Out Of The Ashes

by Diana Gardin

  He moved, coming to lie next to me on the pillows again. He rubbed my stomach gently, and I opened one eye to look at him.

  “Was that…a normal reaction?” I asked him. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Um, that was an amazing reaction,” he answered, grinning. “I just helped the girl I love fall to pieces with my tongue. I will never--I repeat, never--get sick of doing that. Ever.”

  I smiled and sat up in bed. “Good, because I definitely want to do that again later. Let’s go eat some breakfast.”

  Clay

  I’d gone and fallen in love with Ms. Right. Sitting across from her in the little diner across the street from campus squeezed into a booth with our friends, I kept pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t asleep somewhere, dreaming an impossibly vivid drunk requiem.

  I hadn’t expected to meet someone in college that I could picture spending my life with. And I was still afraid that this couldn’t possibly last forever, that this feeling must be temporary. That I’d turn back into the old Clay at any moment, only focused on fun and living in the moment.

  But knowing the way I felt when I was with Paige, the way my mind crawled back to her the moment I left her, I knew I was a goner.

  “So Paige declared on a major this week,” Gillian announced to the table.

  Tima glanced at Paige. “That’s great! What is it?”

  “Psychology,” Paige replied.

  She shot an irritated glance at Gillian for placing her at the center of everyone’s attention. I loved that about her. She didn’t need the spotlight, but she always ended up usurping attention naturally.

  I studied her, wondering if she would ever share her story with anyone else. The fact that she wanted to help people, kids going through the same type of trauma she did only made her more incredible in my eyes. I wanted everyone to know how inspiring she was, but it was her story to tell.

  Rob leaned in. “Any particular reason you’re going with Psych?”

  Leave it to Rob to ask the tough questions, to care about the reasons behind a decision.

  Paige considered her hands clasped on the table. “I want to help people who have been through something traumatic. I want to help them learn to live with the pain and find strength to continue with their lives, and live successfully.”

  Her voice was barely a whisper. I placed my hand over hers, which were clasped on the table.

  “Well, I think that’s great,” Gillian stated, squeezing Paige’s arm. “If anyone can do that, it’s you.”

  “Why?” asked Drew.

  I saw Paige lean forward, letting her hair fall into her eyes to cover her face. That was my cue.

  “Hey, what’s everyone eating?”

  The conversation turned to food orders, and our server arrived to ask us what we wanted.

  I felt warm skin brush mine and looked up to see Paige’s emerald eyes focused on my face.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  I squeezed her hand in mine and didn’t let go. She never had to thank me for protecting her. It was my new favorite job.

  When our server arrived, I spluttered Coke onto the table when I saw Drew’s plate. It was loaded down with eggs, hash browns, bacon and sausage and ham, and fruit. Then the waiflike girl who was already struggling under the weight of our table’s tray handed him another two plates, laden with pancakes and French toast.

  “Dude. Seriously?” Rob asked, disgust curling his lip.

  “What?” Drew replied, truly bewildered.

  Gillian gagged. “Drew, you’re not seriously going to eat all of that.”

  “Of course I am,” Drew answered indignantly. “I ordered it, didn’t I? I’m a growing boy.”

  “You are not,” Gillian shot back. “You’re a grown-ass man. Is that really how you always eat, Drew?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  His voice was muffled by a huge bite of pancake and egg. He grinned at Gillian while his mouth was still full.

  Gillian deliberately pushed her plate away and eyed the rest of us, her face drawn and defiant. “I cannot possibly eat with that pig sitting here demolishing that insane amount of food. It’s beyond disgusting.”

  “Gill, just ignore him,” Paige giggled. “Look how skinny Drew is. He can handle the calories.”

  “Yeah,” Tima piped up, eating mouthfuls of toast like a bird. “If he doesn’t die of a heart attack first, he might actually gain a few pounds to catch up with the rest of us.”

  “Drew,” Gillian said suddenly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you hear that?” She leaned into him, leaving almost no space between them, and Drew was momentarily distracted from his food.

  He gulped. “Hear what?”

  She leaned even closer, placing her head against his chest. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

  “Shhh. It’s your arteries! I can hear them clogging as we speak. Listen! They’re crying out for help!”

  She pushed him and leaned back over to her own place at the table.

  We all laughed, the easy banter of our group feeling comfortable and lazy on a Saturday morning.

  That is, until Hannah Davis walked into the diner.

  The bell above the door tinkled cheerfully as she walked in, closely followed by two of her usual worshipping cronies. Our table groaned in unison, and Hannah’s eagle-sharp eyes darted in our direction.

  She curled her lips into a sneer and made a beeline for our table.

