The Girl of Diamonds and Rust (The Half Shell Series Book 3) (7 page)

Neil’s smile is boyish and sweet. “We leave Berkeley tomorrow and I want to eat here, Chrissie. It’s where we had our first date four years ago.”

Distress overwhelms me, and I fight to maintain my outward composure.

“I thought you said that wasn’t a date.”

Neil’s eyes lock on mine. “It was to me.”

I step rapidly ahead of him into the restaurant. My heart clenches even as the blood pumps faster through my veins. The way Neil looks at me is an overwhelming thing. I can see it in his eyes; he is in love me and he thinks we’re going to be together again. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to try to make a go of it with Neil a second time, even though we’ve been really good together this past month. I probably shouldn’t have let him move back into the bedroom. Oh well, it’s not like we have sex, but even without the sex, things with Neil are as confusing as ever.

I just seem to be making more mess in my life. We live together, but we are
not
together. Same old, same old. That’s our status and somehow it just sort of happened on its own. Easy and wrong. I never seem to be able to do the right thing with Neil. In my head I know what the right thing is. My mouth and my body refuse to cooperate.

Are we together again? It feels like we are, but I’m not sure. How can a girl not be sure about something like this?

Maybe it’s just because he’s such an incredible guy and it’s impossible not to like him. And a girl would have to be dead not to get turned on by Neil.

I give him a fast once-over out of the corner of my eye, smiling at the way his gaze rapidly searches the case trying to find something he’s willing to eat here. He is gorgeous in every way, inside and out.

I plant my arms on the top of the display case and try to decide what to order. Slim pickings. Not even sandwiches. There’s hardly any food here.

“Do you know what you want, Chrissie?”

I shake my head. Nothing looks good.

Neil frowns at the sparse assortment and says, “Well, this might be a bust for our last date in Berkeley. There’s not much of a selection today.”

“We’re shutting down early this afternoon,” the waitress answers from her side of the counter. “Not much business with finals and students moving off campus this week.”

“Yep, campus is pretty dead,” Neil replies, continuing to stare into the cabinet. “OK, Chrissie, they’ve got vegan carrot cake, vegan brownie, and vegan…strudel?”

I roll my eyes. “That’s apple popover not strudel.”

He shakes his head. “Really? It doesn’t look like it.”

“She’s right,” the waitress announces.

“I was kind of in the mood for strudel.” Neil rubs his chin with his long fingers. “Are you sure?”

The waitress laughs. “I’m sure.”

“Crap.” He frowns. “Carrot cake or brownie, Chrissie? I’m not really hot on either.”

“Whatever you want is fine. Or we could just go somewhere else, Neil.”

Neil looks up. “Not a chance. We’re having our last coffee together in Berkeley here.”

He leans in, lightly kisses me, and is smiling as he turns back to the clerk waiting for our order. The waitress’s eyes widen and her expression changes, sparkly and astonished.

“I know you,” she says in a stunned way.

Neil shrugs, dropping his gaze back toward the case. “You should. We’ve been coming in here four years. I think we want the carrot cake.”

“No,” she corrects with more enthusiasm. “I saw you at Sleep Train. You’re that singer from Arctic Hole, aren’t you? You’re him. ”

I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.
Him
. There is something about the way she says that and Neil’s reaction to it that is so amusing.

Then I note that Neil is not amused. He doesn’t look up at the waitress and he gives every appearance of a guy who wants to drop through the floor.

The clerk frowns and I realize I am frowning too since calm, smiling Neil is anything but calm and smiling. He’s pulsing with uneasiness.

The girl plants her crossed arms on the counter and stares down at Neil. “What? Don’t you like being recognized? If you don’t want to be famous why are you in a band?”

Neil shakes his head. “It’s about the music. Nothing else. Recognize me. Don’t recognize me. I don’t really care, except today I’m kind of annoyed. I just want to have some coffee with my girlfriend.”

She grabs some pastry tissue, and instead of being offended by Neil’s comment, she nods approvingly. “That’s why you’re so cool. You don’t give a shit about the hype. Your music is genius. Not like the shit they play on the radio.”

“Thanks,” Neil says, but his voice is clipped, strained.

