daynight (43 page)

“Are those french fries?” I say as place my hands on his waist and peek around him. He turns and feeds me one, doing his best to keep his eyes off my rather exposed legs, but largely failing. I grab another fry. Yummy. Thin and salty, just as I like them.

“For you, my dear, I have tried my best to recreate McDonald’s french fries, a McRib sandwich, and a chocolate shake. I planned to drop it off to you. But it will taste even better fresh,” he says.

“Are you kidding me?” I say. “Did I do something to tick you off again? The first time you took me to McDonald’s it was for punishment.” I try to look upset, but my grumbling tummy gives me away

“Oh, so you don’t want it? It’s fine,” he says, winking at me and then covering up the plates with his arms. “More for me.”
 

“I
do
want it. Come on… hand it over. I’m starved, cranky, and could use some major comfort food,” I say, tickling him to get him to release his grip. He smiles, hands me the plate and we both sit down at opposite sides of his dining table. I savor every bite of the greasy, calorie-laden meal and slurp down the chocolate shake while Ethan watches me.

“So, are you going to tell me what brought you here?” he says after he knows my mouth is food free.

“Can’t it just be that I missed my lockup buddy?” I say.

“Is that the truth?” he asks, biting the corner of his lip.

“Yes, I did miss you. Terribly,” I say.
 

“But is that really why you’re here?” he says.

“Yes. And no. But, I prefer not to talk about it. I just need a good distraction. Can we play a game or something?” I say. “You think of something while I do the dishes.” I jump up from the table, stack the dishes, haul them to the kitchen and start scrubbing.

“Twister?” he says, although I can’t tell if he meant for me to hear that or not. I glance back at him and catch him staring at my backside, and he blushes.

“Are my clothes dry yet? Because I think I’m being more of a distraction to
you
and you’re supposed to be distracting me,” I say. I open the oven door and check. Still wet, though making progress.

“Sorry,” he says, walking over to me and sizing me up head to toe. “I promise to stop noticing how hot you look in my shirt and focus on entertaining you in a wholesome manner.” I shoot him a disapproving glare for his compliment, but also can’t completely conceal a smile, as I have zero immunity to Ethan’s flirty side. He then lifts my chin up, stares into my eyes, and says, “Do you know that you are the only girl I know who can manage to be even more beautiful without makeup than with it?”

I blush and say, “You’re a great liar.”

“I’d never lie to you,” he says. After taking a deep breath he adds, “So, how can I best distract you? Do you want some dessert? Charades? Pillow fight? Tell ghost stories? Play tag? Marco polo? Hide and seek? Cuddle? What strikes your fancy?” A smile spreads from the right side of his mouth to left at the inclusion of ‘cuddling’ in his list.

“Let’s see,” I say. “Everything except the cuddling, because that could only lead to trouble.” I want to blot out my disappointment with Blake and what will be the consequences of his actions. So I need distractions. But given how bad things are with Blake and how attracted I am to Ethan, it would take very little cuddle time to let things get out of control. And I’d like to maintain what little control I have over my life.

“I was just messing with you,” Ethan says, looking away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You apologize altogether too often,” I say, getting on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re it.” I dash away and get to the other end of the house before I’m tackled. Ethan and I play hard for a few hours until well past dawn, and then take two spoons to some ice cream, polishing it off. Stuffed and exhausted, I sprawl out on the floor amongst piles of pillow fluff giggling. We had a couple purposeful casualties during our pillow fight.

 
“Distracting enough for you?” he says as he inches as close as possible without touching me. I find it very hard to be this close to him. He oozes Cleave appeal from every pore. Gorgeous, sweet, sensitive, fun, attentive. But not my boyfriend. Ethan and I have terrible timing. First time we met I was stupidly with Tristan. And now, despite all the fighting, I’m still with Blake; have told Blake that I love him. I have to keep reminding myself, though, that Ethan’s not mine to desire.
 

“Do you still love her? The girl you told me about way back when?” I ask. He rolls onto his back, inhales, and then exhales slowly.

“Madly,” he says, glancing at me. “I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much, but she is the smartest, most beautiful, most kind, most loyal, most caring, most fun, most incredible girl in the universe. When I’m with her I just want time to stop forever and when I’m not I can’t even think straight. My heart pounds, I’m antsy, and I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s in my every thought, every moment, so much so that I have trouble getting my work done. I constantly wonder what she’s thinking and if she feels a fraction for me the way I feel about her. I’d like to grow old together and be surrounded by our kids and grandkids and great grandkids.”
 

