Trance Page 10

  “I don’t kiss on first dates.” I turned my head to the side trying to look down at my phone and scroll with my free hand. My hand was jittery, and I couldn’t press the buttons properly.

  “Maybe you just wanna fuck then?”

  Suddenly he was no longer pressing against me. It was like he’d been flung backward by an invisible force landing on the concrete on his back.

  Jason was standing over him, his fists clenched. “Get up. Get out of here.”

  The man stood and hesitated as he looked between Jason and me, as if sizing up the situation, then took off at a run down the street away from us.

  “Are you alright?” Jason came over to me, his hand on my cheek.

  I fell into his chest. My whole body tense, my heart thumping, my skin crawling. I didn’t want to think about what could of, would of, happened if Jason hadn’t found me.

  I couldn’t speak, I just let Jason hold me close, letting myself try and come to terms with how stupid I was to run and hide in the shadows in an unfamiliar area. Didn’t every girl know that was the worst thing you could do? I’m such an idiot.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I’m sorry I snapped. But, god, I am so happy that you’re okay.” He stroked my hair, as I snuggled further into his chest. “Why did you run? What did I do?”

  When I finally stopped gulping for air I looked up at him. “Not important.”

  He held my face in his hands. “It’s very important. It was so important that it made you take off and put yourself in danger.”

  I shook my head. “I know. I was mad.”

  “Why?”

  “Your drinking.”

  “My drinking? I only had three shots.”

  “You’re drinking every time we are together. You have a problem.”

  He laughed. In a situation that wasn’t even the remotest bit funny, he laughed out loud.

  “It’s not funny.”

  He got a hold of himself and stopped, pressing his lips together as if suppressing another chuckle that threatened to erupt. “I’m not a drunk.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Scarlett, did you look closely at the champagne that I served last night? At the label?”

  “Um, no.”

  “It was non-alcoholic.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it was.”

  I could feel my cheeks get red. “But, I felt tipsy, that’s why I was so…flirty. And why we, you know, did it on the first date.”

  “That was all on you. Can’t blame any alcohol for that I’m afraid.”

  “But, what about tonight?”

  “Yeah, three shots is enough to get a buzz, but it’s not going to make me drunk - at least not the watered down version that Gabriela serves at her restaurant.”

  “She waters down the tequila?”

  “She comes from a family that struggles financially. I let it go.”

  “Oh.”

  “So I’m not the drunk you think I am.”

  “Oh.” How could I have gotten this so wrong?

  “The only reason I had any shots at all tonight, was because… damn, because you make me so nervous.”

  “You don’t get nervous, you said so yourself.”

  “Around you I do.”

  I swallowed. My phone buzzed. I looked down to my hand. Lacey was just about here.

  “I rang Lacey. To pick me up.”

  He stepped back from me. He was no longer laughing, his eyes had turned serious. “I think you should go back with her tonight.”

  “I can’t go now. Not after I was so wrong.”

  “Go. I’ll wait with you until you are safely in her car. I think we’ve both had enough drama for one night.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to go now. I reached up and kissed him. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “So am I,” he said.

  I watched out of the window as I buckled my seat belt. Jason’s arms hung loosely by his side, his shoulders were hunched. “What’d you do to him?” asked Lacey.

  “I can’t believe I’m such an idiot.”

  “Not true. But I will of course, reserve judgment until after I hear the deets.”

  I slunk back into my chair as the car drove away. “How did I mess up so bad?”

  “Again, don’t have all the details, so can’t offer my friendly wisdom.”

  “And he was so sweet. I think I just scared him off for good.”

  “Doubtful. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Start at the beginning, from the moment he picked you up.” She turned the corner. She was heading to her apartment rather than my house, which, given the circumstances, I was grateful for. I couldn’t explain to my grandparents why I was home so early.

  She kept silent for the short ride home, as did I. I looked down at my hands, watching how the streetlights strobed light on and off them. She knew I’d tell her. Even though patience wasn’t her strongest attribute, she gave me the courtesy of quiet on the ride to her home.

  When we got to her place, I curled up on the couch, holding a cushion over my face. Lacey sat beside me, pulling her legs up underneath her.

  I took the cushion away and told her everything, from the moment he picked me up and took me to the restaurant, to my accusations. I told her about the man who attempted to attack me and probably would have if Jason hadn’t found me. And I told her how stupid I had been, given that I ran away, making accusations without asking him outright what was going on. When I had finally finished I had half a mind to place the cushion back over my face and press as hard as I could.

  “Have you told him about Dean, yet?”

  I lifted the cushion. “Of course not.”

  “I think you should.”

  “No way. That part of my life is over. I don’t want to talk about it, think about it, let alone admit I was ever with him.”

  “He might know already.”

  “He doesn’t know. He would have said something, or mentioned something. He wouldn’t want to date me if he really knew.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “How much do you really like him?”

  “I don’t know, we’ve only started dating.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Of course I like him. Why do you think I’ve gone batshit crazy again. I always get this way when I’m falling for someone.”

