Pure Illusion (13 page)

Show & Tell

Mrs.
Handler crashes through the door wearing a bright yellow nightie, her chestnut-colored
hair spilling down her shoulders, and a sea green mask paste smeared all over
her face in some kind of nightly facial. Her phone plastered to her ear. Once
she assesses the situation, she sighs in relief, placing a dramatic hand on her
heaving chest. Her concerned eyes shift to Lark. “Christ, I thought someone was
dying.”

He
shrugs, nonchalantly. “Isabel hurt her hand. The cut is kinda deep.” I’m so
thankful that he’s covering for me.

I’m
such an idiot.

Her
panicked brown eyes flicker to me. “Are you okay, darling? Do you need a ride
to the hospital?”

“N-n-no,”
I stammer. “I’m okay, thanks to Lark.” I lift my bandaged hand to show her his
handiwork.

She
nods, then mutters into her cell. “Listen, Gina, I have to go. Isabel hurt her
hand. I have to make sure she’s alright.”
A short pause and
then, “Yes,
that
Isabel.
Isabel Waters.”

I
can’t help but think of what they’re referencing me to.

The mentally unstable Isabel Waters?

The suicidal Isabel Waters?

The strange and odd Isabel Waters?

Lark
shakes his head muttering something too low to hear. He moves towards me,
placing a hand on my lower back. I take this as a clue and jump down off the
sink counter.

“Mom,
I got this. I’m gonna walk her to Rex’s house.”

Mrs.
Handler frowns, phone still glued to her ear. “Are you sure?”

Lark
steadies me as I sway a little. “Yes, Mrs. Handler. Thank you for offering to
help.” I grip Lark’s hand, interlocking our fingers. He glances down at our
entwined hands but says nothing as we wander to the door.

“Wait!”
Mrs. Handler yells after us.

We
both pause on our heels.

“What
mom?”

I
hear her rip a few pieces of tissues from the roll. She strolls in our
direction and steps around us, patting my tear-stained face dry. “You look so
pretty tonight. Just a little fix up is all you need.” She smiles and wipes
under my eyes. Her movements are soft and gentle and familiar—a mother’s touch.
Closing my eyes, I allow myself to feel the warmth of her touch and smell the
refreshing scent of her sea green mask. If my mother was still alive, she would
wipe my face lovingly like this and tell me that I looked pretty. “There.
Perfection.”
She drops her hands and I open my eyes.

Lark
squeezes my hand for assurance.

“Thank
you, Mrs. Handler.”

She
nods, still smiling a kind smile. But before we exit out the door, she calls my
name.

I
turn my head back to look at her.
                                                     

“I’m
so sorry about Tyler. He was such a bright and loving kid. Everyone knew it.”

My
heart feels like it’s been sucker punched. I need to get out of here; the pity
in her sunken expression is making me sick. “Thank you, Mrs. Handler, but I
have to go now.”

Lark
and I remain silent, still holding hands as we amble about in the frosty night
air. The dark sky is obscured with thick smoky grey storm clouds that blanket
everything above. The wind is picking up, swaying the street signs and the
branches of the trees. The moisture and the scent of rain are very heavy in the
air. It looks bad. We pass stretches of suburbia, the brick houses are getting
larger and the cars more expensive as we tread up hill. “How did you know I was
going to Rex’s party?”

He
shrugs, looking straight ahead. “You’re dressed like a beauty queen.”

“Why
aren’t you there?”

He
dips his head down to look at me.
“Seriously?”
He
sounds offended.

“Yeah.”

“Tyler,
Hero, and I are like outsiders, or were like outsiders. It was the three of us
against the world. We were all ostracized through no fault of our own.
Tyler because of his sexuality.
Hero
because of his affiliation with Tyler and me because of Falcon.
Rex is
the head honcho around here, just like Max was. Things never change in Cherry
Creek; the cycle repeats itself over and over again. This town is full of
ignorant and intolerant people. As soon as I graduate, I’m headin’ up north.
New York.”