He pauses and I feel sick. My stomach’s in my throat and my own heart’s pounding a billion times a second. I’m so jealous I can barely function. Both because he feels that way for someone else and that no one feels that way about me. Sure, Blake loves me, but it’s not the kind of undying love that Ethan has for this girl. And doesn’t every girl deserve that kind of love?

“So, why haven’t you Cleaved her or married her or whatever?” I ask, my voice strained. Why do you keep tormenting me, flirting with me, and making me have second thoughts about being with Blake? That’s what I want to ask, but can’t. No wonder he didn’t even think to come see me after I got to Thera. The other girl is the only thing on his mind all night long. He looks at me like I’m a bit crazy and shakes his head.

“Well, for several reasons. My parents, for one, aren’t fully on board. And more important, I’m not sure she is either,” he says. Great, so it’s my fault they’re not together. His dad has Ethan on hold as a potential Cleave for me and Father of Thera.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, and then mumble, “Here I am taking up all your time when I’m sure I’m a terribly poor substitute.” He rolls his eyes at my pity party.

“That’s just silly talk,” he says, grinning from the right side of his mouth again.
 

“Tell me about your childhood and your family,” I say. “You know everything about me. Return me the favor. What was it like to be sick? How’d you react when you had to move to earth at fifteen and live with your uncle? Was it better or worse than here? What’s your mom like? Your uncle? I want to hear every single detail.” He ponders my request for a minute before answering.

 
“I, uh, don’t think you’d be very interested. I grew up in one boring little bubble. My story would put you dead asleep. Which reminds me that it’s very late. Do you want me to walk you home?” he says, looking away. Why won’t he ever talk about himself?

“I am interested and I’m too tired to go anywhere,” I say, closing my eyes. “Especially home. So put me to sleep telling me all about your boring life.” Blake would want to fight it out and I can’t deal with that right now. I’m all about delaying confrontation. And I’d feel too guilty being at home with Blake when I’m so busy coveting the guy I cannot have.

“But Kira…” he says. I open my eyes. He turns to face me again and I reach up and shush him with my fingers, which he starts to kiss but stops himself.
 

“I can’t. Please let me stay. Please? I’m fine to sleep right here. I know that puts you in an awkward spot, but I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this,” I say, staring into his eyes. The wheels appear to be spinning as he tries to figure out the right move.

“You can have my bed,” he says. “I’ll take the couch.”
 

“I’m really fine here,” I say, but he lifts me up in his arms and takes me back to his bedroom, kissing me on my forehead before tucking me into his bed.
 

He lingers on the edge of the bed and takes my hand in his. “I’m here. If you want to talk it through. But I won’t push.” He lets go and gets up to leave.

“Wait. Where’s my bedtime story?” I ask. “I really want to hear about your life.” I have a deep desire to know what makes him tick. And how he turned out the way he did given his parents and environment.

“You should sleep,” he says, getting up to leave the room. “Good day, Kira.” What is he hiding from me? Why is it such a big deal to tell me about his childhood?

“Thanks for being such a great…” I stop myself before I say ‘friend,’ as it doesn’t accurately describe my feelings despite it being an accurate representation of our relationship. In the back of my mind I’m fully aware that if Blake continues to screw up, I end up Cleaved to Ethan. I should be repelled by the notion of a Darcton Cleaving. I wonder to myself if I could live with it, but I realize that I would be depriving Ethan of happiness with his true love. I feel guilty and selfish for even contemplating it.

“I know. I’m your good friend,” he says with what I detect to be a slight bit of resentment. I want to ask him to hold me in his arms while I sleep without it meaning or implying anything, but I can’t and it would, so I let him leave and I hug his pillow, wafting in his scent until I fall asleep.

It takes me a few moments
to realize I’m not in my own room. The murals differ from mine. My clothes aren’t in the dresser. I’m still wearing Ethan’s shirt. I stagger out of bedroom and towards the kitchen to retrieve my clothes so I can change and go home, but I stop in my tracks when I see the scene at Ethan’s dining table. Ethan. Daddy Darcton. Mommy Darcton. All eating breakfast as if it’s a normal, everynight occurrence. Ethan’s back is to me, but Brad Darcton catches my eye. I try to smooth out my messy hair and pull Ethan’s shirt down to cover more of my body, but I’m afraid that won’t really make this look any better.

