by Mari Arden
This is spiraling out of control. My heart is beating faster, but the sensations are pleasant like adrenaline rushing through every cell. "No," I choke out, trying not to feel his metal hard body brushing against mine.
"Prove it," he challenges.
There's a roar in my head. "What?"
"Go on a date with me while I'm… hard."
I can feel the blush creep down to my neck, and somehow my lips still want to smile. I'm at war with myself. I want to move closer, but another part of me is desperate to flee. I've never felt like this before. Everything Pax brings out in me is new and unexpected and… pleasant. He's like alcohol, I realize. He gets me to a high without even trying. He's intoxicating.
"I promise you'll like it," he teases.
I break. "One date," I try to tell him sternly. Somehow it comes out softer than I intend.
"One," he repeats. "My favorite number."
"And after that-"
"We'll go on to date number two."
It's over. I start laughing. He grins, an impish grin that makes him look considerably younger than twenty-one. He puts an arm around me and gives me a quick, chaste kiss on my cheek. I feel the heat on my skin linger as I watch him walk away.
"See you soon, Jules," he calls out.
I wave. I don't notice I smiled until my smile abruptly falters.
Alaina is glaring at me.
Her green eyes scream murder.
CHAPTER 15
I'm not nervous.
I'm not, I repeat silently. I'm not nervous.
Every pulse throbs, beating to a silent drumbeat I can't decipher. I almost hear the blood rushing in my head. I inhale, taking a few heavy, deep breaths, then letting it out slowly. Mild irritation flutters through me. It's not like I haven't been alone with Pax before. I've even sat on top of him.
While he was half-naked.
With my top undone.
However, there's something about tonight that makes me feel different. Maybe it's because I've just finished my first week of school. Maybe it's because I've felt more alive here than I've ever felt anywhere else.
Thinking about the past week, brings a smile to my face. College is nothing like high school. The pace, the people, the atmosphere is new and exhilarating. I thought coming here would be like attending school in an ant hill. I'd seen it on Discovery channel once. Swarms of ants climbed in and out of their home, with seemingly no order to the chaos. The narrator said every one of the insects had a job to do, but I only saw hordes of blackness moving, seemingly directionless. In some ways, attending a big university like this one will harbor some disorder and confusion, but I've decided the daily flutter of pandemonium is like a pulse. The minute the chaos is destroyed, the heart of the school is dead. Lifeless.
There are pockets of peace and silence throughout the school that I've found while exploring the multitude of buildings. A few skyways connect several buildings, and when the sun shines through the glass windows, the skyway feels like a little piece of heaven. It's a strange place to study, but I like the wide hallway space and the carpet blanketing the entrance of each end. There's even a sofa there. It's brown with thick coverings, and still manages to feel softer than my mattress.
My butt prints are probably still there, I think with a smile. I just left half an hour ago to get to my dorm. Since I don't have a cell phone, Pax caught up with me one morning before school by student housing. The first morning I saw him there I was shocked he came. In all honesty, I'd thought he'd forgotten. I'd resigned myself to the fact already, yet there Pax was standing on the steps like he owned it. He asked me out for tonight and proceeded to walk me to my next class. Since I was almost late due to an irresponsible roommate who swore she'd turn on the alarm, the "walk" turned into more of a jog. There was no conversation, only a brief hug toward the end. I went into class breathless. From the jog, I remind myself even as the memory of Pax's strong arms floats to the surface of my mind.
I hear the sounds of a key turning the lock. Quickly, I straighten from Nat's vanity stand, trying to look nonchalant. "Hi," I greet her, keeping my hands at my sides.
"Hey," Nat responds, shutting the door behind her. "What's up?"
"Nothing." It's what I always say because it's always true. Not tonight though. "Um, actually, Nat. I was wondering if I could borrow your eye liner."
She nods toward the black make up bag on her vanity table. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to keep asking. After all, mi casa is tu casa. Literally."
I laugh. "Thanks."
