CHAPTER 17
EVE
Three months later
I finally finished my last midterm exam—Spring break has officially begun. I’m not planning on leaving campus, though. This is my home now. Vincent and I have been amazing. Ever since we got together, we’ve spent almost every night downtown in SoHo at his apartment. He brings me with him twice a week to work out, too. It turns out I love mixed martial arts, and I’m pretty good at it. His trainer, Sergey, is awesome, and I’ve already gotten much stronger.
The only times we’re separated are when we’re in class, or if he has family business to attend. I know he sneaks moments in with Daniela for the camera, but I try to pretend those times don’t exist. I’ve even gotten off social media. Watching them together, even if it’s fake, is too much for me to handle.
Janelle is over tonight, celebrating the end of midterms. We’re planning on hanging out in my dorm first, and maybe going out to a bar later. We haven’t seen each other as much as we wish we did, but the truth is that between school and sneaking around with Vincent, my time is limited. I know eventually I need to fess up and tell her about what’s going on. But I want to push that conversation as far into the future as I can. She just wouldn’t understand, and I’m worried about losing her. Her threats still hang heavy in my heart.
Tonight, we’re playing some Drake on her phone and drinking wine when I hear a knock.
I open the door to see Claire decked out in a tight black dress and black ankle booties. Her hand is wrapped around a magnum of wine.
“Eve,” she squeals, hugging me with her free hand.
“Hey, babe!” I’m surprised but excited to see her.
“I’ve been texting you nonstop and you weren’t answering, so I figured I’d just stop over.”
She walks into my room, eyes widening at my sister. “Tell me you’re Janelle.” She drops the wine bottle on the table and then throws her arms around Janelle as if they’ve known each other forever.
They both laugh. “That’s me. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh my God, I love your hair!” Claire starts.
“You’ve gotta come by my salon and let me highlight you.” Janelle puts her hands through Claire’s locks in that expert way, lifting up different pieces and analyzing her color.
“Yes! I want to go blonder. Maybe a few lighter pieces around my face, you know?”
“Absolutely. I can do it for you. Call the salon at Bergdorf.”
“How amazing that you work there? When Eve told me, I freaked. Do you do all the celebs and stuff?”
“Yeah, I do a lot of them actually.”
Claire turns to me as she takes her jacket off. “Get dressed, ladies. We’re going to a club tonight.”
“Wait, what?” I ask.
“You heard me.” She pulls out a wine opener from her huge purse and proceeds to uncork the bottle. “We’ve all been studying like crazy, and finals are now over, so you have no excuse. We’re going out to celebrate—everyone is going. See this outfit?” She stands tall, gesturing to herself. “I’ve got to be seen!” She pulls out the cork and reaches into her bag, taking out a plastic wine glass.
I laugh out loud. “Tell me there’s a puppy in your bag, and I’ll consider it.”
“There’s a horse in here, not a puppy!” We all laugh.
“We gotta get dressed if we’re goin’ out!” Janelle says excitedly. She moves to my closet, searching for clothes when she takes out a black halter-top that I conveniently took from her side of the closet before we moved out. “You little bitch!” she exclaims. “I was searching for this top everywhere!” She pulls off her T-shirt and slides it on.
I’m watching Janelle flit around getting herself glamorous, while Claire pours herself wine and kicks off her shoes. All of a sudden, they seem to realize that I’m not getting dressed.
In a blink, they huddle around me like I’m Cinderella, forcing on different outfits until they decide on a tight red dress, also conveniently taken by me from Janelle’s side of the closet. I want to argue that I don’t want to wear something so flashy, but another part of me wants to experiment, too.
Janelle immediately gets to work on my hair and makeup while Claire tops off my wine. When she’s done, I stare in the mirror, stunned. I still look like me, but much older and a hell of a lot sexier. I’m bronzed, highlighted, and my lips are lined and filled to perfection.
