Dark Moon (16 page)

I awoke the next
morning to the sound of the door unlocking. “Shit!” I muttered. Michael was
spooning me, the blankets barely covering our naked bodies. I hurriedly pulled
them up around us just as Maryanne came through the door.

She stopped in her
tracks when she saw us, a shocked look on her face. Michael had woken up now,
too, and he was the first to speak.

“Hi, Maryanne,” he
said sheepishly.

She clamped her
hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Well, this is the last thing I
expected,” she said with a smirk.

“We didn’t mean to
fall asleep for so long,” I replied. “What time is it anyway?”

“It’s 8:42, to be
exact,” Maryanne answered, glancing at her phone. “I was going to go straight
to class from Damon’s apartment, but I realized I forgot one of my books.” She
giggled. “Just let me grab it and I’ll let you two get back to…whatever you
were doing.”

“We were just
sleeping,” I said defensively.

Maryanne raised
her eyebrows, eyeing the clothes strewn across the floor. “Suuure,” she said,
smiling.

When Maryanne had
left, I scrambled out of bed. “I’m going to be so late for class!” I said,
panicked. “I wouldn’t care except I missed last Thursday.” I hurriedly pulled
on clean underwear and a bra and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I walked back out
to the room, brushing furiously. Michael was looking at me, an amused
expression on his face.

After rifling
through the closet, I grabbed a black sundress and maneuvered it over my head,
careful not to get any toothpaste on it. Then I ran back to the bathroom to
spit and wash my mouth out.

“You’re cute when
you’re flustered,” Michael commented when I came back. He had gotten up from
the bed and was putting his scrubs back on.

“Now you’re going
to be late, too!” I said frantically.

He laughed. “It’s
fine. I was planning to stop by the hospital this morning, so I don’t have any
patients until a bit later. You sure you can’t skip class, spend the morning
with me?”

I hesitated. I had
skipped last week, and it wasn’t like I had any friends I could ask to give me
the notes.

“I shouldn’t ask
you to do that,” Michael said quickly, sensing my internal debate.

“But I want to.
Surely it wouldn’t hurt to just miss my first class, have a little more time
together…” My voice trailed off.

Michael’s face
broke out into a grin. “If you’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Michael walked
over to hug me. “I’m so glad to have you back,” he whispered into my hair.

“I was never
gone,” I said lightly.

Michael pulled
back and looked me deep in the eyes. “Like I said last night, I know we have
some serious stuff to figure out, but this morning, can we just put it all
aside, pretend like we don’t have a care in the world?”

“Suits me.”

“And Maryanne
won’t be back anytime soon?” he asked.

“Not for hours,” I
confirmed.

“Perfect.” With a
wicked grin, Michael pulled me back down onto my bed. We tried to make as
little noise as possible. The walls were thin and there was a lot of traffic in
the hallways around this time, students rushing to get to classes. Michael took
it slow, not like the frenzy of last night. I felt every inch of him inside me.

We stayed in bed
all morning, kissing and making love and then holding each other, breathless,
until we would do it all over again.

I missed my second
class as well, and the only reason we finally forced ourselves to rejoin the
real world was because Michael had to go to the office to see his patients.

“You can take a
shower here, if you want,” I offered.

“I’d rather feel
you on my skin all day,” he said softly. “Being with you last night and this
morning…Lana, it was just amazing.”

“I know,” I said,
“and I don’t want it to end.”

“To be continued
tonight? You can come to my place. I promise no one will barge in on us,” he
said teasingly.

“Yes, of course.”
We walked to the door, hand in hand.

“Are you embarrassed
for people to see me leave your room?” Michael asked. “I didn’t even think
about that.”

“Not at all.” I
leaned in to kiss him. “I want everyone in the whole fucking world to know that
Michael Reynolds is my boyfriend.”

Laughing, we left
my dorm and walked towards the stairs to exit the building.

Michael saw her
first, because I felt his hand tense in mine. I looked around, confused, but
then I saw her, too. Becky was talking to someone at the end of the hall. As
she caught sight of us, the person she was talking to turned around, and we
could both plainly see that someone was Abigail.

Abigail’s face
registered surprise, then anger. She swung back to face Becky, who was shaking
her head helplessly. Then Abigail stormed down the hall towards us. “How cute,
Michael. Having a sleepover in the girls’ dormitory. How old are you again?”
Before either of us could say anything, she stomped off.

