Shine On Page 5

  “What’s so funny?” Kenji asked from behind me.

  “Too many things to list.” I bent over my knees to view the glowing water with the help of the lamps below the surface.

  He sat down next to me but with his legs crossed. He snagged the pack of cigarettes and lighter from my lap. “When did you start smoking again?”

  “A few days after Ivy and I talked at Diamonds about how she wants me to forgive her and accept her as a friend again.” She wanted much more, but I wasn’t comfortable explaining it to him.

  “You left the restaurant because of her,” he said with assurance.

  “Pretty much. I went outside for a smoke, and she followed me.” I balanced on my hands and stared up at the sky. “We recreated the scene from the suite, and I got fed up and left.”

  “Ivy is tenacious. She’s not going to stop.”

  I snarled at him, annoyed by how impressed he sounded that Ivy wouldn’t stop harassing me. “You don’t have a problem with her stalking me? What if the tables were turned and some crazy chick kept pestering you?” I snapped my fingers as I remember him in the same type of situation. “How soon you forget what happened last year with that girl from Zeta Delta Tau.

  “Thanks for bring it up.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it then puffed on it like an expert and released a plume of smoke over his head.

  Just like he knew what happened between me and Ivy the night of Dad’s funeral, I was one of the few who knew about the sticky situation he got himself into with a girl at UNLV who also happened to be the campus security director’s daughter. Blackmail had been involved regarding some naked pictures—not of the crazy chick, but of Kenji. She had taken them one night when he’d had too much to drink. Before things spiraled out of control, he found a way to solve it, but the consequences still had ripple effects a year later.

  “Looks like I’m not the only Moretti who smokes.” I set my hand on top of his, choosing to ignore his flinch. But he didn’t push me away. “I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory for you.”

  He puffed on his cigarette a few more times before he rubbed it out on the concrete. “Not enough time has gone by for it to be a bad memory.”

  “Unlike mine with Ivy?” I shifted closer to him and rested my cheek on his arm. “I can’t believe almost five years to the day, I’m sitting near a pool, reflecting on my life. Knowing my luck, Ivy will appear and want to recreate our poolside altercation.”

  He started playing with my plastic lighter. “Maybe you and she should go back to the scene of the crime and end it once and for all.”

  I snorted. If I even considered the idea, this time around my recreation would have me pushing Ivy in the pool. She wouldn’t reject me if what she said was true.

  “You think I should accept her apology and allow her back in my life?”

  He flicked the lighter once then twice. “I can’t tell you what to do.”

  I snatched the lighter away from him. He always offered advice whether I wanted it or not. Why was he playing coy now?

  “What would you do if you were in my shoes?” I asked, wondering if I should light up a cigarette just to annoy him.

  “I’ve never been tight with a person like you were with Ivy.” He lifted his thumb to his mouth. “Your great connection made me jealous. After you two fought, you were inconsolable, like you lost a body part.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” I swirled my feet in the water.

  He scratched the scruff on his chin and glanced up at the sky. “If I was as close to someone as you were with Ivy, I might give them a second chance, but with some reservations. Do you want her as a friend or something more?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed in frustration at the whine in my voice. I was looking for answers I could only give myself.

  “Want me to talk to her?”

  “No!” I shook my head, glaring at him. “I’ll figure something out.”

  He nudged me with his shoulder then rose to his feet, stretching his arms over his head as he yawned. “It’s late, so I’m going to bed. You coming?”

  “I’m going to sit here a while longer.” Even though my mind twisted in turmoil about Ivy, sitting with my feet in the water where I could actually view the stars overhead was relaxing. I would take advantage of it for as long as I could before I faced reality again.

  “Don’t be too long. The lights, with the exception of the pool, shut off at two.” Kenji contemplated the water as if he might jump in.

  “Why don’t you stay with me for a few more minutes? We don’t have to talk about my drama with Ivy.” It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he wanted to talk about Dad.

