Permanent Lines (10 page)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I sat up, my heart racing, threatening to escape my chest. “Why?!”
I shouted even though I was by myself, sitting in my bed, alone in my room where no
one could hear me.

I sat back, resting on my hands as I peered at the ceiling. It felt so fucking real
… the dream, reliving that night with her … with me. God, it was such an amazing night.
For a moment I wanted to remember … remember the emotion that had driven our lust,
our passion for one another, but I shook my head, pushing it away from my body.
Fucking Christ!
I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t imagine reliving that night … what
it meant. It was too painful.

I chucked my pillow across the room. I thought I was done with this shit. I thought
I’d cleared her from my head. I met someone great. I met Nova. She was perfect. We
clicked. I liked her. So why the fuck was I still dreaming about Amelia? Why the fuck
did I still care? And why the fuck did my heart hurt so much right now that I could
cry? I didn’t cry. I didn’t get upset. I had never felt this shitty—until her. Even
if I tried to forget her, she just kept coming back; she was fucking haunting me in
the best worst way, but it wasn’t enough. Loving Amelia and only having her in my
dreams wasn’t enough!

“AHHH!” I fucking hated this. I hated her. I hated what she did to me … “Christ!”
I just wanted to be over her, to forget about that night, that weekend. She was just
a girl. Maybe she wasn’t at first, but she was now. Once she left and wouldn’t answer
my calls, that’s all that she became. A girl I fucked and hung out with for one fucking
weekend. That’s all she could be to me. That’s all that she was.

I stood from my bed and walked, heavy-footed, to the bathroom. I didn’t know what
to do with myself, all I knew was that I was pissed. My cellphone started buzzing
on my dresser, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want anyone
to know about the demon woman that haunted me, that stole my being in one weekend
and ripped it to shreds like I was a ragdoll. I didn’t want anyone to know what a
pussy I’d become because of Amelia. I was worn … tired of it all.

I whipped the shower curtain open and turned the water on, waiting until it was piping
hot before getting in. I needed a different kind of pain to take over. I needed something
equally traitorous to consume my body, to make me forget about the pain that Amelia
created. I stood there, my teeth clenched and my hands in fists as the water poured
over my body. It hurt. I could almost feel my skin swelling from the burn of the liquid.
In some ways it was psychotic, but I didn’t care; not right then at least. It pumped
my body with adrenaline, with power, with something I couldn’t get when the memory
of Amelia was controlling me. I felt alive; finally in control of my own self.

When the water began to cool, the hot water tank empty, I lathered my skin with soap,
the softness of the bubbles relieving some of the pain. It stung, but I welcomed it.
I was wounded, but in a good way. It helped. Focusing my energy and everything I had
on a different pain helped; it was almost therapeutic.

I never said I was normal. I knew I handled struggles, sadness, and pain in a different
way than most. I took care of myself in ways that people would think was crazy, but
it was what worked for me and my fucked up life. For the moment, I was free of Amelia;
free of any kind of ache.

The bar was closed on Sundays. It was an executive decision that I made when I first
opened up, and usually was a day that I gave to myself, but today I was sharing it
with someone else. Nova and I had plans to meet up at Central Park. The weather called
for sun, but seasonably cooler weather, so we figured we’d spend it outside in one
of the only areas in Manhattan with grass, a sense of normalcy (from what I was used
to in Jersey) and maybe somewhat of a small town feel. Somewhat. I guess that’s kind
of stretching it, but it was an open area with trees and grass, and that was saying
a lot for New York City.

Since the park was large, we decided to meet in front of FAO Schwartz, which was just
across the street. My lips immediately turned up into a smile when I saw Nova standing
there, watching a group of street performers dancing to a hip hop mix. I’d seen them
perform before; they were quite good, but all I could focus on was Nova, tall and
beautiful with her auburn hair in loose curls hanging down over her shoulders. She
wasn’t anything that I usually went for her, but for some reason I was drawn to her.
I didn’t know what it was, but it was something, and my dad always said that something
was better than nothing. Obviously something with Nova was worth a shot.

“Hey,” I said, coming up beside her and resting my hand on her lower back before gently
pecking her cheek.

Her eyes immediately brightened at my kind gesture and a familiar flush bloomed in
her cheeks. “Hi.” Her smile was big as her eyes skimmed over my face. She was checking
me out and I liked it.

I licked my lips, feeling the dryness forming. I had the urge to kiss her, but I didn’t.
It was strange. I kind of felt standoffish with her today; nothing like yesterday.
There wasn’t anything wrong. Everything seemed right. I liked her. I was attracted
to her. I wanted to kiss her, but I just couldn’t. It was almost like I felt the need
to ask, which was all sorts of fucked up crazy—not how I operated at all. Maybe I
just was respecting her space. We
had
only just met yesterday, after all. Or maybe it was because of this morning … because
of
the dream
.
No, I’m done thinking about that. I’m here to have a good time.

“So what’s on the agenda?” Her focus came back to my eyes, looking amusedly intrigued.

“Um, yeah, about that …” I looked at her, dumbfounded, knowing damn well that I had
no plan in store for today. I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t date. I didn’t do romance.
Deciding to meet up at the park was as good as it pretty much got with me.

