Dark Hearts

by Micalea Smeltzer

  How can I so no to that?

  I nod. “I’ll go.”

  “Thank you.” He hugs me to him.

  Something tells me that me going to this thing is a bigger deal for him than he’s letting on, but I don’t say anything. He wants me there, so I’ll be there.

  He releases me. “You’re going to have to get a dress.”

  “I’m sure I have something—”

  He shakes his head. “Not even the dress you wore to Xander and Thea’s wedding would be fancy enough for this. Trust me.”

  My mouth pops open. Maybe agreeing to this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Well,” I say, hoping my apprehension doesn’t show on my face, “I guess I better ask Thea and Rae to go shopping.”

  He nods. “Good idea.”

  Oh, good Lord—if he’s agreeing I need to go shopping with Thea then this must be a super fancy thing.

  “I’ll talk to the girls,” I say.

  He kisses me quickly before pulling away. “Thank you. This means more than you know.” He stands and rubs his hands on his jeans. “Now I really need a cigarette.”

  I shake my head as he disappears back through the window to smoke.

  I text Thea and Rae in a group chat and they both readily agree to go shopping tomorrow.

  I hope I can find something because if I have to go shopping again I just may die.

  ***

  “What about this one?” Thea asks, holding up a shimmery pink mermaid gown.

  I point a warning finger at her. “If you show me one more pink dress I’m barricading you in a dressing room and leaving you here.”

  Thea pouts. “No would’ve sufficed.”

  I sigh. “Pink isn’t my thing. If I have to where a stuffy ball gown I need to at least feel like me.”

  “And who are you again?” Rae jokes, ruffling my dark brown locks of hair. “I can’t get over the brown. It seems so much weirder than the green or blue.”

  “It’s just because you’ve never seen me with normal hair,” I reason, looking through dresses on a rack.

  “What kind of event are we dealing with?” Thea asks. “That’ll help me decide what dress style is best.”

  I sigh and shrug. “All Jace said was, “It’s fancy. Like really fucking fancy. Think celebrities on the red carpet kind of fancy.’”

  “Oh, that helps,” Thea says, rifling through some dresses.

  She’s the one that brought us to this boutique on the opposite side of town. It’s two stories in a high-rise building with dresses everywhere. If I can’t find one here, then there’s something wrong with me.

  “What kind of color would you like?” Thea asks, her tongue sticking out between her lips as she concentrates on the dresses.

  “Preferably black,” I answer. “But I’m open to other options, as long as it’s dark or jewel tone. Do not give me anything pastel or I might strangle you with it,” I warn.

  “No pastel. Noted.”

  I flip through dress after dress, each more hideous than the last.

  “What about this one?” Thea holds up a navy dress encrusted with silver beaded detailing.

  I gag. “No.”

  She groans. “Nova,” she scolds. “You hate everything.”

  “There has to be something here,” I whine.

  “What about this?” Rae points to a deep purple dress on one of the store mannequins. It has a sweetheart neckline and a ball gown skirt.

  “I like the color but it’s too poufy.”

  Rae and Thea exchange a look. I know they’re getting put out with me, but if I have to wear a fancy dress I need to at least feel like myself.

  I move to another rack.

  “How about this?”

  I turn around and bust out laughing at the pale blue confection Rae holds.

  “I didn’t pick it.” Thea raises her hands innocently.

  Minutes pass as we search quietly to ourselves.

  “Oh, my God,” Thea gasps. “I think I found it. I’m serious.”

  We both hurry over to her side to see what she found.

  I gasp. “It’s perfect.”

  I reach out to touch the silky black fabric.

  “Try it on.” Thea shoves the dress into my chest. “Hurry, hurry. I want to see it on.”

  She shoves me into a dressing room and swishes the curtain closed with a flourish.

  I change as quickly as I can, but apparently not quickly enough.

  “Are you not done yet?”

  I scream when I look down and see Thea poking her head beneath the curtain.

  “Thea!” I scold.

  “What?” She looks up at me innocently. “You have a cute butt,” she notes.

  “Get out.” I shoo her away.

  “I know what a girl looks like naked,” she grumbles. “It’s not a big deal.” But thankfully she shimmies out from underneath the dressing room.

  I can hear Rae laughing through the curtain. “I hate you both,” I grumble.

  “Impossible,” Thea says. “We’re both far too lovable.”

  I finish putting the dress on and appraise myself in the mirror. I run my hands down the front of the dress and smile.

  It’s perfect.

  I open the curtain and they both gasp.

  “That’s amazing on you,” Rae tells me.

  “You look like a real girl now,” Thea jokes. “This is perfect.”

  I move to the mirror and look at the dress from every angle.

  The bodice of the dress hugs my chest, all the way down to my hips, where it flows out and cascades down to the floor. What makes it so eye-catching is the detailing on the chest. There’s see-through mesh fabric and lace detailing that extends to the back. It’s simple but incredibly sexy. I know Jace will lose his mind when he sees it.

  “You have to get it,” Thea says. “You’re not going to find anything better than this.” I nod in agreement. “Oh!” she cries. “Shoes. You need shoes. And jewelry. I’ll be right back.”