“Yeah?
What’s your
goal?”

“I
don’t know yet. Maybe start a rock band and get famous. Or fall back on my
genetic gifts and model. I’ll let you know once I do.” He laughs a sad,
humorless laugh. “Why are
you
going to Rex’s party?”

“I
want to see what partying with a bunch of minors is like.”

He
grins. “You’re still a minor yourself.”

My
face scrunches up as I tip my head back to stare at him. “I’m twenty.”

His
grin broadens.
“Exactly.
So no alcohol
for you, little one.”

I
bat my lashes purposely.
“Yes, Daddy.”

Lark growls, guttural and primal.
“You have a
daddy
complex
. I can work with that.”

Laughing,
I playfully nudge his shoulder with mine. “I thought we were past this?”

His
grips my hand tighter as we approach Rex’s house that glows a cool shade of
arctic blue from the flashing lights that sit in the front yard. Obstreperously
drunk people are still scattered among the vast lawn, and they all seem to
watch as with morbid curiosity. Harmony isn’t anywhere in sight and my car is
gone. I left my cell in the front seat. She must be looking for me.

“Just
so you know, I would’ve given it to you in the worst possible way, and I mean
that in
good
way. I used to fantasize about you a lot before Tyler…” He
trails off unsure or refusing to finish his sentence. “You’re just really,
extremely sexy.”

Smiling,
I lift my free hand and run my fingers through his soft dark hair. “Thank you.”

His
eyes crinkle at the sides and then they drift to my lips. He tilts his head to
the side, as if considering something. “I say we give them something to talk
about?”

I
glance at the gathering crowd and look back to Lark, who is grinning from ear
to ear, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Like
what?”

“A kiss?”

My fingers spasms in his hair.
“Yeah?”

He
nods, lowering his head.
“Yeah.
But you have to kiss
me like you love me. Like you never want to let me go.”

“Tongues and all?”

“Tongues
and all,” he confirms.

I
lean forward, our lips inches apart. “You’re twisted,” I tease, but I’m excited
to get a little action from him, even if it’s just a pretend I-love-you kiss.

“In
the worst way,” Lark agrees, hazel eyes darkening into something dangerous and
unexplored. The tip of his pink tongue skates over his lips, making my stomach
flutter.

I
bite down on mine.

He
moves closer, slanting his head at the perfect angel, the heat of his breath
washing over my face.

My
lips part on their own freewill.

He
presses his firm but supple lips against mine and kisses me, gentle and controlled
at first but as the kiss deepens so does the intensity. His sweet-tasting
tongue delves into my mouth and a small cold metal ball skillfully flicks
against my tongue. I groan from the unfamiliar pleasure and Lark’s arms come
around my waist, scooping me into his hard chest. Both hands tug at his hair
now, urging him closer. Our lips desperately seek each other’s. My tongue
tentatively meets his in a slow, assured dance. Lark’s hands reach down,
cupping my ass and pressing me into his hard-on. A shiver ripples down my neck.
I trap his bottom lip between my teeth and softly bite down and then suck on
his lip ring. Lark shuts his eyes and moans, squeezing my butt at the same
time.

“Oh,
God,” he grunts, “I think I’m gonna come.”

I
break the kiss and lean back, looking into murky eyes that stare back at me.
“You have a tongue piercing?”

He
pokes the slim pole out with a tiny ball at both ends, gripping one end between
his teeth. 

“That’s
hot. I love you, baby.” I say it loud enough for others to hear.

He
smiles, shaking his head, letting his tongue settle back in his mouth. “Daddy
loves you, too.” His fingers dig into my backside, and I shudder. He inclines
forward, placing his lips to the shell of my ear. “Damn, Isabel, you can kiss.
I’m sort of rethinking what I said about that quick fuck in my bathroom.”