Claire chokes on her wine. “You are a genius, Janelle. I mean, Eve is beautiful. But this takes her to a whole other level.” Claire turns back to me. “You’re definitely hooking up tonight!”
Claire’s phone pings and she stares down to read the text. “It’s Tom. He’s also going to be at the club!”
“I guess we’re clubbing tonight,” Janelle says happily in a singsong voice, flipping her hair a few times. “Who’s Tom?”
“He’s a guy I used to hook up with. Oh shit.” Claire nervously puts her fingers to her lips. “I wonder if Vincent is coming.”
Janelle squints her eyes and my heart pounds.
“Vincent and Tom are sort of like a package deal,” Claire explains. “They’re both hot, but Vincent is like, off the damn charts. I’m sure Eve told you about him, right?” Her eyes flit between us as Janelle’s gaze liquefies into fury.
“Wait. You mean, Vincent Borignone?” She purses her lips, waiting for the ball to drop. I hold my breath.
“Yup,” Claire supplies easily. “The one and only.”
“Oh, yes. Eve told me all. About. Him.” She punctuates every word, seemingly trying to keep herself calm.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom before we go.” I stand abruptly and run down the hall, with my phone in hand.
Running into the stall, I shoot out a text to Vincent.
Me: Hey. My plans changed. Claire came over and wants us to all go out. Heard you’re coming?
Vincent: I’ll be there. I know I can’t touch, but I’ll be watching
Me: I like that. Janelle is with us, too
Vincent: Cool
Me: She hates you, by the way
Vincent: One day she’ll get over it. When we’re together and all this shit is behind us
Me: I can’t wait…
Vincent: Love you baby
Me: Love you too
We all walk together out of the dorms when Claire’s phone rings. She answers and immediately begins chatting about tonight’s plans. Janelle squeezes my hand and I turn to her.
“I’m going to nail that man’s balls to the wall tonight for what he did to you last year!”
All of a sudden, Janelle pauses, eyes widen as she stares at my jacket. “Eve. Tell me where you got that coat.”
“Janelle, stop it,” I hiss, turning my eyes to Claire. Thankfully, she’s too busy on her phone to notice our conversation.
“Oh my God. Tell me you did what you promised. Tell me you aren’t seeing him.”
“Now isn’t the time to explain. There’s so much happening—” I bite my cheek and look down.
“You had sex with him, didn’t you? How long has this been going on?” Her eyes are murderous. “You swore to me you’d stay away.”
I want to lie, but I can’t. Instead, I keep my mouth shut. Claire hangs up the phone and tells us Tom is sending a car to pick us up at the dorm.
“How lucky are you two to have friends who are so well connected?” The sarcasm drips from her voice.
Claire moves her gaze between Janelle and me. “Why do I get the feeling something is going on? Is this about Vincent?”
Janelle puts a hand on her hip and stares at me pointedly.
“No, nothing is about him. We’re just friends is all.”
Claire’s jaw drops. “Do you have a death wish or something, Eve? If Daniela ever finds out—”
“Exactly!” Janelle exclaims.
My face must be red; I can feel the heat traveling through my veins. “He has a lot going on, a-and...” My words are coming out in stutters; I’m not prepared for this.
They both stare at me unhappily. “It’s your life. But don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Claire shakes her head from side to side.
I look down when Janelle takes my hand. “Tonight, let’s have fun. You deserve it after all your hard work. I just wish you’d use your brain and choose someone else. He’s—”
“Let’s just leave, okay?” I swallow hard, knowing how lucky I am that Janelle didn’t fulfill her promise of never speaking to me again. She’s not simply my sister or my best friend. In so many ways, she’s truly my other half.
A large black Escalade shows up right in front of my dorm. The driver opens the door, and we all climb inside.
Stepping into the club, a beefy-looking guy walks us straight to a table on the right side of the dance floor.
