Chapter Thirteen

Eva

     “You’re distracted.”

McMillan’s smooth voice cuts through my third run of the Arabian routine short. I glance at his reflection haloed in the early morning light pouring through the massive windows behind him.

        And in other ground-breaking observations: water is wet.

        “I’m sorry.” I breathe, trying my best to ignore the scowl pinching his sharp brows. I hate when he looks at me like this. As if I’m falling short of some basic standard.

        Honestly it’s a miracle I can dance at all after my clusterfuck of a night. Of all of the days I really need the quiet time in the studio, McMillan has to make a surprise visit and charge the whole vast room up with his razor-like energy. The past hours have been akin to the world’s worst acupuncture treatment.

        “I don’t need your apology, Evangeline,” His head tilts to the side as he clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “I need to know what has distracted you from your goals.”

        Ugh. I swear he keeps using the word goals like I go home every night and finger myself to the idea of landing a principal position at a company.

        “It’s nothing important,” I lie through my teeth as my eyes slink to my phone, laying dark and silent by my bags. I slept like shit last night. I feel like shit this morning, and I’m pretty damn sure everything will just keep getting shittier until Jamie and I talk. 

        At least we work together tonight. He has to talk to me then.

        “Are you sure it’s not important?” McMillan presses. Crossing the room and stopping inches from my back. He holds my stare through the mirror as he advances. “You can talk to me.”

        His words sound concerned, but his eyes look vexed.

        “I’m okay,” I maintain through a tight smile. 

        “It’s not a boy, I hope,” He chuckles.

        “Of course not,” I laugh with him like he didn’t just hit the nail right on the angsty tattooed head. “I had trouble sleeping last night.”

        “Good.” McMillan’s eyes drop from the mirror to my shoulder blades, cutting me where they land. He makes that clicking noise with his tongue again as he studies my back, then he lays his cool palm flat against my skin and pushes lightly. 

        My first instinct is to jerk away from his touch, but I hold myself still. He knows what he’s doing and I’m not trying to be a brat just because I keep dreaming about Jamie’s hands on my bare skin every night and anything else feels fucking sacrilege.

        “Pull your shoulder back just a bit,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes on my back. “Your posture is affecting your performance.”

        “Yes, sir.”

        His gaze remains on my shoulder blades as his mouth pulls into a handsome smile. He drops his hand, his fingers dragging just a moment, and finally raises his eyes to my reflection. He takes a slow step back, holding me hostage with an enigmatic expression before finally turning on his heel and returning to the barre.

        “Take it from the top.”

        I run through it a few more times, taking care to keep my shoulders back as I move through the steps. Posture isn’t usually a struggle for me, but my mood seems to be rounding the hell out of my spine. By the fourth go there’s sounds from students milling about the halls. I walk towards my bags to change from my pointe shoes and sneak a covert look at my messages.

        One from Declan. A good morning gorilla meme I’ll be sure to delete before opening. I never should have told him I was terrified of those things.

        A message from Chris, I’ll check later.

        And one from Nina… asking to pick up my shift tonight.

        My heart plunged into the floor. Friday’s are insane for Nina. She’s on campus for class almost as early as me. Then she stops down in Butchertown to check in on her dad. And that’s not including all of the Halloween mayhem she’s brought upon herself this week. So, this seemingly harmless request to pick up a shift on the least convenient day of the year, might as well be an early morning declaration from Jamie that I'm on his shit list.

        If he wasn’t acting like such a wishy-washy fuck stick, we wouldn’t be in a fight. I unwrap the ribbons to my shoes with an overzealous gusto.

        “Tell me, Evangeline...”

        My body jerks with a startled cringe at McMillan’s use of my full name. I was so caught up in my sour wallowing that I almost forgot the fact that I’m not alone right now. 

        “Why did you pick Julius University?”

        I freeze.