Nat sets her keys down on her bed. She plops onto it, shoes and all. Her mattress makes an ancient creaking sound. "You're a workaholic, Jules," she says, staring at the ceiling. "You'd probably work through the night if they were open that late."
"Probably," I agree, unzipping her make-up bag. I know right where the skinny black liner is. I pick it up and take off the cap. The sharp charcoal lead is perfect for the subtle lines around my eyes I plan on making.
"My goal this year was to work hard, but God, watching you work makes me tired so I just quit before I even start." I laugh. "I'm serious." She gets on her elbows to look at me. "You're only eighteen, but it's like you have an old soul inside or something."
I shrug, turning back to the mirror. I don't think I have an old soul; I just think I'm accustomed to working hard. Nothing was ever given to me. I had to earn it. I feel her gaze on me as I line both eyes.
"Do the concealer, too. You have a couple small sun spots near your eyes."
Obediently, I take out a brush and dip it into a small container of powder. The brown sunspots are darker than I remember, and gently I pat powder on top of each.
"You missed a spot," Nat tells me. I look into the mirror, and brush more concealer on the side of my cheek. After I'm done, Nat says, "Bare Mineral's the shizzle. I've even used it over my hickey." She pulls her shirt down and I see a large red spot near her collarbone.
I drop the brush.
Nat giggles. "I clean all my brushes after I use them, okay? It's not a big deal."
Except for it is. Where else has that brush been?
"You know, you'd be a lot prettier if you let down your hair."
I stare at my reflection. I'm still shocked how something so small like eyeliner can make such a difference to my face. My eyes appear pretty. Gorgeous even. "You think?" I ask.
"Yeah. It would totally be worth it to get your hair in the customer's food."
I think about Anna and smirk. "Somehow I don't think my manager would agree."
"She will if you're helping to bring in the big bucks," Nat waves her hand in dismissal. "And pretty girls help with profit. Trust me."
"It doesn't matter. I'm not going in to work tonight anyway."
"You're not working on a Friday night?" Nat's eyes are round with disbelief. "My God, I think winter's going to come early this year."
I throw a pillow at her. "My manager didn't need me tonight. The company who booked us is bringing in some of their own waiters," I explain.
"So what are you doing putting on make-up then?"
I don't answer as I walk to my side of the room. I open a plastic bag and rip off the tags of a new shirt I recently purchased.
"Holy shit, Jules, are you going on a date?" Nat's incredulous voice is laced with so much disbelief I roll my eyes.
"Maybe I am," I say. "It's not a big deal."
"Jules!" Her shriek is high-pitched like a little girl's. She scrambles to me, almost toppling over on her thin stiletto heels. Her fingers are vice tight when she grabs my elbow. "Is this your first date ever?"
A picture of the woods and Josh's blue eyes flash in my head. My stomach clenches. "No."
"How many dates have you gone on?"
I shift from one foot to another, annoyed I'm uncomfortable with the question. Why does she care anyway? "One," I answer.
"One? You've been alive for eighteen years and you've only been on one date? Did you live in a nunnery or something?"
; "No," my voice sounds snappy. Sometimes Nat's oblivious to how other people might take her words. I take a deep breath and try again. "I had a boyfriend. We were together for a while but we didn't really go on dates. We just stayed at home watching movies, but we never really went out."
"That's weird."
Our whole relationship was weird. I don't say it out loud.
"Did you guys kiss at least?"
"Yeah," I try not to make a face. "We did."
"Was he your first kiss?"
I laugh. "No." I sit on the bed, suddenly remembering. "My first kiss was when I was nine and it involved a skinny boy, a wad of gum, and a few stitches."
Nat's eyebrows shoot up. "This I've got to hear."
