Volition (10 page)

“Come with me.”

I pulled him up the stairs and past Mae, so neither of them had a choice. I wasn’t wearing proper dining attire, and neither was Jesse. In fact, I was pretty sure that neither my grandmother nor grandfather had ever actually seen Jesse since they hired him to do landscape work.

He let go of my hand and stopped walking behind me.

His eyes told me he couldn’t do this, and he wouldn’t. Mine told him that I needed him here with me, or I wasn’t going at all. If he weren’t there with me, I would probably put a fork through Lara’s face.

After a few seconds, he relented, and I knew he would follow me to the ends of the earth if that were where I walked. I didn’t understand what was between us, considering I barely even knew him as an adult even though we’d spent pieces of the summer together. Just sharing space once in a while seemed to be enough.

“Tate, you’re late,” Lara spit her words out at me.

She hadn’t learned that she couldn’t hurt me, even with her verbal spikes. She could make the most innocent phrase sound like it was coming from Satan’s mouth.

“I am,” I told her. “I’ve brought a friend. Happy birthday to me.”

It was
my
birthday dinner, yet I shouldn’t have to be here. I hated the fact that I was using Jesse to hurt Lara and that I was hurting Jesse by making him my pawn, but I really did need him there with me. I needed him to understand this piece of the puzzle that was my life.

“The table is only set for four,” she announced.

That was true. It was set for me, Julian, Cece, and Lara.

Jesse threw me a helpless look, and I gave him one that told him I would kill him if he left.

I left him in there with the wolves while I went into the adjacent room that connected the dining room with the kitchen.
The slaves’ entry
, Lara called it. Lara never learned that wasn’t politically correct.

I dragged another chair loudly across the floor until it was right next to Jesse. He reluctantly sat down, and I followed suit.

Mae entered with a water pitcher, and I knew she thought I was crazy for bringing Jesse into Lara’s den. I would do anything I had to in order to protect Jesse, but I needed him here with me. I couldn’t stand to be in her presence without the strength that came from him, not after the vase incident early on in the summer.

Mae set a place setting in front of Jesse, and he thanked her. Lara was still staring at us, and I was smug to be the black mark on this day even if it was my birthday. I was eighteen, and I would finally be allowed to do what I wanted instead of answering to her.

Cece shot me a nervous look and twisted her napkin in her lap while Julian looked disinterested. He’d brought the paper to the table, which no doubt meant he wasn’t interested in Lara’s shenanigans. Sometimes, I wished he would save me, but he didn’t care enough.

We all sat in silence until Mae brought in the first course of salad with apples and bleu cheese.

“Tate,” Cece said, breaking through the tension, “I heard James Landau is back from studying in Prague. He’s been asking about you.”

Of course James Landau had been asking about me. Even if he hadn’t, Cece was saying it just for Jesse’s benefit. Lara’s smug smile told me that Cece was merely her mouthpiece, and although Cece had no idea that what she was saying had multiple implications, I had never been so spiteful toward my sister in my life.

“I don’t care about James Lindau.”

“It’s
Landau
, Tate,” Lara corrected me as she gave me a warning look.

I felt Jesse react next to me as if the air around him was giving off secret vibrations that only I could interpret.

“I don’t care. I have a boyfriend.”

Cece nodded at Jesse. “Oh, I wasn’t aware the two of you were dating.”

“We’re not,” I said flatly.

I crunched an apple piece in my mouth just to annoy Lara. It worked because I saw her start to chew on her lip.

“I’m dating Casper Van Damme.”

Lara gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth as if I’d just said I was dating the devil—although I might as well be. Casper’s escapades were well known among the parents of our school because of the regular bulletins that were sent out regarding various rules he’d broken or physical damage he’d done to school property—most recently, the library. Lara just assumed that no one was allowed to stay at school during the summer, but Catherine was. She didn’t go back to the suburbs outside of Charleston to be with her stricter-than-most parents. She stayed at school. So did everyone else who wasn’t Casper or Colin or me.

I felt Jesse’s desire to leave, but I knew he wouldn’t walk out on me. I would explain it all to him later. I knew he resented Casper, and I thought it was because Casper possessed me, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was just flattering myself at the thought that Jesse cared about me that way.

The next sentence flew out of my mouth before I could stop it because I knew it would sting Lara the most. What I didn’t realize was that it would also mortally wound Jesse.

“Yes, I lost my virginity to Casper Van Damme. Try putting that on my cotillion card.”

Five mouths dropped open, including Mae’s. She was serving Lara soup, and it was now dripping all over the wood floor that had just been refinished due to the glass scratches from the shattered vases.

With that, I shoved my chair back on the floor, scraping it so much that my ears could barely stand the squeal.

My head was spinning, and my body felt like I wasn’t in control of it. My limbs were buzzing, and my heart burned with hate.

I wanted the money my parents left me, and I wanted to get out of here. I had one more year left of school, and then I would be free to do what I wanted with my life instead of being trapped here in a houseful of people who thought I was some kind of witch. I could barely remember a time when Lara brushed my hair like she did Cece’s, but the wild part of me that was my father was etched too deeply into my soul. All I had of Maggie was my hair. The rest of me was too dark, too unsettling for Lara, and her disdain made me into the entity she projected me to be. I half-wondered whether I would be this person if Lara had decided to love me.

I needed Denny and Maggie.

I ran as fast as I could to the cemetery on the edge of the property, and instead of bothering to open the gate, I simply jumped it. I scratched my leg on one of the pegs, and blood ran down my leg, but I didn’t care. Let it mix with the dirt.

“It’s my birthday,” I whispered once I was sitting in between Maggie’s and Denny’s headstones.

