IT’S HARD ENOUGH trying to get through my classes without falling asleep or daydreaming, but it’s downright impossible without Jared. He’s avoided me all week- sitting across the room during classes we share, ignoring me in the atrium. It’s been days of this treatment and at this point, I can’t take it anymore. I sit at our usual small round table like I do every day, the hood of my sweatshirt hanging low over my brow. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I take the liberty of resting my eyes between classes.
“Hey,” a low voice murmurs.
I snap my head up to meet a familiar pair of green eyes. Jared. It’s already Thursday and he’s finally decided to speak to me.
“Jared.” I quickly drop my feet from the adjacent chair and sit up. Then I slide the hood off my long dark hair and try to plaster on a solemn grin.
Jared sits down cautiously and returns my remorseful look. Neither one of us knows what to say so we just sit in silence for a little while, enjoying each other’s proximity. How did it get like this? How did being friends become so complicated, such a change from our once seamless companionship? Jared used to be the one person I could bare my soul to. He’s seen me at my worst and he’s seen me at my best. I need him now. Things in my life are growing to be so difficult. I need him with me, not against me.
“I want you to know that I’m sorry for the way I reacted on Saturday. That was stupid of me. I had a few too many and I was just caught off guard when I saw you with that guy,” Jared finally says.
“No, I’m sorry for not telling you about him.” I’ve wanted to say that to him for days. I should’ve been honest with him from the beginning and avoided this whole mess.
“I want you to be happy. Really. And if this guy is what makes you happy, you should be with him. I’m sure he’s got to be a good guy for you to like him.” Jared tries to give me a reassuring smile but there is pain behind his fabricated guise. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,” I grin warmly. “I think he and I just have a lot in common. Both kinda been through similar situations. Maybe it’s just a comfort thing for right now. I don’t know. But I do care about him. A lot. And I hope he feels the same about me.” It feels so good to talk to someone about my feelings for Dorian, even if it is Jared.
“Well, he better not step outta line or he’ll have me to deal with,” he chuckles.
I exhale, relieved at the sight of Jared’s boyish grin. “Thanks, but you know I am more than equipped to kick his ass if he does,” I laugh heartily.
AFTER WORK THAT evening, I stop in to talk to my parents before heading to my room. I’m exhausted. Being at odds with Jared has taken a lot out of me and not being able to talk to Dorian while he’s in Greece hasn’t made it any easier. I know Chris and Donna had grown weary with my ever changing moods so I wanted to make it a point to show them that all is well.
“Feeling better?” my mom asks as I flop onto the couch in the living room. Chris is watching the evening news and Donna is flipping through a book.
“Yeah. Me and Jared were kinda having a spat but we made up.” That’s the condensed version.
“Good. You know that boy is crazy about you. He can’t stay away,” she smiles. Chris shakes his head at our silly girl talk.
“So I wanted to talk to you guys. I’ll be graduating soon and Morgan will be getting licensed. She was offered a job at a really prestigious salon. I actually was offered a job as well.”
“Oh, that’s great, honey!” Donna beams.
“Good, Kiddo. What’s the job?” Chris adds.
“Um, at a boutique downtown. Managing it actually,” I say sheepishly.
“Sounds good. So what’s the problem?” Of course, Chris would want to cut to the chase.
I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. “We want to get an apartment together. Actually, part of Morgan’s benefits package is an apartment in a really nice complex. And her boss said he would upgrade the apartment so I could live there as well. I would just pay the difference.” I add the last bit to dispel any concerns about our living arrangements. And let’s just leave out the tiny detail that I’m sleeping with said boss.
Chris’s brown eyes meet mine. “Absolutely not,” he says sternly.
“Why not?” I reply incredulously. I thought Morgan would have an issue living in a place Dorian owned but she was thrilled. Getting her on board was a lot less stressful than I thought. Plus we could never afford to live at Paralia on our own.