She laughed, catching onto my lack of itinerary.

“Sorry,” I apologized, genuinely honest. “I’m not the hearts and flowers kind of guy.
I’m not used to this dating stuff.” I tried to laugh it off, but really, it was the
truth. I didn’t know I had to plan out a whole fucking day. What happened to just
shooting the shit and walking around until we found something to do? That’s what Amelia
and I did.

Nova laughed it off, but I could see a little disappointment in her stare and hear
the fakeness in her tone of laughter. That probably wasn’t the best thing to say to
a girl on the second date, but whatever, it’s who I was. There was only a second of
awkward silence before I spoke again, trying to redeem my charming qualities.

“Wanna take one of those carriage rides?” I asked, pointing to the horses lined up
along the side of the park with carriages hooked on to them.

Her real smile returned, making me inwardly sigh with relief. I couldn’t believe that
I cared if I redeemed myself, but I
did
like Nova. It was a little strange that today wasn’t going as effortlessly as yesterday—I
expected everything to roll just as easily. Maybe it was the lack of alcohol, but
whatever. I was willing to put in a little effort to get the ball rolling again between
us. I had fun with her yesterday; it couldn’t have been all alcohol driving the attraction.
And I needed this. I needed a distraction. Nova was a good diversion … an attempt
of normalcy.

“Yeah, sure. I’d never been on one!” she borderline squealed. “This will be so much
fun!

I was back in the game.
Thank fucking God
.

The carriage ride went as eventful as one could imagine, full of forced conversation
complete with some dude in a circus suit sitting in front of us, ostensibly just driving
the carriage, though I know that asshole was listening and probably laughing at our
lame attempt at a date. I tried. I really did, but the day with Nova was striking
out. I just wasn’t feeling it. She was good to look at it, but holy fuck, she was
like talking to wall today. Everything was just off—I felt off—the whole fucking day
felt off.

I felt bad. I could tell that she was feeling it too. Her hands were fidgeting and
her smile was forced. We’d both tried to bring something new up to talk about, but
then found ourselves just looking out into space two seconds after in silence. It
was dreadful. Maybe it was just me, which was understandable since my day was shittastic
from the moment I woke this morning. I should’ve figured it wouldn’t get much better.

“I’m sorry,” Nova said as we walked over to the ice cream truck sitting on the side
of the road—it was another one of my sugar-coated ideas, no pun intended.

What the hell did she have to be sorry about?

“I had a shitty night last night and it put me in a shitty mood today,” she explained.
“It’s not you, really. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to make today fun, and I’m
being a total bitch.”

My eyebrows scrunched and my face went blank. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Here
I was, being the rotten one with a million and one issues, not feeling the day because
of the fucked-up lunatic I was this morning, and
she’s
apologizing, blaming the less-than-stellar afternoon together on herself.

I rubbed my face, still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. “Hey! No, don’t
worry about it. I had a shitty morning, so I thought it was me ruining everything.”

She chuckled at my confession. I wasn’t about to throw the day on her shoulders; I
wasn’t that much of a douchebag.

“Does it have anything to do with an ex?” she questioned with an eyebrow raised. She
was biting down her lower lip, seeming almost nervous to ask.

I snorted. “I guess you can say that.”

Her grin returned. “That’s usually what makes me miserable,” she commiserated.

“I’m assuming an ex shit on your parade last night?” It probably wasn’t the best date
subject to talk about, but who the fuck cares? And she brought it up, so why the hell
not continue down the shitty road of people that suck? It was apparently something
we had in common. I’m not sure I could constitute Amelia as an ex, but I was going
with it.

She snickered, giving a less-than-enthused smirk, but one that clearly answered my
question. “Yup!”

“Do you want me to beat him? Drop kick him with my stellar ninja moves?”

That made her laugh, bringing back the pink cheeks and smile. “Stellar ninja moves?”
she questioned, amused.

“You obviously didn’t do enough digging on me, Ms. Detective.”

“Apparently not.”

“Honey, I’m kickass. I stalked the Ninja Turtles until I was like, ten.”

Her intrigued look turned amused and she chuckled slightly.

“Hey now, don’t underestimate the skills one can learn from a rat. Splinter was badass!”

“I really can’t believe you remember all of this,” she covered her mouth to suppress
her giggles, “and all their names!”

“Oh, whatever. Don’t play dumb with me—everyone frickin’ knows about the Ninja Turtles.
I don’t care if you’re a chick—you used to watch it, and you loved it. April O’Neil
was no ninja, but she was still kicked ass.” I looked at her with a knowing smile,
waiting for her to reply.

She rolled her eyes, giving in. “Okay. I
may
have watched them when I was younger …”

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Don’t get too excited, there, cowboy. I have no clue what their names were and I
really only watched because I had a brother.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. The turtles were iconic.”

“Anyway …” she said, trying to switch topics as we moved to the front of the line.

I let her order first.

“I’ll just have a small vanilla on a cone, please,” she told the guy standing inside.

“Boring,” I nonchalantly said beside her, fake coughing into my elbow.

Her eyes sprang open, shocked at my accusation. “Dipped in cherry,
please,
” she added, raising her eyebrows at me with a smirk.