Celestial Worlds

Chapter Twenty-six

“Oh hello, Victoria,” he says. I pry my eyes away from his hand on her hip. My jaw twitches. Daniel’s hand moves from my hand to my waist.

    “Hi Jason, we were just leaving,” Daniel says with a stiff smile.

    “It’s Jonathan.” He says with false kindness. Jonathan’s jaw is tense. Amber looks bored as ever with her bee-stung lips. You’d think if her lips got sucked by a vacuum cleaner just minutes ago. She examines her nails, filing them with her blouse. I’m ashamed to say that she is, in any circumstances, beautiful. With her bob and blue dip-dyes hair. She crosses her arms and looks reluctantly at us. Jonathan, on the other hand, has his hand clutching her waist. “And what a coincidence,” he adds, his false kindness façade completely falling.

    “Yes, and what a mighty one it is. Excuse me but we were just leaving,” Daniel says, effortlessly polite. “Good night.” I can feel his whole body tense with his hand on my waist. He removes it there and interlaces our fingers.

    Jonathan grabs his arm.

    “Take your hands off me,” Daniel says sharply, so sharp you’ll wonder why Jonathan isn’t sliced in two pieces.

    “We were just talking,” Jonathan says with a mocking tone.

    “What the bloody hell do you want to talk about?” Daniel says, twisting away from Jonathan’s grip. His nostrils are flaring and his jaw is clenched. When Jonathan doesn’t say anything, Daniel pipes in. “That’s what I thought. Come on, Victoria, let’s go home.” Daniel tells me tugging my hand. I’m sick of this, of Jonathan interfering with me, of Amber. And what a bitch, she’s eyeing Daniel while biting her bee-stung lips. I swallow.

    “Home?” Jonathan says amused. “You live together now?” He’s supressing a smile.

    “She prefers to live with me than to live in your hell house,” Daniel shoots back.

    “Shut it nerd boy,” Jonathan says with an evil smirk. Daniel has had enough so I pull him back just before he lunges himself toward Jonathan.

    “Come on, Daniel,” I speak for the first time. “He’s not worth it.” I turn to Jonathan and meet his eyes for the first time in weeks. “He never is.”

We walk back silently to the car, my mind doing a flash slide of the night of the party in the kitchen. His kitchen.

    He opens the passenger door silently, letting me inside before he shuts it. He’s biting the inside of his lip, clearly not expecting this night—our night—would be ruined just because they showed up.

    The parking lot outside the mall isn’t hot, there’s a cool breeze lingering now and then. It’s night, not actually knowing that we took this long. He gets inside, but he doesn’t jam the key in ignition just yet. He rolls open our windows, letting an arm out and reaching for his head to rub on it. He continues to massage his forehead and pries his eyes shut. I sit in the passenger seat, interlacing my fingers with each other and looking down at them.

    This is my entire fault. This, all of this, is my fault. He would never pick a fight if there was nothing happening between us. But, I’m an idiot. I slept with him, but not slept, slept. And, for God’s sake, I kissed him back. And I didn’t even stop him.

    The evening breeze and the rustling of leaves are the only sound we hear for at least five minutes.

    “Sorry,” he says, finally. He’s looking at me with a sad smile and he reaches for my interlaced miniature hands and wrapping them in one broad hand of his.