I see Tom first; Claire must not have told him that she was with me, because he looks pretty mad I’m here. Trying to ignore him, I walk over to where Claire’s friends are sitting. Everyone is in a great mood, celebrating the end of finals. I spot Vincent, sitting in a dark corner with his hat pulled down low. Even though it isn’t easy to see him, I can feel his gaze on me. I force my feet not to run to him.
Looking around, I wonder if Daniela will show up tonight. I silently pray she is sick with the flu and stuck in bed, puking with a raging fever while her little white dog chomps on her favorite red-quilted Chanel bag. I chuckle at my evil musings. But deep down, I know she always is sure to be where Vincent’s at in public.
Claire hands Janelle and me shot glasses full of Bacardi. I feel his eyes on me as I swallow it down. I see him from my side eye, nodding at me; wordlessly letting me know he’s watching.
Claire and Janelle grab my hands and bring me to the dance floor. We grind up against each other as heat pulses inside my veins. I watch Vincent lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. I incinerate from his stare.
Claire bends down, putting her lips to my ear. “Holy shit, Eve. Vincent is staring right at you!” Her voice is nervous but excited.
My heart skips as Vincent stands up, seemingly walking toward me. My heart pounds so loudly, I’m sure the entire club can hear it. My eyes lock on his. I want him so bad in this moment, I could scream.
I hear a loud squeal before I see her. Turning toward the sound, I watch as Daniela glides in and grabs Vincent’s shirt. Moving up to her tiptoes, she kisses him while their friends whistle at their display. Her tongue slides into his mouth and my heart drops into my stomach. I watch as Janelle surveys the scene. She’s shaking her head angrily. I squeeze her hand, yelling into her ear, “Let’s get another shot.”
We walk to our table where I find a bottle of tequila sitting on ice. I pick it up and pour us four. I shoot two drinks, watching as Daniela whispers something to Vincent. I’m staring at them so hard I barely feel the burn of the liquor. She moves onto his lap as if it’s her rightful spot, removing the hat from his head.
My eyes bug out as she screams, “You shaved your head?” Her shriek has the table craning their heads toward her. Vincent’s hair is buzzed in a military style, and he looks like a total sexy bad ass.
He turns to me for a moment and winks. God, he looks gorgeous like this. With his chiseled face and sharp jaw, he’s sin. I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
When Daniela notices everyone watching her, she flips her shiny red hair to the side, composing herself. Smiling confidently, she possessively rubs a hand against his head, pulling him closer to her. Every cell in my body is screaming at her to stop. Didn’t he swear that his body is mine? Mine! My rational mind knows this isn’t real, but anger blurs all my senses. I want to yell like a maniac. I want to claw her eyes out!
Vincent is turning me into a monster.
All I can see in this moment is Daniela.
Daniela’s perfect hair.
Daniela’s gorgeous face.
Daniela’s model-perfect outfit. Touching my tight red dress, I realize how cheap I must look compared to her. She is high-end-designer, and I’m the Chinatown copy. Insecurity blazes through me. I’m a wooden house and her perfection is like lighter fluid, her beauty and wealth the matches.
I turn to find Claire is next to me. I put my hand on her arm, desperately needing reassurance. “Do I look like shit? Is my hair frizzing?”
She stumbles back a bit but then rights herself, holding onto me for support and giggling drunkenly. “Eve, you might be the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen!” She hiccups while I look at her with hope. In one moment, Daniela managed to steamroll my self-esteem. “Everyone has been talking about you since you came to school. You’re by far the prettiest girl in this club and I don’t know what the hell is going on with Vincent, but he’s obviously ob-sessed with you.”
Her eyes move behind me for a moment. “Oh. Shit. Don’t turn around, but Vincent’s staring at you and like, isn’t even blinking.”
“Is Daniela still sitting on his lap?” I need Claire to be my eyes.
“The fucked-up thing is that yes, she is. She’s on him, but his eyes are only on you. Oh no, she’s—”
Hands grip my shoulders, spinning me around. It’s Daniela, and her smile is so fake it sends an actual shiver down my spine. “Hi, sweetie!” she says, throwing her arms around me as if we’re best friends. Taking my hand, she practically drags me to a corner of the club, away from prying eyes.
