by C. G. Blaine
“This is Cass,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “He’s my…”
Watcher?
Guardian Angel?
“Friend from high school.” He looks over, eyes narrowed at me. “Just moved to town.”
“Right.” Terra looks back and forth between us. “Well, would you like to come to dinner with us? Or if I’m interrupting something, I could—”
“No. He was just leaving, right?”
His jaw tenses as he moves toward the door. “Nice to meet you…”
“Terra,” she says. “If you don’t have any plans tomorrow night, the bar on McKinley hosts a great St. Patrick’s Day party. You should come. Hannah’s my date, but I’d be willing to share.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“See you soon,” she calls after him as he walks out, then her head whips around, crazy eyes on me. “Spill.”
Once again, I choose my words very carefully. “It’s nothing to be excited about. He’s known me for a long time and helped me through some stuff.”
“Is he why you aren’t with Gabe?”
I shake my head, not wanting to say anything more that may lead to an actual lie.
Her lips purse as she studies me, but then she shrugs. “Well, I hope he comes tomorrow night. He’s fun to look at.” She holds her arm out for me. “Shall we go eat fried food we’ll instantly regret?”
And that’s exactly what we do. Eat and regret. We stay at the restaurant, drinking milkshakes like we’re in a fifties’ soda shop after school, giggling about nothing. It’s one of the most normal moments I’ve had in a while, and I need it.
When we finally make it back to the dorms, I shower and get ready for bed. Terra’s already asleep. I check out the window. Cass is leaning against his bike, and a part of me I didn’t even realize was tense relaxes. I crawl into my bed for the first time in almost a week, snuggling down under the covers.
It’s harsher this time, the blackness somehow even more void of light. The spirals branch out, each one stretching sharp points toward me. They slice at my skin until blood runs down my arms, dripping from my fingertips. One wraps around my neck, squeezing until I can’t breathe.
A warm hand slips around me, drawing me out of the dream. I wake in a panic, and Cass is there. He’s lying on his side between me and the wall, pulling my body closer to his. I press my forehead against his chest and bite back a sob. I focus on each of his long, slow breaths until mine match. As my heartbeat calms, he readjusts, resting his chin on top of my head and his arm over my hip. It doesn’t take long for me to relax against him. Safe from everything.
The ball shows Hannah on her bed, out of the line of fire, while Terra strews clothes around their room. Her roommate’s in a lime-green bra, her tits bouncing around with each item she flings.
She hit on me once at a party last year, cornering me in her miniskirt and low-cut top. As tempting as her offer was, I managed to keep it in my pants. It took me a week to time Hannah’s adrenaline right, so I could make Terra forget my face.
An hour later, they finally deem themselves worthy of a bar full of horny college guys, drunk in the name of a holiday that’s deeply rooted in the spreading of Christianity across Ireland. The guy’s name wasn’t even Patrick, for Christ’s sake. He went through some heavy shit, though, and after hearing his story, I wanted to get black-out drunk to forget, so the holiday makes sense in that regard.
I have no plans on going inside when they get to the bar. It’s crowded and loud, and Hannah and I have practically been on top of each other for five days straight. If I don’t get some space from her, I’ll wind up doing the demons’ job for them. Whatever happens inside, I can monitor perfectly fine through the ball. But by the time Hannah’s two shots in, I’m overanalyzing every shift in the shadows, convinced a portal’s opening, and waiting for the light.
Shit.
I have no plans on joining them when I get inside the bar. I walk around the edge, avoiding the booth where they sit and head toward the bar for a drink. All the barstools are taken but one down at the far end, and I immediately know why it stays empty. I slide into it and slap the man next to me on the shoulder. His dirty gray hair, rip in the sleeve of his green coat, and his cheek flat against the bar top are more than enough for me to recognize my good ol’ buddy Carl.
Eventually, the bartender makes his way down. I order us a round and wait for him to walk away before I finish clearing up a few misconceptions about the holiday we’re celebrating.
“There were never any snakes in Ireland for Saint non-Patrick to banish. It was a metaphor for the Druids, whose magic is one of the most useful tools humanity ever received, by the way. My brother Samy had a hand in teaching man that one.”
My phone vibrates, and I look down at Hannah’s text.
Where are you?
I pull the ball out under the bar to check on her. She’s looking around, all alone at the booth. It doesn’t take me long to find Terra by the pool tables with a guy pushed against her backside as he teaches her how to shoot. Not wanting a repeat of the Halloween party where Hannah sneaks out on her own, I stand up off my stool.
“Hate to do this again, Carl.” I drain the last of my drink and take his untouched one with me to the other side of the bar.
A guy’s standing next to the booth, delivering a lame pick-up line when I get over there. Something about her not needing to wear any green because of the intensity of the color in her incredible eyes. Except she is wearing green, a shamrock in the middle of her tight white tank top that peeks out from under a green plaid shirt. I slide in across from her and wave him off. He stops mid-sentence, looking at her for confirmation on whether or not he should leave her alone with me. She gives him a small smile and then glares at me as he wanders away.
