A Flawed Heart (9 page)

Kat reveals a little more about her past to me as she cooks.
She’s from a small town in Pennsylvania and has always had an inclination
toward the arts. She moved here three years ago, a transplant, like me. I try
hard to pay attention, but my thoughts are elsewhere. I’m in suspense over what
Jason and Lydia’s conversation must have been like. I check my phone again.
No missed calls. No texts.

After some spaghetti and meatballs, I lie on the couch and
stare at the ceiling, cellphone in hand. It vibrates and I nearly jump out of
my skin.
It’s Lydia.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up? I’ll be home in ten. I’m bringing my friend
Amber.”

“That’s cool. I invited this guy Tony from downstairs. You
know him?”

“Yeah, he’s a sweetie. See you soon.”

“Okay, later.”

Nothing about Jason.
I purge my
nervous energy by checking my email, and read three from my mom. Then Lydia and
Amber burst through the door. Lydia floats into the room with a huge grin on
her tiny face. She hugs me and I force a smile, but I feel as if the floor has
dropped out from under me.
She couldn’t
be this happy if Jason told her he wants me. He must have just given up.
I
hug her back, but it’s bittersweet.

Lydia introduces everyone. Amber seems like a bit of a
tomboy, and she explains that she’s into photography.

“Hey, why aren’t you dressed yet?” Lydia asks. She flings
open my closet and digs in. She throws out jeans that I never wear, brown
riding boots, a leather belt, and a short-sleeved top that’s too low cut. She
thrusts the clothes at me. “Here, this will look great on you.” She flashes me
a smile and grabs a silk scarf out of my dresser and then walks out and drapes
it over the living room lampshade. The room is instantly cast in a low,
romantic light. She puts on music and sits with Kat on the couch.

“Claire, get dressed!” she shouts, and waves her hand at me.

I shut my door to dress in privacy. The jeans and top fit me
like a second skin, even though there’s more of my cleavage on display than I’d
like, but whatever makes Lydia happy. When I get back to the living room, I
find that Tony and Kai have arrived. Kai’s much shorter than Tony—he’s Asian
with dark hair and eyes. Tony introduces me, and Kai slaps Tony on the back as
if he’s congratulating him.

The boys brought beer with them. Lydia pops them open with a
lighter and passes them out. She changes the music and begins to dance around
the room with her beer. Her energy is infectious and we all join her. Even
though it feels silly, it’s fun at the same time. Tony is next to me, and I can’t
help but notice he’s a good dancer.

We finish the beer, and Lydia tells me to bring a blanket as
we leave for the party. I want to talk to her about what went on between her
and Jason, but there are too many people around. I check my phone again, but there
are no messages and I’m disappointed.

Lydia leads us down past the residential area to the
warehouses on Kent. There aren’t many streetlights and I trip on the cracked
sidewalk.

Tony catches me. “Careful.”

“Yeah, I’m a klutz in broad daylight, so this is a little
dangerous for me.”

He responds with a little chuckle. After winding through the
streets for a few minutes we emerge at an old, graffiti-ridden building. It’s
obvious that it’s not maintained. Lydia leads us through a back alley to a fire
escape ladder

“Hope you’re not afraid of heights,” she says. “We climb
from here.”

We wind up ladders and platforms until I question whether or
not this is a good idea, but once we emerge above the rooftops and I see the
view, I don’t feel nervous anymore. On the rooftop there are several cliques,
creating little islands throughout the space. Lydia walks over to a group and
returns with several red cups. She passes them out, and we make our way over to
the line for the keg. Tony and I stand side-by-side behind Lydia, Kat, Amber,
and Kai.

“Is Jason coming tonight?” Amber asks Lydia.

“I
dunno
.” Her curt tone ends that
conversation.

I distract myself from my disappointment by talking to Tony.
“So, is Kai your roommate?”

“Yeah.”

“He seems like a cool guy.”

“Yeah, he is.”

We take our turns pumping the keg and filling our cups from
the tap. Lydia and the girls get caught up talking to some friends, so Tony,
Kai, and I make our way back to my blanket. I sit down cross-legged, put my
beer down on the roof, and light a cigarette.