"It was a pretty embarrassing first kiss," I confess, shaking my head. "I used to live next to a neighbor who had a little boy that was my age. It was summer time and Grandma and his parents would work the farms together. We would help them, but sometimes they would let us go play instead." I close my eyes and I can feel the green grass beneath my feet. I can smell the chemicals we used on the plants. "Well one day we snuck off somewhere by ourselves and climbed on top of this really massive tree. This boy, his name was Diego, was fascinated by my hair. He always wanted to touch it. So I sat in front of him and let him play with my hair. He was chewing gum and I asked him for a piece. He told me he'd give me one if I kissed him on the mouth." I remembered seriously considering it, trying to negotiate for more than one piece. He'd boasted that he'd kissed many girls before and the thought excited me more than it repulsed. I agreed. "So I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I felt his breath near me so he must have been leaning forward too." I remember the anticipation humming through me, the excitement that this was going to be my first kiss. This was going to be a day I'd always remembered. So far everything had been just like in the movies: the handsome boy, the chatter of birds, the light breeze that flittered through my hair, tingling my skin with adrenaline. When his lips finally touched mine, it had felt strange but wonderful. His lips were soft and warm like the coffee I snuck from Grandma's cup when she was away. "He kissed me once, twice, and it seemed to get better each time. Right when his mouth touched mine for the third time, I heard yelling. It took a moment but I finally realized it was Grandma yelling, telling me to get that boy's lips off of me." A faint smile touches my lips as I remember the shocked irritation in her voice. "Startled, I jerked away and lost my footing. I ended up falling over twenty feet to the ground. I didn't break anything, but somehow I ended up with a nasty gash on my arm. I needed seventeen stitches."
"Seventeen?"
"Yes," I wince, recalling the pain. We couldn't afford to go the hospital so Grandma dipped her needle in alcohol and sewed my skin back together. "Half the workers saw what happened. They teased us relentlessly afterwards. It was so embarrassing. They told Grandma I couldn't be trusted to be with a boy." Looking back, I know they were teasing. I remembered the sparkle in their eye when they ruffled my hair. At the time I was so embarrassed I refused all company, and wore a hat to cover my face around the other workers.
I look at Nat. I think about my first date, and Braidon. "I guess you could say I've had a string of bad firsts."
"Maybe second time around is the charm." She falls into my bed. "Or third. Or fourth. Or fifth like me." Nat flashes me a grin. She leans in closer. "Ever had sex before?"
My face reddens. Braidon never tried. Maybe he wanted marriage. Maybe he wanted to wait for the right moment. His mind is one I'll never understand. I don't know why he held back; I'm only thankful that he did. "Nat!" Something in my face tells her the answer.
"With your 'string of bad firsts', it's safe to assume your first time will probably suck. Everyone's first time usually does, but it definitely gets better with time. And multiple partners." She cackles when she says the last part.
I'm finally accustomed to her over the top comments now, and consider the content instead of the way the line was delivered. "Is that so?"
"For the most part, yeah."
I lift the sparkly golden shirt in front of me up. "Turn around," I tell her. "I need to change."
She makes an annoyed sound, but does what I say, complaining the whole time about how she's not a lesbian so what does it matter, and even if she was, she'd probably be a leg girl, and seeing as how I'm barely past five feet, I really have nothing to worry about.
I slip the shirt over my head and pull it past my chest and waist. I've only got three pair of jeans, and I take care of each as if it's my only. The skinny dark denim I have on right now gives the illusion that my butt is bigger than it is, and for some reason that matters to me tonight.
"You can turn around now," I say. Quickly, I pull down my hair tie and let the blonde-brown strands fall in soft waves over my shoulders.
"Eeeks!" she squeals when she sees me. "That gold does wonders for your coloring." Nat moves closer until she's in front of me. Her hands fix the hair around my face, pulling a few strands from one side of my head to the other. When she's done I walk to the vanity mirror and gaze at my reflection.
Nat's right. The gold does wonders for my coloring. I look tanner, and the sparkles on the top give me a glow I've never had before. My hair frames my face, making my features appear softer, rounder. I look less gaunt. Healthier.
"Not bad, right?" she says from behind me.
"Yeah," I answer softly. I look girly. I feel like it too. I'm not sure if I should be happy or irritated.
"So who's the lucky guy?"
I hesitate. I'm not sure if I should tell her. I don't think she's good at keeping secrets. I don't know why, but I don't want people to know about Pax and me. Some part of me feels like I'll be judged, like people might think I'm not good enough for him. "No one," I finally answer.
