."
He looked at me again. "I think you have."
Ice flowed over my skin, pinpricks following in its wake, and my mouth fell slack, too shocked to even gasp. I swallowed and licked at my lips, begging my body not to fail me, hoping my voice wouldn't crack. "Why are you here?"
