Dark Hearts

by Micalea Smeltzer

  She tries not to smile and fails miserably.

  I glance at the time and grumble, “We better go.”

  “You know, if we arrive together they’re going to think something is up.”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “We’re riding together.”

  “Sure. Suit yourself,” she says with a little smirk, and I wish more than anything I could see inside her thoughts.

  I shrug into my jacket and grab my keys off the table. I pass Nova and glance back at the table with a smirk. “We’re going to fuck on the table.” I drop that little bomb and smile in satisfaction as her jaw unhinges. “Let’s go.” I nod toward the door and she squeaks into action. I hope she spends the entire evening imagining what I’m going to do to her on that table. Whatever she comes up with won’t be nearly as good as the real thing, but I like playing with her.

  A few minutes later, we slide into the cab of my truck.

  I could drive a fancy sports car if I wanted—my dad would love that—but my ancient truck suits me. It feels right. With the holidays approaching I find myself thinking about him randomly more and more. We’re due for our annual call soon, and I’m dreading it. Every year I hope he’ll forget about me and he never does.

  I dismiss thoughts of my dad from my mind. I’m good at that—ignoring things. It’s easier to pretend the bad doesn’t exist.

  The drive is short, and I park around the block from the club. Nova hops out and I meet her at the front of the truck.

  I tap out a cigarette and smoke as we walk.

  “Why do you keep smoking if you don’t even like it?” she asks, her breath fogging the chilly hair.

  I shrug. “Bad habit more than anything, I guess.”

  “You should quit.” She kicks at an errant pebble on the sidewalk.

  “But don’t you think it adds to my cool factor?” I joke, wiggling my brows.

  She shakes her head. “I think the tattoos do a pretty good job at that.”

  I chuckle. “You like my tattoos, don’t you?”

  It’s dark but I swear her cheeks flush. “Maybe,” she mumbles.

  The club comes into sight and I say, “Do you know if the others are here yet?” She fishes her phone out of her— “Did you just pull your phone out of your bra?”

  “I had to put it somewhere,” she mumbles. She types out a text and it chimes a moment later. “They’re inside and Joel says he’ll be here soon.”

  “Yippee.” I flick my cigarette onto the ground.

  “Be nice.” She smacks my stomach. “He’s not even here yet and you’re already grumbling.”

  “He better not ask you to dance.”

  She laughs. “You do realize our friends don’t know we’re … whatever we are. It’s going to look suspicious.”

  I give her a steely look as we cross the street and get in line for the club. “Do I look like I care?”

  She shrugs. “I’m just saying. We have nosy friends, and they’re going to put two and two together if you’re glued to my side.”

  I lean into her and she moves closer to the building. “So, are you saying you’ll have no problem with me asking some other girl to dance? Buy them a drink? Maybe lean in and kiss them,” I whisper the last part, my lips grazing her ear and she shivers.

  “I get your point,” she says, her back ram-rod straight. “We’ll make do as best we can.”

  I chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

  The lines moves a bit but it still feels a mile long. Nova shivers, and I wrap an arm around her, drawing her small body close to mine.

  “Oh, hey, guys,” Joel runs up to us, slightly out of breath.

  “Hey, Joel.” Nova smiles at him.

  “Hey, Joel,” I mimic, my tone less than friendly unlike hers.

  Joel flashes a panicked smile my way and falls into line beside us.

  “I think our project is coming together,” Joel says to Nova.

  “What project?” I growl.

  Nova looks up at me. “The one we were working on the day he came over to watch Titanic. It’s on macro-photography.”

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “Basically, it’s photographing really small things and making them look large,” she explains.

  “Why do you have to do that together?”

  She laughs. “Because our professor hates us.”

  “Nah,” Joel pipes in. “I think she’s trying to help us. Every photographer is stronger at something and has a distinct style—so we can all help each other.”

  “True,” she agrees.

  We finally reach the front of the line, pay, and get stamps on our hands to get in.

  The music is loud and the lights flash in different colors.

  I follow Nova through the club and to a table our friends have commandeered. It’s a huge U-shaped booth. Nova slides in beside Cade, and I snag the space beside her, which forces Joel to the opposite side beside Thea.

  “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Joel. Joel, this is Thea, Xander, Cade, and of course you know Rae already.”

  “Hey.” Joel waves awkwardly, his shoulders hunched. He’s clearly uncomfortable which makes me smile.

  “What about Jace?” asks Thea, pointing at me.

  “We met outside,” I tell her.

  “Oh, right, of course.”

  “Can we order some drinks?” I ask. There’s no way I can make it through this night sober.

  “Already ahead of you,” Cade says.

  About that time a waitress brings a whole tray full of different drinks.

  I grab my beer and take large gulp, nearly choking in the process.

  Nova gives me a look that says, “Are you okay?” Which I answer with a nod.

  “I feel so boring,” Cade comments, sipping his beer, “because I’d much rather be at home sitting on the couch.”

  “You’ve officially become an old man,” Thea tells him. “Congratulations.”

