| |
Hearing Patricia’s icy voice over the intercom made me immediately tense up. I had no desire to cross paths with her. I wondered if Noah would let me wait in his suite until they were gone. If not, I could hide in Damien’s rooms.
He let out a long sigh. “She’s a half hour early.”
“And you’re not packed,” I said.
“Why would I pack? I’m going home. I don’t need to bring anything.”
I guessed he had a point.
“So, can I just wait here—“ I began.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re coming down with me.”
“But—“
“You’re going to show my mother the necklace.”
I looked down at the box in my hand. The whole reason he had given it to me was for his mother to see. This was the perfect opportunity to show her, but I didn’t look forward to the reveal. Patricia would have something cutting to say, and while I didn’t take it personally, the verbal abuse still bothered me.
We rode the elevator down together in silence. Right before the doors opened, Noah took my hand. I instinctively tried to snatch my hand back, but I didn’t succeed. He clasped my hand firmly and stepped in closer to me so that the lengths of our arms were touching.
Patricia was waiting in the lobby with someone. I wasn’t sure but guessed he was personal security, judging from the black suit and his resting bitch face. Patricia turned toward us when she heard the elevator open.
“Ready to go—“ she cut herself off when she saw me.
“Hi, Patricia. I was just leaving.”
“Just leaving?” she asked, her eyes traveling down to our clasped hands.
“She came by to give me her gift,” he said, holding up the gift bag.
Patricia noticed the gift box in my other hand. “Isn’t that sweet,” she said dully. She indicated the gift box with a wiggle of her fingers. “What did my son give you?”
I ducked my head. “A necklace.”
“Really? May I see it?”
I had the wild urge to not let her near it. For some reason, I didn’t want to share it with her, but I couldn’t think of a sane reason not to let her see it, and he wanted his mother to know that he’d given me jewelry to make the charade seem more real.
I took the top off and tilted the box toward her. “Isn’t it beautiful?” I said.
She took the box to peer at the necklace more closely. “It’s excellent. But Tiffany’s jewelry is always top-notch.”
I’d thought the blue gift box had seemed familiar. Forget hundreds of dollars, had he spent thousands?
“Mom, come on,” he pleaded as though he was trying to keep her from letting me know how much money he’d spent on a gift for me. But the gift wasn’t for me, it had been intended for Angela. I understood now why he hadn’t thrown it away. Imagine throwing away thousands of dollars.
“That’s from Tiffany’s?” I asked.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s from Tiffany’s?” I repeated.
“You’ll wear it right? Don’t worry about where it came from.”
“I can’t wear that. What if it gets messed up or I lose it or—“
He startled me by pulling me close. “Wear it for me, please? I like the thought of you wearing it while I’m gone.”
I was embarrassed by how truly flustered he’d made me, but I had to remember we were putting on a show. His mother was watching all of this, and she didn’t like it. I shyly looked away. “I’ll wear it for you. And I promise to take really good care of it.”
He smiled. “I know you will.”
He pulled me in for a hug. But it wasn’t a polite farewell hug. His arms went around my waist. His chest met mine. He pressed his cheek against mine. “I’m going to really miss you.”
“It won’t be that long, and we can text.”
“Still,” he said and sighed against me.
I tried to let him go and step away. But he wasn’t done yet.
He leaned in and before I could avoid it, he kissed me. It wasn’t a wet smack of the lips like last night nor was it a kiss on the cheek for a selfie. His tongue pushed into my mouth and rubbed against mine. My hands flailed on either side of his body. We’d agreed on no kissing. Had Noah lost his mind? My first instinct was to push him away and scrub my mouth, but I couldn’t do that with his mother standing right there. But he was over the line, way over the line.
I turned my face away to break the kiss. I wanted to spit and brush my teeth, but I had to maintain my happy girlfriend façade. “Noah, stop it. Your mother’s watching us.”
“Oh, don’t mind me. I find all this fascinating,” she said derisively.
I hated how gentle I had to be, but I pushed Noah away. He let me go and turned to his mother with a lazy smile. “Ready to go?” he asked.