Placing
my hands on his shoulder, I push him back. “Sorry. You already turned down the
offer.” I lick his nose and start to stride towards the house with everyone’s
mouth gaping open and wide eyes on me.

I’d
rather be a whore than a suicidal freak, so eat up folks.

Infiltrating Enemy Territory

I
have to maneuver through trash and hop over bottles as I navigate through the
packed house. It’s crammed with sweaty teens, body to body and from
wall-to-wall. A drunken dark-haired girl with a red shimmering dress and shiny
silver heels runs into me, spilling some of her beer on my dress.

“
OhmiGod!
”
She slings her
now half-filled plastic cup out the way, fizzy alcohol slouching from the sides.
She attempts to help me dry it with napkins on one of many tables. “I’m so
sorry.”

“No,
it’s okay. I got it.”

Her
hand limply drops at her side, the other holding the red cup to her mouth as
she chugs down the beer.

The
liquid doesn’t penetrate due to the glasslike jewels, so the dress is saved and
I’m not wet.

A
guy with deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, and oily hair, wraps an arm around
her back.
“C’mon, Apple.
You promised to give it up
tonight. The party is dead, now I wanna go home and get my dick wet.”

I
don’t understand that in this town even the assholes and douchebags are somehow
attractive. It has to be the water, or maybe the cherries.

She
giggles and begins to slur. I don’t understand a word she’s saying, but the
jerk-off has made his intentions crystal clear. I can’t allow him to take her
home, not while she is severely intoxicated like she is.

I
grab Apple’s wrist with my good hand and haul her towards me. “Sorry, but Apple
promised
me
should stay with
me
tonight.”

He
stares at me with his red eyes inadvertently half open. He’s obviously high, or
drunk, or maybe both.  “And who the hell are you?”

“Isabel.
Who the hell are
you
?”

He
points to himself, expression amused. “Me? My name…is Ricky. Ricky Patterson. And
you have my girlfriend captive.”

Slanting
my head, I look at Apple. Her brown eyes are round and glossy and her cheeks
are very chubby with innocence and baby fat and bright pink. She’s young.
Really young.
“Sorry, Ricky Patterson, but Apple is staying
with me tonight. She isn’t fit for
any
activity. I’ll take her home
after I speak to Rex.”

“Rex?”
a male voice chimes in.

Derrick
West, Jake’s little brother, comes around the corner, butterscotch eyes on me.
Derrick looks like a younger version of Jake: athletic build, brown skin the
color of caramel, brilliant, hypnotic eyes the color of honey. And black
buzzed-cut hair that’s shaven really close to the scalp.

He’s
beautiful.

“Did
you just say you had to speak to Rex?” Derrick asks, eyes narrowing.

“Uh, yeah.
I just want to
tell him happy birthday,” I whisper, dragging Apple closer to me.

“She
won’t let Apple go,” Ricky complains.

Derrick’s
eyes shift to Ricky. “I think you should go home, Rick. You’re wasted out of
your mind and Apple is too. Coach already said you have one more time to slip
up before he kicks you off the team. I can call him right now and express my
concern of you wanting to bring intoxicated girls back to your filthy shed and
sleep with them and then tell everyone else at school. But from what I’ve
heard, you’re packing something light, something unmemorable at best.”

Ricky’s
mouth opens in disbelief. “You’d take that bitch’s side? You’re
my
teammate, man. Work
with
me, not against me.”

Derrick
lifts his thick brows, shaking his head. “No. I don’t get down like that.
Instead of gettin’ smashed, what you should have done was look out for Apple.
You know what her situation is; you just don’t give a fuck. From the looks of
it, she’s going to be sick. But I guess you don’t care about that, either.”

Ricky
actually stomps and whines, on the verge of a temper tantrum. “Derrick, man,
you don’t understand,” he grips his groin hard with one hand, “I have a
problem, a sex problem. I’m a sex addict. I care for Apple, I really do. But
the crying, whining, and moping is never-ending with her. I have a mother and
four
sisters, and I love them all. I listen to their problems
all
the time.
But dammit, sometimes, when it comes to my girl, all I want is a nice warm hole
to shove my dick in. Is that really a crime?”

