“Ari, are you listening to me?” I vaguely heard someone
speaking as I whipped down the road, not caring if a police officer clocked me
or not. “Arianna!” the voice came with more force…and the use of my actual
name.
“What?” I eased off of the gas pedal of the convertible and
smiled wider.
“Just because I said we’re going to be late doesn’t mean
that we should die trying to get there!” My best friend, Dahlia, looked like
she was going to be sick, and I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Just because you
are all superhuman and junk doesn’t mean that I have your strong stomach!”
It was true, not the superhuman part, but the strong stomach
part; Dahlia could pass out from just looking at our anatomy book. The only superhuman quality I contained was
the ability to see the aura of those around me; Dahlia’s was a beautiful shade
of green.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a princess you’d actually
grow a pair of boobs and stop whining!” I teased, not really meaning that
Dahlia didn’t have boobs; God had blessed her, but boys often needed to grow a
pair of balls when being wusses, so it was only fitting that girls be told to
grow a pair of boobs when doing the same.
My logic was not always rational, but it was mine and it worked for me.
“You’re horrid,” Dahlia began with a sinister smile on her
face, “why am I friends with you again?”
I chuckled to myself, “Well, it’s because when we were three
you saw how totally awesome I am and wanted to be awesome by association.”
“Really?” she smirked.
“Nah,” I began, returning her smirk, “It’s because no one
else in their right mind would put up with your ass all these years!”
We both began laughing as we turned into the country club
parking lot. We stopped at the valet
check and Dahlia kissed the valet quickly on the cheek. Dahlia’s boyfriend, Derrick, was a valet at
the Primrose Country Club. My aunt (whom
I lived with) referred to Dahlia’s choice in suitors as “slumming it,” but I
couldn’t agree less with her; money wasn’t everything, but being loved was.
Dahlia and I were chuckling and carrying on in our usual
manner as we walked into the club, and smack into Kent Hale. My stomach instantly began to churn and I
hate to fight back the bile that was rising in my throat as he actually smiled
at me. Kent’s aura was a murky brown, as always and apparently he was in a mood
tonight.
“What the hell are you smiling at, loser?” Dahlia asked with
a defined edge in her voice.
“Nice to see you again, Ari,” Kent oozed disgusting
sweetness with his words.
“Go to hell,” Dahlia said as she began pulling me away and
toward the bar; gotta love the bestie in her attempt to shelter me. “Are you ok?” she asked once we were out of
Kent’s earshot.
“Yeah, nothing a few hundred booze can’t cure,” I forced the
joke, but she saw through my act. Kent
had been my first and only boyfriend in my entire 21 years of living. We’d met as freshman in high school, began
dating immediately, and had been together ever since…up until a few weeks ago
when I had caught him cheating on me with one of the random girls who hit on
him when he’d rescued her from a burning building or something. Kent was a firefighter, and a complete
ass. I hated myself for not hating him
more than I did, but we’d been friends for so long that it was hard to not want
his happiness. This was something that
Dahlia pointed out as my biggest flaw; actually caring about others, regardless
of if they’d hurt me in the past, was just good manners and common
decency. The bible says forgive others,
doesn’t it?
Kent was one of those kids in high school that others
overlooked most of the time because he didn’t conventionally fit in with the
school cliques. In fact, Kent had been a
loner until we met in English one day. I
had commented on his short story “Damnation” and the political satire that
accompanied the title; our teacher was not as entertained by his play on
words. From that moment on, Kent and I
developed a close friendship that one night, became so much more than
friendship. I could remember our first kiss
like it was yesterday, the homecoming dance at school during a song that neither
of us could ever remember, while we were arguing over something stupid. How things had gone wrong all these years
later was still a mystery to me, but there was no use crying over spilled
milk. He was a colossal douche bag and I
was now single for the first time in eight years.
Dahlia led me to the bar and ordered us each a Guiness and a
shot of Jameson’s mixed with Bailey’s, otherwise known as Irish Car Bombs; my
night was looking up. We laughed and
joked about random things, anything really to keep my mind off of Kent and the
blonde, big boobed bombshell he had on his arm tonight. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any
longer, the benefit began and my mind was finally focused on something relatively
productive.
“Thank you for coming,” my aunt, Tessa, began, “we are here
to help raise funds for the completion of the new foster care center here in
the town. This is a platform close to my
heart, because if not for family, my beautiful niece, Arianna, would have been
placed in a foster home.” I could feel
every pair of eyes on me and I was suddenly glad that I had dressed for the
occasion, rather than rebelling and wearing skulls and crossbones as I usually
would have. I had donned a simple,
elegant, strapless red gown…which Aunt Tessa had picked out. The truth was that
if it hadn’t been for my aunt, I would have been sent to live with strangers
after my mother died in a horrible car accident; I never knew my father, and he
never gave a damn about me.
Aunt Tessa continued, “So, without starting to cry and
making a fool of myself, let the night’s festivities begin!