She turned on her heel and strode out of the dorm. Her security guard left with her.
With her no longer watching, I shoved him. “What the hell was that?” I hissed.
“You were great. You really should consider joining the drama club.”
“No, thank you. And if your mouth comes near me again, I will bite your lips off.”
He smirked. “Kinky.”
“Get the hell out of my sight, Noah.”
“Merry Christmas, Sarah.”
I didn’t wish him the same.
I went to nearest girl’s bathroom and washed and rinsed my mouth. I wanted to wash my brain and scrub away the memory. Remembering his tongue made me want to hurl. The taste of vomit would be better than his mouth, but I didn’t force myself to get sick. My lips were puffy and red when I left the bathroom from scrubbing them with paper towels.
As I walked down the hall, I realized that I was now the only student on grounds. That was how it should be. I went back to the apartment intent on having a normal Christmas with my family. And it seemed that was all I would get too because Damien had still not answered my text. In my room, I gave him a call. It went straight to voicemail. “Hi. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I hope you’re having a good time. I miss you.”
I cut the call there. Was he mad at me? Had Noah “leaked” more pictures of us? Had he seen the kiss from the staff holiday party? A lot of people had taken pictures of it.
I texted Angela. *Hey, can we talk?*
I didn’t get a reply.
I tried calling her and went straight to voicemail again. “Hi Ang, I hope you’re having a good time. I haven’t heard from you or Damien. Could you contact me? I’m starting to get a little worried. Noah went home by the way. Anyway call or text me, please.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I WAS TURNING INTO a puddle of goo on the couch with Cora watching television. When my phone rang, I initially wasn’t going to answer because I didn’t recognize the number, but I was so bored that I picked up.
“Hello?”
“Sarah, it’s Angela.” Hearing her voice surprised me.
“Is something wrong? Where are you calling me from?”
“Damien took my phone. I’m using the butler’s right now.”
“Why’d he take your phone?”
“So I won’t tell you what he’s doing.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh, God. What’s he doing?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
Her easy assurance reassured me, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust it. “So everything is all right?”
“Yes, everything is fine. Great even. Mrs. West has been so awesome. We’ve been to the skeet range twice.”
“What has he been up to?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“But he’s there, right? He’s not in jail or on the run from the authorities?”
“He’s here and in no trouble.”
“He’s not upset about anything?”
“What’s happened?”
I sighed unhappily. “Noah has been playing up the whole happy couple thing. But he’s gone home with his mother now.”
“How much has he been playing it up?”
“He kissed me.”
Angela gasped. “That rat bastard!”
“Yeah, and I couldn’t stop him. The worst time was when his mother was watching us.”
“Wait. There have been multiple kisses?”
I winced. Angela didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, but the worst one was in front of his mom. The one at the staff party was a joke.”
“Sarah, are you sure Noah is only pretending to like you?”
“Yeah, he’s definitely pretending, but I think he’s enjoying the charade if that makes sense.”
“He likes pretending you’re his girlfriend.”
“More like he likes pretending to have a girlfriend. It doesn’t matter that it’s me.”
“It does matter to Damien.”
I slouched into the sofa. “Yeah, I know. If Noah keeps acting like this, Hawaii is going to be a mess.”
“Don’t worry about that. You’re going to be home tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s Christmas. Are you two coming to Noble?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
I turned off my phone feeling much better.
“Your honey coming out tomorrow?” Cora asked.
“Sounds like it, but it’s a secret.”
“I can distract your parents while you make a run for it.”
I didn’t bother trying to tell Cora nothing like that was going to happen.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
CORA WAS THE FIRST one up on Christmas morning like every Christmas, and she woke all of us up this year by blaring Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Carol of the Bells”. Last year she’d played Crazy Frog’s version of “Jingle Bells”. We’d all about tackled her to shut that racket off. But we let “Carol of the Bells” play out. We gathered in the living room, and I handed out the presents. It was a happy Christmas morning. Everyone was laughing and enjoying their presents. Around ten, my cell phone rang. I checked it and saw it was Damien. He’d finally broken his silence.