  “Look who it is, ladies,” she said, her voice as sharp as a blade.

  “Who? Your fiancé and his hobag?” asked the tall willow of a girl whose name escaped me.

  “Why, yes, Madison, it is. Only we can’t call him that in public, remember? It embarrasses him.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

  “Can you believe this bitch?” Drew asked, mumbling through another mouthful of food.

  “Excuse me?” Hannah asked in a steely voice. “Bitch? The only bitch I see here is the one that stole my boyfriend.”

  She aimed a white-hot glare at Paige. Paige stiffened, staring back.

  “How many times do I have to tell you, Hannah?” I said through gritted teeth. “We aren’t together. We never were.”

  “Yeah?” Hannah shot back. “Tell that to your dick. Because he was real happy about all the nights we spent together. Even if you want to pretend now that you weren’t.”

  Twenty-Three

  Paige

  Nausea rolled in my belly. Thinking about making love to Clay last night, I imagined him having the exact same experiences with Hannah. I covered my mouth with my hand.

  Of course he had. I knew from the start I wasn’t the only girl he’d ever had in his life. So last night when he told me he loved me, I’d conveniently forgotten the fact that he had touched other girls the same way he’d been touching me.

  “Remember, Clay?” Hannah asked.

  She lowered her voice to a seductive level and the oiliness in my stomach spread, tendrils of it seeping into far corners of my abdomen.

  “All of those nights we spent together, our hands dong half the work and our lips doing the other half?”

  “Oh shut up, Hannah,” Gillian snapped. “You look desperate right now, trying to hold onto someone who clearly wants no part of you. Just go crawl back into the hole you just vacated. Leave Clay and Paige alone.”

  One of the girls flanking Hannah, a platinum blond I knew from our class together was named Brynn, hissed at Gillian. “You shut up, bitch. Hannah’s not done talking.”

  Gillian tossed her chestnut hair angrily. “She is at this table. We aren’t interested in anything you have to say, Hannah. So take your jealousy and shove it.”

  “Oh, I think little Paigey here might be interested in something I have to say,” Hannah drawled in a singsong voice. “A small college town in the South isn’t the best place to try and keep secrets, Paige. Everyone can see your Frankenstein scars, even when you pretend they don’t exist. So I got to wondering
about them. And when I started asking around, it wasn’t too hard to find someone who knew about you from your hometown.”

  A chill trickled down my spine. The last thing I wanted was for someone like Hannah Davis to find out about the very worst thing that ever happened to me and use it as a weapon.

  Because that’s what kind of person Hannah was. She ran around, gathering ammunition to use against her enemies. Stockpiling weaponry in case of future need.

  “You can’t hide things, Paige dear, especially when your hometown is only a short drive away.” Hannah focused all of her attention on me, a gleeful smile covering her pretty face.

  The two blondes at her sides smiled too, snide grins that made me want to crawl under the table.

  Clay stood up, looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. “Get out of here, Hannah. Now.”

  He jabbed a finger toward the door.

  “Why?” she pouted. “Are you afraid I’m going to spill the beans on little Paige’s big secret? Do you even know what it is, Clay?”

  She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him. Her stringent perfume attacked my nostrils, making my nose hairs burn.

  “I told you you’d be sorry, Clay.”

  He gestured toward the door again. “Get the fuck out.”

  “Okay,” Hannah said. Her dark red hair flew around her face, as fierce as the fire that burned down my house. “I don’t want to eat here anyway. The food sucks.”

  She tossed her flaming hair over one shoulder.

  “But Paige,” she said, leveling her gaze at me again. “I’m going to tell every single person on this campus not to trust you. You can’t put your faith in a girl who would burn down her parent’s house and kill her whole family, now can you?”

  The words hung in the air a moment, unfurling slowly like wisps of smoke drifting in a lazy wind.

  Drew grabbed the back of Gillian’s shirt as she lunged out of the booth, causing her to jerk back into her seat. She glared at Drew. He rubbed her back consolingly.

  Tima’s mouth dropped open and Gillian jabbed her furiously. She shut it quickly, but not before I saw the appalled look in her almond-shaped eyes. Even Rob stopped chewing for a second, the semi-ground food sitting on his tongue like a hunk of forgotten trash.

  Clay was so pissed his whole face was turning red and he took a step toward Hannah, his expression a mask of murderous anger.

  “Y’all have a nice breakfast, now,” Hannah sang.

  She waved a hand at Clay as she began walking toward the door. “I’ll be seeing you, sweetie.”

  Madison and Brynn strode after Hannah, leaving a swash of cheap perfume in their wake.