“You look really pretty in that shirt, Claire.”

I know that Tony has said something, but the words are
muffled. In the distance I see the unmistakably huge figure of Ben climbing
onto the roof with Alana—and behind them is Jason. He’s wearing a white shirt
and in the moonlight he looks like a fallen angel. The sight of him approaching
is breathtaking, and I can see and think of nothing else.

“Claire? Claire?” Tony says.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Nothing.
Do you want another beer?”
he asks.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Tony gets up, takes my cup out of my hand, and walks over to
crowd around the keg again. I see Jason stop near the edge of the roof,
separating himself from Ben and Alana. He has his guitar case slung over his
shoulder. It takes all of my restraint not to rush over to him. He scans the
crowd, and his eyes meet mine with a look of recognition and relief. When our
gazes lock, he walks toward me, his pace determined.

I try to get to my feet in spite of my suddenly week knees,
when I see Lydia burst through a group of people. She grabs both of Jason’s
shoulders and turns him to face her. She stands on her tiptoes to look at his
eyes, and then brushes his cheek with her thumb. He pushes her hand away. Lydia
folds her arms and gives him a piece of her mind, but I can’t hear what they’re
saying. She wags her finger at him, and I hear her raise her voice. Jason looks
at his feet and Lydia reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing
him on the cheek and stroking his hair. She steps back, and he nods at whatever
she’s saying. She hands him a beer and returns to Ben and Alana.

Jason sits down on the roof with his knees on his elbows,
and lights a cigarette with a flick of his Zippo. Watching this man smoke is
one of the sexiest things I have
ever
seen. I want to make whatever pain
he’s feeling disappear. I begin to walk over to him and he looks up at me as I
approach. I smile and try to hide my excitement over seeing him. He raises his
hand to wave and just as I am raising my hand to wave back, Tony runs up to me
and thrusts my full beer at me. It spills on my exposed cleavage.

“Oh, shit. Um, thanks, Tony.”

“Oh no!
Shit, I’m sorry. I spilled it.”
He makes a move to wipe the beer from my chest and I grab his wrist with my
free hand, stopping him before his fingers can touch my skin.

“I’ve got that. It’s fine, really.” I wipe the beer from my
skin and when I look up I see Jason looming over Tony, his fists balled and his
jaw clenched.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason asks.

Tony steps back, putting his free hand up in a gesture of
innocence. “I spilled her beer. Relax, man.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, and
don’t
fucking touch her.” He’s practically growling at Tony.

I touch Jason’s elbow to calm him down. “Jeez, Jason, it’s
okay.”

His gaze doesn’t leave Tony’s face. “It’s most definitely
not
okay, Claire.”

Tony stares at me and I try to apologize to him with my
eyes. He shakes his head and turns to go. “I’ll see you around.”

Only after Tony has disappeared into the crowd does Jason
look at me. He has a bruise under his eye and it’s swollen. His eyebrow is
crusted over with blood and his shirt is stained with it.

“What happened?” I bring my hand up to touch his eye. He
doesn’t stop me, but winces as my fingertips make contact with the bruise. I
withdraw my hand and stare at him as I await an explanation.

“It’s nothing.
Just a drunk local at
Alexa’s.
He was messing with some girls, and I had to set him straight. Don’t
worry about it. Listen, I’m sorry but I don’t like your
friend.
I don’t
want him touching you like that.” He looks down at my body. “What are you
wearing? Fuck, you look beautiful.”

He grabs the small of my back and presses me into him. I
feel the breath rush out of me. I want to kiss him, but I also want him to know
I don’t need to be protected. “Listen, Tony didn’t touch me. I stopped him. I
can take care of myself. You didn’t need to get so angry.”

He steps back. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turns and walks
away.

I open and shut my mouth several times, wanting to stop him,
wanting to call him back, but knowing it’s not a good idea. I sit down on the
blanket and hug my knees. Kat and Kai come over to sit with me. Jason is
standing on the other side of the roof, alone.

Some girls approach him, and I hear one of them shriek. “Jason,
you
have
to play something. You have
your guitar and everything! Everyone wants to hear you play.”