The corner is dark. She drops my hand as if it’s diseased. “I see now that you have a little crush on MY Vincent. You like to look at what isn’t yours, huh? Did you fuck Tom just to get closer to him?” My eyes widen with her accusation, tongue frozen in my mouth from fear.
“Wait a minute.” Her smile turns lethal as her face darkens, as if she’s realizing something for the very first time. “Vincent fucked you already, didn’t he?” She rolls her eyes before shrugging. “That’s Vincent. He’s wild in bed; needs a lot to keep him satisfied. Do you get nice and dirty for him, how he likes? There are things he wouldn’t dare do to me. I’m too classy for that.”
She lets her eyes rove from my toes up to my face. “But you?” She chuckles, pressing a French-manicured nail up to her lips. “I can see how a girl like you would be up for anything. All desperate and cheap, giving it up so easily and willing to do anything he wants.” My stomach drops, pain filling the space between my lungs.
“You see, no matter who he fucks, I’m the one he’s going to show up with in public. I satisfy him in a way you never could. Meanwhile, you spread your legs for just a moment with him. Girls like you are a fucking dime a dozen,” she sneers.
Flipping her hair to the side, she continues, “My rightful spot is next to him, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He and I go together perfectly. And your spot? Your spot is to be his whore. Because that’s all you’ll ever be to Vincent.”
Stepping backward, she puts a smile back on her face before turning on a high heel. I try to focus on the world around, but it’s spinning. Somehow, Janelle finds me, bringing me back onto the dance floor. I see Vincent and Daniela again. But this time, it’s Daniela making eye contact with me as she kisses him, probably moaning into his mouth. He pushes her off, and I see his lips move. It looks like he’s saying “enough,” but I can’t be sure.
Strobe lights flash, creating shadows on the walls around. I try to go with it, letting the music take me away.
The competitive part of me rears its head. I want him to wish it was me on his lap, not her! I want him to picture my lips on his, not hers! Even though the music is going fast and my head is spinning from the liquor, I consciously slow my pace. All I can process from my conversation with Daniela is that she thinks I’m no one. She thinks I’m just trash. Well, fuck her! That man is mine!
Licking my lips, I stare at Vincent. Moving my body seductively, I try to communicate with my movements how badly I want him. I shut my eyes and throw my head back, letting my hair drape down my back. I know how much he likes when my hair is wild like this. I want him to read my gestures…to understand that I need him now. I need him inside me. Everywhere, all at once. In the back of my mind, I realize that Daniela is willing to throw down, and fighting her is a really bad idea. But in my drunken haze, I couldn’t care less about anything or anyone else. I want him to prove to me that I’m the only one.
As I dance, the entire scenario plays out in my head. I picture him coming up behind me, his hands pressing me against his hard body. I imagine him taking my hand, pulling me into the bathroom. Pressing me up against the stall, kissing me, and turning me mindless. He’d lift up my dress and give me what I’ve been both consciously and subconsciously asking for since the moment I met him.
I feel a man come up behind me. Instead of walking away from him, I press myself to his front, feeling him harden. I screw my eyes shut, imagining that it’s Vincent. This guy is exactly what I need right now: a prop. I move against him, opening my eyes for a moment to see if Vincent is watching me. His jaw is ticking; I can practically see his teeth grinding together. Is he angry? I want him mad as hell. I want him to realize how it feels to see me with someone else. He used to have sex with that vile bitch, and it infuriates me. Everyone on earth believes they belong together, and it makes me sick. I’m angry at her for saying that shit to me, but I’m livid at him for putting me in this position. I hate being hidden. I hate being ignored. It’s not fair!
He’s got a drink in his hand and I watch as he brings it up to his full lips. He tips the drink into his mouth and I watch him swallow. I close my eyes again, slightly moaning, dancing against this random body.