“Are you in Berkeley for a concert or something? I’d really love to see you live again.”

“Nope, just visiting home for a while,” he says, and abruptly changes the conversation and orders two coffees and a slice of cake.

The girl sets our drinks on the counter. “I can’t believe you live in Berkeley. My roommate is going to flip when I tell her you came in here today.”

Neil reaches for his wallet, and the waitress waves him off when he goes to pay. After thanking her, Neil grabs our coffees while I take our cake and move quickly ahead of him to open the door.

We settle at a table on the patio and I rip open my packets of raw sugar. “It was kind of sweet that that girl recognized you and didn’t make you pay. Why did you get all jumpy?”

Neil leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. It makes me uncomfortable. I guess I’m not used to it yet. It’s just weird, you know? Perfect strangers thinking they know you. People you don’t know buying you shit. It’s weird.”

I stir my coffee. “How long has this been happening? People recognizing you on the street?”

Neil shrugs. “It doesn’t happen very often. Four months maybe. Since the last album released.”

“You have a song on the charts. It was bound to start happening. There are worst things than being recognized, Neil. It means people are starting to notice the music. It’s a good thing.”

“It’s bullshit, Chrissie. Bullshit. You know that. Who gives a fuck if anyone knows who I am?”

“I do.” I make a sweet pout across the table. “You’ve worked hard. I’m proud of
you
. And you better get used to it because the new album is amazing.” I shake my head, stirring my coffee. “Boy, you looked awkward in there.” I laugh. “But you are very cute when you are being shy and humble. Not at all like the conceited jerk I live with.”

I’m smiling when I look back up at Neil, but my face falls and my heart stills. Why is he angry with me?

“Is that what we’re doing? Living together? When I called you my girlfriend back there you got all tense and shit. And you still haven’t told me if you’re coming to Seattle with me.”

My scalp prickles as heat covers my flesh. Oh shit, what made me say that last part—
jerk I live with?
Not smart, Chrissie. Not smart.

I focus on my fork as I cut into the slice of cake we’re sharing. “I don’t know what we’re doing, Neil. I’m not there yet. And I can’t think about Seattle yet.”

Neil leans back in his chair, his eyes intense. “I leave tomorrow. You had better figure out what you want soon, Chrissie.”

Oh God
. How did we get from having coffee together to talking about
us
again? I’m not even close to having a reasonable response to that, but the thought of Neil leaving in the morning makes my insides collapse.

Tilting back his head, Neil finishes his coffee in one long swallow, then collects the trash from our table and throws it away.

He stands beside the table, and I don’t rise.

Finally, he says, “We’re good together, Chrissie. That should tell you everything you need to know about us. What more do you need from a guy?”

There’s an edge of hurt to Neil’s voice that cuts at my heart, and I stare down at my coffee.

“I don’t know.”

He crouches down until he’s at eye level with me. “I love you. What more do you need to know?”

I look away, fixing my vision on a vacant space across the food court. I grow more rattled each time he says
I love you
to me and more panicked each time I think about him leaving. What a stupid contradiction of reactions. They make no sense. No wonder I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do about Neil and me.

He cups my face with his palms. “We’re doing good, Chrissie. Don’t fuck us up a second time over Alan Manzone. We’re perfect together. You know it. Just let me love you.”

His voice is breathy. Ragged. Intense.

The last thing I was prepared for was a plea from Neil not to end us delivered in front of our stupid, hippie vegan restaurant. Is that why he brought me here? To push me for a decision away from the condo, away from Rene?

I suddenly feel frazzled and disoriented. “Please, can we not do this now?”

He holds me against him, his body molding into me, his arms holding me close. It feels so good against his body. It would be easy to go with the flow and just be with Neil.

He whispers, “He will never need you the way I need you. He will never want you as I want you. He will never love you the way I love you. I don’t care if you are in love with Alan. I’m in love with you. Don’t go to Santa Barbara. Come to Seattle with me.”

I feel his lips move along the side of my neck in light kisses and touches, and my body begins to ease into the contact, wanting it, even though I order myself not to.

It is too soon to think about trying again with Neil. Too soon to think about my life. Too soon to think about anything. April wasn’t that long ago. I’m not over it yet, and there are too many parts of me trapped in the past, mourning and hurting.

