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Glaring at the paper on his desk, Carmine read the last question for the twentieth time, but he was no closer to an answer than he had been five minutes ago.
He groaned as he slouched in the hard plastic chair, shifting position to get comfortable. The girl beside him shot him an annoyed look, and he cocked an eyebrow at her, daring her to say something. She huffed dramatically before focusing back on her test. He stared at her, unable to place her name.
Michelle? Mandy? Monique? He couldn’t fucking remember.
She cut her eyes at him again and mouthed, “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” he said, turning to his paper. He didn’t care about her. He barely noticed anyone anymore. They were all the same, and there wasn’t a single thing any of them could do for him. Haven was everything he wanted, the reason he sat in this room, stressing over this ridiculous test, so he could take her away and start a new life somewhere.
The administrator announced there were five minutes left, and Carmine sighed loudly as he read the question once more. He tried to wrap his brain around the analogies, but he didn’t know what half the words meant. He gave up and dropped the pencil, not bothering to answer. The only analogy that mattered was weed is to smoke, as pussy is to fuck, because that was the only thing that would ease his nerves today.
ook his head. “You should do it.”
She carefully tore the flap and pulled out the paper. The actual scores meant nothing to her as she stared at the certificate attached to the transcript, the words HIGH SCHOOL EQUIVALENCY DIPLOMA etched along the top with a golden seal.
“I passed?” she asked, trying to hold back the excitement threatening to burst forth, but it was stronger than her. She threw herself at Carmine before he could get out a word, knocking him over. “I passed!”
“You did,” he said. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I knew you would.”
He kissed her slowly, softly, pure passion emanating from him. It was an innocent kiss, yet so much more. It was a kiss of redemption, of forgiveness and pride. It was a kiss that said no matter what may have happened in the past, there was still hope for the future.
Hope. It was a feeling she reveled in now, instead of cowering from as before. “Thank you for believing in me,” she whispered against his mouth.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, pulling back with a smile. “And don’t worry, because everything will work out. We’re one step closer. You can go to college now.”
“What about you? When are you going to test for college?”
“Soon,” he said. “I signed up before we went to California.”
“Are you excited?”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t call the SATs thrilling, tesoro. I’m just ready to get it over with. I need to fill out applications, so we need to figure out where we’re going . . . especially if I’m gonna try to play football. California? New York? Camelot? Emerald City? Take your pick.”
She had no idea where half of those places were. “I don’t know.”
“Well, think about it, okay? But not today. Today’s for celebrating, not thinking. Look at where you were a year ago and look at you now. You’re free, you have a degree, and we’re in love and gonna make it through this shit even if it kills us.” He paused, his brow furrowing as she laughed. “Yeah, that didn’t make sense, but you get what I’m saying. We haven’t had a reason to celebrate in a while, so come on, get up, put on some decent clothes, and let’s forget about all of this for a while and be. We don’t get to just be enough.”
She glanced down at the black pants and Durante High School football shirt she wore. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Everything I said and all you got from that is me telling you to change?” he asked with amusement, pulling her to her feet. “Change. Clothes, not you. I don’t want you to ever change, but I’m kinda tired of looking at that fucking shirt.”
“I like this shirt,” she said defensively, his laughter filtering back in as he left the room.
45
Haven stayed busy during the days when Carmine was at school, but it was difficult for her not to dwell on things when alone. Guilt continued to gnaw away at her.
She awoke the third Saturday in September as Carmine got out of the shower. She lay still in bed and watched him as he tried his best not to disturb her. He stood in front of the closet, and even in the semidarkened room, she could make out the definition of his back muscles and the lines of his tattoos. His skin glowed in the faint light filtering in from the open bathroom door, mesmerizing her. Even his scar shimmied as he absentmindedly rubbed it.
If there was one image of Carmine DeMarco she never wanted to forget, it was this one—him exposed and vulnerable, sneaking around his own bedroom in the dark. It was something few would ever see, but it was an image she couldn’t bear to lose. Most people knew the selfish young boy, spoiled and irresponsible, but she was lucky enough to see Carmine for who he truly was. Completely stripped down to the core, a gentle soul despite his scarred exterior.
The quiet contentment he oozed when he thought no one was watching took her breath away. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and just the fact that, after everything, he could still stand in front of her as he was spoke volumes.
He sighed and slipped on some clothes before grabbing a pair of Nikes from his closet. He kicked the corner of the bed as he walked by and cursed profusely under his breath. Haven tried to stifle her laughter but failed, his head snapping in her direction when he heard her.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked, sitting down to slip on the shoes.
“A few minutes.”