When I finally re-open my eyes, Vincent is gone. I feel my stomach drop as I look around. Did he get so mad that he left with Daniela? What time is it? I need my phone. Where is my bag? Anxiety and alcohol are wreaking havoc on my insides. When the guy tries to pull me to him, I shake him off me, quickly running to the table.
Claire is sitting on Tom’s lap, whispering in his ear. I interrupt them. “Claire, did you see Vincent?” I feel myself sway, my voice raspy and eyes dry. Even in my drunkenness, I can see that she’s looking at me with pity. A scenario becomes clear in my foggy mind. It’s everything I just imagined—except instead of me with Vincent in the bathroom—it’s Daniela. Daniela is against the wall. Vincent’s lips are on HER neck. She’s moaning. Everyone knows they are in there. I’m stuck out here, the idiot. He’s fucking her. She’s better for him than me.
I’m completely messed up, engaging in this weird triangle I’m not equipped to handle.
Janelle moves behind me. “I think you should go home. You’ve had too much drink. Let me get us a cab.”
I continue to look around the room. Where is he? I need Vincent. The tears well up in my eyes. Is he mad at me?
Tom stands, saying something to Janelle. Not a moment later, he’s grabbing my arm. “Let’s go, Eve. Your night is over.”
“What the hell, Tom?” I’m furious as he hustles me forward, not giving me a chance to even say goodbye. I’m teetering on my heels as Tom drags me out of the club.
Right outside, a black Escalade stands with its engine running. Tom opens the car door, pushing me in and throwing my purse behind me, like used trash.
“Tom?” I’m confused, my brain muddled. He slams the door shut. Looking at the driver in front, it dawns on me this is the same car and driver that picked us up tonight.
The door reopens and Vincent jumps in the back. Fuming. I should be afraid of his intensity, but instead, I feel my own anger bubbling up—and my want.
“You’re lucky I was there,” he sneers. “You can’t just grind against random guys at clubs. You know what you’re asking for, right?” His voice is condescending and dripping with antagonism.
“Yeah?” I sass. “Well, I’m just trash, anyway. The girl who spreads her legs for nothing while you go out with the fancy girl in public?” The bitterness in my voice surprises me.
He gets closer, lowering his voice to a dark whisper. “You think I treat you like garbage, huh?” My eyes widen with anxiety. This isn’t my Vincent. This is Vincent Borignone.
I press myself against the door, trying to get some distance when he reaches over me to buckle my seatbelt. “Don’t touch me!” I shriek. In an instant, his huge hand is around my throat. I freeze. He’s not squeezing or hurting me, but I know that he could if he wanted to, and that thought alone is enough to immobilize me.
His face is hard as stone. “You want to know what being treated like a whore feels like, Eve? Should I make you suck my dick right now and then throw you out of the car? Should I hand you my black AmEx and tell you to go shopping for a day before I share you with my friends?”
I can’t breathe. I blink, salt water coating my face. I’m crying.
“I’m mad as FUCK right now!” He slams his hand against the seat in front of him. “You think you can walk around a club, touching a man who isn’t me?” His voice echoes around the car.
He’s scaring the shit out of me and turning me on like I didn’t know was possible. My body is acting completely out of control and I have no wherewithal to rein myself in. He lets his hands roam down my chest and onto my legs, lifting my dress higher and caressing my upper thighs with his fingertips. My panties are instantly soaked. My body knows what his hands can do, and my legs immediately part for him.
“You wanted to make me jealous with that fucking guy? You got your wish, baby.” His hands rove higher, calloused thumb skimming the edges my underwear. Oh, God. I tilt my pelvis up as I lean back into the seat.
The moment I shut my eyes, his body heat disappears. I sit up, noticing that he’s no longer near me. It feels as if he’s punishing me. Even though my mind is telling me not to, I move closer to him.