  Before either Rae or I can say anything, she takes off for the opposite end of the boutique.

  When she returns, she holds out a pair of black stilettos and silver chandelier earrings. I wave away the earrings but take the shoes. I slip them on, instantly six inches taller, and wobble.

  “Think I can get away with wearing boots under my dress?” I ask.

  “Not a chance,” Thea says.

  I sigh. I know she’s right.

  “Guess I better practice,” I mumble.

  I teeter back into the dressing room and change back into my clothes before heading to buy the dress and shoes.

  I balk at the price since it’s nearly two-months’ worth of rent, but since Jace never cashes my checks it’s not that big of a deal. He even tried to get me to take his credit card with me today to buy my dress, insisting I wouldn’t need to buy one if it wasn’t for him, but I refused.

  Once I’m armed with my garment and shopping bag, the girls and I head around the corner to get a bite to eat.

  Shopping makes you hungry, apparently.

  I find myself smiling, and laughing, and enjoying myself.

  Normally, when I hang out with just the girls I’m counting down the minutes until I can leave and do my own thing. It’s not that I don’t like my friends, it’s just hard to sometimes feel like I belong.

  I think maybe I’ve finally found my place in the world.

  Jace

  I tug on my solid black tie.

  My all-black tux feels suffocating, and I haven’t even stepped foot out of the apartment.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  I appraise my appearance in the bathroom mirror, looking for any flaw my dad might find.

  I shaved—so he can’t call me a hoodlum for not shaving.

  My hair is slicked back and gelled, so there’s no chance it’s going to fall in my eyes—something else he hates.

  The only thing I can find that he might find fault in is the scowl on my face I can’t seem to
erase.

  I turn off the bathroom light and sit at the kitchen table, waiting for Nova to finish getting ready.

  Nothing prepares for the sight that meets me when she walks out of her room.

  “Nova,” I squeak.

  She ducks her head bashfully. “What do you think?”

  “You … You look … Wow.”

  I’m at a loss for words. She looks amazing in a floor-length black dress. It’s sheer and lacy in the front and … it’s just fucking mind-blowing.

  I stand and cross the room to her.

  I place my hands on her hips and draw her to me. I lower my head and kiss her quickly so I don’t mess up the dark lipstick she wears.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she comments with a smile. I step back with a smirk and let her check me out. “Does your dad know you’re bringing me?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “It’s better the less he knows,” I mutter.

  She makes a face. She’s about to learn all too soon what an asshole my dad is. It’s something I hoped I could spare her from, but I’d much rather have her at my side than suffer alone tonight.

  Or worse, get groped by a bunch of old socialites because that’s happened before.

  “Are we taking your truck?” she asks, picking up a clutch from the kitchen table.

  I snort. “My dad would kill me if I showed up in my truck. He sent a car.”

  “Oh … should we go then?”

  I sigh. “Yeah. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”

  I lock up behind us and we’re silent through the elevator ride.

  I guide her outside and the driver of a parked black Escalade hops out.

  “Mr. Kensington?”

  “Yep, that’s me,” I say.

  He gets the door, and I help Nova into the car before climbing in behind her.

  The door closes and he climbs back in the driver’s seat.

  Nova and I don’t talk during the drive. I think her silence is from nerves while mine is purposeful. I don’t know this driver, so I don’t trust him, and I don’t want to risk the chance of anything I say getting back to my dad.

  An hour later we pull up outside a mansion that’s located away from the city.

  The driver waits for our turn before letting us out at the steps. Somebody waits there to open the door, and I slide out, turning to hold a hand out to Nova.

  She wobbles, unsteady in her heels, and I hold tightly to her so she doesn’t fall.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper against her hair.

  She nods, looking around with wide eyes. She swallows thickly. “It’s just now occurred to me that I’ve never asked you what your dad does.”

  I wrinkle my nose in distaste as we start up the stairs slowly. “He’s a Senator.”

  Nova nearly falls over and I don’t know whether it’s my words that have bowed her, or she’s just clumsy in the death traps she calls shoes.

  “A-A Senator?”

  Definitely the Senator thing then.

  “Yeah,” I say, my brows furrowing in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s nothing,” she mutters.

  I watch her carefully, noting the panic written plainly on her face, making it obvious that there is something wrong. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to press the matter.

  We enter the mansion and are ushered through to a ballroom.

  There are tables set up for people to eat at with white table cloths. The rest of the room seems to be reserved for dancing and mingling.

  I place my hand against the small of Nova’s back and search the tables for my father.

  It’s better to get this introduction over now rather than later.

  I finally spot my father speaking to another man by the bar, a scotch in his hand.

  He looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him nearly a year ago.

  We have the same angular cheekbones, sharp nose, and full lips. Even our hair is the same color, though his is turning gray. The only thing I have from my mother is my green eyes. My dad has pale-blue eyes. It’s like they’re leached of color and happiness.

  Nova shuffles awkwardly at my side, her head swiveling from left to right as she tries to take in everyone and everything.

