Wynter's Horizon (24 page)

Despite my hopes, he didn’t kiss me again. We walked the campus at night, but he never ran his hands through my hair or pulled me to him tight, like I so wanted. I wondered when his feelings had changed and why. I wanted him like crazy. I still felt that zing just being near him. And, every now and then, when we accidentally bumped hands, I could swear he felt it, too.

I pretended to be content, filling our time with questions about his life, the places he’d been. He was usually amused by my interest, though about some things he had a damn edge on him and wouldn’t talk. It was those times when he closed off, that I wanted to reach out and take his hand or touch his face and tell him how I felt. I never did. I wouldn’t ruin what we had, even though I wanted more. I had someone who liked me, who cared about what I thought and did, and that was more than I’d ever had.

I asked Beck to go with me to the senior formal, but he refused. We spent a few nights arguing over it, but he wouldn’t budge, adamant not to intrude on what he called my “university life”. I finally let it go, even though I really wanted him to see me in my new dress—a sheer sleeveless, platinum-colored silk one. It had an overlay of delicate lace, and the dress stopped way above my knee while the overlay ended in delicate fringe that swirled around my legs when I moved.

***

Julia came in as I adjusted the straps on my heels and picked up my earrings, sliding them in each ear before looking around for my necklace.

She gaped at me until I became self-conscious. “What?”

She shrugged, leaning over the dresser and close to the mirror to apply her mascara. She didn’t need it. Her brown eyes were large, round, and incredibly expressive. “I just haven’t seen you wear those earrings in a very long time.”

I joined her and stared at my own reflection. The delicate, silver pendants hung gracefully just below my chin. Abby had given them to me one Christmas, but I hadn’t worn them since her death. I knew that’s what Julia meant.

“I found them when I was going through my jewelry, that’s all.”

“Well, they’re sick with that dress.” She pawed through my makeup bag and pulled out lipstick. She played with the applicator, not looking at me. “Abby wasn’t perfect, you know.”

“What?” I snapped before I could stop myself.

She carefully outlined her lips then colored inside the lines, still not looking my way. “I know you hate talking about this, but it’s like you sainted her the moment she died. She doesn’t deserve that—and neither do you.”

“I can’t talk about this. You don’t know—”

“I know it’s time you remember that she wasn’t perfect, Wyn. She screwed you after freshman year. She was your friend, but she chose to go live with Missy and Amanda, leaving you high and dry. You were floundering sophomore year, for roommates and for friends. Great for me and Annie, yes, but it wasn’t the kind of thing a
friend
does. And I know you missed her, missed that close friendship you thought was mutual.”

“Yes, well, ditching and—” I paused, searching for words.

“—and cheating are two different things,” Julia finished. I stared at her speechless. “I knew it was something like that eating away at you. You could have told me. I don’t care if you screw the entire soccer team. I don’t advise it, but I would still love you. You’re my friend.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears and then pulled it forward again. “You forgave her for all she did. Why can’t you forgive yourself?”

I couldn’t wrap my head around what Julia was saying. “What do you mean? What did I have to forgive her for?”

“Wynter,” she chided, “everyone knew he liked you first, liked you
more
, but she swept in and stole him. We all saw it happen except you. Personally, I don’t think he’s worth the time from anyone, but that’s not my point.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“Of course you didn’t. You just went on pretending it didn’t happen, just like you pretended she didn’t ditch you. You were a good friend, not perfect, but then neither was she. She was only human, Wynter. And so are you. Give yourself a fucking break.”

My throat closed up.

Julia grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the edges of my eyes. She smiled encouragingly. “Dude, don’t cry. Your mascara will run.” I half laughed and grabbed another tissue, blowing my nose.

Julia adjusted her straps and abruptly changed the subject. “Do you think he’ll show up?”

The tightness in my chest slowly eased. I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

She appraised my dress and grinned. “He’d be an idiot not to.”

I fought to think of an excuse for Beck. “Well, you know he’s big into me being with my friends and doing the college thing while I can.”

Brian appeared in the open doorway, and I sighed with relief, glad for the distraction.

“Hello handsome,” I complimented. He did, too, dressed in a navy suit that showed off his wide shoulders and dark hair. He beamed as he inspected Julia’s chiffon dress, his eyes lingering on its spaghetti straps and her cleavage.

“Why, thank you, Webster.” He had taken to calling me that recently. It was his dog’s name. I raised my eyebrows. “I already told you. It’s a compliment in the highest order. You look like him—all big eyes and sad and weepy—and I love him to death.”

Julia shook her head, smiling as she searched around for her shawl. “It’s true. He does love that dog. He lets him in bed with us whenever we’re there.”

“All right,” I agreed, producing her shawl off my unfolded clothes pile. “If I find out you’re making fun of me, I’ll be pissed.”

Brian laughed. “I’m too scared of your English friend to do that.”

He offered an arm to each of us. Julia draped her shawl over her shoulders as I grabbed the door behind us.

“Fifty dollars says he makes it.” Julia gave me a sideways glance.

“We’ll see,” I answered, hoping she was right.

I had gotten dressed tonight thinking only of him. I wanted Beck to see me in this dress. I wanted even more for him to take me home and take it off.

Chapter Forty-Six

Beck—Senior Formal

“Are you going?” Quinn asked, leaning over to top off my glass. I dragged on my cigarette. Not a usual smoker, every now and then I enjoyed it with a scotch. The last few weeks had been the best in years. Spending time with Wynter filled me with an ease and contentment I had only read about. For once, the ghosts I carried with me were silent.

