Out of the Ashes (10 page)

“It was crazy over there. You wouldn’t believe how people get over a dead body.”

“It’s weird because when Mr. Baker died, I felt more alive. Like I finally appreciated my own life,” Rachel says. She finishes her pie and sips her lemonade.

I stare at her. What she described could just be a teenager coping with death, or it could be a Hunter feeling the effects of taking a Phoenix’s essence.

Rob nods. “I totally get it. Death doesn’t have to be depressing. It should remind the rest of us how good life can be. Make us feel younger even.”

Monique steps up to the table holding Rob’s pie. I know she overheard what Rob and Rachel said, and she’s thinking the same thing I am. Another Hunter, maybe two, may have worked his or her way into my group of friends.

Chapter Twelve

Logan

“This is going to be just like old times, man.” Anton clasps my hand and gives me a one-armed hug.

I’m not sure how I feel about it. Anton and I definitely had some good times together, but it was mostly hooking up with random girls. I don’t want that right now. If I thought it would make me get over Cara, I’d do it in a heartbeat, but…

“Dude, where the hell are you? You’re spacing out on me.”

“Sorry. I think my head is still clogged from the country air.”

“Then breathe deeply, my man. I got us both dates for tonight.” He smacks my shoulder. “You’re going to love the girl I picked out for you.” He says it like he ordered me a steak or bought me a new pair of running shoes.

“Speaking of air, I think I need some. I’m hitting the pavement.” I get up and walk over to my bag in the corner. I rummage through for my running shorts, t-shirt, and sneakers. Nothing clears my head like a morning run.

“Suit yourself. I’ll be resting up for tonight.”

“You do that.” I take my stuff and head to the bathroom to change. I pull my cell out of my back pocket and check it for messages. None. I’m not surprised. The only person I kept in contact with when I moved to Ashlan Falls was Anton, and now that I’m back in New York, he has no reason to text me. Part of me thought Cara would check in, at least to see if I got here all right. Then I remember she’s not my Cara anymore. You have to care in order to check in with someone, and it’s clear she doesn’t care about me like she used to. Or she doesn’t want to.

Anton is already snoring in his room when I head out on my run. He was up late last night “entertaining” some girl. Par for the course for him since his dad is some big shot cosmetic surgeon who’s never around. Mr. Botas has two places in Manhattan, one for Anton and one for himself. I guess he thought keeping Anton away from all the women he screwed would allow Anton to grow up and appreciate the opposite sex. If only he knew his son was the spitting image of him. Even my first night back, I was tossed aside for some chick I’m willing to bet Anton met that day. I thought coming back here would mean I’d have my best friend back, but Anton isn’t my best friend anymore. Cara is. Or was. I guess it’s just me now, as pathetic as that is.

I’m not even paying attention to where I’m going, and I end up at Central Park anyway. It’s like my body is on autopilot, and I fall back into my old routine. That’s good. I need to be me again, not this whipped, love-struck pussy I’ve become. I pick up the pace until my leg muscles are screaming. The pain drowns out my thoughts. All I can think about is running, pushing my body to its limit.

By the time I get back to the apartment, I’m drenched. Who says you can’t train for cross country in Manhattan? Anton’s door is shut, so I grab a Gatorade from the fridge, down it in seconds, and head for the shower. I set the water as cold as I can handle, and my body numbs instantly. If only I could stay this way, numb to everything. That’s how I was after Mom died. I didn’t care about anything. Maybe it’s better that way.

After about a half hour of trying unsuccessfully to drown my sorrows, I turn off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. When I open the bathroom door, the heat of the apartment slams into me. It’s like walking into a sauna. “Shit, man, what’s up with the heat?”

“The air conditioning is acting up. Come say hello.” Anton motions to the couch from where he’s standing in the kitchen.

Two girls are sitting on the couch. Apparently, Anton couldn’t wait until tonight to get laid. The girls both smile and wave at me, their eyes lowering to my towel.

“Hey.” I nod, not caring that they’re openly drooling over my abs.

The brunette winks at me. “Hey, yourself.”

“Easy now, ladies.” Anton steps around me, carrying three Corona Lights. “Let the man get dressed.”

The brunette looks disappointed and continues to eye me as she sips her beer. It’s too easy. No challenge at all. I’m not sure what I ever saw in girls like her. “Hurry back.” Her voice is sultry, and I’m sure that isn’t how she normally talks.

I grab my bag and head back to the bathroom to change. I opt for a tight black t-shirt and cargo shorts. I wish I had my leather jacket. None of my outfits seem complete without it, not even with Anton screwing with the A.C. to try to get these girls to remove some clothing, as if the brunette needs any encouragement. I could flat out ask her to get naked and I have no doubt she would.

Once I’m dressed, I grab a beer from the fridge. I’m going to need it to get through tonight. I sit down on the chair in the corner and turn on the TV, which gets me a look from Anton.

“Dude, you’re being rude to our guests. You could at least sit next to…” He has no idea what the brunette’s name is. No surprise there.

“Heather,” she says.

“Right.” Anton shrugs.

“I’m good.” I drink half my Corona Light, which goes down a little too easily. “Got any limes?”

“What do you think this is, a food store?” Anton scoffs and takes a long slug of beer.

“It’s so much better with lime, isn’t it?” Heather asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

I nod, not interested in making conversation with her.

“We could go get some if you want.”

Yeah, she’s looking to get some all right, but not limes.

“No thanks, I’m good,” I reply.

“Yes, you are.” Her eyes burn into me.

I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Tell me, Heather, does this usually work?”

She cocks her head. “Does
what
work?” Her voice is laced with fake innocence, and it makes me angrier.