  I lean down to whisper in her ear, “That’s my dad.” I don’t point. Pointing is frowned upon, but I look in his direction and I know that we favor enough that she won’t be able to mistake who I’m speaking of.

  When the man my dad’s speaking to finally leaves, I guide Nova over to him.

  My father sees us coming and he looks us both over carefully.

  “Jacen,” he says in greeting when we stop in front of him.

  “Father,” I reply. “This is Novalee.”

  “Novalee what?” he hisses. “I taught you how to properly introduce someone, I expect you to do it.”

  I need a drink and the night’s only just begun.

  “Novalee Clarke,” I say, the words grating through my teeth.

  He smiles in satisfaction. “Do you speak?” he asks Nova.

  “Y-Yes, sir,” she stutters, her eyes still flitting around nervously.

  I give her a peculiar look. It’s not like Nova to lose her cool like this. Something more is going on, and I don’t understand what it is.

  “Dad,” I hiss. “Be nice. She’s my date.”

  “Whom you didn’t inform me that was coming. That wasn’t very thoughtful of you, Jacen.”

  Suddenly, I feel like I’ve been transported back to the past. I no longer stand in the ballroom, instead I’m a scared six-year-old boy, standing in the kitchen as his father scolds him for making a mess while he was trying to make a sandwich.

  “He’s just a boy,” my mom told him.

  “A boy must learn to be a man from the start.”

  I shake my head back and forth, returning to the present. “Nova, this is my father, Heath. Dad, we’re going to find a table.”

  I grab Nova’s hand and start to pull her away.

  “We weren’t finished,” my dad calls after us.

  I turn around. “What do you want to say? Huh?”

  A dark cloud passes over his face. “Not here. I mean it.”

  I laugh humorlessly. “I’m a pawn. That’s all I am to you.”

  “Do not make a scene, Jacen,” he warns.

  “Don’t worry.” I smile. “I’m good at pretending.”

  I drag Nova over to a table as far away from my dad as I can get.

  I pull out a chair for her before dropping down into the one beside her.

  “Your dad is … intense,” she comments.

  “He’s something else, that’s for sure.” A glass of water already sits at each seat and I grab the one to my right and drink it greedily. I’d prefer something alcoholic but I’m so parched that this is perfect. I tug at my too-tight collar. “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” I groan. “He’s … he’s …”

  She places a reassuring hand on my knee. “I know a thing or two about controlling parents. I can handle it.”

  “But you froze back there.”

  She shakes her head. “It had nothing to do with your dad.”

  “Then what is it?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I appraise her.

  She swallows thickly, her eyes doing another scan of the room. “I’ll tell you later.”

  I press my lips together. Something tells me later might turn out to be never.

  She changes the topic. “So, your dad’s a Senator, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh and lean back in my chair—if my dad sees he’ll scold me for that, but fuck it. “Hard to believe I grew up as a politician’s son, isn’t it?”

  “Kind of.” She smiles. “You’re the complete opposite. The music, the tattoos, the bad boy vibe … I definitely wouldn’t have pegged you as a Senator’s son.”

  “I think my dad’s career and his overall assholish personality is what steered me toward music and everything. I wanted to do something that would pi
ss him off and it turned out I loved it. He hates me working at the bar, which was why I took the job to begin with.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t figured out a way to get you fired,” she comments.

  “You know,” I breathe, “that surprises me too. He has more important things to focus on now than where I work.” I shrug and tug at my collar. I swear it’s getting tighter by the second.

  Music plays and people dance, chatter filling the area. Everyone goes on with their lives, oblivious to how bad some other people’s lives are. That’s something that’s always bothered me—how inherently selfish most people are that they don’t notice another person suffering. I swear, I could be drowning right in front of them and they wouldn’t even notice.

  Nova glides her hand up my thigh and squeezes lightly. I look over at her. Soft curls frame her face where they’ve escaped from her up-do. I’ve only ever seen her with her hair down or in a messy bun, so it’s weird to see her looking so … elegant.

  I cup her cheek and she sighs at my touch.

  “Let’s dance,” I say.

  Dancing is better than sitting at this table being miserable. Besides, I’d rather be occupied than have to talk to one of my dad’s friends, and it’s only a matter of time until one of them finds me.

  Nova nods and takes my hand. I lead her out onto the dance floor. I feel my father’s shrewd eyes searing a hole into the back of my head. There are plenty of people dancing so Nova and I bleed easily into the crowed and the weight of his eyes falls from my body.

  I place one hand on Nova’s waist and hold her other in mine. I guide her easily around the dance floor with a little smile on my face. Dancing with Nova just might make this night bearable.

  “I know now why you had to have dance lessons.”

  I laugh. “Have to make Daddy Dearest look good. It’d be unfit if his kid didn’t know how to dance or properly hold a fork.” I snort.

  Nova’s fingers tighten around my shoulder. “I’m sorry things were bad for you. I know you haven’t told me much, but I understand.”

  “It wasn’t all bad,” I admit. “At least, when my mom was alive.”

  “I wish I could’ve met her,” she breathes, her brown eyes wide and doe like.

  I sigh. “I do too. She would’ve loved you.”