AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Another wide smile broadens on my face, his words about choosing the family you want still ringing in my ears as he calls Val downstairs.
“I never asked. Who are you going as tonight?”
“I’m going as the Joker,” I reply with a mischievous wink.
“Of course you are. I should have known.” He chuckles at the same time Val takes the last stair, her beautiful smile widening the minute her eyes land on mine.
“Well if you’re going as the Joker, then I guess I’m your Harley Quinn,” she sing songs with a light laugh, soothing my nerves and turning what was turning out to be an epic fail of a Halloween into the best one I’ve ever had in my life.
Chapter 11
Now
________________________________________
Carter
Iwake up with a groan. The sun's just barely come up, and I curse it. To say I didn't sleep well would be an understatement. I slept for maybe two hours, my mind filled with all things Valentina. The highlight reel, of course, being that kiss that I, in a moment of weakness, gave into.
I also couldn't get her look of disappointment out of my head.
Despite the early hour, my phone buzzes. Logan's sent me a text. It's weird to see his name on my phone after so long. There had been a time when I couldn't go an hour without him or Quaid texting me dumb shit. We'd texted a few times after we went our separate ways, but none of us bothered to update the others when we changed our phone numbers. There was no reason to. We had become strangers to each other faster than we'd become friends.
We'd exchanged phone numbers last night, and looking at their names now, I'm not sure if I regret that or not. Everything felt like either a beautiful dream, or the beginning of my worst nightmare.
I'd lost them all once, and I could readily admit that I'd become a dark, crueler, colder person in their absence. Losing them again…especially Valentina, might get rid of the last vestiges of humanity left inside me.
I’m already the guy who took pictures of the dead soldier so I could win awards. I’m scared to see what a more broken version of myself would be like.
Shaking my head to try and ward off my depressing thoughts, I open the text, a strong wave of déjà vu hitting me when I do so. His and Quaid's text messages are very reminiscent of our youth. The messages both being strongly-worded commands for me not to fuck up the day or hurt Valentina.
It’s hard to understand how they could just jump right back in as if nothing had happened. Like she hadn't left us. They’re both good-looking guys. As an artist, I'd always been aware of the beauty in others, even if the male form does nothing for me. I'm sure there hadn't been a shortage of women in their lives in the time we'd been apart. Quaid especially. Football stardom and pussy go hand in hand, after all.
Yet here the two of them are, desperately jumping right back in to Valentina's orbit, as if she is the sun and what they need to survive.
It’s pathetic really. We aren't teenage boys anymore, desperate to find acceptance wherever we could. She’s a stranger now. She’s nothing now.
Or at least, that's what I try to tell myself.
But still, that kiss floats through my mind, or maybe beats on my brain was a more apt description. The memory is determined to be acknowledged, even if I’m doing my best to cast it aside.
Another text comes in from Logan.
The Louvre at 10.Breakfast first at Les Doux Magots.
I sighand flop back into my pillows, unsure if I want to taint my favorite city in the world with memories of them.
I was supposed to see Paris with Valentina. We'd talked about it when it was just the two of us, opened travel books, and planned out imaginary itineraries. Instead, I'd gone by myself, two years after she'd left on an early assignment at one of the first newspapers that I'd worked at. I'd wandered the city, falling in love with everything about it, and trying to heal my heart once and for all.
My heart hadn't healed, but Paris had become a part of me. A place where I'd finally been happy after two long miserable years.
And now Valentina was going to fuck it all up.
I'm tempted to send back a text that I was going to pass. But once again, that kiss, her eyes, the feel of her skin barrel their way into my mind.
I'd thought that I'd recovered from my addiction to Valentina, but it’s obvious that it’s as strong as it had ever been.
Fuck.