Becky looked
uncomfortable, but she couldn’t very well not come over. She walked grudgingly
towards us.

“Why are you
hanging out with
her
?” Michael demanded.

“Well, hello to
you, too, Uncle Mike.” Becky paused. “I could ask you the same thing, you know,
about
her
. Neither you nor Abigail are in college anymore.”

“Becky, I’m not going
to get into this with you,” Michael said. “Not right here, at least. I was
visiting my
girlfriend
before work. Please, just do me a favor and stay
away from Abigail. She’s nothing but bad news.”

Becky shrugged.
“I’m allowed to decide whom I want to be friends with. I’m twenty now. An
adult. The same age as your
girlfriend
, in fact.”

Michael sighed in
exasperation. “I’ll talk to you later, Becky.” Without another word he turned and
pulled me down the stairs and out the door of the building.

“Sorry about
that,” he muttered when we were outside.

“Don’t be,” I said
sincerely.
Right now, Abigail is the least of our problems.
No, Damon
made Abigail seem harmless. It’s funny what a little perspective can do.

“I’ve got to go to
class,” I said apologetically. “I’m already a few minutes late.”

“Okay, babe.”
Michael leaned in to kiss me goodbye. Something like that would have bothered
me before, kissing right in the middle of public, but now it just felt right. I
kissed him back, then headed on my way to class, humming to myself.

It felt like
things were settling back into a normal groove. I went to Michael’s house that
night. He tried to bring up Damon, but I told him we had plenty of time to
figure it out (a complete lie, but I just wasn’t ready to tell Michael the dark
angel part of my life).

Everything would
have been perfect, except for the impending deadline Damon had given me. I
tried not to think about it as I got ready for my date with Michael on Friday
night.  

You’re going to
have to talk to him tomorrow,
a nagging voice inside my head warned me. But
tomorrow was tomorrow, and tonight I intended to enjoy myself.

Maryanne was the
in shower, getting ready for her night with Damon. I was relieved that she
hadn’t suggested another double date. I still felt massively guilty, knowing
that I was letting Maryanne spend time with Damon by putting off facing the
truth, but I hadn’t decided how (or what) I was going to tell her.

I had just
finished applying my makeup when there was a knock on the door. Michael usually
texted me when he was outside, since someone would have to let him into the
building to come to my room. I sighed and headed for the door. It was
undoubtedly Damon, arriving to pick up Maryanne.

“Hi,” I said
flatly, ushering him inside. “Maryanne is in the shower. Make yourself at
home.” My voice was laced with sarcasm.

Damon sat down on
Maryanne’s bed. “I see you haven’t broken things off with the doctor yet,” he
said in a low voice, scowling.

“I’m going out
with friends,” I replied defensively.

“Dressed like
that?” Damon raised his eyebrows.

I tugged
self-consciously at the hem of my mini-skirt.

“I saw you kissing
him yesterday, in the middle of the courtyard,” Damon hissed. “You do realize
your one week is up on Sunday?”

“I’m aware,” I
snapped back. I heard my phone beep, signaling that I had gotten a text. “I
have to go.”

“Hope you’re
planning to break up with the doc tonight,” Damon commented. “Running out of
time.”

Shut up.
Before
I left, I walked towards the bathroom door. “MA, Damon’s here,” I called. Not
that she would care about coming out in her towel, but I didn’t want that slime
ball surprising her.

“Thanks!” she
yelled back, followed by, “Hey, baby!”

Damon held up his
hand. “Wrapped around my little finger,” he whispered.

Shaking, I turned
to leave. When I got to the door, I stopped. “If you hurt her, I’ll fucking
kill you,” I said in a low voice. Without looking back to see his face, I
walked outside, forcing myself not to slam the door behind me.

“What’s wrong?”
Michael asked immediately when I got to the car.

“
He’s
there,”
I said, trying to control the anger in my voice.

Michael clenched
his fist. “Want me to go talk to him? End this, once and for all?”

I shook my head.
“No!” I said, a little too forcefully. “Let’s just go to dinner.”

Wordlessly,
Michael opened the passenger door of his BMW for me. I forced a smile as I got
inside.

“Lana, we’re going
to have to talk about him sooner or later,” Michael said gently when he got
into the car.

