Everything (42 page)

I slid in my chair ten minutes after Professor Harris had started his lecture, but by now, he was used to it and barely paid me any attention. At this point, what was he going to say, anyway? Kelly, on the other hand, tried to catch my eye, which I avoided at all costs.

I had just placed my phone on silent when I received an incoming text message from Justin asking again what kind of flowers to get for Aria, and it dawned on me I never did tell him last night. I replied with a smile telling him anything pink.

I put my phone away, thinking Aria would be thrilled with the flowers. I hadn’t seen her this morning or last night. I assumed she had arrived late and gone early because of the play, which she was still being super-secretive about. I took out my phone again just to check on her, to which she called me a “worry Wanda” and told me she was fine. Worry Wanda? Where does she come up with this stuff?

Putting my phone away, I focused on what was left of the class. When it was over, I made my way out through the crowd of people to turn in my final.

“I’m looking forward to it, Miss Harper. Have a great summer,” Professor Harris nodded as I handed in my final and walked out the door.

* * *

“Dacey! Wait up,” Kelly yelled.

I didn’t wait to see what she wanted. Just because I wasn’t mad at her didn’t mean I wanted to hang with her and braid each other’s hair.

I got to my other class without her catching up to me and didn’t run into her the remainder of the day. I did, however, get five more text messages from Trevor and a missed call. Man, he was pissed. The messages ranged from “I’m not going away until we talk” to “Why did you say that shit to Kel?” They were on to nicknames, great. The last one I deleted was his personal best: “don’t fuck this up 4 me because u can’t let go.”

Wow, he actually went there. When I thought earlier that I couldn’t hate him and I was never going to move on because he had a piece of my heart, I was wrong. Turns out, hate is a strong-ass motivator for getting over someone and getting your heart back. And Trevor was shoveling pieces of it back to me with each hateful text message and phone call I received. It showed me he really didn’t mean the “I love you’s” he said the whole year and a half we were together.

By the time I got home, I was so pissed off and ready to hit something—anything with a face remotely looking like Trevor’s would do—that I went inside to find something to do to burn off some steam. I hadn’t been in Mom and Dad’s room since my mini-hiatus in there, and I knew it needed to be cleaned, so I went in and stripped the sheets from the bedding and the pillowcases and threw it all in the washing machine. Then I got the vacuum and the duster and got to work on the furniture and the floor. I became so involved in what I was doing, I didn’t even notice the time. When I heard the doorbell, I looked up and saw it was exactly six fifteen.

“Shit,” I said as I was putting away the vacuum cleaner.

“Hey, come on in,” I said, opening the door for Justin, who was wearing his normal snug fitted jeans with boots, but instead of a band tee, he wore a fitted collared shirt, and his muscles bulged from the sleeves. Seriously, did he not own bigger shirts? Not that I minded.

“Okay, I’m seriously overdressed,” he said, noting my now-dirty clothes and messy hair.

“I’m sorry. I was cleaning out my parents’ room and lost track of time. Ten minutes?” I asked, chastising myself for loosing track of time.

“Sure, SB, but you’d better hurry. I’m sure Aria will be upset if you’re not there.” He chuckled.

I ran to my room, took a quick shower, and threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a layered, fitted V-neck tee with some flats and earrings Mom got me last year for my birthday. I was ready in ten minutes and met Justin in the living room.

“You weren’t kidding when you said ten minutes.”

“I had a dry run this morning,” I said, then began to tell him about my morning as we headed out the door. I stopped dead in my tracks as I eyed the car in the driveway.

“Is that what we are driving?” I asked, awed.

He smiled proudly, “Yes, you like?”

“Is this yours?” I asked, going over to the 1969 black Pontiac GTO that my dad would have drooled over.

“Yes. It belonged to my father, and I restored it.” He opened the door for me, and I got in.

“I thought the cruiser was your car,” I asked stupidly.

“It is, for work and other things. But this is my car. My baby.” He rubbed the steering wheel. “I didn’t know you liked cars,” he said, eyeing me sideways.