“Why not?” Chris asks with wild eyes. “Because you won’t be safe there. We won’t be able to protect you. And I told you about Morgan.”
“Yes, and you also told me she might not even know! Morgan is my friend and she has been for a long time.” I can feel my face heat with anger. How dare Chris insinuate that Morgan is only my friend because of her ancient Vodou heritage. “And do I need to remind you that I am 20 years old? And will have graduated?”
“I don’t care how old you are! The answer is no!” Chris shouts. He has really lost it; he hardly ever raises his voice.
“I don’t care what your answer is!” I shout back. “And I wasn’t asking your permission! I was just giving you the courtesy of knowing what my plans are!” Unfortunately, another trait Chris and I share is our hot tempers, and stubborn tendency to never back down.
“Calm down you two!” Donna chimes in. She looks at me with pleading eyes. “Honey, your father is just worried about you. If you leave, we can’t keep you safe. The wards are only for the perimeter of the house. We can’t watch you if you’re not here.”
I stand to my feet and move towards the hall before looking back. “No offense, but there’s nothing you can do to protect me now. I’m not going to be a prisoner here. I can’t live here with you guys forever. I may have a very short time left on this Earth and I want to spend it living. Not hiding out. This is beyond you. There’s nothing you can do.” And with that, I stalk to my bedroom and slam the door.
This is not how I imagined this conversation going. Sure, I thought they’d have reservations, but I never thought it would come to that. Too upset to do any reading from Natalia’s book as I planned, I put on my pajamas and go to bed, hoping that sleep overcomes me soon to ease my troubled mind.
“SO WE’LL GET there Friday afternoon, drop off our stuff, grab a bite, and then Cecilia’s right afterwards,” Morgan says over her chicken Caesar salad.
It’s Friday afternoon, and we are having lunch at a local restaurant to go over final details for our Breckenridge trip. Morgan and I used to do this at least once a week but we hadn’t been spending as much time together since Dorian came into my life. I have to admit, I’ve missed her. She is in fierce Fashionista mode this afternoon in a leopard print mini skirt, a white tank and a pale pink blazer. I am much tamer in jeans, a black tank, and my leather jacket, topped off with a printed silk scarf.
“So your friend Bobby is spinning that night and can get us in?” I ask. Leave it up to Morgan to have connections in all the hot nightclubs.
“Yup. He even told me about this event at the brewery there. Super exclusive, meaning only the hot, young and rich are getting in. So bring you’re A-game!”
“I don’t know, Morg. You know, Dorian is meeting us up there. I thought it’d be a good chance for you guys to really get to know him. He’s really cool and laid back. Not ‘creepy’, as Jared likes to think.” Inviting Dorian was a risky move. My friends could disapprove of him and then what? Would I stop seeing him? Probably not.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Kinda freaked out that I’ll be partying with my future boss, but hey, if he can roll with you, he can’t be all that bad,” she winks. Her approval means a lot to me and having her on my side eases some of my anxiety.
“Thanks,” I smile. “I just hope Jared isn’t too freaked out about it.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Morgan says mindlessly.
I give her a raised eyebrow, like Dorian usually gives me. “Why do you say that?” Not that I want Jared to be freaked out, of course.
“Well, I was going to wait and tell you after we had eaten and all sharp utensils had been removed from the table,” she snickers. I put down the half of club sandwich on my hand and give her my undivided attention.
“So of course after the big blow up at Palmer Park, I hear about it… from Miguel but that’s a different story. Anyway, I call Jared to check on him because Miguel said he was really broken up about it. He was pretty pissed, Gabs. You really broke his heart.”
“I know,” I say solemnly. The memory of his pained face that evening flashes in my mind. Then I get a glimpse of my salacious coping mechanism later that night with Dorian. I feel a flame ignite down below at the thought of him. God, I miss him.
“So anyway, I thought it’d be a good idea to fix him up on a blind date to get his mind off of it. You know, give him someone so he won’t be so upset about losing you.”