“No,” I answered quietly, shaking the cubes in my glass and thinking of the dress she had bought from a boutique downtown. Sheer, almost-silver, it was a change from her standard black. I could only imagine what she would look like in it. She had asked me to go, repeatedly, and I wanted to—more than anything—but I had promised myself since that night she had come back that I would not forget our differences.

“For the record, I think you’re crazy not to go.” Quinn volunteered.

“You would.”

“I’m going to ignore that. I just can’t figure out why you won’t go. She asked, for one, and, two, she’s going to look hot and, three, it sounds like a great party.”

“She needs to spend time with her friends, not with me. I don’t want her to forget her real life.”

“I’m sure when some guy’s feeling up her legs through that dress, her real life will be quite clear to her. And you’re the one that could be doing it but won’t. You’d rather send her to the wolves with some dumb young university guy.”

“If that’s what she wants, then that’s okay,” I lied, stifling the urge to throw my scotch down and drive a hundred miles an hour to campus to see if Quinn was right.

“Oh, fuck that. And, just to clarify, she wants you. But for some incredibly stupid, morally backward thinking, you won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“To hell I don’t. I have eyes and ears.”

“Leave it alone, Quinn.” I could see him shaking his head, but he didn’t bring it up again. I had promised myself I would wait for her call, if she called, but—after two hours with Quinn and several scotches—my resolve wavered, and I found us on I-95 headed toward campus as fast as I could legally go without getting arrested. Quinn seemed entirely enthusiastic about our road trip, overly so, and I decided to give words to the idea that had been percolating in my head for weeks now.

“Are you after Julia?” I asked.

He turned his blazing blue eyes in my direction. “How long you been working on that one? Did you go to Intel for your information soldier?”

I ignored his rant, knowing it was aimed at distracting me. “I thought it was Annie at first, but I was wrong.”

He twisted his head a bit, grinning as he did so. “Maybe I do like Julia, but that doesn’t make you Sherlock Holmes just because you figured it out. I haven’t been hiding it. She makes me laugh. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing wrong, except for Sara.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Julia and I … we have a good time together. We have the same sense of humor, something Sara’s missing.” I couldn’t argue with him there as I visualized Sara’s beautiful but scowling face. “Anyway, Julia has a boyfriend, who will most likely be there tonight, and I have Sara. You don’t walk away from a relationship because someone else makes you laugh. You just enjoy the laughter and leave it at that. Besides, our little outings are going to be over soon now that they’re graduating. Have you thought of that? What are you going to do then?”

I hung my hand outside the window, feeling the wind whip through my fingers, and thought of what he had just said. I shook my head. I had no idea where I was headed. I listened to Quinn singing along to a Rolling Stones song for a few bars before asking the question that had really been bothering me. “Do you really think some guy is going to be feeling up her legs?”

His laughter bellowed out of his chest and got lost in the wind.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Wynter—Altercation

The music pulsed from the speakers, and the floor shook with the bass. The performing arts center had been transformed to resemble a sea motif with large cardboard cutouts of mermaids, fish, and crabs. Deep blue balloons and streamers festooned the rafters and draped off the circular stairs that wound up to the floors above where the art galleries were open to display students’ works and host food and cocktail stations. The night was wearing down, and most were breaking off into couples and leaving.

From the second level, I could see Annie, Hailey, and Sophie on the dance floor below. It was hard to imagine college was almost over, graduation only days away. I bumped into Julia looking at Annie’s artwork in a gallery near the stairs. Annie had been working diligently on her oil landscapes all year, and they were really impressive.

The gallery emptied as we meandered from painting to painting, joking about what we thought may have inspired the different scenes. Jason caught us by the back door leading to the outdoor balcony. I’d kept my distance since that horrible weekend, avoiding any contact with him. I’d even changed seats in history. Jason had done the same, not even mentioning my move in class. I saw him around campus with Leslie, but I no longer cared. Sometimes, I caught him looking at me, but I never let on. Screw him. I had nothing to say.

“Hey, Wynter.” He smiled, all cocky, making me wonder how many beers he’d had. He definitely looked buzzed. Thankfully, Julia was with me.

“Hey.” I stepped back casually, trying to put some distance between us.

“Nice dress.” There was something about his tone that instantly made me wish I was in a floor-length turtleneck.

“Uh, thanks.” I turned to head to the door, but he caught my arm.

“Where are you going? I haven’t talked to you in weeks.”

“We’re going to dance,” Julia interrupted. I looked down at his fingers and back up at him. I wanted to rip my arm from his grip. That weekend had stripped
me clean. He’d shattered my self-confidence, my trust in myself, and any feelings I’d had for him. Beck had been right about hitting bottom, and it was only recently I’d felt like I was coming back up. I stared at his fingers wrapped close to my wrist, images of that last night together still in my mind. My pulse raced.

“I think—” I started, but stopped when another hand, amazingly strong, gripped Jason’s and slowly peeled his fingers away.

“I believe she would like you to remove your hand.” Beck stood beside me, his face calm, but his eyes flashed angry. Jason looked as surprised as I felt, neither of us having heard him approach. Beck held onto Jason’s hand. I wondered if he intended to crush it to dust. I knew he could. Jason pulled back, and Beck reluctantly let go.

They stared at each other a full minute, then Jason half laughed, his voice shaking. “Well, old man, I’d love to trade stories—” he cast a dismissive look my way “—but I’m done here.” Beck hadn’t stopped staring at him, hadn’t even blinked.

“Well,
I think
we have some things to talk about,” Beck answered, his voice barely above a whisper. And then in one motion, so quick that Jason couldn’t react, Beck threw him towards the balcony door. In that moment, I saw the military soldier he was and the flicker of his uncontrollable anger. I stared after them, shocked until I remembered Julia next to me. I turned, my mind whirling with how to explain this, when my heel caught on the floor, rolling my ankle.