Feeling trapped, I gazed from one end of the room to the other. Where is Collin? This was his fault. Jake was taking this the wrong way.
I have to tell him. This is gonna suck. “When you came on stage, my heart stopped. Your voice. Oh. My. God. And the way you were saying your lines. It was breathtaking. I started to skim this,” I said holding up the playbill, “for your name and bio. My jerk-friend noticed, and teased me about it. I was, umm, scowling at him, not you.” My face felt hot, and my heart was pounding so loudly that I was sure he could hear it. “Well, as much fun as it’s been—I gotta go.”
Normally, I didn’t tell people stuff like that, but breaking an artist’s confidence was sacrilegious—especially someone as talented as Jake. I jumped up to make a hasty retreat, but he smoothed his hand over mine, rising with me. Hesitating, I looked at him.
His hair fell into his eyes. Smiling softly, he asked, “Ivy, would you like to grab a cup of coffee?”
We grabbed coffee several times over the next few weeks. I’d wanted him to kiss me after that first date, but he’d insisted on taking things slow. Stupidly, I thought he seemed like a sweet guy, who cared about me. That made the blindsiding attack that bitch-slapped me much worse.
Last night I flew out of my bed, slid out my window, and ran to the park to meet him. Sneaking out was part of my repertoire over the past year. While I ditched most of my juvenile delinquent behavior, I didn’t stop all of it. Ducking out my window in the middle of the night was still a norm. I couldn’t sleep anyway. My mom had no clue. And no one knew where my dad was. Mom was sweet, but she still thought I was a good girl. She saw the girl I had been, and not the one I’d become. It wasn’t unexpected. She had her own trauma to deal with. Hiding my serious crash and burn from her wasn’t hard. I hid it from everyone. Only a few people saw me go down in flames after my sister’s funeral, even less stayed around to put them out, and help me get on with my life.
Jake encouraged my midnight outings, and was always there to walk and talk. A midnight swing at the park was normal, as my nights became filled with less sleep, and more awake.
Last night played out exactly the way he wanted. He lured me there with the one thing he knew I wanted—a kiss. When I arrived, he’d taken my hand outside the park gate, and we walked for a bit. Leaning against a tree, after we’d walked deeper into the woods than usual, Jake pressed his body into mine. It felt good. His fingers brushed across my face, and gently pushed back a stray curl, causing my pulse to skyrocket.
Moonlight cast a lacey pattern on the ground. His face lingered inches from mine. Warm and welcome, I felt his breath on my chilled skin. Tickling fingers suddenly wiggled against my waist. I retaliated quickly. Falling to the ground, in a tangle of legs and arms, we tickled and laughed. It seemed so sweet, and so normal—until I was glued to the ground. How did he turn into the crimson-eyed monster that attacked me last night? Pain like that was unimaginable. I’d never felt anything like that—ever. And I hoped to God, I never would again.
I clung to the few facts I had, and I sighed. Jake attacked me. Eric saved me. And now I had a mark on my head. Accepting that was all I knew made me nuts, but I knew who had the answers. Eric. My strength returned to me over night, and I was ready to hear whatever it was he had to say.
The clock blinked 7:45am. Grabbing my phone, I threw it in my purse, not bothering to look at the screen, and went to school.
CHAPTER FOUR
I dragged my feet to school. Kids talked, lockers slammed, and the bell rang. The sounds of my normal day droned on like white noise. Continuing to my locker, I grabbed my books.
Although my mark was covered with a thick coating of make-up, I felt exposed. Not knowing what was happening made me twitchy. I grabbed my books and walked to class as the bell rang. My hand pushed the door open, and the teacher shot me a dirty look. I walked quietly to my seat.
Mr. Tanner was a squat man with stern features. Getting excited made his face turn red and his jowls shake. Sweat stains made his once white shirt dingy, and his Dockers clung on for dear life, under his enormous gut. “Tardy. That makes two,” he waved a sausage sized finger at me. “One more and you’ll be spending the afternoon in detention.” Marking his book, he grunted.
If this happened a year ago, I would have been horrified. But now? I didn’t care. The sniggers would stop in a second, and they’d all forget I was here. Except for Jenna Marie. She was in every freaking class with me. I think it was some divine joke—putting the pink princess next to the Goth girl. Well, I wasn’t really Goth. I just wore solid black a lot. The dark color suited me.
Slouching in class, I watched the clock tick slowly, counting the minutes until the bell. I made the motions as I went through the day, trying not to talk to anyone. I was moderately successful.
Jenna Marie didn’t care that I didn’t want to talk. She talked enough for two people.
“Pink would be a great color on you, Ivy,” her voice was perky. Perky irritated me. Sitting ramrod straight in her seat, she sat across the aisle from my desk.
Starring straight ahead I mumbled, “I like black. Thanks.” Talking about my monochromatic wardrobe was a daily ritual for her. This was what I got for getting to class on time. I’d rather sit in detention. My eyes drifted up to the clock, watching the second hand tick one tock at a time. I prayed for the bell to ring.
“But you have such pretty hair. Those beautiful, hazelnut curls would just pop with pink! And you wear black every day.” She frowned at me. “I haven’t seen you wear another color in over a year. It’s time to think pink!” Looking at her, my eyebrows rose in incredulity into my hairline. The bell rang, and snipped off rude words that had formed on my tongue.