“I don’t, actually. My father owns—well, I guess
I
own—a mechanic shop. Has all my life. Sometimes just to get him to talk to me, I would talk about cars, then I just stopped trying after awhile and, well...” I trailed off, not wanting to remember those days.

“Yeah, you mentioned he owned a shop when you were telling me about the will, but you never mentioned what kind.”

“He lived and breathed cars for twentysomething years, and this car...” I paused. “What are the chances you have his favorite car,” I said, chuckling to myself at how life seemed to work.

“That is what’s called fate.”

“My mom would have called it serendipity,” I mused.

“It’s that too,” he said as he pulled out of the driveway. “Where am I going?”

I gave him directions to the college, and we talked a little on the way there. I told him about the messages from Trevor, and his knuckles gripped the steering wheel tighter but he didn’t say anything. Then I told him that Mr. Eugene wanted to take us out to eat after Aria’s play and he was welcome to come along if he didn’t have any plans.

“Now, why would I turn down free food?” he joked forcefully.

“Good point.” I laughed.

Once we got in the parking lot of the college, I directed him to park in the visitors’ section of the auditorium, and we got out and made our way in. My phone buzzed as soon as I walked in the door with a message from Aria, telling me that the tickets were with the man at the door and her reserved section was C.

I looked up to find her and saw her peeking from behind the curtain. She gave me a nervous wave and closed the curtain back.
 

I went over to the guy sitting at the door with a metal box and a sheet of paper with names on it. I told him we were family and gave him Aria’s name, and he handed me seven tickets and pointed me in the direction of section C. As we made our way over to the section, a familiar form blocked my path and I froze.

“Dacey, we need to talk,” Trevor said, looking determined.

I thought seeing him again would be like a blow to the chest, taking my breath away, and that the feeling in my stomach would make me want to crawl back in my cave again and cry. But after the realization today, I felt none of that. Yes, there was a twinge because Trevor was familiar, but he no longer held my heart.

“I think it’s pretty obvious I
don’t
need to talk to you, Trevor,” I said, trying to sidestep him, but he matched my movements.

“Dude, watch it,” Justin said from behind me, and I felt the heat radiating off his body. He was ready to pounce on Trevor, that much was apparent.

Trevor’s eyes flicked up momentarily at JP and back to me. “You again. What’s up with the police escort?” he asked mockingly.

“Apparently, assholes like to stalk me,” I shot back.

“I’m not stalking you. You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.”

“I don’t have to anymore. Didn’t you get the memo?
You
wrote it.”

He closed his eyes as if trying to get patience, then said, “Why did you say all that stuff to Kel?”

Don’t sound like the jealous ex, don’t sound like the jealous ex, I kept telling myself. “Because ‘Kel’ should know what a dick you are,” I said.

His eyes flashed with anger, and within a millisecond, Justin placed himself in between us.

“Look, rent-a-cop, this has nothing to do with you. I came to talk to Dacey, not some RoboCop wanna be,” Trevor said to Justin.

“Call me what you want. I’m still a better man than you will ever be,” Justin said calmly.

“You’re a better man because you’re a cop?”

“No, I’m a better man because I would’ve cherished the hell out of her, not used her until you were sure you weren’t in love, then left her when she needed you the most, you sorry fuck,” he growled.

Trevor looked over Justin’s shoulder at me. “You told him?” he asked, incredulous.

“Was it a secret?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Some things should be kept between a—”

“A what, Trevor? A guy and his dumpee? I don’t think so,” I cut him off. “Look, I said what I said, and I’m not taking it back, and I’m not sorry for it, just like you’re not sorry for what you said, just how it went down. So please move,” I said firmly.

He contemplated for a minute, then moved to the side, and Justin moved so could I walk by. I was walking past Trevor when he grabbed my forearm to stop me, causing Justin to grab Trevor’s free arm and twist it up behind his back.

“Don’t fucking touch her. You lost your right to touch her. Ever,” he said, his mouth to Trevor’s ear.

It wasn’t crowded enough yet in the auditorium to cause a scene, but the few people who were in there were starting to look over.

“Ah! Dude, let me go. I was just going to tell her sorry.” Trevor struggled against Justin after immediately dropping my forearm.