The music began and couples flooded the dance floor. The benefit dinner would begin promptly at
8:30, and it was only 7:00. It was my
first official outing without Kent by my side and I couldn’t help it when my
mind began to wander back to the many other firsts I had had when Kent and I
were together. The first time he’d asked
me out, he had been so nervous that he stumbled over all of his rehearsed
words. Our first kiss, which had not
been planned at all; we’d been arguing about something relatively stupid while
dancing at homecoming and I was about to tell him to go to hell when he
interrupted me with a kiss. Our first
time (you know, our first “time”) had not happened until we’d been together
nearly 7 years and it had been a hilarious and magical moment. We’d rolled into the wall right after
beginning, and we’d both broken into fits of laughter. He’d told me how much he loved my laugh and
how beautifully my eyes lit up when I really
laughed; it’d had been the sincerity in his eyes that had led us to finishing
what we’d started. I smiled at the
memory.
“Care to dance?” an unfamiliar voice snapped me out of my
thoughts. I looked up at a man, probably
no older than 25, offering me his hand.
His hair was a deep shade of brown that seemed to change to deep red
when the fluorescent lights hit it just right and his eyes were a gorgeous sky
blue, framed by lashes any girl would kill for.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t dance,” I replied. What!?! You LOVE to dance, Ari! “I have
two left feet.”
“Maybe you just haven’t had the proper partner,” the mystery
man smiled at me and glanced at Kent. Did
he just glare at Kent? “I’m Devlin,
by the way,” he flashed his gorgeous smile again.
“Ari,” I took his hand.
“It’s a slow dance, you’ll be fine,” he pulled me toward the
dance floor. Little did Devlin know, I’d
had all forms of dance lessons growing up…along with singing lessons, art
lessons, and many, many more; my aunt wanted me to be “well-rounded”.
Devlin and I began to dance to a Taylor Swift song which
seemed to warrant a waltz; an actual waltz! I kept up with Devlin easily and he
sneaked a smile at me, “You were holding out on me.”
“Yes, I can dance” I smiled coyly. “I just have a past issue with certain dance
partners.” Without a conscious effort, my eyes drifted to Kent as he glided
across the dance floor with his bimbo and Devlin followed my glance. “So, Devlin, I haven’t really seen you around
much and I thought I knew practically everyone here in town.”
He smiled at me and my heart fluttered, “I’m a recent
transplant from Dublin.”
“As in Ireland?” my voice cracked a little, “that explains
the slight accent.” I chuckled and he squeezed my hand.
“Do you know that you’re eyes light up when you laugh?” he
asked and I turned my head away. “Sorry,
that was a bit forward. I sort of have no filter between my brain and my mouth”
he chuckled and continued, “to answer your inquiry, yes, I was born and raised
in Kentucky, until my grandfather became ill in Dublin. I travelled back to the
homestead to take care of him when I was sixteen.”
“Wow, that must’ve been frightening to leave your friends
and high school to travel across the world,” I attempted to keep our
conversation going. He was easy to talk to and devilishly handsome. I secretly hoped our dancing was making Kent
jealous as hell, and not-so-secretly hoped Devlin wouldn’t realize how anxious being
near him was making me.
“It was slightly unnerving, but I was raised to never turn
my back on family,” he smiled, “no matter how much I wish I wasn’t related to
them at times.”
“Did you ever wish that with your grandfather?” I asked,
forgetting my plan to make Kent jealous; I was actually enjoying my
conversation with Devlin.
“No, he was a wonderful man whom I was proud and honored to
know,” his smile faded slightly and I picked up on the past tense was when he spoke of his grandfather.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I was genuinely sorry, which
made my stomach do flip flops.
“Thank you,” he smiled, “It happened about three months ago,
and I just couldn’t see staying in Dublin any longer,” his eyes lit up,
“especially when everything I love is in Kentucky.”
Unknowingly blushing, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling,
even though I had just met him and knew that I was definitely not one of those
loved somethings, “well, welcome home.” I grinned.
The song ended and we continued to dance, this time to a
Florence and the Machines song that was a little bit more upbeat; we fell into
the normal “high school” slow dance movements, but once the song picked up we
began to dance another waltz. We danced in silence for a moment until he broke
the silence, “so, what’s up with you and that guy with the hooker over there?”
I chuckled at his use of the word “hooker” and silently
kicked myself for letting him see that Kent bothered me. Why am I so worried about what he thinks of me?! “Clift Notes
version, we dated…for the past eight years, and then I caught him cheating on
me and left him. He is a colossal tool bag and I wish his hair would fall out
and he’d get fat,” I grinned.
Devlin chuckled and looked at me with sweet eyes, “Sounds
like he was, as you put it, a colossal tool bag.”
I smiled and we danced the rest of the song in silence,
unknowingly resting my head on his shoulder by the end of the song.
