by Lanie Jordan
“Sure.”
“I’ve been…moody. Like, getting angry to the point I’m shaking for little to no reason. Is that my DNA, too, or is that—” I broke off as someone knocked on my door, and then shook my fist at it. “Hold on, sorry. Someone’s at my door.”
“Actually, Jade, I need to go. I have work I need to finish before I leave for the night. Can we discuss this another time?”
Damnit! “Yeah, of course. Thanks for helping, Dr. Cherry.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon, Jade.”
“Okay. B—” She hung up on me.
I glared at the phone, and then I glared at the door. I sighed. Linc. Did he think I was going to run away? I shook my head as I walked to the door and yanked it open. “I’m not running—Tasha.” I blinked back in surprise. My surprise turned to concern when I realized her eyes were red and cheeks wet with tears. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I’d known Tasha for almost two years, and in that time, I’d only ever seen her cry once—when she hurt Chris. As much as she chatted or nagged me about this or that, she was actually a pretty quiet person.
When she still hadn’t answered me, I pulled her into the room, kicked the door shut behind me, and led her to my desk. I sat her down and took a seat on my bed. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Chris and I had a fight.”
“Why? What happened?”
The tears came down harder now. “I don’t know. I really don’t. We were talking, and then we were fighting.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. He’s been freaking out since the beginning of Phase, ever since the fireworks thing. And it’s even worse now since that guy snuck onto the property and got him in trouble. You’ve seen him and know how paranoid he’s being. And I told him that.” She sighed heavily and looked up at me with puffy eyes. “It came out worse than I meant it to. A lot worse than I meant it to.”
“What’d you say?”
She grimaced. “I told him he was being stupid about it. Except it was more of a quiet yell than just saying it.”
“He’ll get over it. Everyone fights.”
“Well, it went a bit further than that. Because he yelled back at me and said I was being stupid in class.”
My jaw dropped. I sputtered for a full thirty seconds before I could get anything out. “But you’ve been better since he became your partner.”
“I know! Not great, but I only hit him every once in a while now, and before, I was hitting someone at least once an hour.”
“I can’t believe he said that. What a jerk.”
She rolled her eyes. “Exactly. He said ever since the accident that I’ve been a mess. Oh! And get this—he said I’m too good to be so bad. What the hell kind of thing is that to say? Too good to be bad at something.” She made an angry face. “Ha.”
I sighed. “Maybe he meant it in a good way.”
“Oh?” If her tone had been measured in temperature ranges, I’d say it dropped a good fifty degrees. “How can you call someone stupid in a good way?”
Great choice of words, Jade. “I didn’t mean the stupid thing. I meant—”
“Well, excuse the hell out of me. We can’t all be Jade Hall, Prospect of the damn century.”
A ball of ice formed in my stomach and spread everywhere. “That’s not fair.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” She stormed to her feet. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“Then can come find me when you’re up to acting like it.”
Tasha was halfway to the door before I caught up with her. I blocked her path with seconds to spare. “Sit down, Tasha. Let me explain.”
“I don’t need you to explain. I’ll just go talk to Linc, at least he knows how to act like a friend.”
I wanted to be angry with her, but she was right. I wasn’t exactly Friend of The Year. Pink was her favorite color and she was obsessed with shoes and all things fashion. My lack of fashion sense was more strange to her than my demony DNA. I knew little things about her but nothing major. Since I came here, I hadn’t exactly gone out of my way to get know…anyone, really, except Linc. With that knowledge came guilt, and a lot of it. It settled in my stomach, heavy as lead. “I deserve that,” I said.
Her glare faded after a second. “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right. I’m not very good at this friend thing.”
“You’re fine.” She wiped her face. “I’m the mess.”
“Come on.” I led her back to the chair. “Let me explain what I meant, okay?” When she nodded, I sat on the edge of the bed. “In class, you’re—”
“A mess.”
“Not a mess. But you are kind of klutzy.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Sorry. I’m not great at these talks. Just ask Linc. I’m the mess.”
“Well, go on then.” She fixed me with a prim look and folded her arms. “Fumble it some more.”
The smile spread before I could stop it. “I’m sure I will. What I’m trying to say is, during our first Phase, when you practiced outside of class, you were always really good. You knew exactly what you were doing, you had no doubts, no problems. In class, you second guessed what you were supposed to do or you forgot altogether. It was like you were scared or nervous, but you’re the most outgoing person I know. You tell everyone how it is, what it should be, and you don’t care if they agree or not because you figure you’re right.” I paused. “You usually are, but we try not to tell you.”
That got a laugh out of her. “You’re right. I am usually right.”
“See? And you’re humble, too.” I smiled. “The point is, when Chris took over as your partner, you were great inside and outside of class. But since he got hurt, it’s like you’ve reverted back to the old Tasha, the one who thinks she’s bad when she isn’t. I think that’s probably what he meant, only he said it badly. Like me.” I gave her a pointed stare. “But he was still being a jerk when he said it, so he loses points.”
Tasha didn’t smile again like I’d hoped. If anything, she actually looked more unhappy.