“Merry Christmas!” I said as a greeting. I was a bit hyper from having eaten several candy canes.
“You too. Can you come out to the courtyard?” he asked.
I frowned slightly. “I’m still in my PJs.”
“That’s fine. Come out to the courtyard.”
I was going to ask him why he couldn’t come to the apartment building, but he’d hung up.
“Was that Damien?” Dad asked.
I got up off the floor. “He wants me to come to the courtyard.”
I changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I wasn’t the sort that could go out in public in my pajamas. I grabbed a jacket to head out. It was still unseasonably warm. It was supposed to get into the low sixties for the day. I went into the school and was met by Angela.
She surprised me in a heavy fur-trimmed coat. “Are you that sensitive to the cold?” I asked.
“Turn around,” she said.
I didn’t get a chance to ask why before she’d turned me around herself.
“Ang, this is for you,” I said, holding up the gift bag. I’d just barely remembered to grab both bags before I headed out.
“That’s sweet. This is for you.” A knit cap was shoved onto my head.
She proceeded to pull my jacket off. I tried to grab it back, but she swatted my hands away.
“This isn’t heavy enough. Trust me.”
“Ang, what are you—“ She lifted my arm and put it into the sleeve of a heavy down coat.
“These are my gifts to you,” she said, holding up the coat so I could put my other arm through.
“Thanks? But it’s supposed to be pretty warm today and—“
“These are my gifts to you,” she repeated, pulling up a hand and sticking a mitten on it. I started to take it off, but she stopped me.
“Wear them for me, please?”
Her request made me think of Noah asking me to wear his necklace, and I became uncomfortable. “Ang, they’re nice, but it’s too warm for them right now.”
“It won’t be in a minute. Now go to the courtyard and meet Damien.”
She turned me toward the door and pushed me through. I was immediately blinded by bright light. I had to cover my eyes. The brightness mystified me. I had no idea what could be causing it, and as I waited for my eyes to adjust, I realized that I wanted to zip up my coat as I felt quite cold.
I forced myself to look around, and it seemed my eyes were still messed up. I rubbed them to clear them, but everything was still brightly white. I went to the edge of the sidewalk and toed the snow. It was real. The entire courtyard had been converted into a winter wonderland.
I followed the sidewalk to the center of the courtyard. He was there waiting for me in a red Santa cap and coat. He held out his arms when he saw me. “What do you think?” he said.
I broke into a sprint and ran straight at him. He looked a little nervous as I barreled at him, but I stopped just short of knocking into him.
“You did this?” I said breathing hard.
“Yes?”
I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. I started bouncing as I looked at all of the snow. “Oh, my gosh! I can’t believe this!”
He had put his arm around me and grabbed my waist to stop my bouncing. “Do you like your Christmas gift?”
I was beyond words excited. I pressed my forehead to his and couldn’t stop giggling. His mouth stretched into a wide smile.
“I did good?” he asked.
I pulled him into the snow. “You did amazing! Let’s build a snowman!”
“Really?”
I was already rolling the first ball. “Yeah, come on! Oh, we need a carrot for the nose. I’ll call Mom and ask her to bring one. This will be such a big surprise for them!”
He sort of froze. “I thought—“ he began, but I held up my hand to stop him so I could speak into my phone. “Hey Mom, can you bring me a carrot in the courtyard? You, Dad, and Cora should all come out here. Wear your winter coats.”
Mom sounded bemused, but she said she would come out.
I turned off my phone and continued rolling the first ball for the snowman. He didn’t join in. “What were you going to say?” I asked.
“I thought it would be only you and me.”
I stopped and looked around the courtyard. “This is too special to keep to ourselves.”
“Maybe but I was hoping to spend some alone time with you.”
I dropped my eyes in embarrassment. “We will. Don’t worry.”
“Is your dad coming out?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Then we’re never going to be alone.”
He was right. Dad did have a finely tuned boy radar. If we tried to slip away, he’d find us.