“I know.” I
sighed. “But I prefer later. I just haven’t wanted to ruin…
this
.”

Michael reached
over and squeezed my hand. “It won’t ruin anything. And Maryanne deserves to
know the truth. I know you’re scared of losing her friendship,” Michael said
hurriedly, before I could respond. “But putting it off isn’t going to change
her reaction. You’ll just have to explain to her, like you did to me, that you
were so surprised when you first saw him that you didn’t know what to do.”

It’s so much
more complicated than that!
I wanted to scream. “I know,” I said instead.

“Let’s just have a
nice evening tonight,” Michael continued. “We can talk about how you want to
handle this tomorrow.”

“Deal,” I said in
relief.

True to his word,
Michael didn’t bring up Damon again. I had never been to the restaurant before.
He always took me to nice places, but this one was particularly swanky. I just
about choked on my wine when I saw the prices.

“What’s the
occasion?” I asked Michael.

“Just spending the
evening with the love of my life,” he replied. “Have I told you how amazing you
look in that skirt?”

Instead of
answering, I leaned forward to kiss him. I never got tired of Michael’s
compliments or the way he looked at me.

It was a
wonderful, romantic dinner. We laughed and talked about school and work, making
plans to go play tennis on Saturday. We had just ordered a dessert to share
when Michael said, “I have something for you.”

“Really?” I asked
in surprise.

Michael reached
into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He handed it to me nervously.

I opened the box,
revealing a beautiful pearl ring. “I hope it fits,” Michael said, smiling.

I pulled the ring
out of the box and slid it onto my right ring finger. “It’s perfect,” I
breathed, tilting my hand back and forth so that the pearl caught the light. It
was set on a platinum band and matched my earrings.

“Michael, you
shouldn’t have,” I said shyly.

“We haven’t known
each other that long,” he whispered, “but I hope I can give you another type of
ring sometime in the near future.”

I flushed with
pleasure.
Mrs. Lana Reynolds
, I mused.

“I really want to
get out of here and have my way with you,” I teased.

“Soon,” he
promised, taking my hands in his.

Our dessert
arrived and Michael asked for the check. “I can’t wait to make love to you,” he
said softly.

We hurriedly
finished the dessert, paid the bill and left. When we got back to Michael’s
apartment, I wrapped my arms around his waist as he was unlocking the door.

Laughing, we
walked inside and Michael turned around and pulled me to him. As always, the
feel of his lips against mine sent shockwaves through my body. Our clothes were
off in record time. I pushed him down onto the couch and straddled him.

The sex was
amazing. I came around Michael and he came inside me. It was the perfect end to
the perfect evening. We collapsed on the couch in a heap, exhausted and giddy.

Michael was on his
back and I was on my side, my head resting on his shoulder. “I was terrified I
had lost you,” Michael said, stroking my hair.

“So was I,” I
admitted.

“And over
something so stupid,” Michael murmured. “Please, Lana, don’t ever keep anything
from me again.”

“I won’t,” I
promised, feeling like a huge fraud.

I fell asleep in
Michael’s arms, unaware that this was the last night that things would ever be
the same.

###

“Hey, beautiful,”
Michael said when I padded into the kitchen the next morning. We had retreated
to the bedroom at some point in the night, and, as usual, Michael had woken up
before me.

I had pulled on
one of his shirts, even though I had my own clothes there. Michael handed me a
cup of coffee. “I was thinking we could get some breakfast then head to the
tennis court,” he suggested.

“Sounds good,” I
agreed distractedly. I was looking at my phone. I had a text from a number that
wasn’t in my contacts.
Did you end it?
Damon hadn’t even bothered to
sign it. And he was getting really brazen. Damon had to know I was still with
Michael, that Michael could have easily picked up my phone and seen the text.

He doesn’t
care. He probably hopes Michael did read it, so that he can drive a wedge
between us.

“What’s wrong?”
Michael asked.

“Nothing,” I
started.

“You look at your
phone and your entire mood has changed,” Michael cut in. “Please, just tell
me.”

I gulped. “It’s a
text from Damon – asking me if I’ve broken up with you yet.”

“Jesus Christ!”
Michael exploded. “This has gone on way too long. Give me your fucking phone.
I’m going to call that pervert and tell him to leave you the fuck alone.”

“No!” I said,
holding my phone protectively.