"So you're going out with a ghost?"
"A muscled, tanned, ghost," I correct, remembering Pax with his shirt off. "Not at all like Casper."
"I should stay here and meet said ghost."
"You," I point a finger at her, "need to go on that date of yours."
"How do you know I have a date tonight?"
"It's a Friday night," I say pointedly. "You always have dates lined up for the weekend."
"Not all the time," she replies. "Tonight I'm just hanging with an old friend. It's not a date. It's more like a booty call," she winks.
"Well, lucky for you I'll be gone tonight," I say. Then I make a face. "Please stay on your side of the room," I remind her. Last week I came home and there were white crust stains on the floor between our beds. I didn't have to be a sex expert to know what it was.
"I always do, you know."
There's a knock on my door, interrupting my reply.
Nat frowns. "He's early." She checks her watch. "Way early."
"Maybe he's in a hurry to see his old friend again."
Nat smirks as she makes her way across to open the door. Her heels sound louder than normal. I put a hand through my hair. My head feels a little heavier with my hair loose, but I don't hate the feeling.
"Nat, I-"
"Hello." Pax's low timber drifts to where I sit. I freeze, literally shocked motionless. How did Pax get here? How did he know what room number to go to?
"Pax?" Nat's shocked voice would have been comical if it wasn't for the fact that my surprise was as evident as hers.
I whip around to see him hold out his hand. "I'm Reid Paxton, but some people like to call me Pax," he introduces himself. His eyes find me for a quick moment, but then they flash back to her. Charm exudes out of him like water from a waterfall. I'm fascinated and a little jealous at the same time. From Nat's side profile, she seems slightly dazed as she gives him her hand. "Can we come in?" he asks politely. She steps back and I see Pax is with Cade.
"I hope you don't mind," Pax turns to me. "Cade needs a ride to the gym, and since it's on our way, I thought we'd drop him off."
"Sure."
There's a moment of awkward silence as the boys look around. I'v
e never seen Nat shocked speechless before as she stares at possibly two of the most famous guys on campus. I need to appreciate this moment, but Pax's presence makes the room feel ten times smaller, and it's making me nervous.
"Nice place," Cade comments politely. I'm willing to bet he's got a fancy apartment in the city somewhere.
"Not really, but thanks," I say.
"It's homey," he says. If by "homey", you mean cluttered, smelly, and the size of a closet then yes our dorm room is definitely "homey".
"It's comfortable," Pax breaks in smoothly. "Like a favorite shoe." He grins and I want to laugh. That's the perfect description for our tiny home away from home. "Do you remember meeting Cade?" Pax gestures at me.
A picture of Cade shirtless and flirting floats quickly through my mind. "Yes."
"This is Jules," he introduces us. I shake Cade's hand and it feels smooth. My hands are like gravel against his satin palms.
I look toward Nat. "This is Nat." I grab her hand and pull her toward me. That snaps her out of her daze and she blinks rapidly.
"Natalie's a pretty name," Pax comments politely.
"I used to know a Natalie once," Cade says.
Without meaning to, I answer, "Her name's not Natalie."
In that same moment, she answers, "My name's not Natalie." It's her pet peeve. It's the first thing I learned about her. "I'm Nat. You know, like the black singer and musician Nat King Cole?"
Cade's handsome face breaks in confusion. "Who's that? Does he play for a band we know?"
"Not unless corpses rise from the dead," Nat answers. She straightens, and it's obvious she's back to her normal self. "He passed away decades ago."
I know what he's thinking. Cade stares at her blue eyes and white, porcelain skin. "Your parents named you after a dead black guy?"
"So what if they did? My nanny was black." She shrugs as if that explains it.
I have to give it to Pax and Cade; both keep a straight face despite the obvious questions lingering in the air. Before anyone can reply, I move closer to them. "Should we go?"
"You ready?" Pax's emerald gaze is steady.
I think about it. "Yeah," I finally say, "I am."