        “Because,” I laugh nervously, low key hating the direction of this line of questioning. There’s a specific answer he wants, and I don’t know if I can deliver it honestly. “Everyone knows the Santiago School of Dance is fantastic.”

        “So is Julliard… yet you didn’t even apply.” 

        Shit, how would he even know that?

        “Well,” I stand slowly, crossing my arms tight across my chest to protect myself from the unexplored dynamics of his observation. “They aren’t known for their business program.”

        Wrong answer.

        Shame instantly floods me at his tight expression. “I mean… it’s not like it’s my priority… but it’s still nice to have the best of both worlds, I guess.”

        “Evangeline,” McMillan chuckles softly before moving towards me with an unknown intent that sends me retreating a step. “Your body was not made for business.”

        Everything stops the second he says the word body.

My brain.

My blood.

My lungs pause halfway through and exhale. What the fuck do I say to that?

        Then he chuckles again, shaking his head as if he’s wise beyond my years.

        “Get some rest tonight. It’s affecting your posture.”

Chapter 13.5

Jamie

“Where’s Neen?”

I’m punching in for my Thursday night shift when I notice Ryan is setting up the tables. 

        “She’ll be in later.” Luke makes a big show of rolling his eyes like he doesn’t think the sun shines straight from his new girlfriend’s asshole. “She’s pretty much threatened Ry within an inch of his life to give her a few hours off so she can help Eves out.” 

Help Eva out for her mother fucking date with Dickless.

        “Of course, that’s where she is.” I clench my fists as I move in front of the cutting board to chop some fruit and pretend that I’m not suffocating from the reminder. “She’s so far up Eva’s ass I’m surprised she doesn’t smell like shit.”

        Luke’s smile freezes on his face, going from Captain America to The Homelander in a heartbeat. “What did you just say?”       

To anyone who didn’t know him, his response wouldn’t look like much, but I hear the threat in my best friend’s tone loud and clear.

        Works for me.

    I’m happy to go at it with anyone about anything if it means I get a break from envisioning Eva out with that sorry excuse for a man. With his stupid Justin Bieber haircut, and his scrawny arms… he’d be fucking useless if he ever had to defend her and that’s if  he even tried. I wouldn’t put it past the pansy little shit to just ditch her in a tight situation. It’s been all I can fucking think about for a week now.

        Goddamnit, now I want to hit something.

        As if reading my mind, Luke takes a single step towards me, all extra chill and shit. “Say it again.” 

        “What?” Honestly, I don’t even remember what we were talking about now that my mind is once again stuck on Eva and Dickless

        “Your shitty little comment just now. Say it again. I dare you.” He steps into my space, he’s still smiling nice and easy. Always friendly as hell straight through till the final blow. 

        I laugh humorlessly. “You gonna hit me, friend?”

        “Keep talking about Nina like that and we won’t be friends much longer.”

I obviously crossed a line that I’d normally respect, both for Luke and because I actually love Nina; but today...

         What can I say, I’m at my goddamned worst.

        “Yo! What the hell is going on over there?” Ryan’s dumbass dad voice booms across the room as he barges up to the bar. “Both of you back up. Now!”

        Luke doesn’t move a muscle. Clearly willing to throw down behind the bar over the girl he loves. If it were anywhere else I’d see his challenge, but I’m not fucking up The Underground. The two of them have put far too much blood and sweat into this place for me to ruin it just because I’m spoiling for a fight. So, after a heavy few seconds, I slowly raise my hands in surrender but keep the shitty smirk on my face and step back.

        “Now take what you said the fuck back.” Luke says, still unsatisfied.

        “Okay.” I laugh.

        That’s as much as he’s getting back from me. One because I still don’t remember what I actually said, and two because I’m not big on apologies.

        Thankfully for all of us, Luke gets me and accepts my ‘okay’ as a peace offering because I no sooner say it that his shoulders relax. He nods once and heads off towards the other end of the bar to give himself a few minutes to calm down.

