Primal Promise

Sixteen

The door shut behind her, everyone seemed to be gathered in the living room. The television was on, tuned to some opera on PBS it seemed. Mrs. Aldwin and her husband were watching it from separate ends of the sofa, each with a book in hand. Jaris was in the kitchen, wrapping up the leftovers in individual servings and then vacuum-sealing them into pouches.

At the table, Maggie, Max, and the Van Houten twins were playing Uno still. Max was deeply involved in the game, his face one of deep concentration. Maggie was giving the boys soft dewy looks when they weren't looking.

She felt sympathy for the girl. It was a terrible thing, to have a crush on someone who didn't, who couldn't reciprocate. Thankfully such things were usually swift in passing and the cuts you thought would end you proved to be superficial at best.

Jaris headed for the downstairs bathroom. Still on the verge of tears, and feeling completely out of sorts, CJ headed for the other one, climbing the stairs quickly and shutting herself in before she could betray her emotions by blubbering in public.

Inside, she ran cold water into the sink and plunged her hands into it, letting them get achy with the cold before she pulled them out and set them on her burning face. She was surprised there was no hiss or cloud of steam. Her stomach hurt, her body felt as though her joints were made of iron. He'd opened his soul and she'd done what she did the best. Turn sugar to shit.

CJ dropped the lid and sat down on the toilet, her head in her hands. Why hadn't she been able to just say 'yes, Jameson. I like you too. Let's go kiss more and talk and have wild sex and be happy for however long as it lasts.' No. Not her. She had to be so goddamn pragmatic. Prophesying doom before they'd even begun. Telling him he was foolish to believe there was such a thing as true love. Not only that, but that he was a double idiot to think she was his 'the one'.

She stood again, facing herself in the mirror. She was angry with that woman and they were about to have it out, though very quietly. "You stupid cow." She hissed at her reflection. "He is wonderful. He's handsome and kind and he, for some unknown reason, likes you. Why can't you just do something right for a change?!" She pressed her palms to the vanity on either side of the sink, hanging her head, her eyes closed. "There won't be a second chance." She shook her head. "You screwed everything up again."

Outside, she could hear the laughter from the kids playing and again, she felt that pang of longing for something she'd never had. A family based around affection, not resentment. "And if a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass when it hopped." She intoned softly as she turned from the mirror. The past was immutable. Wishing wouldn't change a damn thing.

Wiping off the sink, the hand towel hung back on the rack, she squared her shoulders and opened the door. If only she had chosen to drive herself out from Portland. She felt a little trapped here without a car of her own. 

She had not brought her phone to the party, but the minute she got back to her room, she was calling a cab or an Uber or a tow truck, whatever vehicle she could get to come out here and give her a lift to somewhere she could catch a Greyhound or a train or something.

She pulled a shaky breath deep into her lungs, held it, then let it out with a slow blowing through her teeth. She had to keep her cool long enough to get out of the house without breaking down. It was a big house, but she was pretty sure she could do it. If anyone asked, she'd feign a headache. 

She glanced to the mirror. She'd buy it. She looked like hell. Stepping out into the hall, she left the door ajar for the next person. She'd only taken a single step when a voice interrupted her attempted flight.

"Hey." Charles was leaning against the frame of an open door at the hallway's end. He held a half empty highball glass in the tips of his fingers. He pinned her under his gaze, intent as Jameson's had been, but no warmth lurked in his paler blues. "There's something I need to tell you." He was handsome, brutally so, but there was an undercurrent of darkness in him since he'd arrived. "I'll pour you one if you want." He stepped back into the room and she followed, not wanting him to bother when she didn't drink. It would be wasteful.