“What happened? Heat got to you again?” Shaking his head with a chuckle, Jace played off my mishap. “I can’t take you anywhere.” He tugged me to my feet, then tucked me under his arm. “Thanks, guy. I got her now.”
Turning me around, he urged me forward, speaking discreetly. “Hold it together, baby girl. We’ll be home in a minute. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, love.”
I peeked back between our shoulders. The mystery man remained motionless, one hand on the dirt, the other on his leg as he kneeled beside Big Jim, watching each step of my retreat. I couldn’t shake the numbingly breathless effect of having those eyes directed at me. A regular girl probably would have introduced herself, said thank you. But I wasn’t a regular girl. I was me.
Looking forward, I buried my face in Jace’s neck, feeling the familiar burn invade my throat.
I exist on a scattered plane. A place where lightness and darkness meet somewhere in between. Uneven slats I maneuver around and hop across, trying to maintain stability. Some shedding enough light to shine and others enough darkness to hide behind. I live in the gray area. The bubble in the middle, never sure which direction to go.
Tap, tap, tap. My pen bounced off the page.
I’d dreamed of this day for so long. My world centering around this very moment for hours on end, thinking it would all be different once I got here; that I’d take back control and make something of myself.
So why didn’t I feel relieved? And why did my insides still feel so dirty?
I sucked in a ragged breath, expelling the air slowly to tame my erratic heartbeat.
Free. I was finally free.
Lies.
I could tell myself that all I wanted, but I never would be, would I? Didn’t deserve to be. I’d brought all this upon myself, and asked for every bit of torture that came after the night I handed over my soul, sealing the deal with the devil himself. Now, I was his little fucking puppet—a marionette dangling from his strings.
“Evangelina Ricci.” My name pulled me out of my distracted haze.
Great. Minute five, day one, and I’m already fucking this up. I shook my head like an Etch-A-Sketch, attempting a clean pallet, and sat up straighter in my chair, focusing on the balding man at the front of the room.
Time to turn on the charm.
“Yes, Professor Klein,” I answered in the sweetest voice I could muster.
His frown deepened as he peered over the top of his glasses, scanning the crowd, then softened just a bit when he zeroed in on me. “A simple present would suffice. Try to stay with us would you please, Miss Ricci?”
Really? Roll call in college? “Yes, of course. Sorry, sir.”
“Thank you.” He continued on. “Ryan Stevens . . . Seymour Townsend . . .”
I knotted my sweaty hands together and wedged them between my bouncing thighs, looking around the class at my peers. Curling my back, I slid lower in the hard plastic chair. After the scene I’d caused this weekend, I wondered if I could pull this off at all, or if I’d be forced to slink back home with my tail between my legs.
Fuck that.
I wasn’t going back there. Not until I was ready.
Coming here was nothing more than the coward’s way out, disguised as plans for a bright future. I tucked my demons away behind goals and ambitions; swallowed them down and buried them deep within myself; imbedding them further into my soul.
The plan had always been the same. Do well in school, make lots of money, establish a great career, and make a name for myself. I needed to ensure I could run wherever—whenever I wanted, and be independent on my own. It was such a lonely existence, but it got me through.
Except my brain was never still. It was such an effort to weed through the ramblings in my head and make sense of them that I found myself perpetually exhausted. Another punishment of mine.
No peace.
You’re not going to do this right now. Focus!
I straightened my spine and managed to get through the rest of class taking notes and going through the motions, keeping any negative thoughts at bay. I even answered a few redeeming questions before hightailing it out of there.
I could do this.
The hall had that first day feel. A bunch of people with nervous smiles and wandering eyes shimmying about. The anxiety in the air was thick—girls toting giant backpacks, guys trying to act laid back, but the doubt in their eyes giving them away.
A high-pitch screech shrilled in my ears. “Eva!”
I stopped walking and sighed inwardly, just needing a few minutes alone. I’d left New Jersey as one of the most popular girls in the town, and it seemed to have followed me to Manhattan.
Cue cheesy, overly friendly smile. “Hey, Jessie. What’s up?” I didn’t want her to think I didn’t like her. We’d met when she bumped into me while buying school books. She kept apologizing and insisting I let her buy me a coffee to make it up to me. Ever since, we were becoming fast friends.