“Thank you for the dances,” I smiled, “but I need to sit
down.” The room began to sway and Devlin took my hand and guided me back to my
table.
“Too many Irish Car Bombs?” he asked questioningly,
motioning to the glasses and empty Guiness bottles on my table.
“I only had one,” I started, “but I didn’t eat much today;
didn’t want to be all bloaty in my dress.” I smiled up at him as he began to
walk away. Way to go, Ari. Run off the
only guy you’ve met to give you butterflies since Kent. I was mid
self-loathing when a plate of strawberries, raspberries, and chocolate appeared
before me.
“I thought you could use something in your stomach,” Devlin
began with his Irish accent sounding a bit stronger than it had been.
“Thank you,” I smiled and popped a raspberry in my mouth.
“I’m going to go get a drink, then I will be right back…if
you’d like to get to know one another more?” he made the last of his statement
a question.
“I would like that very much,” I smiled back up at him.
Devlin walked away
with what looked like a very large smile on his face, which matched the very
large smile on my face perfectly.
“New friend?” a familiar voice asked me as I cringed inside.
Where’s Dahlia when I need her??
“Yes, not that it is any of your business,” I replied to
Kent with snarky disdain dripping off my tongue.
“I don’t like him,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s
too…pretty.”
“Wow, jealous much? Where’s your latest conquest?” I smiled
in spite of myself, looking for white-trash Barbie, aka Kent’s date. Kent was jealous…and I loved it!
“She’s around…wanna dance?” he offered his hand out to me
and to my complete horror, I accepted it.
Kent led me to the dance floor and we began to dance as the
speakers poured out a Secondhand Serenade song about pretending. “You look
amazing tonight, Ari,” Kent began.
“As opposed to the other days when I look awful and horrid?”
I interrupted.
“No, you’re always beautiful. I want to apologize for
everything,” Kent looked at me with sincere eyes. “What I did was, is, unforgivable,
but I wish you would forgive me. I don’t deserve you; I’ve always known it. I
just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and you to realize that you’re too
good for me. I let that stupid thought get the best of me…and it made me hurt
you and push you away.”
“Self-fulfilling prophecy, Kent; you were afraid I’d leave
you and you pushed me away. Classic douche-bagism,” I kept with my snarky
attitude.
“Look,” Kent began grasping my wrist a little firmer and
pulling me a little closer, “I’m trying here. I am trying to make this right
between us; trying to make you understand that I’m sorry and that I still love
you…but being a bitch won’t make this any easier on either of us,” he actually
glared at me with what looked like complete hate in his eyes.
The song switched to a slow Coldplay song about fixing
someone and I took a quick moment to gather my thoughts. Kent looked like he
wanted to break me in half, rather than be here with me at the moment. “You
forget, Kent,” I began, choosing my words wisely, “I know you better than most
people. I know when you’re being sincere and when you’re being an ass. Right
now, you’re being an ass, so why are you doing this? Why try to ruin me? I
don’t deserve this. I am trying to move on, as you’ve clearly done considering
white-trash Barbie over there is attempting to kill me with her glare. I don’t
want you anymore. Now, please, let go of me…you’re hurting me.” I tried to pull
away as the song began to pick up and other couples on the dance floor began to
crowd us.
“You’re not going anywhere until I say you can,” Kent began
and I pulled harder.
“Let go of me!” I shouted as his grip tightened.
“She said to let go,” Devlin appeared out of nowhere.
“Go away, I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend, idiot,” I glared at Kent. “Let go or I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Bore me to death because we both know you’ll
never do anything to me,” Kent smiled maliciously.
“She may not, but I will!” Devlin
said as he punched Kent in the nose, causing the grip on my arm to loosen and
me to fall backward. Devlin was there
before I could hit the floor and he cradled me against him as he carried me
from the dance floor and the commotion that erupted after he hit Kent.
“Wow,” I began attempting to find
the perfect words to express how thankful I was that Devlin had saved my wrist
from being snapped in two. “Thank you. I think Captain Tool Bag has been
ingesting too many steroids lately, or he’s in desperate need of a cutting off
by the bar” I smiled and winced at the same time as Devlin began examining my
wrist.
“I’d have gladly kept hitting
him, if I weren’t so worried about your wrist,” Devlin smiled. “I don’t think
it’s broken, just badly bruised. It will probably be blue before the night is
over, but other than that you should be just fine.” He smiled and my heart
began to melt a bit.
“Thank you,” I began, “for
everything. I mean, you barely know me and you’re already my knight in shining
armor.”
“Just call me Charming,” he
chuckled. “And, I may barely know you, Ari, but I want to know you more. You’re
probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met…wait, scratch that, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever
met,” his smile was worth gold. I smiled back at him as he kissed my wrist and
gently placed it in my lap, “I’ll be right back; I’m going to get you an ice
pack to help with the pain. No dancing with, what was it you called him?”
“Captain Tool Bag,” I chuckled
and Devlin turned toward the kitchen entrance.