I was eternally grateful that they weren’t so far apart now, and I could almost feel Denny’s satisfaction. It registered how disturbing I was that I tried to dig up my own father to move his remains, but that was who I was. Jesse was just as bad for helping me.

I lay back in the dirt in between my parents, and I imagined this was how children would lay in a bed between their mother and father when they had a bad dream at night—at least, any child that wasn’t me. I almost laughed because this perverted sense of family fit me perfectly. Tate McKenna, daughter of death.

My heart calmed when I felt him near me. It was like the strings that pulled us together tightened, and I lifted my head off the ground. He sat down next to me, closer to his old pal Denny than Maggie. He didn’t say anything. He just offered me one of the headphones he was holding. The other was already strung up in his ear.

I put it in the ear closest to him, and I let myself fall back against the cushion of soft earth. Florence was singing my favorite song, and I couldn’t help but hum along to the words. I looked over at Jesse when the song was ending, and his eyes were closed.

Silence buzzed around us.

“Replay it,” I said, telling, not asking.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He referred to the silence as he quoted the song and handed me a rock from his pocket.

“What’s the
overflow
?”

“I think you know.”

My heart clenched, and I felt like I might be sick because I did know. This was the first time either of us had acknowledged it.

He opened his eyes and looked over at me, and they told me we were thinking the same thing. The strings tightened one more time, and it felt like even more of them appeared, clawing at my stomach and my chest, pulling me inexorably toward Jesse to the point where it was painful.

“Happy birthday, Tate.”

With those words, my fate was sealed, and I got the dizzying sensation that as long as both of our hearts were still beating, I would never be free of him.

Now

I’LL LIKELY HAVE a heart attack in the next hour.

Cold, calculated Tate seems to have completely left my body, and I want her back. I want to clutch at the air pulling that part of my soul out and push it back into me, so I can survive dinner with Hayden.

We slip out of the car as Al holds the door, and he promises he’ll be back when we need him. I decide that even if I had Al, I would still take the subway, so I could see all the performers and rats. I like the subway. It never stops running, and it’s just dingy enough to show character.

Success—that’s all the people on the subway want. They want to be riding in cars like Hayden’s with drivers like Al, so they never have to swipe that godforsaken MetroCard ever again.

Hayden’s hand covers mine and pulls me into the restaurant. We’re immediately seated, and I’m glad he’s chosen someplace where our casual clothes fit the mix. I half-expected everyone to stare at Hayden over their chopsticks and wine glasses, but I am pleasantly surprised we aren’t the center of attention. New York has a brilliant atmosphere so unlike anywhere else in the world in that respect. If we were in Los Angeles, there would no doubt be paparazzi lined up along the glass windows, trying to snap us with their vile lenses. Here, everyone is too demure to be invasive.

He passes me a menu.

I put it down on the table and look him square in the eye. “I have to tell you something.”

“So, shoot.”

He intimidates me because all his attention is on me. People don’t do that nowadays. They multitask. They talk to you while they’re fidgeting with their napkin or reading the menu.

They give you half.

Hayden gives me whole.

“I’m allergic to shellfish.”

The corner of his lip goes up, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

“Really? A Southern girl who’s allergic to shellfish?” His words are dripping in something that sounds a lot like sarcasm, but they’re also laced with something darker.

I try to keep my composure. “Yes.”

A waitress comes by and does a double take when she sees Hayden, but she keeps her face neutral in line with my New York theory.

“Can I get you anything?” she asks, unable to take her eyes off of Hayden.

It’s understandable. She’s trying to be polite, but he’s essentially an American royal.

“Tell Tom I’ll take the usual,” he says. “Two actually.”

The waitress dips her head in acknowledgment and takes our menus.

“Actually, Meredith,” I say, reading her name tag, “I’ll take a seaweed salad.”

I release the menu from my fingers and shoot a look at Hayden. As she walks away, I observe her like any man would. She’s pretty. New York pretty I decide. There are hardly any blondes in New York.

“I’m calling your bluff.” Hayden has that look in his eyes that I’m fairly sure would seduce ninety-nine percent of the women in this city.

Meredith comes back with our food immediately.

“Rockefeller perk?” I ask.

He thanks Meredith and unwraps his chopsticks. “Rockefeller perk.”

He doesn’t look too hung up on the fact that this specific perk means that our sushi has arrived in record time.

“I’ll be right back with your salad,” Meredith tells me, but she’s looking at Hayden.

I roll my eyes because I know I’m being a brat. I don’t need that seaweed salad, but I let her get it anyway. I pull out my own chopsticks and take a bite of whatever this is that he’s ordered.

When I look up from my bite, he’s just staring at me.

“What?”

“You lied to me,” he says mock-seriously, putting together a bite of his own. “You lied to me on our first date. I’ll have to remember that.”

“This is a date?” My heart is in my throat, and I curse cold Tate for leaving me alone in this. I’m far less charming when I’m bratty.

“It’s a date to me.”

I try to think of something witty, so I take a sip of the white wine Meredith has just brought me without either of us ordering it.

“I’m sure you go on lots of dates.”

He takes another bite. “Not really.”

“That can’t be true.”

“I’m not the liar at this table.”

My seaweed salad shows up as if to mock me. Meredith slides my plate over to the side, so she can set it down, and I roll my eyes at Hayden, who can’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry,” I say. This must be a record. Tate McKenna doesn’t apologize. “I don’t want to feed your ego by telling you that you’re disarming.”

“But I am?” The inclination of a question in his voice surprises me.

He puts down the chopsticks and is simply staring at me. The stare goes too far. It makes me feel too many things. Not as far as Jesse, but it comes close.