Michael raked his
hands through his hair. “You’re still keeping something from me, aren’t you?
There’s no other reason I can think of for you to avoid dealing with this for
so long.”

My hands were
physically shaking. I put them in my lap, trying to calm my nerves.

Michael came over
behind me, massaging my shoulders. “I can see how hard this is for you,” he
said, calmer now. “But remember, we’re in this together. Whatever you need to
tell me, I can take it.” He paused. “And it might make you feel better.
Obviously Damon has some kind of hold over you.”

“He does,” I said
slowly. “But it’s not what you think. Hell, it isn’t even about that night at
summer camp anymore.”

Michael walked
around and sat down next to me at the table. “It’s not? Then what? Surely you
don’t have
feelings
for him?”

“Oh, God, no,” I
said immediately. “This is going to make me sound like a horrible person, but
sometimes I find myself wishing he was dead.”

Michael smiled.
“That’s called being human.”

Being human.
I
looked away. I had to tell him. If I didn’t do it now, I would never have the
nerve. And Damon would certainly intervene if I didn’t end it with Michael. I
was cornered, and the only possible way out was if Michael
believed
me,
wanted to
help
me.

“This is going to
sound nuts,” I said. Michael was looking at me expectantly. “Shortly after my
eighteenth birthday, my parents dropped a bombshell on me. I was adopted.”

“You never told me
that!” Michael exclaimed. He shook his head. “There’s no shame in being
adopted, though.”

“I know,” I
whispered. “But that wasn’t the bombshell. They told me that I’m…not completely
human.”

Michael furrowed
his brow in confusion. “What?” he asked.

Slowly, painfully,
I told Michael about my dark roots and my bleak future. He sat there,
wordlessly, through the entire story.

“But don’t you
see? There’s a chance for me now,” I said, looking at Michael, trying to gauge
his reaction. “It’s why I tried not to let you in; I didn’t want anyone else to
share my burden. But with you it’s different. I know in my heart that I’ll
never give in to the darkness; it’s what my mom so staunchly fought to avoid
herself.”

Michael was still
silent. “Please,” I begged. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Michael. Say that
you
believe
me.”

Finally Michael
spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’d rather concoct an insane story
than just tell me the truth. You need help, Lana.”

“Michael, don’t
say that! It
is
the truth. Look, I can show you. I can make things move
with my mind.” I looked around the room frantically. I had to prove to Michael
that I wasn’t lying. I concentrated as hard as possible, willing the potholders
to move off their hooks and onto the floor. Nothing happened.

Michael was
shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief. “You must think I’m an idiot,” he
said, anger creeping into his voice. “I should have known this was too good to
be real. You’re just as bad as Abigail. Fuck, maybe you
are
cheating on
me with Damon. Maybe this is your excuse to run off with him.”

I could feel him
slipping away. “I’m not lying!” I said defensively. “If you’d just give me a
chance to prove it,” I started.

“Just stop!”
Michael cut me off, furious. “You need to leave.”

“What?” I asked in
astonishment.

“You heard me. I
want you out of my apartment before I say something I can’t take back.” Michael
was standing by the window now, staring out of it, refusing to look at me.

“I know it sounds
absurd, but I wanted you to know my secret. Once you get used to it, it won’t
seem so insane anymore.” I was desperate; he had to understand.

Michael finally
turned to look at me. His eyes were cold, devoid of emotion. “You don’t have
your car here. I’ll call you a cab.” And with that, he walked out of the
kitchen.

I buried my head
in my hands, letting the floodgates open. I cried, deep wrenching sobs, feeling
as though my heart had broken in two. But this time, Michael didn’t come back
to comfort me.

It’s over. The
best thing that ever happened to you is gone.

I was numb with
shock. A little while later, Michael came back into the kitchen, holding my
backpack. “I packed everything of yours that I could find,” he said flatly,
tossing it onto the floor next to me. “Cab’s here.”

I stood up,
bracing my weight on the table, scared my knees might give out. “Please,
Michael,” I begged, “if you could just take some time to think about what I’ve
told you. You’ll see that I’m not lying.”

“You’re either
lying or you’re crazy, and if it’s the latter then you need to see a
psychiatrist,” Michael said coldly.

Finally accepting
that there was nothing else I could say, I grabbed my backpack and walked
through the front door, out of Michael’s life forever.