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“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she tells me, cutting off my inane chattering. Thank God, because I probably would have admitted I’ve been dreaming about her.
A fog rolls in, covering our feet, and the lights flicker. I would blame the ghosts, but I don’t see any around. This could just be some good, old-fashioned New Orleans creepiness. The city likes to surprise me on nights like this.
I look at the ground, then at her face. The change in the atmosphere doesn’t seem to affect her, but I have to ask anyway. “Would you like to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere less spooky?”
She throws her head back and laughs at me. “Afraid, Hex?” she teases. “I wouldn’t think a manly man like you would be intimidated by a little fog.”
“I’m not,” I defend, once again surprised by her candor. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“I’m a big girl, Hex. Believe it or not, I’m perfectly capable to let you know when I am and am not comfortable.”
She keeps catching me off guard in unexpected ways. She’s witty and bold, whip-smart, and unafraid to call me out on my bullshit. Every time I’m with her, I can’t help but wonder how she’d fit in with Abigail, Tory, and Evanesce.
Abigail and Evanesce would probably bring her into their fold immediately because that’s just who they were. Tory would likely be more skeptical at first, but she’d eventually come around. As much as she wants me to find love and settle down, she’s very particular about who she envisions me with.
We’ve had long talks over breakfast about her ideal partner for me. She’s always told me I deserve to be with someone who makes me feel loved and cared for, and I feel a portion of that when I’m around Juliana. It’s obviously too soon to even consider love.
Sure, she is literally the girl of my dreams, but she’s been through a lot of pain recently. I wouldn’t blame her if she wants to take things slowly and see how things unfold. That’s what I want too.
But I do feel like it’s my turn for love. I’ve sat back while Pocus and Seer have found their dream girls. I don’t envy them their happiness with Abigail and Tory, but I’m tired of waiting around while their lives move on and mine stays stagnant. It’s time we all grow up and stop sleeping around with random women all the time.
Juliana pulls me back from my thoughts, and I realize she’s watching me carefully. “Everything okay in there?” she jokes. “Did I say something so controversial you can’t believe it came out of my mouth?”
I laugh. “Not at all. I find you refreshing.”
“Well, find this refreshing.” She laughs, taking off toward the jungle gym. “I bet I can get up the jungle gym faster than you can.”
She climbs up it quickly, like she’s a monkey. She’s at the top before I realize she’s gone. I race after her, but it’s fruitless. She’s won this battle, just like the last one.
“You cheat!” I accuse her from the ground. She turns to sit on the top of the structure and blows a raspberry at me. Saucy little minx.
“So what?” she calls down. “Life is a cheat. We might as well bend the rules to our favor.”
I climb up and sit next to her, taking in the view from the top. The fog has settled onto the ground and a slight breeze picks up, swirling her hair around her face. I’m careful not to touch her, worried I’ll scare her away. That’s the last thing I want.
“Tell me the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” she tells me, not a request, but a demand.
“Meeting you had been pretty great,” I say, and she fixes me with an annoyed look.
“Too cheesy,” she says. “Something that happened before you met me.”
I think back over my life and the years of misery it held. My awful mother and realizing I was a freak for seeing the ghosts. The best thing that ever happened to me was…
“Meeting my friend Pocus. He saved me from the shithole that was my life.”
She smiles and nods, considering my answer.
“I think coming to America was the best for me,” she tells me. “Obviously there have been struggles, but I’m glad my parents loved me enough to bring me. Now tell me the worst.”
I bristle at her frankness, knowing her answer is at the tip of her tongue. The best thing in her life became the worst in one fell swoop. But there have been so many bad things in my life. Where to even begin?
“I could argue that being born was where it all went to shit for me.” I laugh. “I was imprisoned about a year ago by a rival gang. That wasn’t a riot.”
She looks at me in surprise, but I shrug it off. There’s a lot we need to learn about each other, and we have all the time in the world to do it.
“The police showed up at my house last night and accused me and all of my friends of blowing up someone’s home. And there was this thing where my best friend almost died.”
“Shit,” she breathes out. “I’m sorry I asked.”