  Cade drapes his arm over the booth behind Rae. “If being old means I don’t have to go out, then I welcome it.”

  “I’m just glad we’re all out together. We don’t go out as a group enough,” Rae adds.

  “Speaking of group things,” Thea pipes in. “The Halloween party is next weekend. Please tell me you have costumes figured out.” Her eyes latch onto me and then Nova.

  “I have mine,” Nova says. She looks up at me, waiting.

  “I’m going as myself,” I mumble. “Real scary costume there.”

  “Jacen,” Thea scolds, and I cringe at the use of my full name. Only my dad calls me Jacen, and I hate it for that reason alone. “You need to pick one or I’ll pick it for you.” The look she gives me says that I definitely don’t want her to pick it. She smiles at Joel beside her. “Do you like costume parties? You’re welcome to come if you’d like.”

  Joel shrugs. “I’m working that night but if I wasn’t I’d love to.”

  “Aw, too bad, what a bummer,” I say in a tone that shows I don’t think it’s a bummer.

  Nova smacks my knee with the palm of her hand beneath the table.

  Nobody seems to notice my comment, or if they do, they ignore it.

  “Let’s dance,” Thea says to Xander.

  “Sure.” He sets his drink down and Joel steps out of the booth so they can leave.

  “Wanna dance?” Cade asks Rae.

  Rae makes a face, like the thought of dancing is disgusting to her, but she nods. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Do you mind, guys?” Cade asks, motioning to Nova and me.

  “Not at all,” I say, glad to be rid of everyone. Well, except Joel.

  I stand and Nova slides out of the booth so that they can go dance.

  Nova takes her seat again and I do the same. We stare across the table at Joel who grins at us.

  “Your friends don’t know, do they?”

  “Know what?” Nova asks, playing innocent. When in doubt it’s best to act innocent.

  “That you’re together. Or fucking. Or whatever it is
you guys are doing.”

  I bristle.

  “You can’t say anything,” Nova pleads.

  “Why don’t you want them to know?” Joel asks, clearly confused why we’d keep this a secret.

  “Because our friends are nosy fucks,” I mumble and Nova jabs an elbow into my side.

  “It’s just easier this way,” she tells him. “The less complication the better. It’s hard to explain something to someone that you don’t quite understand yourself.” She looks up at me through thick dark lashes.

  Joel raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to say anything to them.”

  “Thank you,” she says, sagging in relief.

  Joel stands. “I’m going to go get another drink. You guys want anything?”

  We shake our heads.

  I breathe a sigh of relief once he’s gone.

  “Come on.” I stand. “Let’s dance.” I hold out my hand to her and she looks at it like it’s a snake that might bite her.

  “What if they see?” she whispers.

  “It’s just a dance. We’ve danced together before.”

  She sighs and slips her hand into mine, knowing I’m right.

  I lead her out onto the dance floor and we bleed into the crowd, becoming one among many.

  Her eyes dart around nervously, searching for our friends.

  I take her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Forget about them,” I plead. “All that exists right now is me and you. That’s all that matters.”

  “Why aren’t you more nervous?” she asks. “You’re Mr. Non-Commitment.”

  I shrug, moving my hands down to her waist and drawing her flush to me. “This is different.”

  We move to the beat of the song, but I don’t think either of us is actually listening.

  “How?” She blinks up at me, the lights flashing different colors over her face. First blue, then red, purple. “How is this different? What are we doing?”

  I dip my head to her ear. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’ve never done this before, but if for one minute you think that you’re just another girl to me, you’re wrong. Erase that thought from your mind right now. This is more.” She squeaks as I pull her impossibly closer. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring for me, for us, but I’m willing to try. Just give me time. I’m sure I’ll fuck this up, but don’t give up on me. Please.”

  Her hands squeeze against my shoulders. “For this to work, we’re going to have to be honest about things, okay?”

  “I can do that,” I tell her.

  “That also means we have to tell them. Not tonight, but soon. We can’t hide this from our friends forever. But for now, while this is still so new, we’ll stay quiet.”

  I bend my head and press my lips softly to hers. She’s stiff at first, but after a moment she relaxes beneath me.

  I know Nova and I haven’t put a definition on our relationship, but I think, maybe, she’s my girlfriend.

  That thought once would’ve sent me running in terror, but as I press my lips to hers, her body flush to mine, I feel no fear, instead I only feel content. But worry is still lodged in the back of my mind, because nothing good in my life has ever been easy, and I’m sure this will be no different. But I want to try, and that counts for something, right?

  Nova

  I pick up the camera lens and look at it before placing it back on the shelf in the classroom.

  Joel spreads out copies of prints from photos we took when we went out to practice our macro-photography. Now, we’ve been tasked with making some sort of collage out of them. I don’t understand the purpose of it, but it’s for our grade, so we have to do it.

  Our professor was kind enough to lend us her classroom for the afternoon. We’re not the only students who have utilized it to our advantage and there are several other groups working as well, including Rae and her partner.

  Joel’s phone buzzes, and he glares at it before sighing and picking it up and reading the text. He types back an angry response.