        “My office. Now.” Ryan snaps. 

        I follow him to the little closet he calls a work space and squeeze myself in, taking a seat. He sits in his own plush office chair and spins my way with a grave face.

        “You can’t keep doing this shit, man.” Ryan says. I assume he’s talking about my work place behavior in general before he continues. “It’s not everyone’s responsibility to be miserable with you.”

        The fuck?

        “You have a problem with Eves going on a date, then talk to her about it like a grown up. Don’t pick fights with everyone around you. All you’re doing is fucking isolating yourself and that won’t make anything better.”

        Eva always refers to Ryan as a meddler… I see it now.

        I fold my arms and lean back, leveling him with a look meant to cut. “Mind your fucking business, Ry.”

        He laughs angrily. “See I would… but you came into my bar today and almost fought your boss.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Look, I’m going to give you some advice and I suggest you take it for your own sanity.”

        “No thanks.”

        “Too fucking bad.” He rests his elbows on his knees and holds my stare in a vice as his brown eyes open up, swirling with tragic feelings that I know so well. “Let people in. I don’t know your story or whatever but if there’s one thing I learned from my own shit— it’s that your burdens are easier to carry if you’re with people you care about. You obviously care about Eva. Don’t push her away because you’re scared.”

        I can’t breathe for a second as a crush of memories press against me, falling through my mind like shuffling cards.

        Her scream.

        Her hand slipping through mine.

        Our eyes connecting.

        It takes me a minute to fight my way back from the brink of the past. I take in a few breaths and focus on what I do best, being a cold asshole.

        “Yeah Ry. You’re so well adjusted. You hide in everyone else’s shit so that you can avoid your own. Tell me more about how I can fix all my problems so that you don’t have to deal with yours.”

        “Fuck you,” He laughs bitterly. “I’m not pretending to have all the answers. I’m just trying to take care of what I fucking have… that is better than what you’re doing.”

        “And what is that, Buddha?”

        “Burning your house to the ground.” There’s enough raw emotion in his voice to keep my mouth shut long enough for him to continue. “Go home. Luke can’t be on the bar with you tonight.”

        “He can’t man it by himself.” I argue.

        “We’ll make do until Neen gets in, then I’ll take over your shift. But there’s no way in living fuck you’re working tonight. Go home. Get your head straight.”

**********

Eva

  I wipe the steam off of my bathroom mirror and stare grimly at my reflection. I haven’t been sleeping well and it shows. There’s blue shadows under my eyes and my normally rosy chipmunk cheeks are pale. Nina is going to have her work cut out for her tonight.

        Right on cue there’s a brisk knock on my door and I hear her walk in, all of her hair and makeup gear clanking as she sets it down on my counter.

        “Doll! You have two minutes to get out here before I come after you!” She calls, as she clamors about setting everything up. “Ryan is a shit server and he’s going to make a mess of everything while I’m gone. I gotta get’cha ready for this date and hurry back!”

        I pull my robe on and towel dry my hair. Then shuffle my feet out of my bathroom over to the counter. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just cancel?” I ask sullenly. I’ve been putting on a good face for everyone so far. I only allow myself to pout and wallow in private, but there’s really no point in trying when it’s just Nina and me. She sees right through my act like freshly cleaned glass and she’s not here for my bullshit.

        She whips her head around and pops a no-nonsense fist on her hip. “We went over this already.”

        We have. A lot. But no matter how many times she talks me up over tonight, I can’t summon any enthusiasm. The idea of hanging out with Chris when I’m in knots over Jamie just depresses me even more than I already am.

        After swiping my shift last Friday, he skipped pasta night at my place and became a damn ghost. No texts, no impromptu fire escape hang outs, no pizza nights… nothing. The closest I’ve gotten to seeing him was hearing a girl moan his name the other night when I made the massive mistake of leaving my window open.