  “I’m ready to hit the sheets.” He tickled the crown of my head with the tips of his fingers. “If you’re going to stay out here, maybe I can call one of my girls—”

  I cuffed the side of his leg. “Ha ha. Go to bed. Alone.”

  He tapped my head then left, his attention on his cell while he typed on it. The only hip attachment my brother had was to his cell.

  He had been right. Ivy and I had been attached at the hip. I had been attached more to hers, but, up until the end of our junior year of high school, we saw or talked to each other every day. Even after she left for California, we kept in contact, continuing to have long phone conversations or skyping at night. But within a few months, our phone conversations became less and then it was just texts and emails. Then those became few and far between. The last time I saw her in the flesh was the day of my father’s funeral and at the repast. Then later on….

  A cramp hit the middle of my right foot. Hissing, I boosted it out of the water to rub it. My toes were pruney, along with my other foot, from keeping them in the water for too long. But I wasn’t ready to go back inside yet. I got up and lay down on one of the lounge chairs. The sound of a plane in the distance broke the silence. I snorted because it gave me a feeling of déjà vu.

  Five years ago, on a night much like this, I wore a black dress and lay in a lounge chair near a pool as a plane flew overhead. But back then I got drunk on a bottle of wine and cried because my Daddy had just died….

  The wine missed my mouth and dribbled down my chin. I didn’t care. I should probably stop drinking because my mouth was becoming numb and my head started spinning. But at least I was alive and could feel like shit if I wanted to, unlike Dad who we buried today.

  I took another chug of the red wine, this time swallowing most of the booze, although some still missed and stained the top of my dress. But the dress was black, a brand new one Mom bought me because I didn’t have any. I didn’t want to wear black because Dad liked bright colors such as red and purple. Mom always wore those colors because of him. But now she wore black. Like mother, like daughter.

  I lowered my legs to either side of the lounge chair, sprawled out with my skirt up around my stomach. Dropping the bottle in between my legs, I blinked away the haze from my eyes, now accustomed to the darkness. Other than a small light over the sliding glass doors to the house, it was dark, as it should be after midnight. The light from my parents’ bedroom—now Mom’s—had shut off. The same for my brothers’ bedrooms, although Luka had fallen asleep in front of the television. I had shut it off on my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of chianti, Dad’s favorite wine, and sit in the backyard near the in-ground pool. Dad often wanted to play a game of water volleyball. Mom would also join in after he cajoled her. He had loved the pool, always finding the time for the family even though he was so busy.

  My rubbery lips quivered as I thought back to the last time Dad had been in the pool. It was the beginning of April when he opened the pool up. It had only been us that day, a great one for father and daughter. Later, he dropped the bomb on me about his heart problem. Less than four months later, he was gone.

  Sobs burst from my mouth, and my eyes blurred. I spent most of the day crying, ending up with swollen eyes and a scratchy throat. I missed Daddy so much! Tucking my knees to my chest, I dropped my forehead
on them. Would I ever stop feeling so miserable and depressed? Why had Dad been taken away from me and his family who still needed him?

  The opening and closing of the gate made me lift my head. Out of the darkness, a figure approached.

  I kept my chin on my knees as Ivy walked forward.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked when she sat on the lounge chair next to mine.

  “I didn’t get the chance to talk to you at the repast, so I stopped by to see you. I had a feeling you’d be in the back.” She frowned once she noticed the bottle I kept on my lap. “It’s a little late to be drinking wine.”

  “Its five o’clock somewhere.” I lifted the bottle to my mouth. “Are you going to get all judgy on me for drinking? I bet you’ve had your share of booze since you’ve moved to LA.” I saluted her with the bottle and took a big swig. “I’m surprised you could break away from your busy schedule to come to my dad’s funeral.”

  She frowned harder, making her forehead wrinkle. “I’ve been here for a few days. I came to the wake, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, you stopped in yesterday. Your mom came also.” I suddenly remembered Ivy there, but she’d never spoken to me, unlike her mom who gave me hugs.