“I think you have a great future ahead of you as a prosti—”

“Logan.” Anton is off the couch and pulling me to my feet before I can get the word out. “Excuse us, ladies.” He drags me to his room and slams the door. “What the hell is wrong with you? That girl is a solid eight, and you’re treating her like she’s yesterday’s trash.”

“She’s acting like trash.”

“Why? Because she’s into you?”

“No, because she’s practically throwing herself at me.”

“You never had a problem with it before.”

I take a step back, not wanting this to escalate into a stupid fight. Those girls aren’t worth it. “Look, I’m not into this, okay? Take them both. Knock yourself out. Just leave me out of it.”

“You’re really going to pass up a sure thing?” His tone is more questioning than angry.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Damn Cara for getting to me like this.

“You’ve changed, man.” Anton sits on the edge of his bed. “Is this girl really that special?”

He can’t remember any girl’s name. How he hooks up so much is beyond me. “Her name is Cara.”

“Right. Was she that good in the sack?”

Incredible, but I’m not telling Anton that. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Listen, I’m not leaving you on your own your first full day back. I’ll tell the girls we have to reschedule because you’re not feeling well. Then we’ll put on some panty hose and you can cry to me about the one that got away.” He stands up and punches me in the arm to let me know he’s teasing.

“Thanks, man. I really just want to avoid girls for a while.”

“Can’t say I understand that, but whatever. Give me five minutes.” He walks out, closing the door behind him.

I sigh and lie back on Anton’s bed. It takes me a minute to realize I don’t know when he last washed his sheets, and considering how many girls he hooks up with that’s beyond disgusting. I bolt to my feet. Anton’s room is barely furnished but there are mirrors everywhere, partly because he’s obsessed with his own reflection and partly because this is where he sleeps with all those girls. Sick bastard.

As much as I don’t want to be the guy who chases around a girl who doesn’t want to remember him, I don’t want to go back to being like Anton either. So where does that leave me?

“Heads up.” I turn just as Anton tosses me another Corona Light. “I think this calls for getting shit-faced.”

Not exactly the reunion I was looking for, but with how freakin’ screwed up my head is, maybe getting drunk isn’t a bad idea.

We head back to the living room, and Anton puts on some movie I’ve never heard of. We don’t really watch it. Well,
I
don’t. Anton keeps glancing at the screen every time a girl wearing practically nothing pops up, but he’s following along with our conversation, so I can’t complain.

“So why’d you come back, man?” he asks. “Not that I’m not glad to have you.”

I don’t know how he can stand living on his own like this. Not that Dad is ever around much for me, but at least we live under the same roof.

“When’s the last time you saw your dad?” I ask, ignoring his question.

Anton takes a long drag of his beer. “I don’t know, sometime last week.” He shrugs. “He stopped by to give me money for food and whatever else I want.”

“He doesn’t have a clue what you do all day around here, does he?”

Anton smirks. “Nothing he’s not doing over at his place. It’s a good arrangement, so quit knocking it.”

“I’m still kind of surprised my dad let me come stay with you.” Not that he knows Mr. Botas doesn’t live with Anton. I conveniently never told either of my parents about that.

“Why? He must know I’ll take good care of you.” He motions to my empty bottle. “Speaking of, I’ll get you another.” He walks to the kitchen and pulls two more Coronas from the fridge, pops the caps off, and returns to the living room. “Tell me more about this girl.”

“She’s incredible, man. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“Should I grab the Kleenex for you, or maybe a tampon?”

I smack the side of his head. “You asked.”

“All right, I’ll stop with the jokes. Go on, but if you could throw in a few comments about her rack or something to keep me awake, I’d appreciate it.” He smiles before chugging half his beer.

“Yeah, if I told you how hot Cara is, you’d probably head for Ashlan Falls the second I fall asleep tonight and try to hook up with her.”

“That hot, huh?”

Instead of answering, I drink my entire beer.

“Damn, Schmidt, you’re making me look like a lightweight over here.” As if. With all he drinks, Anton should be overweight, but he has the perfect runner’s build. Pair that with his dark complexion and all the girls love him.

“What can I say? I need to forget my life for a while.”

“Is freaky stuff still going on with her?” Anton takes another swig. “You said she was always so hot, and didn’t she burn your hand?”

What could I say about that now? I can’t tell him she’s a Phoenix. As pissed as I am about this whole situation, I’m not going to out Cara like that. “I think I was just bat-shit crazy from the country air.”

“And she had you totally whipped. I’ve never seen you like that.”

We both know it’s true, so I don’t see a need to respond. I go to the kitchen and grab another beer.

“So what
really
happened? You called me up all fucking hysterical because some guy had her trapped in the school and then what? Did you catch them going at it or something?”

It would be easy to let Anton think that. He’s giving me an out, but he’s my best friend, and I don’t want to lie to him. “No. The guy tried to hurt her, but she got away.”

Anton raises his hand in the air, motioning for another beer. I grab one from the fridge and toss it to him.

“So why’d she ditch you?” he asks, using the bottle opener on his key ring.

“She’s not into me anymore. End of story.”

“Was it because of her mom? You said she tried to break you guys up, right?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that was part of it. I felt like that whole damn town was against me.” I lean against the counter because the room is spinning and I’m not sure I can make my way back to the couch without falling over. How many beers have I had?

“Why does everyone protect her like that?” Anton asks. “What makes her so special?”

I force my feet to move, because standing is requiring too much effort. I make it to the couch and slump onto it, sloshing my beer onto my shorts. “Everything,” I say. “From the red streaks in her hair to the way she always smells like cinnamon to her scorching hot touch. Every fucking thing about her.”

My words slur together and my eyes roll back into my head.