“I take it back. I like this boyfriend better,” Cora announced.
We turned to watch my parents and Cora join us. Angela was trailing behind them. “They said Sarah called them,” she said apologetically to Damien.
He nodded to let Angela know it was okay. Had he been keeping people out of the courtyard? I peered at the various entries and saw security stationed at each one.
“Let everyone come in to see this,” I said.
“But it’s for you,” he replied.
“And I love it. I’d love it more if I could share it with everyone.”
He grimaced and sent a text. I saw the security guards all check their phones. They moved away from the doors.
“Here’s the carrot,” Mom said.
“We’re not done rolling the snowman yet.”
“You got anything for the mouth and eyes?” she asked.
“I thought we’d find some rocks.”
“You finish rolling him, I’ll find some.”
With Damien’s help, we finished rolling the bottom of the snowman. We did the middle next and then the head. It was fun working with Damien, though I think Dad didn’t like how close we had to work. With all three parts of the snowman done, it was time to decorate him. I stuck the carrot in for his nose and turned to Mom to see what she had for the eyes and mouth. “Here we go,” she said, coming over and handing me some pebbles. I made the face and smiled back at it.
Damien took off his Santa hat and put it on the head.
“These should make good arms,” Dad said, sticking in two branches he’d found.
“He looks good,” I said.
“He looks lonely. We should build him a friend,” Dad said.
In answer, he got a snowball to the face.
Everyone turned to Mom who held another snowball. “Playtime’s over. This is war.”
I grabbed Damien’s hand and made a run for it.
Mom and Dad started pelting each other with snowballs. I was surprised that they’d restrained themselves this long. Whenever there was even a dusting of snow, they would find a way to clobber each other.
I pulled him down to crouch behind a trashcan right as a snowball splat into it.
“Am I allowed to throw snowballs at them?” he asked.
“If someone throws a snowball at you, you’re required to return fire,” I said, shaping a snowball.
“But they’re your parents.”
“Not right now. Now they’re the enemy.”
He still seemed really unsure. “The only person you can’t throw at is Cora since she’s got the walker, which is unfair since she will hit you mercilessly when you’re down.”
Angela let out a squeal from across the sidewalk. She’d gotten a snowball to the back of the head. She swiftly made a snowball and threw it at my dad who’d been the thrower of the other snowball.
I realized that I’d left Damien’s bag of candy out in the fray. I was afraid it would get a snowball or trampled.
“Cover me,” I said.
“Wait, where are you going?”
I broke cover and ran for the bag. Mom and Dad saw me and started firing. I got hit in the shoulder and the back.
He started throwing and pinned Dad down at least, but Mom got me on the thigh as I ran back.
The trashcan was no longer good cover as Angela had moved to flank us. I grabbed Damien’s arm and ran for cover in one of the corner gardens. He let out a shout as we ran. Angela must have gotten him. The shrubs and decorative trees blocked out the others. I hastily brushed off the snow-covered bench before collapsing on it. I was out of breath, and I couldn’t regain it because I was laughing at him. Half of his hair had been plastered down by a snowball. The snowball was like a wonky beret. I reached over to brush it off, but the mittens Angela had given me made the job difficult. I pulled them off and used my fingers to comb out his hair. Damien, for his part, just stared at me. He seemed to have calmed down a lot quicker than me. He stayed still as I touched his hair. I realized we were alone.
I couldn’t look at his face when I pulled my hand away. I’d gotten my breathing under control, but my heart still pounded, but now for a different reason.
“What is that anyway?” he asked, indicating the gift bag in my lap.
“This is my Christmas gift to you.”
“Really? Let me see.”
I laid a possessive hand over it. “It’s not much.”
“It’s from you. That makes it great.”
His words made my face heat up.
“Do you like cinnamon?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then here,” I said. I reached into the bag and took out a piece of the cinnamon hard candy. I put it between my lips and leaned toward him.
He grinned and leaned over to take it from me with his mouth. His tongue swiped my lips as he did it. He chewed up the candy.
“Can I have another one?” he asked.
I could feel my face redden more. “Don’t want to ruin your lunch.”
“Just one more piece,” he said leaning closer towards me.
I leaned in too. His mouth tasted like cinnamon.
When we broke the kiss, I whispered, “Sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, playing with my hand.
“For bringing out everyone. It is nice when it’s only the two of us.”
He continued to massage my hand. It was funny how that seemed to calm him, but it totally flustered me. “Sarah?”
“Yeah?” I said, but my voice failed midway through the word.
“I love you.”
My heart started pounding again.
“I—“ My voice was still failing. I had to cough to fix it.
“Sarah, Damien, are you hungry?” Dad appeared between the trees.
I could feel my face burning up. Why couldn’t he have waited five more minutes before crashing our moment?
Dad’s face hardened as he noticed how close we were on the bench. He crossed his arms and planted his feet. He was not going to leave without us.
Damien was looking at the ground. There was a fine tension vibrating through him. He took a deep breath and stood up, looking straight ahead. I realized that he didn’t think I was going to say it back to him.
I jumped up and grabbed his coat sleeve. I put my mouth close to his ear. “I love you too,” I whispered then kissed him on the ear.
I turned to give Dad a challenging glare, silently daring him to scold me. Dad had uncrossed his arms and was staring at me in shock, appalled that I’d defied him.
I took Damien’s hand and headed out of the garden. “What are we having for lunch?” I asked placidly.
He avoided looking at my dad. He had the gift bag in his other hand.
“Lasagna. There’s plenty for everyone, but don’t you need to go home, Damien?”
Damien flinched.
“No, he doesn’t,” I said, glaring at Dad.
Dad was not cowed by me. “Damien?” he repeated.
“Not yet, but can Sarah come to Christmas dinner? You’re all invited.”
The invitation surprised both of us.
“Um...” I began not sure how to answer.
“Uh...” Dad said.
“No? That’s okay. I’m glad I got to see you.” He let go of my hand and backed away.
I turned and hit Dad in the arm. He glared at me and rubbed his bicep.
“Stay. It’s only fair if we feed you now if you feed us later.”
Damien looked up tentatively.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“Don’t care, we want to,” I said.
“Well...” Dad began. I kicked him in the calf. “Yeah, it’ll be great. But have to see what Barbara says.”
Being reminded of Mom made me wince. I would not be able to bully her into going to dinner with the Wests.
We went back to the apartment. Other staff members were discovering the winter wonderland in the courtyard, but it was no longer pristine. We’d made a pretty big mess of it, but it was still snow and it still looked rather pretty.
When we got back to the apartment, Mom checked on the lasagna while we all made the table. Damien and Angela weren’t sure of everything involved in this chore. They could figure out the big things like plates, but laying the utensils and napkins threw them a little. I knew they couldn’t know where everything was in our kitchen, but they acted like they’d never seen salt and pepper shakers before when I put them on the table. Sure, they were a kissing Santa and Mrs. Claus, but still, when Damien asked what they were and I told him, he’d still looked at me blankly. Had they never used shakers before? Did they expect someone to appear at their elbow with a hand grinder and ask them to say when? Maybe that was a bit mean to think, but still, I liked our kissing shakers. Cora had bought them decades ago for her family table and now we used them at ours. They weren’t nice enough to be called heirlooms, but I hoped I was using them when I was serving Christmas dinner when I had a family.
Soon enough we were all nestled around the table. Mom had baked rolls and had made Caesar salad to go with the lasagna. We all ate and talked. It was a warm, friendly meal. When we were done, Dad sat back and patted his stomach. “That was wonderful, Barbara.”
She preened at the compliment.
“I have four different types of pie made up: Pecan, coconut, cherry, and lemon meringue. What would you each like?”
I realized that Dad had not told Mom about Damien’s dinner invitation, the coward. I followed Mom into the kitchen. In a low voice, I said, “Mom, Damien has invited all of us to his house for Christmas dinner.”
“And why would we want to go there?” she asked.
“Because I like him and his parents invited us?”
Mom froze at my words. “You told him yes?”
“We should go.” This seemed like a given to me. I knew my parents weren’t huge fans of the Wests, but rejecting a dinner invitation seemed petty.
“No, we shouldn’t. Sarah, I can’t believe you.” I was surprised by the dismay in her voice.
“Mom, they invited us. It’s polite to accept.”
“No, you do not need to accept an invitation just to be polite. You politely decline.”
“I want to go.”
“Do you?” She asked, and the way she asked it made my heart inexplicably begin racing.
She sighed and came over to give me a comforting hug. “You haven’t thought this through. You’re not merely going to have dinner with Damien and his family, you’ll be going back to the place where you were shot, where you were drugged, where you were kidnapped, imprisoned, and threatened.”
“But it’s his home. I can’t think of it that way.”
“But you can’t pretend nothing happened either.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“Fine, you aren’t pretending, but you didn’t think about this. I mean really think about going to the West Estate.”
She had a point. Picturing the central staircase or the dining room had my heart racing. Mr. Jones was gone, but I couldn’t forget what happened.
Now that I’d thought about it, I couldn’t go. Not on my own. “But you and Dad will be with me. It won’t be so bad.”
“I don’t remember saying yes,” she replied.
“Dad said yes.” They had to come with me. I couldn’t go alone.
“I’ll have a word with your father,” she said. I winced, knowing the word wouldn’t be pleasant.
“If you and Dad are with me, it won’t be that bad. Please, we should go.” Sure, Damien and Angela would be with me, but they weren’t my parents. I needed them. I was going to crumble if they weren’t there.
“You know I don’t respond well to guilt.”
“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, because if I were trying to guilt-trip you, I would say, ‘Don’t you want to see the Wests and thank them for letting us use their mansion in Hawaii, and you know flying us out and all?’” Mom’s eyes widened and her back-stiffened. I may have spoken a little too brashly. “That is if I were guilt-tripping you,” I tacked on at the end to try to nullify her ire a tiny bit.
She turned her back to me to slice the pies. She butchered the pecan pie. She had to scoop up the mess to get it on the plate. She didn’t have to tell me that the piece was for Dad.
We carried the pie slices in. I gave Damien and Angela their pieces. They’d both chosen cherry pie. I’d picked coconut. Mom gave Cora her piece of lemon meringue and practically dropped Dad’s slice of pecan in front of him, but Dad was being particularly dense. He didn’t notice Mom’s death stare or his mangled slice. I tried to mouth the word dinner at him to clue him in, but he didn’t get it. He misunderstood what I was mouthing at him.
“Sarah, you’re right. These are winners.”
I slumped in disappointment.
“May I speak to you in the hall, David?”
“Can I bring my pie?”
“No.”
Dad finally realized the peril he was in. He got up slowly and followed Mom to the hall. Angela and Damien had picked up on the tension.
“Is there a problem? Should we go?” Angela asked.
“Everything’s fine,” I said, but it was clear that I was lying, especially when Dad gave a muffled “Ow!”
He got up. “Tell your mother I’m sorry. I didn’t really think before I invited you over.”
“No, wait. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Cora’s face had brightened. “We’re invited to the West Estate?”
“Oh no,” I breathed.
Cora was waiting for one of us to answer her, but none of us knew how to reply.
Her face darkened. “We’re invited, but Barbara isn’t letting us go?”
“No, it’s not that,” I said wanting to defend Mom, but I couldn’t really follow up with the particulars about the bad memories of the attack. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty for trying to be nice. “There are other reasons,” I said, willing myself not to glance at Damien.
Cora stood up. She grabbed her walker and marched into the hall.
She announced herself by saying, “I want to go to the West Estate!”
I covered my eyes with my hands. This was bad. Mom and Cora could get into nasty fights. Cora seemed to enjoy them, but Mom was always super upset afterward.
“What are the other reasons?” he asked.
He was sitting very straight in his chair. He hadn’t touched his slice of pie.
“Nothing, don’t—“
“What are the other reasons?” he repeated. He turned to me and I flinched. His eyes had gone flat and his voice was emotionless.
“Sarah, tell us. We won’t be upset,” Angela said gently.
I knew that wasn’t true.
“Is it my parents?” he asked.
“No, it’s not.”
Angela figured it out. “It’s because it’s the West Estate.”
I ducked my head.
“What’s wrong with my home?” he asked.
“Damien,” Angela said.
“What?” he asked perturbed.
I hadn’t considered that while the West Estate was the location for some of my worst memories, it was still his home. One of them at least. Maybe his favorite.
“I haven’t been back since everything happened. It’s going to be hard not to remember everything and get a little upset,” I said. “A little” was not the operative word, but my pride kept me from admitting to more.
“Everything that—“ Damien started but didn’t finish.
“Being kidnapped, shot at, almost killed.”
“Nothing like that will ever happen again. The new head of security is retired secret service. He’s trustworthy. We quadrupled the number of guards.”
“I’m sure your home is very safe. That’s not the issue.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
I swallowed with difficulty. Talking about it was tough. I’d declined counseling when Dr. Chang suggested it after the incident. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it. I’d had nightmares for weeks afterward, but I’d kept them to myself. “Do you know why you have panic attacks?” I asked.
His face slammed shut at the question. “No, I told you that.”
“I mean do you know what triggers them? Maybe not every time, but are there certain things that—“
“You.”
I stopped, thrown by his comment.
“You mean when you think she’s hurt like when she was stabbed?” Angela said to try and clarify.
“And when she’s mad at me and I don’t know what to do to make her happy.”
This revelation made me abandon my previous course. How was I supposed to handle this?
“That’s not fair,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Angela agreed.
He threw up his hands. “You asked! I told you.”
“But you’re lying,” Angela said.
“No, I’m not!”
“You used to have panic attacks every day. Since you met Sarah, they’ve reduced to only a couple a week. She helps keep the attacks away.”
“Exactly! So when she’s mad at me, I’m scared the attacks will come back as strong as ever and she won’t be there to help me.”
I sat there in shock. I hadn’t known how bad the attacks had been for him.
“No, you will not put that responsibility on her. She is not your nurse or your doctor. If you’re being a shithead, she’s allowed to get mad at you and storm away. You can’t make her stay by your side by guilting her about your panic attacks.”
“I’m not trying to guilt her,” he muttered.
I sighed. I wanted to delve into what Damien had said, but I needed to make my original point. “Needless to say, I’m scared I’m going to have a panic attack if I go to the West Estate.”
“Why didn’t you say that, to begin with?”
“Do you want me to hold him down while you slap him?” Angela asked.
“Tempting.”
He stood up. “I don’t have to sit here for this. You can decline the invitation. I don’t care. I know our parents don’t get along. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Is it time to go?” Cora asked from the doorway.
Mom and Dad were behind her. I was relieved to see Mom’s eyes weren’t red from tears.
“It’s only two o’clock,” I said.
“We don’t want to be late,” Cora said.
Had they agreed to go to the West Estate? This thought upset me. I felt sort of betrayed.
“Sarah?” Mom asked.
I didn’t know where to look, and I didn’t know what to say. I got up jerkily. “I need to go to my room.”
“Sarah?” he asked.
I didn’t look at him. I was shaking. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what was upsetting me. I wanted to go to the West Estate. No, I wanted to have Christmas dinner with my family and friends. It just seemed like it had to happen at the West Estate and that was causing some sort of paradox inside of me. I felt like I was going to fly up into myself with a pop. I slipped by Cora and my parents. I didn’t look at their faces. I went into my room, but I couldn’t close the door because Mom was in the way. I turned and went to my bed. I didn’t know if I should lie down. I opted to stand there and stare at my bedspread.
Mom came up beside me and put an arm around me. “Lie down, honey,” she said.
“I don’t want to go,” I muttered.
“I know.”
“But I can’t tell him.”
“He’ll understand.”
“It’s his home.”
“I know.”
I took a deep rattling breath. “Mom?”
She pulled me down to sit on the bed and rubbed my back. “Shh. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
I squeezed my hands together. “I need to tell them.”
“I can do it.”
“You all could still go.”
She laughed softly. “We could, but we won’t.”
“Cora really wants to go.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“I’ve ruined Christmas.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing, honey.”
“I don’t feel right. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like a photo negative.”
“You mean all your darks are light and lights are dark?”
I nodded miserably.
She stroked my head. “It’ll pass, and it’s normal.”
“Doesn’t feel normal,” I muttered.
Mom smiled softly at me. “I know.”
She got up from the bed. “I’ll tell the others.”
“No, I should.”
“Sarah, you don’t need to.”
“I want to. They deserve to hear it from me.”
I got up and with Mom hovering at my side, went back to the kitchen, but only Cora and Dad were there.
“Where are Angela and Damien?” I asked.
“They insisted on going, but they wanted you to know they’re sorry,” Dad said.
“But I wanted to tell them sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
I didn’t like it though. I went back to my bedroom. I grabbed my phone. I wanted to text Damien, but I was scared to, so I sent Angela a text instead. *Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. How’s Damien?*
I waited, hoping she’d reply. The longer she didn’t reply the more worried I got.
*You have nothing to be sorry about and he’s fine.*
Angela’s words comforted me, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust them. *Are you sure?*
My ringtone startled me. It was Damien calling. I was scared to answer. No, not scared. Ashamed. I picked up and put the phone tentatively to my ear. “Hello?”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I grimaced, but he deserved an honest answer. “Ashamed.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I lost it so bad. I ruined everything. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. I did. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t want to come to my house.”
I had to cover my mouth to hold back the laugh at him referring to the West Estate as a house. It was bigger than the apartment building.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
Having Damien ask me that sobered me up. “I will be.”
“I wish...” he trailed off with a sigh.
“What?”
“I know you probably preferred having your mom, but I wish it had been me helping you.”
I tried to imagine him being the one in my room while I shook, but I couldn’t really picture it. I would have hated it. I didn’t want him to see me like that. But I couldn’t tell him that. How would it reflect on him? He let me help him with his attacks all the time. Of course, he would want to return the favor, but I would have hated it. I would hate myself for crumbling in front of him. I didn’t want him to see me like that, but he didn’t hide it from me. I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“I should probably hang up,” he said.
“Do you have to?” I asked softly. I was curled up in bed with the phone pressed to my ear. I felt warm and cozy and with his voice in my ear, I wasn’t alone.
My response seemed to fluster him. “Um no, I don’t have to. I just thought—I mean if you don’t want me to hang up—Don’t your parents want you off the phone?”
“No, they’re in the living room. I’m in my room. Do your parents want you to hang up?”
“Don’t know. They aren’t talking to me.”
“What do you mean—“
Mrs. West’s voice came through the cell phone distantly, “We’re being polite. Tell Sarah Merry Christmas for us!”
“Wait, your parents are right there? They can hear what you’re saying to me?” I could feel my face burning up.
“I’m not talking that loudly,” he said, “and you’re the one who insisted I spend Christmas with them. So here I am, spending Christmas.”
“Yeah, but...” I didn’t know what to say.
“So you want me to hang up?”
I blew out a breath. He sometimes really didn’t get it. “No, just be careful what you say.”
“Yeah, fine whatever.”
“And tell your parents Merry Christmas for me.”
Now he blew out an unhappy breath. “Sarah says Merry Christmas to you both.”
“How did she do on her exams?”
Hearing Mr. West’s voice gave me goosebumps. His voice wasn’t deep or that distinctive, but knowing who he was and that he knew who I was, still seemed surreal.
“She flunked all of them.”
“No, I didn’t! Don’t tell them that! You wait until I see you again. I’m going to save some of that snow and when you least expect it, whamo!”
I heard a mixture of laughter in reply.
“Wait, am I on speaker phone?!”