  “Why didn’t you talk to me during the wake or at the repast? You kept your distance.” I moved to the side to face Ivy, my legs bumping hers as I swung them over the edge. “Are you angry at me for some reason?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Why do you think I’m angry at you?”

  I swallowed down a burp caught in my throat, but it didn’t stop nasty acid rising there. I grimaced at my churning stomach. “You don’t return my texts or phone calls, and we haven’t skyped in months. What gives?”

  “It’s been hectic on my end with finishing up my album and planning my tour.” She lowered her gaze to her lap and fiddled with one of her rings.

  She wasn’t telling me the whole story. I did believe she was busy with her debut album, but there was more going on. She hid something. It must have to do with her musical partner in crime, Billie Layne.

  “You’re too busy to call me but still have time to hit the clubs and bars with Billie Layne?” I swung the bottle back and forth. “And don’t deny it. You two are all over the Hollywood gossip websites and entertainment magazines.”

  Ivy snagged the bottle from me and set it next to her on the concrete. She then bent forward and dropped her hands on my knees. She kept her gaze averted, which wasn’t the norm with her.

  “It’s part of my job to go out with Billie so we can get more press and build up the hype about me and my music.” She traced a circle with her thumb on the side of my leg, making me shiver in a way I couldn’t explain. “It’s for promotional purposes.”

  “Promotional purposes?” I knocked her hand away and rose, jabbing my finger at her head. “I don’t believe you.’

  She also stood, staring at my face. “You’re calling me a liar?”

  “You replaced me with Billie.”

  She jerked as if I had slapped her across the face. “What do you mean? You’re still my best—”

  “Stop!” I smacked her chest with my palm. “I’m sick of you calling me your best friend.”

  “You must be drunk because you’re not making sense.” She gave me a light shake, curling her fingers around my arms. “You don’t want me to call you my best friend?”

  “Stop playing stupid! I want to be your lover, not your friend.” I tried moving away, but she wouldn’t let me.

  Her hands locked around my arms, and her mouth opened but then closed. For once, she was speechless.

  “You had to know all these years I loved you more than a friend.” My voice started to crack, but I didn’t care. “Remember the night after your dad’s funeral when I stayed at your house to keep you company? You couldn’t go to sleep because you were crying. I got in bed with you and held you so you could sleep.” I tugged on the front of her dress, bringing her in closer. “I held you the whole night in my arms. At twelve years old, I loved you.”

  “Oh, Jade.” A glossy sheen fell over Ivy’s eyes, which made me start to tear up in turn.

  “If I asked you stay the night and hold me in my bed while I slept, would you?” I curled my hand around her neck.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, in my bed.” I drew her face toward mine. “Butt naked.”

  I smashed my mouth to hers in the sloppiest, wettest kiss imaginable. I had dreamed of this moment for years, to taste Ivy like I had wanted to for so long.

  She gasped but didn’t push me away. Instead, she opened her mouth wider and her tongue met mine. She joined in as I sucked down on her lips, twining my tongue around hers.

  “Ivy.” I smiled against her mouth and fisted my fingers in her hair as she embraced me. Her mouth pulled at mine, making me dizzy.

  I landed back on the lounge chair with her on top of me. I wrapped my arms and legs around her to keep her in place while she ran her hands through my hair and over my face. When she dropped her hand between my legs, I arched and cried out.

  “I love, you, Ivy!” I cupped her face and ate at her mouth with swipes of my tongue.

  “I-I. Stop.” She dove back and vaulted off the chair.

  I lay there, catching my breath and trying to focus. The sky whirled over my head, and the fluttering in my belly lodged deep and wide, making me lock my legs together.

  I sat up and thrust away my hair. Ivy stood with her back to me, hugging her chest and shaking her head.

  “What’s wrong?” I moved to my knees and held out my hand.