  “Girl trouble?” I ask.

  “Something like that,” he grumbles, his hair falling forward into his eyes. He shoves it angrily away.

  I take some of the prints and line them up so we can look at all of them.

  There are ten photos total, five for each of us, and we have to find some way to blend them together.

  Thankfully, we don’t have to use all the photos if we don’t want to, but it has to use at least three.

  It’s easier said than done, seeing as each photo is so zoomed in—the point of macro-photography—and a collage is more than just cutting and pasting images together.

  It’s supposed to be a collection or combination of things but it should make sense, and there lies the problem.

  “I don’t know how we’re going to do this,” I mutter, starting at a photo of a flower petal and then one of tree bark.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Joel replies, his phone buzzing again. He eyes the phone, and his lip curls with irritation.

  “Someone’s really up your butt about something,” I tell him. “You must’ve done something bad.”

  He shakes his head and doesn’t respond, shoving his phone in his pocket when he’s done typing out a text.

  “Let’s do this,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

  We get to work and after about an hour of going over things I stand and stretch.

  “I’m going to grab a coffee and come right back. Do you want anything?”

  He flicks a piece of hair out of his eye. “Uh … a coffee sounds good and food. I’m starving.”

  “You got it.” I grab my wallet from my backpack and head out.

  Only two other groups are still working, whereas when we started there were five, and we only have the classroom for another hour. Hopefully, we’ll be done by then. If this drags on longer than that I think I might die.

  I walk across campus, inhaling the crisp autumn air. I hear a couple of people talking about an upcoming school football game. I went to a few last year but that was only because Cade and Xander were playing. Since they’re no longer here, I haven’t bothered—besides, with Xander in the NFL, I’d rather go to one of their games if I’m going to sit through one.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and type out a text to Jace—letting him know that we’re still working on the project. I told him this morning that I’d be working after class with Joel, but I figured I’d be done by now, and I don’t want him to worry.

  He responds back almost immediately.

  Jace: Hurry back. I miss you.

  Me: I’ll make my lateness worthwhile. I promise. ;)

  I smile to myself. Never in a million years did I imagine I’d ever be with Jace, or that I’d be sending him suggestive text messages.

  I finally reach the small on-campus cafe and I’m forced to put my phone away before I can see his response.

  I order coffee for Joel and myself, as well as a muffin for me and a personal pizza for Joel. I don’t know if the pizza will be any good, but I figure if he’s starving then it’s better than a muffin. I grab two waters while I’m there, figuring we’ll want that next.

  Once our coffee and the food is ready I take the bag they put the food in, add the water bottles, and head back to the classroom.

  “And then there was one,” he says when I enter the room, and I notice that all the groups have now left.

  I sigh. “Lucky us.”

  I hand him his coffee and bag with the food.

  “Mmm, pizza,” he hums, pulling out the small cardboard box that holds it. “For you, I assume?” He finds the muffin and holds it up.

  “Yep, thanks.” I take it from him.

  “You got waters too.” He grins, pulling them from the bag. “You thought of everything.”

  “Except napkins,” I grumble. “I think I have some tissues in my backpack, though.”

  “Oh, yeah, didn’t think about that,” he agrees. “Greasy fingers and prints do not mix.”<
br />
  “No, they don’t,” I agree.

  I take a sip of coffee and look at how he’s arranged the photos. We’ve been rearranging them non-stop for the last hour, trying to figure out the best way to group them.

  “Hey, I like this.” I point to the way he currently has them arranged.

  He tips back the chair he’s sitting on so the front two legs come off the ground.

  “You do? This is my favorite so far too.” He takes a bite of pizza and fights a smile.

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  While Joel eats, I cut and glue the photos the way he’d arranged them.

  After about five minutes of working in silence, I look up at him.

  “I wish you could come to the party,” I say, referring to the Halloween party Thea’s throwing.

  He swallows a bite of pizza. “I might be able to make it. My boss said he might not need me this weekend, so if he doesn’t then I’ll go.”

  “You have a costume?” I ask. “Because Thea will kill you if you show up without one.”

  He chuckles and drops a piece of crust in the box. “Yeah, I have one.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  I shake my head. “Never mind. Surprise me.”

  I haven’t even told Jace what I decided to do for my costume so I’m definitely not telling Joel before him.

  Joel’s phone buzzes and he curses, swiping it off the table before I can see the name on the screen.

  “I think you need to dump whoever that is. She sounds like a clinger.”

  “She’s something all right.”

  I furrow my brows. The way he says she’s makes me wonder if he’s actually talking to a girl at all. I’d just assumed …

  “Let’s finish this,” he says, typing out a text and putting his phone away. “I have other homework I have to finish tonight.”

  “Uh … yeah, okay.”

  It doesn’t take us long to finish, and then we head our separate ways.

  I can’t seem to shake my confusion about all his text messages and his odd behavior.

  My gut tells me something more is going on than he’s telling me—and I figure I’ll learn what it is eventually, because the truth never stays buried for long.