  She grinned. “So you're falling for him.”

  “Whatever.”

  “The first step to any good program is to admit you have a problem.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes.

  “No really,” she continued. “I’m serious. You need to tell him. Because if you do get involved with him, you don’t want him to stumble across it, either somewhere online or by someone mentioning it in public.”

  “It’s still online?”

  She shook her head. “No. But if his career takes off, there are plenty of journalists who’ll have all that stuff, and if they find out you’re dating, you know they are going to bring it up. You don’t want that.”

  I couldn’t tell him. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to. Why did I have to?

  “Then I’ll just have to sabotage his career so he doesn’t get too famous. Dating me should do it.”

  Lacey knew I was joking by the way she looked at me. “If you want to take this further, tell him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to go further with me. Maybe it’s already over. He did just tell me to come home with you, rather than him. He obviously doesn’t want to be around me anymore.”

  I bit my lip. That wasn’t true, was it?

  THIRTEEN

  An oversized fan with soft plastic fins stood on its side in our garage. Its height was just short of hitting the ceiling, and its width about the same. Bigger than Lacey’s closet, although definitely not as colorful. It had been made specifically to my grandfather’s specifications, and had cost a small fortune. That wasn’t the most expensive fan he’d ordered though.

  The blades
of this fan spun slow and lazy. On its lowest setting it took more than two seconds to make one full rotation. On its highest, it would spin three times that - this was barely enough to make any wind to cool you. Not that its purpose was breeze creation.

  The idea was my grandfather would step through a similar fan, with blades of sharp steel, just missing them so he wouldn’t be sliced to sausage meat. His arms would be cuffed, his eyes blindfolded. Only his sense of timing, listening as the blades whizzed past, the breeze on his face would tell him when to step, when to make the journey through.

  We had practiced the routine for three days, and he still wasn’t fast enough. His hip slowing him down every time.

  “Let’s do the saw trick instead,” I said. “You don’t need to do this one.”

  “If I’m to be remembered, I have to do something big. Something no one has done before.”

  “Well, I’d like to remember you in one piece.”

  He grinned. “We still have three weeks, I’ll get it. Have I ever flubbed a trick yet?”

  “Of course not, but you’ve never had a hip injury before either.”

  “Ye of little faith. My hip is barely bothering me now.”

  That was a lie. I’d seen him use the cane to walk many times when he thought I wasn’t watching.

  “Try it without the blindfold,” I said. “Until you get the right rhythm.”

  “Poppycock. I need to learn to do it the way I’m going to do it on stage. Otherwise, I won’t learn anything. I have one whole second to get through. It’s more than enough.”

  I placed the blindfold back over his eyes. “Step now,” I whispered.

  He took one step and then another. His body sagged to one side as he moved forward. He paused inches from the plastic blades and then strode through.

  The fan creaked, making a ticking sound as my grandfather’s foot caught the blade, trapping it against the edge. I sighed and freed him again, lifting the blindfold so he could see his mistake.

  “You’re going to have your foot chopped right off if we move to the metal fan.”

  “Nonsense, I need to practice more, that’s all.”

  “The fan will be twice the speed as this one.”

  “And you’ll distract the audience as the fan slows down for the second I step through. We’ve been over this.”

  “Or we could paint this one. I’ve seen some pretty realistic effects with paint. It could look just like stainless steel. The audience wouldn’t know.”

  He glared at me.

  I sighed. “Fine, let’s try it again.”

  We’d practiced different magic tricks all day and I was tired. My grandmother had made dinner and after picking over the selections, I glanced up at the clock. It was just after seven. I wondered if Lacey was still home. I could do with hearing her voice about now.

  I made my excuses, walked into my bedroom while dialing her number.

  It rang five times before going to messages. She must have left for her date already. I was hoping I’d catch her before she left, but that wasn’t to be. I wondered what else I could do this evening. I really didn’t want to spend another of it at home.

  I lay back on the bed, scrolling through all my messages. That wasn’t exactly true, I was looking for specific messages. Messages from Jason.

  After our date at the Mexican restaurant, the night that I acted crazy, I hadn’t seen him again. I missed him more than I realized, but it had been my own fault that I’d gotten so weird and pushed him away. Story of my life.

  I read over the last one he’d sent me - two days ago. ‘Weather is freezing here. Show is going well. See you when I get back, maybe.’

  Maybe. That word spun through my head over and over trying to figure out what message he was really sending. Did it mean he might get around to it, if he had time? Or was he trying to gauge my interest again, just waiting to catch me being ‘hot and cold’ as he put it.

  The day after our date, I called him. Lacey made me do it, she said I needed to stop letting him do all the chasing. This wasn’t the dark ages, she said, girls were able to chase boys without playing stupid hard to get games. The problem had always been, however, I was never playing.

  He was polite on the phone, asked how I was doing, if I needed anything. I was about to make plans to catch up again when he burst out the information that he’d be doing an out of state show for two weeks.