“Thanks,” she says, the sarcasm unmissable. “A text with your location would have sufficed though.”
“Why aren’t you over there, learning how to handle a stick?”
She shrugs, peeling off the label on her beer bottle. “I already know how to shoot pool.”
I rest my arm on the seat back and crane my neck around to see the pool tables. Terra laughs while the guy next to her watches her hand slowly gliding down the stick.
“I really don’t think that’s the point.”
A brunette walks by in shorts that are in no way long enough to be called shorts, a green crop top with rainbow suspenders, and a top hat. She smiles, her eyes traveling over me while mine do the same to her.
“You can go if you want.”
I look at Hannah. “What?”
“I won’t leave without telling you.” She shifts and looks away. “I think you’re right though. I should go play pool.” As she gets out of the booth, her hand drops down to the seat, grabbing my leather jacket. She pulls it on and pushes through the sea of green.
I watch Terra pull her in for a hug and introduce her to the three guys at the table with her. She flashes a smile at them, lingering on the closest, who angles his body toward her, immediately engaging.
Carl’s unsurprisingly where I left him. I set his now-empty drink back in front of him and have barely sat down when rainbow suspenders enter my peripheral. The brunette pretends not to see me, slipping between my stool and the one on the other side that’s also occupied. Not the one with Carl in it, although he would have appreciated her brushing up on him.
She looks over, waiting for the bartender. “Where’s your green?”
I lick my lips and bust out the dimples. “What happens if I’m not wearing any? I always seem to forget.”
“Hmm.” She touches a finger to her chin. “I think I either pinch you or give you something of mine that’s green.”
“I like the second option. But the real question is, do I get to decide what you give me?”
It’s her panties. I’m going to ask for her panties, and she’s going to take me to the men’s room and give them to me. Her hand brushes ov
er my thigh, teeth dent her bottom lip, and fuck if it’s not the worst time for my chest to warm.
I let out an exasperated sigh and check over my shoulder. Hannah’s still talking to the guy. He leans even closer, no doubt making up some bullshit about how he’s having trouble hearing her because of the noise. As he talks in her ear, his hand touches the sleeve of the leather jacket. My leather jacket that smells like me.
“It depends on what you want.” The brunette’s answer to the question I forgot I’d asked brings my attention back to her. “I have on five things that are green.”
“Top hat, suspenders, and shirt are obvious.”
She runs her hand through my hair, not shy at all. Then the heat creeps down my arm. The muscles in my jaw tense, and I look at Hannah again. Dude tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear and puts his hand back down on the pool table so that he touches her fingers.
“The other two are hidden.”
Like a tennis match, I’m back to the brunette. Her top exposes enough of her shoulder so that I can see her green strap running parallel to the suspenders.
“Your bra.”
My thumb slips beneath the strap and slowly slides down until I reach the neck of her shirt. She’s straddling my leg now, a hard thigh on each side, so of course, the light shoots the rest of the way down into my hand. I stretch my fingers as the power boils below the surface. It almost feels off, like there’s an edge to it, and I have to fight against the urge to find out what’s going on behind me.
“One more,” the brunette says.
In a hurry to finish the game, I hook my finger in the belt loop of her shorts. I tug her toward me, and a rough surge of energy hits, forcing my head back around. My eyes lock with Hannah’s, her attention fully on me and not the jabroni laughing and resting his hand on her hip. A hand touches the side of my face, bringing on another harsh wave, and then Hannah looks away. She laughs along with whatever the comedian said. Even from across the bar, I know it’s fake.
The brunette pulls on my face until I’m looking at her. “Do you need a hint?”
God fucking help me.
My hand presses gently against her stomach, prompting her to take a step back. “You know what? I just remembered.” I lift enough of my hoodie to show her my green T-shirt. “I guess I don’t need anything from you after all.” I scrape the stool back and walk away.
Terra spots me and practically leaps in front of me. “Show me your green.”
I prove myself, earning a smile.
“Very well. You may talk to her.” She bounds back over by the jukebox where a girl dressed in the same white tank top with a lime-green bra showing through waits for her.
I step behind Hannah. “Can we leave soon?”
“Hey.” The guy sticks the hand that, until a second ago, was touching her in my direction. “I’m—”
“Cool,” I say, my tone perfectly conveying my mood. “Now let me talk to Hannah.”
He doesn’t obediently run away like the one from earlier. But when she focuses on me, he backs off toward the rest of his group over by Terra, his eyes on us the entire time.
“Shouldn’t you be finding the pot of gold at the end of that girl’s suspenders?” She delivers the line with such disdain that I almost smile.
Judgmental Hannah isn’t someone I’ve met. I may be rubbing off on her.
“Someone keeps interrupting me.” I skim my fingertips over the back of her hand, giving off enough light to spark against her skin. “It makes it a little hard to focus.”
Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, but they brighten even more. “I guess we’re even then since you ran off a guy earlier.”
I tip my head toward the jukebox. “Two guys.”
She glances back at the guy who, a minute ago, only had eyes for her, just as he shoves his tongue down another girl’s throat. How does she keep attracting these assholes? But Hannah’s expression stays indifferent.