I
tense from the lewdness and honesty of it all.

Derrick
snorts, un-amused. “Since you’re really fucked up, I’ll let that pass tonight.
No girls. No nice warm holes. Go home, Rick. Get some sleep, because you’re
going to need it tomorrow when I kick your ass.”

Ricky’s
brows crease together. “Yeah, whatever, man.” He looks over at Apple, eyes
flashing fire. “We’re over, Apple. Find someone else to whine to. I’m not your
keeper. I got better things to do.” Then he stares at me. “Bitch, I hope you
find Rex and get what’s coming to you; he’s just like his brother.” Without
another word, Ricky stumbles down the hall and towards the exit.

Apple
mumbles something too low to hear and flops down in a black folded chair by the
table that’s lined with alcohol bottles and cups. Apple rests her head against
the wall as her eyelids droop close.

“She’ll
be fine after a vomit break and long nap.”

I
nod and turn my attention back to Derrick. “What does that mean?” I ask,
confused.

“What
does what mean?”

“What
Ricky said about Rex being just like his brother?”

“You
haven’t heard the rumors?”

I
shake my head.

“Everyone
says that Max raped Lily and that’s why they’re not together anymore.”

My
eyes expand and my throat tightens. “What?”

He
shrugs, indifferently. “That’s what everyone says.”

“But
he’s a cop.”

“I
know. Maybe it’s true. Maybe it’s bullshit. Cherry Creek is always swirling
with some kind of secrets and rumors of the town’s residents. I don’t pay any
mind to it, though. You shouldn’t either. I only believe things I see with my
eyes, and my eyes saw you kissing
Lark
. You guys were locking face like
your lives depended on it.”

“Jealous, Derrick?”
I tease.

His
breathtaking eyes squint and he takes slow deliberate steps until he’s almost nose
to nose with me. “If I wanted to kiss you, I would kiss you.”

Learning
forward, my mouth descends on his, forming my lips to his soft ones. The kiss
is just a light peck, because Derrick is too stunned to respond to it. I pull
back and smile at him as he stares at me, brows snapping together in either
anger, confusion, or both. People gasp and mutter insults under their breath.

I
don’t care.

They
can say anything they want about me, because it’s about
me
, not Tyler,
not my dead parents. I’m only trading one false reputation for another, so why
should I care how
they
feel towards me.

They
don’t know me.

They
never will.

Derrick’s
eyes fall to the ground and his hand lifts to touch his mouth, his fingers
linger on his bottom lip. Maybe he’s savoring the kiss. He looks like he’s
pondering and then his eyes gradually meet mine, full of compassion and
sincerity that see through my layers as if I am entirely translucent. “You
should get those fixed.”

I
jerk my head back and watch his arm drop to his side. “What fixed?”

“You’re
wings. They’re broken. You need to fix them so you can fly again.”

The
pain in my chest is so sudden and severe that I have to take a step back. My
body feels seized, my lungs are constricted, and I just want to crumble into
nothing and get carried away with the wind.

The
hysterical wail rattling in my chest wants out, it’s ripping me apart from in
the inside out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is barely
a whisper.

His
expression turns into pleading. “I do. My grandma passed two months ago. I
loved her more than I loved myself. She was
my everything
and when she died, a piece of my damn soul died. Let it out. It hurts, but
that’s life. You can survive this. Just let it out.”

Squeezing
my eyes shut, I begin to inhale through my tingly nose. Through the blistering
agony and grief, I find some kind of resolve and open my eyes, straightening my
spine and squaring my shoulders. I yank a half filled vodka bottle from the
table, twist open the cap and gulp. The alcohol scorches my mouth, tongue,
throat and chest; it takes the very breath right out of me. I suck in a lungful
if oxygen through gritted teeth and wipe the burning, numbing liquid from my
lips. “Don’t worry, Derrick. I’ll let it out, maybe with your brother, Jake. He
can be next. Do you think he’ll like me?”