“JP, let him go,” I hissed.

Justin shoved him away and gave him a hard look before he turned his gaze to me and asked with a softening tone, “Did that asshole hurt you?” He lifted my arm where Trevor had grabbed it.

Honestly, I hadn’t even felt when Trevor had grabbed me, and Justin’s reaction to it freaked me out more than the whole situation.

“I’m fine. I barely felt it. Let’s just go sit down.” I motioned for Trevor to move, which he had the self-preservation to do, and I shoved Justin forward into section C and found a seat, leaving Trevor in the aisle looking shocked and rubbing his shoulder. I didn’t say a word to Justin for about two minutes because, frankly, I didn’t know what the hell just happened. What was I supposed to say to that? Thank you for defending my honor and almost breaking my ex-boyfriend’s arm off for touching me? It did seem kind of extreme, but then again, he is a cop, so maybe he saw a threat that I didn’t see with my untrained eye.

“SB, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you again. My instincts kicked in,” he said remorseful.

Instincts. His cop’s instincts or when he hinted at his not-so-reformed bad boy ones?

“I told you, Trevor would never physically hurt me, JP.”

“I reacted. I’ll apologize to him,” he offered.

“Let’s not get crazy. I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy the look on his face when you had his hand behind his back like that,” I smirked, letting him know he was off the hook. His story was for another day, I decided. Tonight was about Aria.

He seemed to understand and smiled appreciatively at me as we watched the auditorium fill with people. Mr. Eugene and Aunt Opal arrived, followed by Tina and Mrs. D.

“Hello, hottie Officer Parks,” Tina whispered not so softly, sitting next to me.

“You know your inside voice is the same as your outside voice, right?” I whispered back.

“Who knew he got even hotter since the last time I saw him?” she actually whispered this time.

I simply shrugged as my reply.

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. How could you have not totally hit that already?” She did not whisper.

“Justina Delgado!” Mrs. D chastised, having overheard that last part.

Justin took this opportunity to introduce himself. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Justin Parks, a friend of Dacey’s. It’s nice to meet you.” He kissed the back of her hand, causing her to blush and Tina to roll her eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Parks,” Mrs. D said, smiling.

“It’s
Officer
Parks, actually,
mami.
He’s a cop,” Tina corrected.

“Oh, what division?”

“Highway patrol, ma’am, but I’m off duty tonight, so you can actually just call me Justin, please,” he said.

She nodded, then turned back to talk more to Opal and Mr. Eugene. I turned to Tina and filled her in on Opal’s condition and also told her about what I said to Kelly and Trevor’s message and the ultimate confrontation, although I left out the part about Justin jacking Trevor up even though Tina would have loved it.

“Damn, go back to Miami for a few weeks, and shit go cray cray,” she mused.

“Pretty much. Maybe you should move back,” I joked hopefully.

“Tempting, but then who would solve all the awesome CIS-type murders and look fabulous while doing it in Miami?” she teased.

We laughed and were about to go into a bad rendition of David Caruso jokes when Riley slid into his seat and the lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of the show. Silently, I was saddened that my parents couldn’t be here to witness something so special to Aria, and I knew that backstage she was thinking of them too. Even after all the good news and the tiny triumphs we have been through, I felt a tear slide down my face for my parents who I knew were somewhere watching.

“Here,” JP handed me a tissue.

“Thanks, I hope you have more. I have a feeling I’ll need more tonight,” I said.

“I have a pocketful.” He looked over and smiled at me.
 

The lights dimmed more, and the curtains went up on
The Frost.

Chapter 21

If Mom had been alive to see
The Frost
, I’m sure this would have been the highlight of her year. In all, they did five scenes, or poems, to be technical. One, “A Minor Bird,” I recognized from Mom’s book. In the scene, a guy was trying to escape the melody of a song. Another I didn’t recognize about forgotten news. Another scene was where the stage went to black and a voice asked a question about the soul and the body. And then there was “The Road Not Taken,” where there was a girl onstage and two paths in front of her that led offstage to paths unknown, and she recited the poem so beautifully and then chose her road, and the road not traveled was then illuminated to show a giant question mark.