“Probably for the best since we both know I’m going home with you at the end of the night anyway.” Her gaze returns to me. “Let me tell Terra we’re leaving?”
If only it were that easy.
Terra insists we stay until her song plays on the jukebox and we’ve taken green Jell-O shots with her, and then she drags Hannah into the restroom. It reminds me of the parties she used to go to before her parents died, minus the underage drinking. Except, back then, it was Hannah smiling like a lunatic and pulling people around the room by the arm.
They eventually reappear, and I think we might finally be able to go when Preppy pops up out of fucking nowhere. He’s sporting a sling on his arm, which immediately earns him pity from half a dozen drunk girls who ascend on him like he’s an injured puppy. Although the only one he seems interested in is the one standing next to me.
“Jesus,” I mumble as he walks toward us.
“I hoped you’d still be here.” His grin fades, his attention drifting over to me, and he stops. “I remember you.”
His comment causes Hannah to panic. The power hits me so hard that I grab on to the pool table to keep it under control.
“Yeah,” I say through clenched teeth. “From the park. Flat tire, right?”
“Right.”
She calms down, realizing he remembers me from their first date, not their last.
He looks at the space between Hannah and me, fucking analyzing it before he smiles at her. This guy irritates me to no end.
“The doctor cleared me to go to Florida for spring break. Do you still want me to bring along those headphones for you?”
“Florida?” I ask.
She looks at me, but I stay locked in on Gabe, who keeps his eyes on her.
“Terra’s friend Jesse and I are crashing their trip,” he says. “It’ll be the four of us for an entire week of sun and beach.”
I check out of the conversation then, all my effort pouring into not carrying Hannah’s ass out of the bar. She’s explaining to Preppy that we need to leave when I stalk away. She follows, neither of us saying a word on our way through the crowd.
Out the door, I keep going across the parking lot, my temper barely in check. Hannah’s feet crunch gravel behind me until I reach my bike. The sound stops, and so do I, whipping back around.
“I was going to tell you,” she says from several feet away. “We go somewhere every year, and I know, with the demons, it might be a little more difficult, but—”
“Fucking Florida?” My palms glow when she flinches at my tone. “For starters, why? Also, no fucking way. I’m already risking everything by leaving you unattended in class and at the dorms with Terra. Now I’m supposed to watch from a distance for an entire week?”
“No.”
“Then how do you think it’s going to work?”
She fidgets with her zipper, not wanting to look at me. “We have enough room for one more person. And you’ve already met Terra, so I thought you’d just come with us.”
I laugh once at the idea. “I’m not going on vacation with you and Preppy.” I hand her the helmet, watching the parking lot. “Let’s go. I don’t like being out here in the open.”
She starts to reach for the helmet, but her hand drops away. “No.”
“What do you mean, no? Get on the bike.”
Her arms cross over her chest, her chin lifting to challenge me. With my mood worsening by the second, I take a step toward her, ready to drop us back to the dorms, but the light fades at a rapid rate until it’s barely a twinge. I watch her chest rise, each breath slower than the last.
“Fine.” I lean back against the seat of my bike. “Go back inside and wait for Terra then. Just don’t expect me to come running anymore when you have nightmares.”
I get a little more of a ripple, and she turns around and stomps across the parking lot.
“And we’re still not going to Florida,” I call after her.
She turns around and flips me off.
I chuc
kle, not bothered by her tantrum in the least. We both know when she wakes up terrified, she’ll want me there. We both also know there’s no fucking way in hell we’re going to Florida.
Hannah doesn’t have any more nightmares.
And the Saturday morning after midterms, I meet her in the parking lot with my suitcase.
Damn it.
The car ride.
Holy shit, the car ride.
Terra’s friend Jesse, a six-foot-six monster of a guy with a mess of blond hair and a constant smile, drives us down in his Jeep. She sits up front with him. I’m half-convinced it’s because she wants to see how everything plays out with Preppy, Hannah, and me squeezed together in the backseat. In that order.
Within the first thirty minutes, Preppy tries to put his arm around Hannah, and his hand brushes my shoulder. She shifts closer to me, trying to avoid him.
Unable to help myself, I lean over and whisper in her ear, “How’s that ‘I need to concentrate on school’ excuse working out for you?”
She sets her jaw and looks away from me. We’re still not on the best of terms since our fight last week at the bar, tolerating each other but not much more. What’s that saying? One step forward, two steps back? With Hannah and me, it’s more like one step sideways, run backward for a quarter of a mile.
Not wanting to chance any of the mortals falling asleep behind the wheel, I take over driving in the middle of the night. Terra promises to stay awake and keep me company. Thank God that only lasts about twenty minutes.
I watch Hannah through the mirror. She doesn’t sleep much, mostly staring out the window and listening to the noise I still refuse to call music in a pair of headphones she bought. Every now and then, our gazes cross in the mirror. It only lasts a few seconds before one of us looks away. I’m starting to wonder if it will ever get easier with her or if we’ll be battling over every little thing for the rest of her life.