        Damnit, I saw more of him when he hated me.

        Throw in my birthday coming up on top of everything else and I’ve been the most pathetic version of myself all week. I plop down on the stool and take the glass of wine Nina filled up for me. “It just feels like a waste of time and a little dishonest.” I mumble.

        “Jesus, stop being dramatic,” she laughs smacking my shoulder as she begins working different products into my hair. “You’re just going on a date, not pledging fealty to him.” She steals a small sip of my wine. “Besides, going out with someone outside of this building will be good for you.”

        Says the girl who doesn’t go out with anyone outside of the building. I wisely keep that thought to myself since my best girl has an active grip on my hair. 

        Nina goes to work making me beautiful, chatting nonstop about stupid Halloween as she works. She blow-dries my hair and curls it leaving it light and bouncy. Then she turns me around to face her and applies my makeup. She opts for a nude shimmery eyeshadow then takes a liquid liner and paints on a bold cat eye. She tops the look off with a generous coating of mascara to my lashes and some gold tinted highlighter on my cheeks.

        “My god, you’re gorgeous! Okay, go get dressed and then I’ll do your lips.” She shoos me off to my room. 

         I stop in the mirror and admire her work. I really do look good. I love the cat eye. I need to have her teach me to use liquid eyeliner. I go through my closet and pull out a finely pleated yellow chiffon midi skirt, a black fitted long sleeved crop top, and some black patent leather pumps. Once I’m dressed I head back to Nina.

        “Is this alright?” I do a little twirl feeling a tiny bit more pep in my step now that I’m dressed.

        “Perfect, now get over here and let’s do a red lip!” She gives the stool a little pat.

        My mouth pulls to the side as I make my way over. “Are you sure red is a good idea? What if he smudges it up?”

        “Evangeline St. Clair!” She pauses and slowly turns to me with a wicked glint. “What kind of trouble are you looking to get up to on this date?” 

        “Ha. No.” I scoff with a bored eye roll. “I mean if he kisses me, and it’s bad, it’s going to get all messed up.”

        “Well if it’s good it’ll definitely get messed up,” she points out with a laugh, but then her brows knit together in concern. “Wait, why are you assuming it’ll be bad?”

        “Meh, they always are.” Aside from last Thursday, every kiss I’ve ever had has been abysmal. And even that barely counted as a kiss. It was mostly me attempting to draw blood.

But my god…

Those few seconds of pure rage induced lunacy were enough to ruin me for all mankind.

I fiddle with my skirt, hoping to quell the useless heat the memory of last week stirs. “Chances of tonight ending with a good kiss are min—“

        Out of absolutely nowhere, Nina shoots forward grabbing my face as she shoves her tongue deep and hard in my mouth then licks my teeth. As fast as she went in, she pulls back.

        “Well,” She chirps sharpening her red lip liner. “At least it won’t be the worst kiss you’ve had tonight.”

         She flips her hair with a saucy wink.

“What the hell was that?” I burst into genuine laughter for the first time all week. “I cannot believe you just did that!” 

        “Doll, it would have been so much worse if I hadn’t just put all that work into your make up.” She applies the lipstick then sprays my face with setter. No sooner does she finish, that a text from Chris comes in letting me know he’s here.

        I’m still laughing over that what-the-fuck-kiss she planted on me as we head out into the hall. I’m locking my door when Nina stops and looks up.

        “Hey, you’re not working tonight?” She calls.

        Following her gaze, I freeze.

Jamie slowly descending the stairs. My lips part allowing me to pull in an erratic breath.

        Why do I always forget how handsome he is?

        “Could say the same to you.” He replies, his hollow sea blues zoomed in on me. 

         How can one voice be void of emotion yet still evoke so much within me?

        “Oh, I’m heading in now. Just had to get my girl ready for her date.” 

        He goes still. 

        “Doesn’t Eva look nice Jamie?” There’s a distinct edge to her tone that demands compliance.