“So Ethan,” Brad says. “How are things going with Kira? You guys looked pretty cozy at the Festival. You like her as much as I think you do?” I keep my feet firmly planted and fold my arms, not wanting to ruin Brad Darcton’s nightly amusement. If I did, he’d surely take it out on me somehow.

“Keep your voice down, Dad. I told you that she’s here and sleeping. I don’t want to wake her. She seemed like she could use a good day’s rest,” Ethan says.
 

“But how do you feel about her?” Brad pushes.

“You, of all people, know how much I care about her. She’s fantastic. We’re good friends. But if you’re asking about anything more—well, she loves Blake Sundry, not me,” he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Why does he always seem to want more from me when he loves someone else?
 

“I don’t know. I think they’ve been fighting,” Brad says. OK, that’s enough. Time to silence this conversation.

“Yeah,” I say as I approach. “Relationships suck when there’s outside influences setting all the parameters.” Ethan looks terrified that I heard him talking about me with his parents. “Good evening, Ethan. Mr. And Mrs. Darcton.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were up,” Ethan says, standing up and offering me a chair. His hair’s more disheveled than normal, stubble more pronounced than last morn, eyes dark. I like the fresh out of bed look on him. If only I could pull it off as well, I think, feeling frumpy. “My parents brought by some breakfast. I was hoping they’d be gone by the time you woke up.” He glares at his father and I stay standing.

“On the contrary,” Brad says. “Your mother’s been wanting to meet Kira. And how often do parents get to catch their grown son having a sleepover with his female ‘friend’? I just love those awkward situations, don’t you?” he says, a huge smirk on his face. Yes, to Brad Darcton this must be like Christmas.

“Hi, I’m Vienna Darcton,” Ethan’s mother says, outstretching her hand towards me. I shake it. She’s stunning up close. Dark hair. Bright green eyes. Milky skin. Ethan definitely favors her over his father, but he’s more beautiful than both of them.

“Kira Donovan. It’s really nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m so sorry to barge in on your breakfast. I’m just going to change and get going.”

“No, you’ll stay for breakfast. Sit down,” Brad says. “I always enjoy our conversations.” I comply and sit in the chair Ethan pulled out for me. He squeezes my hand under the table.

“Kira, please tell me something about yourself,” Vienna Darcton says.
 

“What would you like to know? About my life back on Earth? Or my dead parents and friends who are now on Thera? Or my boyfriend, Blake, who is making bad choices and will probably face death or Exile? Or, how about my brother, Jared? He’s here on Thera, too—but in lockdown—because he’s being a little too rebellious. Actually, I’m sure you know about all those things, being one of the Ten and all,” I say. Ethan’s mouth is gaping open and his parents look aghast at my tirade. I should know better to tempt the universe again.

“Blake may face death?” she asks Brad, a look of sheer disappointment on her face. Brad doesn’t respond. I assume that’s a topic they’re not going to discuss in front of me. She then turns to me and says, “How do you feel about your situation?”

“I’m resolved to it,” I say. “Though I could be better resolved if a) Jared were released and b) Blake’s safety could be ensured.” Might as well put it out there. Brad said no pretenses.

“You’ll see Jared soon. Later tonight, I’d assume,” Brad says. “And as for Blake… you were supposed to get him under control.” I avoid looking at Ethan. I’m not sure how much he knows, but obviously Brad has no issue discussing in front of him.

“You know that’s not possible,” I say. “He fears his father as much as he fears you. And you know that I’ve tried. What I’ve offered to get him to abandon his plans.” Given how Blake reacted to the idea of a future with me, I’m not even sure that’s what I want anymore.

“Yes, I do know the lengths you’ve gone to get him on board,” he says. “And that kind of loyalty won’t go unnoticed or unrewarded. I’ll do what I can. As long as you continue to do as asked. Now, why don’t you enjoy this delicious meal my Cleave has prepared.” I pile some food on my plate and get no more than a couple bites in before Ethan’s mom interrupts.