First Love Only Love (The Life 2)

She makes me want to laugh. I didn’t recognize the sensation before since it’s so foreign to me, but she tickles something inside of me that had lain dormant for a very long time. “You’re cute; you know that. Sheath your claws and stop hissing; there’s no need to be jealous.”

“I’m not.” She mumbled the words and went back to hiding again.

I retook the hand she’d pulled away from me in her little show of pique, feeling a kind of warmth that has been missing from my life forever. I realized now that I had removed one of the obstacles from her path that I was actually looking forward to the next step. There was still a long way to go, but I no longer felt detached, like I was just doing it to do it like I would for any stranger in need.

I was willing to admit, at least to myself, that she was more than just a chore or one of my projects. In short, I think I like her, which is a big step for me. “What’re you smiling about?” She’s getting braver with the questions.

“Am I? I didn’t realize it.” I didn’t take her to my hiding spot or to an out-of-the-way place away from prying eyes. I had the insane urge to walk in the sunshine with her. Wait, sunshine, shit. “Are you cold?”

It’s freaking fall, and I forgot to get her a coat or jacket. I’m so used to wearing just sweaters this time of year that I forget most people are usually freezing by now. At least that’s what the women in my family claim when I turn the AC on in October. “I’m not too cold to walk.” She said the words in a rush as if she thought I’d turn back, and something about her wanting to stay made something inside me soften.

Her eyes, those eyes that first caught my attention and reeled me in, gazed up at me now with longing and hope and just a sad hint of fear. See, this is what I was afraid of. Exactly when did I cross the line? I never meant for her to see anything in me or want anything from me other than what I am willing to give.

But when she looks at me like that, and her being her, with all the baggage that she comes with, something in me wants to hold on, to shelter, to protect. “I’m going to get you a pair of the darkest shades on the market.” She squinted at me like I’d spoken a foreign language.

“Why?” Because your eyes could be my downfall. I didn’t answer; of course, I just held her hand a little tighter and carried on walking.

BECKY

I need a cigarette or something much stronger. My nerves are shot, and no matter what I do, I can’t beat the shakes. I’ve grown hoarse from yelling; now I’m just sitting here waiting for the other shoe to drop. I dread having to tell Felix about this, I don’t have the face, plus lately, he seems to be pulling away just here in the last couple of days.

When I first got the call to come to pick Victoria up from school, I thought she’d fallen ill or something less stressful. I never would’ve thought in a million years that it would be over something like this. And now she’s not even talking, just locked herself away in her room, so I have no idea what really happened. All they’d say is that she bullied some other kid, and they have it on film.

I can’t believe Victoria could be that careless; she has never been before. She knows as well as I do how much our livelihood depends on us showing the world and Felix, especially Felix, the innocent face we’ve both worn for the last decade or so.

I’ve worked too hard, endured too much, for it to all fall apart like this. Something tells me this has something to do with Gia. The little bitch is turning out to be just as much of a pain in the ass as her mother, the perfect saint with the gold spoon in her mouth.

Thinking of her brought to mind that picture, the one they claim is Gia, but I know better. There’s no way two people could look that much alike unless they were twins. Someone had found an old picture of Adrienne somewhere and, with technology being what it is, had placed her there at that table with those people.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Gia’s body, but I’m sure there’s no way she could have the same shape, height, and physical makeup as her long-dead mother. But why would someone do this? And who? What do they know? I bit my nails down to the quick as I slouched over in the chair, rocking from nerves and anxiety.