Coveted
Chapter 21
I had tried texting Michael that evening but he didn't respond. Neither did Bran. I was no closer to sorting out my own feelings and this isolation was only making matters worse. My imagination was running with the possibilities of what Michael had seen. His reaction had been too strong for there not to have been something and for that something not to have been significant.
Bran did not come to visit me Friday. He did not text or stop by on Saturday, even when I sent him a text telling him my mother was working a double shift.
Sunday, my mother announced my excessive grounding was over. It wasn't really excessive but the gnawing was nearly apoplectic over the extended absence of Bran. I texted him to let him know he could come by. My fingers shook against the phone as I waited for a reply. Maybe he had left for good because I hadn't given him the answer he wanted.
Twenty minutes later, I lay curled up on my bed, trying to figure out how I would ever silence the torment inside my body and wishing it would just get it over with and make good on its threats already. It raked its claws slowly and deliberately down my insides over and over. The doorbell rang and it shrieked of our victory. Bran had come.
I leapt from the bed and sprinted down the hall to answer the door.
"Waiting for someone?" My mother asked as I passed the kitchen. The smile was evident in her tone.
I grabbed the door handle to rip it open but it held fast. I hadn't unlocked it. Frustrated with the delay made by my own stupidity, I gave the deadbolt a vicious turn before attempting again to open the door. I did not even wait to take in the sight of him before throwing myself at Bran. I clasped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder. When his arms wrapped around my waist and I felt his breath on my cheek, I melted into him. He chuckled.
"Everything alright, dove?" he asked.
I hadn't meant to cry and yet my eyes were wet. "I thought you had left."
He held me more tightly. "Never," he whispered in his strong burr. "I'm sorry. I just... I was being stupid. I was trying to torture myself, not you."
"Don't ever leave."
He said nothing but continued to hold me.
We ended up on the couch watching Doctor Who while my mother talked on the phone in the kitchen. The melodic chirping of my phone rang down the hall. Considering two of the three people who would ever call or text me were in the house, I had a good idea who it was.
If it hadn't been for his extreme reaction on Thursday and the fact he had ignored all my texts since, I would have ignored him in favour of staying snuggled against Bran's side on the couch. As it was, I nipped down to my room to grab my phone.
Sure enough. Michael had texted: Maria and I aren't together anymore.
"Everything alright?" Bran asked as I walked back into the room while reading it.
"Maria and Michael broke up."
"Poor guy," he said. "He seemed to really like her."
I settled back next to him. "Well, she was his first girlfriend."
He considered. "Was she any other first?"
Michael hadn't really said much about them either way. "No idea."
"Let's hope not. It's always hardest to get over your first," he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Look at me? I went into a millennial funk over it." He grinned down at me.
"Very funny."
I texted back: You were always too good for her anyway.
When I got his reply. I had no idea what to make of it: I dumped her. I had not expected that. I had assumed Maria had finally given up on him. It wasn't like they were problem free and she wasn't exactly going to wait forever for him to make her feel special.
I re-read his message quietly out loud.
Bran was silent at first. "Interesting," he said finally.
A few minutes later, my mother came out of the kitchen. She hurried to the coat rack as she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail. "Just got a text from the clinic," she said, grabbing her jacket. "They've had another cruelty case brought in and they need the help."
"Do they know where it was found?" Bran asked.
"Up by Luna Point." She pulled on her sneakers.
"I guess that's my cue to leave," Bran said pushing up from the couch.
My mother smiled and thank him for being so perfect before rushing out the door. Her glee with his apparent cooperation with her Victorian values drove me nuts.
"Is your dad going to get mad if you miss curfew?" I teased.
He winked at me. "Just have some things to check out," he said.
My heart dropped into my gut. He was going to Luna Point. "Do you think that's wise?"
He leaned over me so that his face was inches from mine. The warrior and the inferno had both come to life behind his eyes. "You think anyone is going to mess with me and win?"
The vivid memory of the bloody dagger being withdrawn from his chest and of several soldiers dog piling even his mortal self and losing backed up his bravado. Even without immortality, he had been formidable. I pouted. "Well, I still don't like it. Will you come back after?"
"Even if it's late?" he asked as he walked over to his shoes.
I walked to the coat rack to rummaged in my coat pocket for my keys. I handed them to him. "Just let yourself in if it's too late, and make sure my mother isn't back."
The mischief was back in his eyes. "Will do," he said with a salute. He gave me a quick kiss before following my mother's lead and rushing out the door.
I looked down at Michael's messages on my phone. It didn't matter who had dumped whom. His first relationship had ended and right after he had remembered something he wouldn't share. I threw on a sweater and walked across the lawn to his house to check on him.
It took him several minutes of my knocking before he opened the door and when he did, it was only a crack.
"Everything alright?" I asked. I knew full well everything was not alright. Nothing had been since he had touched the stone.
"Got Maria's flu," he said.
The fact that he was not now cursing the existence of stupid germs made me skeptical. "Can I come in?"
He closed the door by a few millimeters. "Better not. It's really bad. I've been vomiting all day."
"Yikes, you going to be ok?"
He wouldn't look at me. "You better go home, Lu. I don't want you to get it. Maria's still sick too so this isn't some minor bug."
Why did he not seem to understand how serious this was? I didn't care about getting sick, if he even was suffering from anything physical at all. "Michael, I really think we need to talk."
"Once I've finally vomited up my shoes, we can talk as much as you want. Now, I better get going. I think I can feel them starting their northern migration." He closed the door without saying or waiting for a good-bye.