The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels 1.5)

“Roman –”

“You look like a fairy,” he says over me, bringing his hand up and tracing a finger down my cheek.

My mouth parts at his touch and the world disappears.

And I think, you look like a villain.

That’s what he looks like, isn’t it?

Dressed in black and dark bruises, the guy I’m in love with looks like a villain.

“Are you drunk?” I ask instead.

He looks down at the bottle in his hand. “A little.”

I swallow painfully. Thickly.

Fearfully.

“I won,” he says then, his busted lips stretching up in a smile.

A smile that looks so misplaced, so boyish and adorable on his sharp, villainous face.

“You –”

“I fucking won the game, Fae. I won. I’m the goddamn champion. Did you see?”

My eyes sting as I nod.

“You did, huh? I was pretty badass out there.” Chuckling, he takes a sip of his vodka. “More than your fucking brother.”

“What –”

“Hey, what about your show?” he asks, speaking over me again. “Fuck, did I miss it?”

“I don’t care about the show. I –”

“If after all that practice, I missed your first-class, fantastic show, then I’m an asshole. I’m a motherfucking asshole. You should be mad at me. Here.” He waves his free hand. “Hit me. Slap me in the face, Fae. Slap me in the fucking face –”

“No, Roman, listen to me.” I speak over him, putting an end to his drunken rambling. “What happened?”

He appears perplexed. “When?”

I shake my head. “On the field. What happened?” I swallow again. “God, look at you. You’re all banged up. What happened, Roman?”

He chuckles. “You should see the other guy.”

“What did you say to him?”

“What did I say to whom?”

I fist my hands for a second, trying to keep my wits about me. Then, “Roman, please, okay? Can you focus for a second? Just… please. What did you say to my brother? What did you say to Ledger? Why did he… Why did he punch you? Why did you guys fight?”

I’m not sure if he’s getting the gravity of the situation because his reaction is pretty casual.

His reaction is to squint his eyes slightly and shrug. “Ah, that. The fight.”

“What happened, Roman?”

He takes a gulp of his vodka, swallowing loudly. “Yeah, I might have mentioned something.”

My heart thuds. “W-what?”

He shrugs again. “I might’ve said something about me giving you a ride in my Mustang. About you loving it and fogging up my windows.” A frown. “Not in those words though. I was dirtier than that but you know what I mean.”

“Y-you what?”

Reed sighs then. “Look, I just wanted to piss him off, all right. He was gonna score. I had to do something. It was the championship game. My last chance to win.”

“Your last chance to win.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to win.” He bends down slightly. “But if it makes you feel any better, I only won by two goals. Your brother was a worthy opponent. You should tell him that tonight. Tell him I said that. Tell him Reed said that he’s good. A real pain in my ass with how good he is. But you know, the best man won. Tell him to not cry too much in his pillow.”

There’s a pain in my chest. A massive, gigantic pain, but I power through.

I power through because this isn’t real, right?

This isn’t him.

This isn’t how he behaves.

He’s never this drunk. He’s never this… cruel.

He’s had plenty of opportunities to be cruel.

He’s had plenty of opportunities to be a player, a heartbreaker, to be all those things that they call him, but he’s never taken them.

No, this isn’t him.

He’s never broken a promise to me and I refuse to believe that he did now.

Even though I saw it with my own eyes. Even though I saw it in my brothers’ eyes, both Conrad’s and Ledger’s.

“What are you doing?” I burst out, desperately. “Why are you acting this way?

He thinks about it for a second. “I’m not acting.”

“You promised,” I remind him. “You made that pact with Ledger, remember? The pact that you were so crazy about. You promised you wouldn’t tell. You promised you wouldn’t use me against Ledger. You promised me that the first time I danced for you. You had tons of opportunities to do that but you never did and –”

“Right. I lied.”

“What?”

He drinks from his bottle again. “I lied. I made it all up.”

“You lied.”

“Yeah. I kinda do that.” He shrugs again. “One of my many bad habits but I try to love myself for who I am. I think self-acceptance is a very intriguing concept. It basically –”

I grab his t-shirt in my fists and snap, “Stop.”

Finally, I think I’ve jerked him awake.

Finally, I think he’s seeing me, hearing me.

So I tell him, “This isn’t you. This isn’t how you behave. I know it. I know. People are wrong about you. They think you’re selfish and you’re a jerk and you’re bad. But you’re not. You love your sister. You take care of her. You take care of me. You’re not cruel. You’re not. You protected me, Roman. Last night. I thought about it.”