“It’s all happening too fast, Neil. I can’t think. I need time.”

“Fast? We’ve been together four years. Come to Seattle with me. Who says we’ve got to figure out everything today? Say fuck it to everything. Leave Berkeley and all the shit behind. I think it would be good for you to go out on the road with me for a while. You don’t have to stay on tour with me. You can leave if it’s not good. Just come with me. You don’t have to decide anything. I just want you with me.”

His impatience presses in on my already overly raw nerves. “I can’t give you an answer. Not today.”

Neil runs a hand through his hair, angry. “Fuck, Chrissie, I can’t stay any longer and I don’t want to leave without you. What are you going to do? Go back to Santa Barbara and wait around for some asshole who won’t ever call you? Is that your plan?”

The earth falls away beneath me.
That was mean, Neil. So mean.

“I don’t have a plan,” I say into Neil’s acutely waiting silence.

After what seems like a monumental amount of time, he says, “You’re coming to Seattle with me, Chrissie. You won’t let me walk out that door without you. You just don’t know it yet.”

I frown, trying to process his words. He sounds so certain. But even I don’t know yet what I’m going to do at that moment when life forces me to choose right or left; the moment we either part again or stay together.

“Don’t force me to make decisions about us. I’m not there yet.”

He brushes my tense cheek with his thumb. “Then don’t make a decision. Don’t make a plan. Don’t think. Just come to Seattle with me, Chrissie.”

He says it as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Don’t think. Just come. Is life really that simple for Neil?

He straightens up and holds out his hand to me. “Come on. We should get home. You’ve still got packing to do.”

I’m silent as we walk back to the condo. If Neil is irritated with me, it doesn’t show. In fact he looks sort of happy. He’s smiling, though there is nothing about our discussion that should make Neil smile. But then he rarely gets angry and his temper always cools fast. He can’t stay angry. He’s uncomfortable being hurtful. And even though he sometimes gives me a nudge here and there, he doesn’t push hard, not like Alan. Neil is the exact opposite of Alan.

It’s a short walk to the complex. In only a few minutes we’re in the elevator, Neil leaning against one mirrored wall and me against another.

I slant a look at him and some of my anxiousness wanes. He doesn’t seem the slightest bit distressed and doesn’t have the look of someone who intends any more weighty discussions today. He’s just sort of there, letting me be.

The doors open and he has my hand again. Outside our door, he fishes in his pocket, and removes his key chain. I can feel my eyes widen as I watch him unlock the door. I hadn’t noticed before now that Neil still had a key to my place, that I had forgotten to ask for it back when we broke up in December. Strange, but I didn’t even think of taking back my key.

Inside the condo I freeze. The condo looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane. We were only gone for four hours and it doesn’t even look like home anymore. Tall moving boxes sealed with black—or
pink?
—tape make it nearly impossible to get across the living room. In giant letters names have been written on the cardboard.
Rene. Rene. Rene. Chrissie
…shit, she started packing my things, too. 

I rapidly notice the rest of the room. The pictures are gone from the walls. The books from the shelves. The CDs and albums. All the stupid clutter Rene and I accumulated in four years here, gone.

The music is blasting, and my anxious gaze floats through the room, but I don’t see Rene. How the heck did she do this in four hours? Jeez, I knew we had to finish packing today, but I didn’t expect it look like this and I definitely didn’t expect it to plunge my emotions into free-fall again.

My brain can’t keep up with what’s happening here. Neil makes a low whistle, pulling me from my stupor. “Someone is eager to get out of Berkeley,” he says, amused and jeering. He looks at some boxes, pausing at one with his name written on it. “She might have let us pack up our own shit, don’t you think?”

“Rene? Are you here?” I call out.

The music switches off and Rene comes bouncing from the kitchen. She’s dressed in short-short cutoff overalls and a tube top, her black hair pushed back from her face in a pink bandana. Perspiration speckles her rich olive skin.

She smiles, brushing at a wayward curl with a forearm. “I’ve packed all the kitchen things and marked them to go to LA for my new apartment, like you said I could.” She stares down at something in her hand. “Do you want this or can I keep it?”