Objective (Bloodlines #2)(24)
Chapter 9
“Sometimes lies were more dependable than the truth.”- Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game.
Ever feel that you’re the only sane one swimming against the current in a sea of stupid? I feel that way every single day. People mill about smiling and living happy lives not ever knowing or thinking about all the bad shit that happens in life. They walk right past me and they have no idea that they’re smiling at a terrible person. No idea that they’re right next to a dangerous person. It never even crosses their minds to question me. I look normal. I look nice. I look sweet and innocent. Mostly I look beautiful and beautiful people are charmed in life. If you are stunning you can get away with murder.
I push through the throng of people at the mall and into Tempo. I have today and tomorrow off and I really have an itch to kick back and relax. I mill about the store looking for some slouchy, comfortable wear that won’t draw attention to me. I get enough attention at work. It’s great for tips but goes against every grain of who I am. I hate being the center of attention. I hate drawing men’s gazes and I hate being touched. After an hour I settle on three new hoodies, two pairs of yoga pants and a new pair of low slung jeans that look great and are still comfortable. I always was a t-shirt and jeans kind of girl and some habits die hard.
I stop for a Jamba Juice in the food court and watch people as they pass me by. I watch as they half-smile when they cut in line or hold a door to be polite. They don’t know the day each other has had or where the other’s head is at. They’re not friends. It’s interesting to watch the interactions from afar. I was always intrigued by sociology and psychology. I shake my head from that train of thought and take a deep breath. My life now is fine. I make decent money, I have what I need in life to survive and I wake up every morning still breathing. That’s all that matters. I don’t let myself think about my old life or where I might be right now had things been different. It’s pointless, it is what it is and I’ve come to accept that.
On my way out of the mall I stop at the Best Buy and buy a GoPhone. I pay the clerk for the phone and for a fifty dollar wireless airtime card and head back to the parking lot. Every time I see my car I have to laugh just a little bit. He would have hated this car. Hell, I would have hated it then, but now there is something comforting about the big old beast. No pretenses. No promises of being anything that it’s not. Just an old, huge, reliable car. I slide into the car and toss my bags towards the passenger side. I feel under the driver’s seat for my pistol and breathe a little sigh of relief when I feel it safely tucked away.
By the end of April, Cane and I were an exclusive couple. We were almost inseparable. Aster constantly made gagging noises whenever she caught us together, and getting a rise out of Aster seemed to be Cane’s favorite game to play. Every touch, every word that came from Cane set my soul on fire. I felt like he was my missing puzzle piece. I’d never felt anything so intense and awe-inspiring before. We were still taking it easy on the physical portion of our relationship, or rather he kept insisting we didn’t ‘go too far’. I was dying to be with him. I knew without a doubt that I was ready and that I wanted him to be my first but for some reason he still thought he wasn't good enough for me. I knew it was hard for him to put on the breaks in the middle of me grinding all over him in the heat of the moment, and it infuriated me when he finally pushed me away, but I trusted him and his intentions. I knew that when he let it happen it would be perfect in every way.
Yesterday he’d officially asked me to prom. It was the most ridiculous grand gesture I’ve ever been witness to. He gotten on top of the lunch table in the cafeteria and proposed we go to prom together - in front of everyone. I must have turned seven shades of red that day. He’d handed me half a dozen red roses and laughed when I said, ‘Yes, now please get down off the table,’ and ducked my head as the cafeteria erupted in cheers and applause. However embarrassing it was, it was also equal parts the most romantic thing that ever happened to me. He’s become an addiction that I can’t seem to help. I crave the time of day when we can finally be together. Watching movies, going on bike rides or just taking a walk together, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re side by side. I hate spending time away from him. I hate knowing that he goes to his crappy house to his weird uncle when he’s not with me.
“Helloooo, Cypressss...” Aster sang, snapping me from my thoughts.
“Huh?” I blurted.
“I asked your opinion about the dress, you turd.” She looked completely irritated at my lack of attention towards her. She tapped her foot in a floor length ball gown. The deep navy color made her pale skin look like porcelain. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back and the slim fit through the waist showed off her curves. She looked stunning.
“That’s the one!” I shouted excitedly. “You look amazing, Aster. Really. It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?” she asked, looking down at herself and then doing a three-sixty in the mirror of the changing room.
“Yup,” I confirmed. She smiled her beautiful bright smile at me before disappearing into the fitting room and changing back into her clothes. We brought the dress to the register, paid for it with her dad’s credit card and headed out in search of the perfect shoes.
I daydreamed about it a lot…what I’d wear, how I’d fix my hair, what kind of corsage my date would bring me, how I would dance. Prom was the highlight, to me, of our senior year. I wanted it to be perfect. The plan? Meet up with Aster and her date, Jim, for dinner, then convoy over to the big event for an evening of dancing, fun, and magic! It was going to be so perfect!! I stood in the foyer of my house with my stepmom on one side of me and my dad pacing back and forth on the other. I smoothed my hands down over my black, fitted floor-length silk dress. My stepmom spent three hours curling and pinning up my long black locks, but the outcome was stunning. I wore a little more makeup than normal but not too much. I must have done something right because when I came downstairs my dad’s eyes had bugged out and he demanded that I change. Carol and I had just laughed at him. The knock on the door startled him. I watched Carol shoot him a look before he swung the door open. Our prom theme was Mafia so Cane went with a blood red cummerbund and mini-roses for his boutonnière. He stepped through the threshold after shaking my dad’s hand and when I caught sight of him in his white tux my draw dropped. Carol nudged my shoulder and I instantly picked my jaw up off the floor.