“I’m sorry, I suck at this friend thing. But whatever he said and however he meant it, he was out of line and he was a jerk.”
She shook her head softly. “You don’t suck at this. I don’t need patted on the shoulder and told ‘there, there’, even though that’s partly what I want. But it’s not what I need.” Her shoulders moved restlessly and her eyes brightened with tears. “I hate that he’s right. But he is.” She let out a loud breath that sounded as miserable as she looked. “So are you.”
“No, he wasn’t. At all.”
“You don’t understand.” The tears in her eyes spilled over again and made my heart ache for her. “We’re all connected because of demons. They did something to us or hurt someone we know. We all share that in common.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going, so I only nodded and waited.
“Before I came here, I lived in a rough neighborhood. Grew up there. Not because we had to, obviously. Your dad is a head scientist somewhere, he’s bringing in the cash. But our family had lived in the same house for over fifty years and it was home. But because it was a bad neighborhood, he insisted on some basic defense training. A little karate, some kick boxing. I was a damn good fighter and ended up in competitions.”
“Bad ass as always.”
“Basically. But I was that girl, Jade, the girl who never lost or backed down from a fight. The girl who was invincible. Until.”
I nodded my understanding. “Until you weren’t.”
“Exactly. I wasn’t like the rest of you. The demon didn’t find me. It wasn’t a case of wrong place, wrong time. Or not entirely.”
“Tasha—” I’d started to reach for her, but she shook her head.
“Let me get this out, okay?” She took a deep breath. “The point is, I knew how to defend myself. Or so I thought. I didn’t go looking for the demon—didn’t know they existed, to be ho
nest, since my dad never said—but when I found one attacking someone, I jumped in. I didn’t call for help because I wasn’t scared. I was a fighter, wasn’t I? I could handle some creep in a costume hitting a woman.”
“Tasha, you don’t have to explain to anyone, least of all to me.”
“Don’t I? Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has a story they need to tell.”
“Okay.” I grabbed her hand before she could protest this time and gave it a hard squeeze. Even when she tried pulling it back, I held on.
“I saw the guy hitting the woman. Something else my dad taught me, to stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves for whatever reason. I wasn’t allowed to start fights in my house, but I was expected to finish them.” She let out a steadying breath. “I tried fighting the guy—the demon, but I still thought it was a guy until later—and I got my butt kicked up, down, and sideways.”
“You tried to defend someone. There’s nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing.”
“No? Trying isn’t doing. I stormed up to the guy, so full of myself and what I’d learned. I knew karate, damnit. I’d had kickboxing training. I could kick ass. And you know what I did? I panicked, that’s what.”
“Tasha. It was a demon. Even if you didn’t know it at the time, you can’t expect to—”
“Jade, I hit the girl I was trying to help. I went to kick the demon, missed, and got her instead. I hurt her and not the demon.”
“It was an accident. Nothing more. You have to know that.”
“I do. Just like I know that girl wouldn’t have been as hurt if I hadn’t helped the demon out. If I would have just called for help instead of thinking I could handle it. My pride got that girl hurt. Not the demon.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, but unlike before, these trailed down her cheeks. I reached for her and pulled her to my side. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said, my tone hard. My own tears burned in the back of my throat, but I forced them back. If I started crying, then we’d both be a slobbery mess and I couldn’t help her like that.
“I hurt her, Jade.”
“Did she die?”
Tasha sniffled. “No, but—”
“But nothing. You did what you could, which was more than anyone else. More than most.” I stroked a hand down her head.
“I see her in class. When I’m there, holding a weapon or trying to fight, I see her and I panic. I do what I did that stupid day and hit someone else—usually the person I’m trying to avoid.”
I couldn’t imagine that kind of guilt. Living with my own memories was hard enough. I tried not thinking about the day I’d found my family often, but it crept its way into my system when I least expected it. Thankfully, it didn’t happen daily like it used to. And I honestly couldn’t imagine being in a situation where I saw it every day. “Have you talked to anyone about this? Chris or Greene?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t want them to know. You’re the first I’ve told. I never even told my dad. He just thinks I was an unlucky bystander.”
“Look, I’m the last person who’d normally suggest this, but I think you need to talk to someone about it—even if it’s only Chris. He’s completely smitten with you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “‘Smitten’?”
I shrugged. “I thought you’d appreciate the word.”
“It does sound nice.” There was a pause. “Do you really think so?”
“Pfft. Please. He’s been a goner since the end of Phase One, even if he didn’t realize it yet. And Phase Two? He volunteered to be your partner, even after knowing about the…mishaps…that happen occasionally—”
“All the time.”
“Sometimes,” I added with a stern look. “If that’s not smittenry, I don’t know what it is.”
“I don’t think ‘smittenry’ is a word.”
“Well, today, in Tasha and Jade land, it is. So there.” Now I rolled my eyes. “You’re missing my very valid point. You guys are sweet on each other, and if you haven’t dropped the big L word yet, I’ll eat my shirt. And yes, he was a jerk today, but he’s a guy. He’s allowed to have jerk moments. Just like we’re allowed to have—”
“Bitch moments?”