“Vincent, I’m sorry, okay? I hated seeing you guys together. Why did she even show up? She t-told me how you like to be dirty. Told me that I’m nothing.” I’m shuddering, feeling cold and hot and nauseated. Is he going to leave me because I danced with someone else? I’d die if he leaves me. My tears fall harder down my face.
He turns back to me, his eyes frigid. “What else did she say to you?”
“She told me that I’m not the first, but she’ll always be the only. She told me…she told me…you’ve been with a gazillion girls! But sh-she’s the only one who matters. She’s the wife; I’m cheap, and I’m the whore.”
He pulls me onto his lap, shushing me while I ugly cry. Somehow, I fall asleep in his arms.
Before I know it, my door opens. I wake up seeing Vincent crouched down onto the pavement, angling my body toward him. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he pulls off my high heels. “Ahh!” I gasp as they drop off my feet.
“Oh, it hurts,” I moan. He squeezes my arches with his thumbs and I cringe from the pleasure and pain. Lifting me up in his arms, I immediately wrap my legs around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. He walks me up the flights of stairs to my dorm room as if I weigh nothing at all, putting his hands into my bag to pull out my keys.
Dropping my face into his neck, I take a deep inhale. “You smell so good, Vincent. I want to smell you forever. Tell me we’re forever. Don’t be mad at me about that guy. I was jealous, okay? I can be dirty too, if you want.” Whoever said alcohol was a truth serum wasn’t lying. He chuckles at my oversharing.
“We’re here,” he whispers, swinging open my door. He gently places me down on my bed.
“Lift your hands.” I raise my arms and he pulls up my dress.
“Vincent, you really shaved your head.” I put my hands on his head, rubbing the short scruff.
“Didn’t I tell you I would?” His voice is low and deep as he gently pushes my hair back.
“But that was a while ago. I thought you forgot.”
“I’ll keep it shaved until we can be together openly. What do you think?”
I hiccup. “J-Janelle knows, now. And she’s so mad….”
He licks his lips. “Because she loves you. Maybe you should tell her the truth. I don’t want to isolate you from your sister.”
He holds the back of my hair, staring at each feature of my face. “Why did you wear so much makeup tonight? I hated it.” My stomach sinks at his displeasure.
“You did?” I raise my eyes to his nervously.
“Yes. Don’t do it again.” His voice is warm, but also sharp.
“But, everyone said it looked good. And that’s how all the girls look here. I’m trying to fit in better—”
“How many times do I have to remind you? You aren’t other girls. You’ll never be other girls. When I look at you, I don’t want to see them. They’re fake, Eve. They’ve lost their innocence. You are nothing like them. Never will be.”
“But, I want to be. I know the type you’re used to...” I pause, my chest aching with the thought.
“No,” he sighs, using his thumb to wipe my tears. “Don’t you understand that you are my only type?”
I nod my head. “Okay, Vincent. No more makeup. Maybe just a little?”
He rolls his eyes and I shift to get under the covers. Pulling the comforter up and over me, he tucks it into my sides. I want to feel his lips on mine. His tongue in my mouth. Instead, he asks, “Do you have Advil?”
“Under the bed,” I croak. I hear my plastic drawers opening and closing, and then the sink turning on. Finally, I feel his warm breath by my ear. “Sleep.”
“Will you stay?”
“Not long. Can’t bump into anyone in the morning.” He moves behind me, pulling my body into his chest. I slide my legs between his so that we’re entwined and let out a loud exhale. Vincent is my home.
“I wish you brought me to SoHo,” I say quietly, nestling deeper into his chest.
“Me too. I was angry and wasn’t thinking. Tomorrow night.”
I hum my assent.
When I wake up, I turn to my bedside clock and see that it’s five am. I sit up for a moment, my head pounding and muddled. I see the pills and a huge cup of water and immediately swallow them down. I’m not sure what was real and what was a dream last night. But when I put my nose into my pillow inhaling, I know Vincent was here.