  And the rest of us just sat in stunned silence, staring at our food.

  ~**~

  Explaining to my friends was difficult and humiliating. I still wasn’t used to talking about what I had endured, and I was being forced to do it before I was ready, thanks to Hannah. But still, they were my friends so they understood. Even Drew, who took a little longer to figure it all out, took it in stride.

  But Hannah was going to spread this rumor through the whole campus like a dirty bomb. She’d said as much. And there was no way I was going to be able to explain it away to everyone. The idea of people sneaking sideways glances at me, thinking, “There goes the girl who burned down her house!” as they walked by drove me insane.

  And infuriated me.

  Hannah was going to pay for this.

  Clay

  Hannah was going to pay for this.

  I felt so awful for Paige, having to divulge the details surrounding the most devastating period in her life. The fire hadn’t even been her fault. But Hannah was turning her into a villain. And I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

  Secretly, I wanted Hannah gone for another reason. I didn’t want to have to tell Paige the truth. That things with Hannah and I had been more serious than I’d let on.

  I hadn’t been completely honest when I’d told Paige that Hannah had only been a quick fuck. We had slept together, yeah, many times. But I had also taken Hannah home to my parents. I had promised her that one day we’d have a future together.

  In my defense, I had never loved Hannah. She was just the girl that I kept going back to. In my immature mind, I’d thought that meant it was always going to be that way. And that eventually, I’d have to put a ring on it.

  That was before I’d met Paige. Beautiful, scarred, innocent Paige who’d been through so much and still remained so sweet and good-natured. She’d taught me what real love was, and now I knew there was no way I’d be willing to give her up.

  But Hannah was becoming a definite roadblock to my happiness, and I had to figure out a solution.

  “Rob,” I said, knocking on his bedroom door.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk man. Now.”

  Rob opened the door and gestured for me to enter his room. He sat on his bed and I sank into his desk chair, swiveling around to face him and running a hand absently over my head.

  “Hannah’s gone too far,” I said flatly.

  “That was rough at breakfast this morning,” Rob admitted, rubbing his stubbly chin with one hand.

  “More than rough,” I argued. “Paige is fragile. I mean she isn’t, but she is. Do you know what I mean? She’s been through a lot, and in spite of it she’s still alive and kicking. The last thing I want is for Hannah to be the nightmare that finally pushes her over the edge. It would be my fault. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t even know Hannah.”

  “That’s true,” Rob agreed. “You’ve got to protect what’s yours.”

  He was quiet for a minute, still rubbing his chin. “But Hannah thinks you’re hers, man.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s my fault, too, right?”

  “You lead her on. I know you didn’t think it was a big deal at the time, but she got attached. Obviously more attached than you were aware of.”

  “So now what the fuck do I do?” I asked in frustration.

  “You’re doing the right thing. Be totally honest with her. No details about you and Paige, but you have to let Hannah know there is no possible future between you two, even if Paige weren’t in the picture. Because if she thinks she’d have a chance without Paige around…well, you’ve seen ‘Obsessed,’ right?”

  “Oh, shit,” I said, letting my face fall into my hands. “This is a mess. Utter madness, dude.”

  Rob nodded sympathetically. “And you’d better start cleaning house. Before someone gets hurt.”

  Twenty-Four

  Paige

  I needed a job. I had money from all of my parents’ life insurance saved snugly in a bank account, but I wasn’t ready to use it yet. Not all of it. I wanted to work while I was in school, to pay for things I needed to buy on a daily and monthly basis, and use the insurance money for the big things. I had paid for my family’s funerals, bought my car (a very practical Toyota), and paid the year’s rent upfront. The rest I was saving.

  So searching through the campus classifieds online, I decided to go in person to apply for a student assistant position in the Psychology Department. What better way to get started in my field than by working with the professors?

  “Hello,” a young, pixie-faced woman at the desk in the waiting area of the Psychology building greeted me. “Can I help you?”

  Her short bob haircut wobbled cheerfully as she spoke.

  “Hi,” I said, smiling at her. “I wanted to apply for the assistant position I saw advertised online.”

  “Perfect,” she said brightly. “Stay right here, I’ll get the department head, Professor Schilling.”

  Oh. I hadn’t expected an on-the-spot interview, but I’d definitely take it.

  A minute later, she returned from the back offices located behind her desk. “He’ll be right out.”

  “Thank you.”

  I looked around the tiny space, zeroed in on a comfy looking overstuffed chair with a table of magazines beside it. I sat, ope
ning up a copy of Psychology Today. I flipped through the magazine, scanning an article about what happy people do differently than the rest of us depressed junkies.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Schilling,” a deep male voice greeted me.