“Well, basically. Everyone fights. Me and Linc had that thing last week, and you remember our huge fight last Phase. We were both grumpy messes for weeks, so I don’t recommend going that route. Go find Chris and talk to him. Explain what you meant when you told him he was being stupid, because I know you didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Make him apologize for being a jerk and then all will be well in Tasha and Jade Land.”
“And if it’s not?”
“If it’s not, I’ll kick his butt. Or you can kick his butt now that he’s trapped being your partner, and you won’t even have to feel guilty about it.”
“I do like the way you think, Jade Hall.”
“Why thank you, Miss Monroe.”
Tasha sighed. “I guess I should tell him, huh? You told Linc about…what happened with you, didn’t you?”
“Well, told is a weak word. It was more I blubbered on him for a while and yelled about it with an audience of Doc.”
“That bad, huh?”
I nodded. “Worse. It was…ugly. But he held up,” I added, remembering the way I’d acted toward him before that day. Remembering the way he’d been there for me. “He came through. Surprised me.”
She gave me a look. “But Chris isn’t Linc.”
“No, he’s not,” I agreed. “Do you want him to be?”
“Hell, no. Linc is too damn pushy for me.”
I fought a smile. Linc was too pushy for her? Well, if that’s not the definition of ironic. “He’s just pushy enough for me. But the point is, he’s not Linc. Chris volunteered to be your partner when no one else was brave enough to—even Linc.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, just sat quietly and stared at me. Finally, she sighed. “You might be right.”
“Of course I am.”
“I see you’re wearing the humble hat, too.”
“Well, you can’t get all the good stuff. You’ve got the fashion sense. We can share humble for a while.”
This time, her sigh was part laugh and she shook her head. “Thanks, Jade.”
“Hey, I don’t mind leaving the shoe obsession to you. Have you seen Linc whenever you mention a pair?” I pointed between my eyes. “He gets a little tick right here and—”
The laugh was full blown. “Not for that. For listening to me babble and cry on your shoulder—literally.”
“Don’t thank me. I did it for me. I can’t handle tears.”
“Sometimes,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t know why I like you.”
“Sure you do. It’s because…” I frowned. “For some reason we’ll both remember soon.” I squeezed her hand and opened my mouth to say something, but a knock at the door stopped me. “Now what?”
I got up and answered it. This time, I found Chris standing there, looking almost as miserable as Tasha had looked when she’d first gotten here. Almost.
He barged in. “I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth. He faced me and gave me a small, sheepish smile. “Sorry, Jade.”
I just shrugged because his attention was already back on Tasha. She had her arms crossed over her chest, looking formidable and seriously stubborn again.
“I’m sorry,” I heard him say again. “I didn’t mean what I said. Forgive me?”
Scratching my head, I grabbed the door. “I’ll, er, give you guys a few minutes.” I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. It didn’t hit me until I was standing in the hall that I’d give them my room instead of making them go to one of theirs.
I’d give them ten minutes, I decided, then I’d make sure the crisis was over and send them on their way. With nothing better to do, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor. I had a brief moment of déjà vu remembering I’d done the same thing in the elevator when I’d been trapped. But at lea
st then I’d had the brains to grab my music player. I had nothing on me, not even my ID.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, picturing them fighting it out. Well, picturing Tasha fighting it out and Chris kissing some major ass. He was definitely the more levelheaded of the two. Like Linc—he was the levelheaded one out of our coupling. Tasha was more like me, though she tended to have a flair for the dramatic.
Had she always been like that? I wondered. I couldn’t quite picture her any other way than what I saw of her now. Shoe-obsessed, sassy, but still kind. I couldn’t picture her as a fighter. That Tasha, the one she told me about tonight, seemed so foreign to me, like a completely different person from a completely different time.
Then again, wasn’t I a different person from before the demon attack? Hadn’t I changed, too? Tasha had started out a fighter and ended up not liking it or not trusting herself to do it. I hadn’t been a fighter, but now I was.
Would I have ended up more like Tasha if the attack hadn’t happened? Would I like shoes and clothes instead of knives and swords? Would I have wanted to be a cheerleader instead of a demon hunter?
I couldn’t picture that Jade anymore than I could picture the old Tasha.
What-if games weren’t great. That was something all the teachers had mentioned at some point. Don’t play what-if games, because it doesn’t change what happened; it only changes what happens next. If you make a mistake, learn from it, and if you don’t, learn from that, too. But never play what-ifs if you like your sanity.
“Sanity is overrated,” I muttered as a door down the hall opened.
I glanced over and smiled. The smile turned to a wince when I found Linc looking down at me. “Lock yourself out again?”
“Yes. No. Kind of. Maybe?”
He blinked at me. “I’ll say it again, you’re a confusing one, Hall.”
“Yeah, yeah, I am.” I couldn’t deny it, either. “Tasha is in there with Chris.”
He strolled over easily and sat beside me. “Are they making up?”
“Yeah. Wait, how’d you know?”
“Chris talked to me about it.”