“You did what?” My jaw drops in shock. This was the last thing I expected Morgan to say.
“Well, um, that’s not the worst part,” Morgan says, pausing for my reaction. I urge her to continue with a nod of my head. She inhales deeply. “I fixed him up with Aurora.”
“You did what?!” I repeat more loudly. Some nearby diners turn to stare at us. I can’t even return their glares; Morgan has just hit me with a ton of bricks.
“Just hear me out! My intentions were good, I swear!” she says holding her palms in front of her defensively, trying to calm me. “I figured if she was occupied with someone else, she wouldn’t be so hard-pressed for Dorian. I mean, she was pretty pissed about him blowing her off for you.”
The news of Aurora being upset because of my relationship with Dorian brings a tiny smile to my face. But Morgan is not off the hook for involving Jared. The slore in designer shoes? Anyone but her!
“So what happened?” I ask stiffly.
“They went out on Wednesday just for dinner or something. Jared wasn’t into it at first; I had to practically drag him there. Even had to make a deal with him to cut his hair for free for the next 3 months.”
“So? They didn’t hit it off?” Whew. Disaster averted.
“At first, no. But I guess they kinda liked each other. Neither one of them was psyched about being set up, but I guess they had a lot in common. Jared said they’ve been talking ever since.”
So Jared and Aurora. How could this happen? The woman I can’t stand, with her gorgeous model body and exotic features, dating the guy I’ve loved since the 9th grade. Jared is too good for her, no matter how beautiful she is. Well, that explains why Jared was all of a sudden so remorseful. He had been momentarily stupefied from his date with Aurora the night before. No, I can’t approve of this. There’s no way I’m letting that catty bitch sink her claws into my Jared.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I say shaking my head.
“What do you mean? I thought I was doing you a favor,” Morgan replies dubiously.
I feel bad; she really was trying to help rectify a situation that I had created. Her plan was logical, being that I hadn’t informed her of what had gone on with Jared or my heated run-in with Aurora.
“You were. I’m just being overly sensitive,” I sigh. “I just miss Dorian, I guess.” It’s true; I miss him terribly. And not being able to at least text him has been killing me, though this separation is not nearly as bad as last week’s. That was incomprehensible.
“Still no word from him yet?” Morgan picks her fork back up and resumes eating.
“No,” I frown. “I know it’s family stuff so I’m not tripping. I just wish I could hear his voice.”
“So what…they don’t have phones in Greece?” Morgan asks.
“Of course, they do. But I don’t have his family’s number.” Not that I’d call even if I did. I shrug and pick up a fry, swirling it in ketchup.
“Well, as long as you have his last name, you can find it. Google it! I mean, unless his family is poor or something and they really don’t have a phone,” she says.
“No, that’s not the case. He’s rich, actually,” I remark quietly. “His whole family is very wealthy.”
“Even better!” Morgan squeals. “It should be easy enough to find where his family lives with a little snooping. Geez, Gabs, you sure know how to pick ‘em!”
“Well, of course I didn’t know that when I met him! But I guess it doesn’t hurt. At least we’ll be living in luxury,” I grin.
When I shared Dorian’s job offer with Morgan, she was ecstatic. Luxe and the boutique, Cashmere, are within a block of each other, and Paralia is only a three minute drive as well. We already mapped out our carpooling route to work and toyed with the prospect of walking during sunny weather. I secretly relished the fact that Paralia is so close to the Broadmoor, though I had hoped that Dorian would just move into his apartment complex so we could be neighbors. I have no desire to live with him though; I need my space. Weekend sleepovers are enough for me right now.
“Oh! So you talked to your parents?”
“I did, and unfortunately, it didn’t go as well as I thought. But hey, they’ll have to deal with it. I’m an adult and they can’t keep me locked up forever.” Or away from my best friend, for that matter.
“Well, they’ll get used to it. