Falling for Seven Read online

  A cell rang, and Katlyn dug through her purse to get it out. “This must be Nicky.” She turned around to take the phone call.

  “I never knew you had a brother. Or that he was deaf.” I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing at all. “Sorry, why are you two together?” She waved her finger between me and Angel.

  “We’re in the same Sociology class and we have an assignment,” Angel spoke up before I could breathe a word. “That’s what this is.”

  I sat up higher in my seat and reached forward to grab one of Kit’s bags—the Victoria Secret one. “This for me?” I raked through the crate paper and lifted out a pink gift box.

  “Don’t open that.” Kit’s cheeks flamed and she took back the box, stuffing it in the bag.

  I smiled at the flush in her cheeks. “I just hope it’s crotchless.”

  Kit smoothed her hair behind her ear and slanted a quick glance at Taj. He didn’t care about her, he was too busy with his PSP. “Are you coming over tonight?” she whispered.

  I let out a gruff laugh, not missing Angel’s dirty look. “Seriously, kit, he can’t hear you. You don’t need to whisper.”

  I felt bad enough about Taj. She didn’t need to make it any worse.

  “Stop it.” Kit looked down at Taj with a wide smile on her face when he looked up at her. He must have sensed her awkward discomfort. “Bye, Taj!” she called out loudly.

  Angel muffled her laughter with her hand when I rolled my eyes while kit wasn’t looking. I stood up before she left and hooked her in by the waist, my palm flat on her back possessively. I dipped my head for a kiss and she gave in willingly, transitioning from flustered to calm in seconds. “I’ll come by around ten. Wear whatever’s in that box.”

  When kit and Katlyn left, Angel picked up the pen and started writing in her notebook. The ink slid over the lines with ease while she fiddled with the bun on her head with her other hand. “What are you writing?” I asked, the one frowning now.

  “Next fact,” she read aloud as she wrote, “bigger player off the field than on the field.” Then she looked up at me seriously behind her glasses, her hand still twirling loose strands of hair. “How come she didn’t know about Taj?”

  I shrugged. My home life and college life were two things I liked to keep separate. “So I don’t have to see her act like that.”

  So I don’t have to feel like shit, knowing what everyone else will never know.

  “She might not have acted like that if she’d had a heads-up. It was thrown at her and she was caught off guard. You should treat her a little better, she does have feelings as well as a vagina.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Angel shook her head in disgust. “I’m kidding,” I said.

  Taj powered off his PSP. Can we go to the park now?

  I’m going to take him anyway. Come or don’t come, I signed to Angel, now we had Taj’s attention.

  I’m coming, she signed. But your invite was so lovely, you should think about putting it on a card.

  <>

  The skate park was full and Taj hit the halfpipe with more skill than the kids twice his age.

  “He’s good.” Angel held her A4 notebook pressed against her chest and watched Taj drop back down the smooth, gray slope. “Who taught him?” She lowered her gaze to me. “You?”

  I sat on the step below where she stood with her arm resting along the railing, her foot kicked up behind her on the red bar. “Nah. He mostly taught himself. Watching TV, coming here, that kind of thing. He’s a quick learner.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Ten.”

  “He looks younger. I think it’s his hair. He has your eyes, though.”

  My jaw set when her phone chirped. I knew she was checking it but I didn’t turn to look.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to do this with Sidney?” she asked me, holding her phone in her hands.

  “Is that her?”

  I turned to see a glimpse of hesitancy. “No, it’s not her. I just wanted to make sure.”

  “You don’t think we can do this?”

  Her posture picked up a bold superiority. “I can do anything. It’s more like a case of want.” She flipped me a self-satisfied tilt of her head and I smiled.

  I stood up and moved to stand in front of her, my hand on the railing at the tips of her fingernails. She was close. Close enough that I could see everything in her stance shift, the pattern of her slightly uneven breaths underneath her T-shirt. I bothered her. It didn’t matter how, just that I did. It was a start.

  “Put your money where your mouth is,” I said. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and I felt like going ahead and kissing her—shutting her up once and for all. “You need to loosen up. I could help with that if you want.”

  “You are all talk, Julian.”

  I moved in closer, inching my fingers so they lapped over hers. She mustn’t have realized because she never moved them. “You wanna find out?”

  There was something hot about the way she kept her cool around me and I wanted to know more and more what it would take for the freeze-out to end.

  “It almost makes me want to laugh, the way you have come to your own conclusion that all women were born without the ability to say no to you.”

  At least she ended that on a smile.

  I looked over my shoulder to check Taj was okay. He had moved on to a smaller skating ramp farther down, but I could still see him.

  “I don’t think that. But I know I could change your mind.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. They were lighter under direct sunlight, a bright, reflective gold. Her fingers slipped out from under mine and she held her book against her chest with two arms.

  “Arrogant much?”

  “Not arrogant. Confident.”

  “Too confident.”

  I shook my head. She was two steps higher than me and I put my hands on the lower rungs of the railing, caging in her thighs. “No such thing,” I said. “Just tell me one thing?”

  “What’s that?” I could tell she wanted to move—gather some space—but there was nowhere for her to run.

  “Why do you let him treat you like that?”

  “Ugh, not this again. The topic of Jordan is a deal-breaker, let’s get that clear.”

  “No, really,” I said, “I want to know. From what I’ve seen, you’re no pushover. Only with him, and I want to know why.”

  “First, I am not a pushover. And I know I can be a little over-lenient with Jordan, but that’s only because I know him, I know his heart. He just needs to get to know mine.”

  She believed what she was saying. I was starting to think it wasn’t that she was weak, she was under some kind of fucking spell.

  “Okay, fine. I would never treat you like that, but okay.”

  Angel laughed at the same time my eyebrows knotted together. “What?” I said.

  The sun dipped behind a blanket of clouds and Angel’s eyes shaded darker. She arched a trim eyebrow. “Would you treat me as well as Kit?”

  “Not my girlfriend,” I pointed out. Second time today I’d cleared that up. “See, my girl, when I decide I want one, she’ll be the only girl I look at. There’ll be no one else.” I curled my fists closer to the material of her jeans while I had her whole attention. I could feel her warmth and I tried my luck, brushing my palms up the sides of her thighs. I left them to rest just below the curve of her ass-cheeks. “She won’t ever have to doubt if I think she’s the sexiest woman in the room, because I’ll tell her every day. Fuck, I’ll show her every day.”

  I could have leaned in right then, while she was staring at me, her snippy sarcasm stunted.

  “She won’t ever work harder than I do to keep things sweet. She won’t feel like shit while I step aside so she can kiss other guys. She won’t want to kiss another guy again when I am finished with her.”

  Angel swallowed, loud and slow.

  I pushed my luck further. “If Jordan can’t look after you, Angel. Someone else will.”
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  13: Angel

  I DROVE BACK TO THE student villages. I needed a nap after Jordan’s mixed messages and my hour in the twilight zone with Julian. Between the rain and my perpetual thoughts, my mind couldn’t find a way to power down. Needless to say, after over an hour of trying to reach that perfect, dark spot that would send me unconsciously into the land of oblivion, I couldn’t fully grasp it and I looked and felt like shit. I had to go and see Nelly. I needed a calming presence to set me steady for the rest of the night. I had to be at my dad’s for dinner at seven and I sure as hell needed to be calm if I was going to get through that.

  Nellie was on the balcony with a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Jennifer sat with her and they were piecing together a jigsaw. Nellie smiled at me when I approached her side and kissed her on her temple. “How lovely to see you. Are you just starting work?”

  “Yep. Just starting,” I said. There was no use in arguing. I’d rather be her nurse than nobody at all. If there was one great thing about Boston, it was my grandma.

  Jennifer winked at me as she got up to leave. “Call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I took Jennifer’s seat and fixed a piece of the jigsaw in place. “You look happy.”

  “I’m always happy.”

  “That’s true,” I said, squeezing another piece of the puzzle in place. “It’s why I love you so much.”

  “I wish you and Michael could work things out. A baby should grow up with two parents.” Nellie pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and squinted into the dying sun. I left the puzzle, focusing on her grasp of reality and her family. These moments were rare, and getting rarer. “Now by all means, my son isn’t perfect. Most days he is a downright selfish moron. That boy can say what he wants, but your body—your heart—never lies.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “What’s that, dear?”

  “What did you mean by that? What you just said?”

  “What was I saying?”

  I exhaled with twinges of disappointment. “Never mind.”

  <>

  I pulled up on Beacon Hill and braced myself for an afternoon with my dad. He’d asked me to come for dinner and it was one luxury I figured I could afford him. I hardly had to see him anymore and a few hours wasn’t exactly the end of the world. I looked up at the brownstone that was my home for little more than a year, and pushed open the carved black door. It was unlocked, so he was expecting me. I assumed he’d think I wouldn’t show.

  This house and neighborhood screamed exclusivity and wealth. But it did so with class and sophistication. I might not like who was currently inside, but this house was beautiful.

  Georgian windows looked out onto the cobbled street and an imposing marble fireplace dominated the living room, holding a blazing log fire. The French sofa and armchairs were all sensual curves, costing more money than they were worth in comfort. But they looked good, and my dad was never here anyway, so it wasn’t like he ever had to sit on them.

  He could thank pops for this house. It was practically handed down to him when grandpa Killian moved farther into the country, hoping to move into retirement but never actually doing it. I felt robbed that my dad hadn’t turned out more like his own dad.

  He was in the kitchen-dining area getting wine from the fridge—and he wasn’t alone. A tall blonde wearing her hair in a slick chignon and a black pencil skirt and cream blouse stood next to him, her hand flat against the counter. He passed her the bottle and had a go at a smile when he saw me. I looked at both of them and I saw my dad’s dream right in front of my very eyes: elegant, young, beautiful woman with smooth, porcelain skin, dressed smart yet sexy and both drinking expensive wine from a kitchen that belonged in Home & Garden.

  I had never quite fit into this picture. I was the error that needed to be photo shopped.

  My dad’s arm wrapped around the beautiful woman’s waist. “Angel, I would like you to meet Elena.”

  Elena swept her hands over her tight skirt and her heels clipped over the hardwood as she came to greet me. She held out her hand, looking nervous and unsure under a brilliantly-white smile. “Hi,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m Angel.”

  She could relax. I wasn’t about to make anything difficult for her, I could care less what my dad did or who he saw.

  “I know,” she gushed. “I’ve heard so much about you. This one never shuts up once he gets started on his daughter.”

  My dad pulled on the neck of his work polo, popping the second button, then gave a subtle shake of his head. “Now, now, Elena, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “No, neither would I,” I said, taking my hand from her grasp.

  “Michael, you forgot to mention she was so stunning.” She shot Michael an accusatory glance and he waved his hand at her to say it wasn’t important.

  “Like father like daughter,” he said with a bashful smile.

  I side-eyed my dad. Er, hardly, I thought.

  “No.” Elena shook her head and clip-clopped her way over to his side, to help him lay the dining table. “She looks nothing like you. Her features are too delicate, too…” she flapped her fingers in front of her. “What’s the word?”

  “Should we eat?” my dad suggested before any mention of Mexicans could ruin his dinner. Elena lost all train of thought and agreed readily.

  Easily placated, I see. No the wonder my dad likes you.

  I mostly picked at my chicken and vegetables, moving the food around my china plate.

  “Michael tells me you are a figure skater and on your way to the Olympics,” said Elena, smiling at my dad’s proud, nodding head.

  “Yeah, that’s the dream,” I deadpanned. Or his dream. You couldn’t just do a sport in my dad’s eyes. You went the whole way or you might as well stay in bed.

  “I always thought figure skating was fabulous. I never tried it of course, but I wish I had given it a shot. I only wish I was that graceful.”

  “Honey, you are like a swan. You are the epitome of grace.”

  I giggled quietly at my dad’s observations. His compliments were so boring I could fall asleep. Nellie would be choking on her cough candy if she were here now. He was far too polite for his own good—when he wasn’t being a racist bigot of course.

  “Angel,” he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a cotton napkin. “Do you have your dress for the dinner this Saturday night? I don’t want any excuses for you not being there. If all else fails, there is always the maternity section.”

  Elena’s eyes bulged and my dad covered his hand with hers, seeing her reaction. “Inside joke,” he explained, wearing a haughty smile.

  “No, it isn’t. He’s just being an asshole.”

  “Language!” my dad scolded. “Now, do you have your dress or not?”

  “No, but I have all week. I’ll buy one.”

  “I’ll have a car pick you up at seven-thirty. Make sure you are ready. We will be arriving together and I can’t be late to your grandfather’s event.”

  “Are you coming?” I asked Elena.

  “Yes, I’ll be there.” She popped a miniscule piece of chicken into her mouth.

  “As my dad’s date? That’s what you are, right? His girlfriend?”

  My dad was glaring at my rudeness but he didn’t bother me. He was the rude one for not introducing her properly or accurately. He probably thought I’d care, be jealous or something just as dumb. “Yes, we are dating,” he confirmed. “She will be there.”

  “Will Pamela be there?”

  Total wrong thing to ask. My dad’s fork stopped before it could reach his mouth and his cheek twitched. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on the invite list. Although, I certainly haven’t spoken to her.”

  So Marilyn might be there. I’d have to speak to her when I got back. And if she wasn’t coming, I’d have to change her mind.

  Halfway through my dinner, I said, “Are you going to tell me what’s happening with the apartment?”

 
; It hadn’t taken as long as I thought it would to become annoyed with him. If he wasn’t going to bring it up then he really left me no choice. He could act like my mom was dead as much as he wanted, but I would do no such thing. She was a ghost in this house, and my dad refused to be haunted. He didn’t believe in ghosts.

  He stood to clear away our plates. Elena sat focused on her nails, trying to act like the frosty atmosphere didn’t exist. “Do you want me to?”

  “No, I don’t want you to. You should want to. You should want to tell me what is going on and if my mom will no longer have a home.”

  “She’ll be fine. She’s tough as old boots. Did you ever think that she shouldn’t have wandered off in the first place? Besides, she was raised on the streets.” He dropped our plates into the sink, smiled and said, “Pie, anyone?”

  <>

  My Sociology class the next day was… strange—and hot. Marcus wrote, ‘Taboo and normality in relationships’ on the whiteboard behind him. He sat on his desk, his slacks straining against his muscled thighs. I’d even go as far as to say they were too tight. He was grinning as his gaze swept across the auditorium and then landed on me.

  “Did you just lick your lips?” I could feel Julian looking at me, but I was invested in this lesson.

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “Angel.” I clamped my mouth together at the sound of Marcus calling my name. “What is a taboo?”

  “Forbidden actions that belong to social control,” I said automatically.

  “I can think of a few forbidden actions I would like to do to you,” Julian whispered from under the peak of his cap.

  Marcus raised his arm for more, pleased with my answer. “Give me a for instance.”

  Why was he picking me? He had me on the spot, and I felt like throwing the student-teacher relationship out there, but Julian would love that. “Incest,” I said, instead.

  “Very good. One of the most famous examples of all.”

  “Julian,” said Marcus. I turned to smile at him beside me. He lifted the bill of his cap. “Give me an example of normal relationship ideal.”