         He nods stiffly but doesn’t move beyond that.

         I feel her hand on my arm as she spins me forward, releasing me from the vice of his stare. “Have a great time with Chris! And don’t stress about kissing.” Her voice is loud like she's deliberately projecting it throughout the stairwell. Then she gives my backside a swift swat and sends me on my way.

***********

Jamie

“Cold shower,” I mutter once I realize beating the shit out of the bag isn’t going to help curb the hot anger sitting in my stomach like a brick. 

        I shouldn’t have turned around when Nina called out to me on my way up here. I knew what I was going to see, but I did it anyway like a goddamn moron and now I can’t get the mental image of Eva with that yellow skirt hiked up around her hips, her tight crop top pushed up to her neck, and those blood red lips parted on a scream as she rides me as hard as she fucking can.

        God, the things I could to do to her in that skirt.

        Except she’s not dressed up all pretty for me. She’s wearing that understated wet dream of an outfit for Dickless and his stupid fucking haircut. So, no matter how hard I throw my punches or who I pick a fight with, I can’t make the anger go away. 

        It should be my mouth on her tonight, not that sack of shit.

        I stalk through the apartment, ripping the tape off my hands with my teeth as I make my way to the bathroom. I strip and brace my hands against the wall, locking my jaw down against the frigid water, but it’s still not cold enough to cool me the fuck off. I thump my head against the wet tile, refusing to jerk my dick in the shower like some pathetic chump. 

        “Fuck!” I slam my palm against the tile, so goddamn pissed at myself for getting to this point in the first place. Eva was quickly becoming one of the few people I actually enjoyed being around and I had to ruin it.

Because no matter how much I want it, I’d destroy her if she let me. 

        The worst part is that I want her to let me. 

        I should probably get some sleep, but I know from experience, closing my eyes when I’m this worked up is a bad fucking idea. I’m not that reckless. My day has been shitty enough without throwing a nightmare on top of everything.

        Without lifting my head from the wall, I turn the water off but stay in the shower, shivering from the cold and trying my fucking damnedest to get ahold of myself. 

        In a last-ditch effort to calm the hell down, I end up reverting to an old trick from when I was kid and hum, trying to create a melody in my head. I don’t expect it to work, once I started trying to write this little exercise ceased to sooth me. It only served as a reminder of all I’m incapable of doing. 

        I start simple, humming scales as I let my mind wander to my last really good memory. 

        The beach.

        Eva dancing in my arms as she smiled up at me from her little swan pose while her beloved Goo Goo Dolls song sailed up the beach. A song that’s apparently about a lot of shit all at once. A song she loves but can’t dance to.

        I’m humming Black Balloon.

        I can relate. I have a guitar I love to play but I can’t write music.

        “I don’t know… something about when you sing… everything just makes sense.”

        Now I’m humming La Vie en Rose. 

It’s crazy how I used to try my best not remember this song. Mom always loved it. Anything that reminds me of her I avoid. But now it makes me think of Eva too. It’s been stuck in my head since that first time I heard her laugh.

        “I’m babbling, aren’t I?” She smiled with her chin propped up in her hands.

        I keep humming

        That fucking wind chime laugh. Even when I couldn’t stand her, the sound would turn me out. 

        “Man, you're charming...” she grinned, holding my big busted hand in her pristine, slender fingers.

         I hum the canter of her laugh.

        “...Everything just makes sense...”

        I dress and walk to the window. I have a glass of cheap bourbon in one hand and the neck of my guitar the other. My ribs thump from my pounding heartbeat as I sit on the sill, plucking the strings to mimic that winds-chime sound. I picture her dancing on the beach laughing and twirling in the sun.

        Then think of her in dirty pointe shoes, flying across the subway platform and suddenly, my fingers are moving along the strings of my guitar in a melody I’ve never heard… but somehow know.

Fuck me…

I’m writing a song.