  I wished him luck and success and said goodbye. What else was I meant to say? Don’t go? We’d only just started seeing each other. Who the hell was I to tell him what to do or don’t do in his career after such a short time together. So I didn’t, of course. Like any normal person would.

  Problem was I didn’t think I acted much like a normal person these days. Especially since I couldn’t stop thinking about him, or reading old text messages from him trying to decipher hidden meanings in random words. I sighed and threw my phone to the end of my bed, looking up at the stars on my ceiling. The only real way to see if we have any sort of future was to have another date. A date where I didn’t act all crazy and freak out over nothing.

  Was that even possible with me?

  I woke with a jolt. There was a song playing somewhere near my feet. I looked down - my phone was ringing. I groggily picked it up looking at the screen. Lacey’s picture flashed at me. It was 12.19 am. After midnight already - jeez did I sleep that long? I hadn’t even gotten out of my clothes I’d worn during the day yet. I pressed the answer button.

  “Hello.” I yawned.

  “You were asleep? You little old lady, it’s still early. ”

  “Early for who? Nothing good happens after midnight, didn’t your grandparents ever tell you that?”

  She clucked her tongue. “I’ve been involved in plenty of delicious things that have happened after the clock strikes twelve as you know. Anyway, you should be thankful you have a friend like me to keep you young. Get over here - I have half a tub of ice-cream that has our name on it.”

  A shook my head trying to get the fogginess to disappear. “What happened to your date?”

  “Ice-cream first. Gossip second. And, believe me, once you hear about this gem of a date, you won’t think you’re such a freak anymore. Now hang up, wake up, and mosey on over.”

  “I think I’m too tired to drive.”

  “Find something to wake you up then. A good cold shower always works for me.”

  I stared at the bathroom. I didn’t have the energy for that. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t let it melt.”

  I stood up. My room felt dreamlike as I looked around for my car keys, the only light coming in from the street light outside. I spotted a glint of reflection from my keys, they lay on my clothes drawer next to the mirror. I walked over to get them, noticing my reflection and how my hair bunched up in a weird angle at the side of my head where I’d slept on it. I tried to pat it down, but it seemed determined to do its own thing.

  I walked out of my room and into the house that was quiet. My grandparents would have gone to bed long ago. I opened the door to outside and shut it behind me as quietly as possible. I still needed to wake up properly so took a deep breath of the midnight air.

  The light to the garage, where we had been practicing the fan trick, was still on. My grandfather had forgotten to switch it off, or I had forgotten. I couldn’t remember. The fan stood in the middle of the room. I shook away the sleep and turned it on. The low motor purred into life and the blades spun as groggily as I felt.

  I stood in front of it, with only the hint of breeze barely touching me. One, two, three, I stepped through.

  The fan creaked as it caught me, full body against the side. I couldn’t even get mostly the way through - how on earth was my grandfather going to do it? At least it had woken me up.

  I freed myself and shut it off, making sure I turned the garage light off and locked the door before walking outside and toward my car.

  Lacey had lied. She had two tubs of ice cream, not one. And they were both full to the b
rim. She handed me a spoon and a tub of Cherry Garcia, keeping the Banana Split for herself. The outside of the tub was still frosty and little specks of ice melted in my hand when it made contact with me.

  She sat on the couch cross-legged and took a mouthful, winking at me. “Got them on the way home. They were out of the Strawberry Cheesecake flavor. Bastards.” She took another spoonful and I did the same, letting the cherry flavor with its tart crispness blend with the creamy texture of the ice cream.

  “If you’re buying fattening food after a date, it can only mean he was sweet and charming. Which of course you’d never be interested in.”

  “Damn straight. Gotta do one bad thing tonight, and if it’s not going to be rolling around with whipped cream on my stomach, it’s his loss and my taste buds gain.”

  “So tell me what this sweet nobleman did, or rather didn’t do.”

  She groaned, although I couldn’t tell if it was because of the ice cream or what horror she was about to tell me.

  “He still lives with his parents. And he volunteers at a homeless shelter.”

  I frowned. “I live with my grandparents.”

  “Yeah, but you’re you. Plus you’re interesting, being an illusionist.”

  “Magician’s assistant,” I corrected.

  “Right, whatever. Look the homeless thing wouldn’t have bothered me so much, if he hadn’t have bagged up his dinner without touching it, and proceeded to ask me if I’d finished mine and then put my leftovers in another bag he had. Who does that?”

  “Yeah that’s pretty strange.”

  “Also, all he talked about was saving up money so he could travel to India to help some impoverished village.”

  “Well, that’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “Not when he expected me to pay half my meal and leave the entire tip.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “So now you can see why this was an ice cream emergency.”

  “Indeed.”

  She sighed. “Why can’t I find a nice bad boy?”

  I grinned. “Keep looking, I’m sure your prince imperfect will show up.”

  “You better be right.”