“The fuck, Isabel?”

Hero
appears from nowhere and jerks the bottle out of my hand.  If I didn’t
catch myself on the back of Apple’s chair, I would have fallen to the ground
from Hero’s raw strength. “What the fuck, Derrick?” He gets dangerously close
in Derrick’s face, his expression livid. “You let her drink Everclear?!”

Derrick
takes a cautious step back. “She only took a sip. It was fast. I was going to
snatch from her.”

“When?
When she’s
drunk off her ass?” Hero questions as he takes another step forward.

“Hero,”
Derrick puts his palms up, “calm down. I consider you a
real
friend. I
don’t want to fight.”

“I
thought we were friends, but this shit—” he holds the bottle up to Derrick’s
face
and mockingly jiggles it “—should not be going down
with
her
. You know. Goddamn it! YOU KNOW!”

Feeling
the angry swell inside of me, I sidestep Hero and put my hands on his hard
chest, pushing him with all my might.

He
doesn’t even budge.

Hero
grabs my wrist, swiftly switching positions and then my back slams into
something hard.
A wall.
He’s gripping my wrists so
tightly; I feel my pulse thud heavily against his clenching fingers that pinch
my skin. Hero presses up against me, the hard contours of his body against
mine. He holds my arms above my head. We both stare at one another, our
breathing ragged, and chests heaving. His scent, that’s so very similar to
Hunter’s, is suffocating me. I struggle in his grasp, trying to free myself,
but he only uses more force to pin me down, the Everclear bottle still in hand.

Narrowing
my eyes, I look into stormy dark blue ones that stare back at. There is an
array of emotions brewing there: animosity, frustration, annoyance, irritation,
misery, confusion, attraction, loathsome, aroused, bewilderment.

My
wrists grow limp in his hands. “It’s okay,” I breathe. I spread my legs further
apart, letting his hips fall deeper into mine. “You can have me, Hero. I can
share.”

He
shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on mine, breathing still labored. Hero
gives me the tiniest of a thrust, the hardness of his arousal nudging me
through the material of his jeans.

I
inhale sharply.

“This
is fucking insane,” he whispers very lowly so I can only hear. “God, I don’t
even know why…” he trails off, sighing and shaking his head.

“Shh.
It’s okay. You don’t have to explain; I don’t care either way. Let me talk to
Rex. You can take me after.”

His
eyes fly open, face contorting into disbelief and disgust. He releases my
wrists, taking a step back.

I
massage the harsh red rings around my wrists. My eyes glance around the
corridor and I notice that we have gathered a small crowd of partygoers. They
drink from their cups and murmur things among themselves; some even snap
pictures and take recording with their phones.

“I’m
going to take Apple home,” Derrick declares, scooping her from the chair and
over his shoulder. He places a hand on the back of her thighs, covering her
exposed skin from prying eyes.

Hero
scrubs his face with his hand. “Thanks, Dee. Sorry, man. Almost lost it there,”
Hero says quietly, placing the bottle back on the table.

Derrick
lifts his chin and they bump fists.
“Later, Hero.”
Derrick twists his neck to look back at me. “Get those wings fixed, Isabel.”

I
scrunch of my face, rolling my eyes and watch him saunter down the hall with a
passed out girl limply hanging over his shoulder.

“Why
do you need to talk to Rex?” Hero asks suspiciously.

“I
just want to tell him happy birthday,” I lie, batting my lashes. The long gulp
I took has me buzzing a little. I feel lighter, not drunk yet though.

Hero’s
eyes run the length of my body, disapproving and judging the entire time. “That
dress is way too short. I can almost see the color of your panties.”

I
step closer to him and lower my voice to a low octave for his ears only. “I
think you’re wrong. It’s not short enough, considering I’m not wearing any
panties.”