41

I hear the beep of the intercom. Ren must be at the gate.
With one last twirl in front of the mirror, I grab my leather jacket – the one with the skull on the back and lots of patches – and swing it over my arm. Enrique brought it for me from Italy, one of my favorite items in my wardrobe. And it’s even more precious because Kiara hates absolutely everything about it.
She and Axel are comfy on the couch with blankets, pillows and what smells like hot chocolate. I wish I could just stay here and snuggle in between them. I’ll even watch Kiara’s movie choice, that’s how badly I don’t want to do this.
But it must be done.
“See you later, guys. Enjoy.” I throw my handbag over my shoulder. Axel turns his head and does a double-take.
“Hey, hey,” he yaps, “Are you going like THAT?” I look down at my clothes but don’t see any problems – no toilet paper sticking to my butt, no holes in my stockings, no stains on my dress …
“Is there something wrong?” I turn from side to side trying to scan every angle for a flaw. Now Kiara is also looking. She whistles through her teeth and then bites into her bottom lip.
“Eh,” Axel stutters with a slightly heated face, “Not wrong … ” he scratches his cheek, “It’s just a little … eh hot … it’s not quite something I would like a girl to wear when she’s breaking up with me, you know,” he stutters. I look at the little long-sleeved ribbed dress.
“Too casual?” I inquire. Axel groans, but Kiara suddenly beams a bright wide smile.
“It’s perfect,” she sneers. “Absolutely-frickin-perfect.” Axel opens his mouth but she slams him on his chest hard enough to make him huff.
“Now go,” she yells and waves me off. I give my outfit one last look and then walk to the gate.
“Good afternoon, Miss Melaena,” Anton greets politely. “You look very nice today.” I give the elderly guard a warm smile. He opens the passenger door of Ren’s car and I get in.
“Hi,” Ren says as I fasten my safety belt, glaring a moment-and-a-half too long at my dress, and I feel an impertinent ping creeping down my spine to settle uncomfortably in my tummy.
“Babe,” he adds, swallowing down spit.
Between him and D, I’m seriously starting to hate cute pink piglets. I’m not sure exactly what it is about the pet word that drives me up the walls, but I am sure I despise it.
“Hi.” I’m as tense as a wine cork and I wonder when all this stress is going to pop and hit me in the face.
“What are you thinking about so deeply?” he asks after a while.
“Nothing, just …” I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t tell him about D so I lie, ” … some family issues.” I feel guilty about being distracted so I try to focus on him. I turn my body a little in the seat and look at him. He is sweating and pale – as if he’s feeling sick.
“You know,” he starts, keeping his eyes on the road. “When I was around 14, we visited Jason once.”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s actually family … his dad and mine are cousins once or twice removed or something.” I suppose I should have put two and two together sooner – they share the same surname.
He seems anxious, clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles. “But that’s not important. I came to visit him and fell in love … ” My eyebrows shoot up. “With you.” Huh? We met before?
“Come again?” It comes out as a whisper. “We’ve met before?”
“You would not know, I only saw you from a distance.” I was not expecting this.
“You were … eh … one of Jason’s classmates.” Not by choice.
“Anyway, I thought you should know. I didn’t ask you out on just some random urge, I’ve wanted to do so for a very long time.” Is it bad that I suddenly feel sorry for him? I still think he’s not that bad a guy. The problem is me. I don’t feel anything romantic for him. Not even in the slightest.
“I know you think I’ve been moving a bit fast, but if you take into account that I’ve been waiting for years, it’s not that fast after all.” I guess he has a point. But he needs to understand mine.
“Ren, listen, I understand now why you’re thinking about a future together, but I’m not nearly ready for that stuff. I’m nineteen. It’s going to take me at the very least about 8 years to get there.” Maybe even ten.
“I suppose I can be a little more patient, maybe in a year or so you’ll feel differently.” No, I won’t. Although his talk about marriage and babies rattles me the fuck out, it’s not the real problem. Driving down Al Scoma Way, we’re in luck to find a parking spot right next to the restaurant.
Ren takes my arm, but I walk to some benches on the pier and sit down.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks uncertainly, his attitude still tense. I motion for him to sit down next to me. He does.
“No, this place is perfect. I just … eh … you’re the first guy to ask me out …” I stutter and mumble together. “Well except for the one that fell off his bike and started the curse – ”
“You mean the one Damion assaulted to prove a point,” he interrupts. Yeah, that.
“The thing is I’ve never done this before,” okay, a good start I guess, “So I’m not sure how to say this.” I really don’t know what I’m doing. And contrary to the belief that I’m tough and bitchy, I’m not nearly as mean as Kiara can be.
“Maybe just come out and say it.” His voice is as glacial as his impassive face. It’s as if he’s holding his breath.
In contrast, his chocolate eyes stare at me, eagerly hopeful, reminding me of how Jinx eyeballs the cookie jar. My brain mangles into a catastrophic mess that closes up my throat so no sound can escape. The result is me staring at him with a dropped jaw and huge eyes.
“Okay, I’ll need some words, ’cause I’m not a mind reader and you are like a closed book to me. I never know what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, almost pleading. Damion can read me.
‘I think you want a love that engulfs you. With someone real. Someone who understands your soul.’ His words jump to mind.
“Ren, this might sound stupid …” cause believe me Kiara for sure thinks so, “But I -”
“Hi, baby, where have you been?” A girl walks up to Ren, interrupting me, and throws her arms around him, kissing him full on the lips. He pushes her away, throws a quick glance at me, then wipes his mouth and, with an angry face, grunts, “What the hell, Julia?”
‘He’s cheating on you,’ I hear Damion’s voice again in my mind. Dammit. But then again, he’s not officially my boyfriend so he can see whomever he wants.
Julia frowns and looks me up and down – her face an expression of disgust as if I’m something the cat dragged in. Anger bursts through my veins, but I’m not here to get into a catfight over a guy I’m dumping. It’s just not worth it.
“Call me later, sweetheart.” She trails a finger along his cheek and then walks away with swaying hips and her nose in the air.
Ren looks uncomfortable and opens his mouth, “It’s not what it … ” he starts to explain, but I hold up my hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re not official.” But the slight anger attack boosts my courage. “I was going to say, that I want a love that engulfs me. With someone real. Someone who understands my soul.” I quote Damion’s words, thinking to myself, that if Ren knew this, he would probably explode his lid.