  She peered over her shoulder but didn’t sit next to me or take my hand. Even in the semi-darkness, I saw her horrified expression.

  My stomach dipped, and my chest stung. Oh please, don’t let her be disgusted by me.

  “I can’t be with you this way,” she said in an empty voice.

  “Which way?”

  She finally faced me, hugging her chest. “Kissing and touching you like we did just now. It’s a mistake.”

  Purple spots appeared in front of my eyes, and I fell down on my ass. “Mistake?”

  Something like a sob came from her mouth. She wouldn’t look at me. “I’m in love with someone else.”

  I coughed as my breath lodged in my throat. “Who?” I started to rise, but she held up her hand.

  “Please sit there. If you come at me, I won’t be able to take it and leave like the coward I am.”

  “Come at you, like hit you?” I asked.

  She bobbed her head and wiped under her eyes. “Ever since my dad died, I’ve relied on you for so much. I was greedy and wanted more from you, but I never took the extra step.” Her lips quivered, and she rubbed her forehead, her pain apparent.

  I inched down to the end of the chair to move closer to her. My heart raced, and my stomach churned. Even though it might kill me, I had to hear Ivy explain.

  “Go on,” I instructed.

  “I had to take my shot, even if it meant leaving high school and my family and…you.” She blew out a gust of air. “I had to prove I could make it on my own.” She winced and ran her palm down her chin. “You were my crutch for the longest time. But in order for me to make my dreams come true, I had to leave you behind. That’s why I welcomed new people in my life and relied on them in an entirely different way.” She stared at me, grief stricken. “It’s how I met Billie, and we—”

  “No.” I jumped up from the chair and jabbed my fingers in my palms.

  “Yes.” She spoke so low I barely heard her. “We fell in love. She’s my first.”

  “First? You mean first, as in first everything?” Tears welled in my eyes. My heart had been ripped out by Dad dying. Ivy had finished the job by stomping on it and throwing it away where I would never find it.

  She had the audacity to look dumbfounded.

  “I can’t believe you’re telling me this today of all days. You’re a selfish bitch.” I bent down for the bottle and chugged.

>   “You’re going to make yourself sick.” She reached out for the bottle and tugged on it.

  I grappled for the bottle, not caring how ridiculous I acted. “If I want to make myself sick, I can. Just like you can fuck whoever you want and not care because you’re now some big rock star diva.”

  She knocked the bottle onto the lounge chair then tried to grab my wrists, but one of my hands jerked up and hit her cheek.

  Everything moved in slow motion then. I fell on some spilled wine on the lounge chair. Ivy held her cheek, fat teardrops slipping from the corners of her eyes.

  I covered my mouth, repulsed by what I had done. Lunging off the chair, I darted to the grass near the fence and expelled everything in my stomach. Ivy rubbed my back, but I was too embarrassed by my behavior to figure out how to respond.

  Stomach still cramping, I almost asked Ivy to help me inside the house, but shame made me push her away and stumble past her.

  “Jade, let me bring you inside,” she said, although she didn’t touch me again.

  I clutched my stomach as another wave of nausea hit. “I don’t need you. Just go.”

  “But…okay.” She sounded heartbroken.

  Kenji opened the door, and I rushed to him. I sobbed in his arms, telling him what happened between me and Ivy in the backyard. When I’d wept myself out, he tucked me in bed, and did exactly like I did with Ivy after her father died—he held me while I slept into the early morning hours….

  My hangover lasted for days, or it could have been depression. I never responded to Ivy’s text or the voice mail, telling me she had returned to LA. I went so far as to change my phone number and my email address. I had cut her off.

  The flashback showed a nasty side of myself that still mortified me to this day. I had blamed Ivy for so long, but I was just as guilty. What if she’d never told me about her and Billie? What if we ended up having sex by the pool? Would I have learned about her and Billie in some tabloid or online? She’d been honest with me, and I reacted horribly.