He acquiesces, nodding at her and looking to me again, but
the eye contact is brief. He sits down on a milk crate just a few feet away
from me, unzips his case, takes his guitar out and drapes the strap over his
shoulder. I’m fixated on the way his body moves, his muscles tense and release.

The shrieking girl announces that Jason’s going to play, and
the dark silhouettes begin to merge forward together—some sit, some remain
standing. My heart rate speeds up as he tunes his guitar. He fondles the neck
and strums it, as he checks to make sure it’s in key. He looks to me again, and
this time his gaze holds mine for what feels like forever. I feel my chest rise
and fall in anticipation of hearing him sing. He licks his lips, clears his
throat and addresses the forming crowd.

“This is a song for an angel.” His fingers begin to work,
pressing chords and plucking strings. I recognize the melody as Jason begins to
sing.

His voice is like crushed velvet. I’m entranced
.
I
hear desperation in his voice, and it pinches at my heart. Every time I hear
him sing it draws me in further.
I know I can’t keep my promise to
Lydia.
The urge to be near him overwhelms me. I walk over to where
he sits. He arrives at the chorus of the song and before I know what I’m doing,
I open my mouth, and sing with him.

His eyes open, confused until they lock with mine. Then
gratitude fills his expression, and a dazzling smile spreads across his face as
we sing. Our voices form a perfect harmony, and a look of pleasant surprise
creeps onto Jason’s face. He shakes his head, I suppose in awe of the fact that
I can sing. My gaze has not yet left his as our voices blend, rough and sweet.
I see the familiar, tortured look return to his face, and I’m so happy he’s
letting me share this with him.
He finishes the song, but his
body language doesn’t match the soft sounds that come out of his instrument. As
he strums the last note, he stands and steps toward me. As he gets closer I see
overwhelming passion in his eyes.

In one motion he grabs my hand and pulls me to him. He cradles
my head in his hands as he kisses me. His tongue is warm and he commands my
lips with his. I melt against him and my body expresses everything I can’t say
out loud to him.
I’m aware that
every
eye on the roof is focused on us,
but I don’t care. In this moment, he’s mine.
I hear faint applause coming from
the crowd, but my fuzzy brain barely registers it. I’m floating above
everything, distant from everyone except Jason.
He breaks the kiss and
nuzzles his nose into my hair.

I’m suddenly overcome with embarrassment over our very
public display.
I look to my left and see Ben wink at me, and right next to
him is Lydia. She shakes her head and wipes at her eye, but she’s smiling.
I
look at Jason’s amazing face. He smiles and takes my hand.

“Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”

We climb down from the roof and Jason’s hand never leaves
mine as he guides me toward whatever it is he wants me to see.

“Did you talk to Lydia?”

“Yes. I went to her studio. She told me she thought I was
using you. I told her that’s not what this is. She’s cool with it now.
With us.”

“I like it when you say that.”

He smiles. “So, you can sing.” He speaks to me over his
shoulder as we walk through the streets. I’m absorbed in the way my hand feels
in his. It’s both exciting and frightening.

“Yes, but I never do.”

He stops and turns to me. He lets go of my hand and brushes
my cheeks with his thumb. The corner of his mouth turns up into a grin, and the
tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“You know, that’s really a shame Claire—robbing the world of
that gift. It’s very selfish of you.” He tilts his head and brushes his lips
over mine.

I’m startled by the sound of heels on concrete as someone
approaches and speaks. “Well, fuck me.
A new girl of the
week.”

Jason doesn’t turn around, or look away from me. “Skye,” he
says. His irritation breaks through his attempt at greeting her. He kisses the
tip of my nose before turning to face her, slips his hand into mine, and
positions his body like a shield, offering me protection from whatever she has
planned. Her face is shadowed, and a streetlight eerily illuminates her mane of
hair.

“Is he fucking you, you little bitch? Don’t get used to it.
His dick gets bored easily.”

She’s obviously drunk, but her words assault me, touching on
thoughts I’ve been trying to avoid. I clear my throat to respond to her, but I
don’t get the chance.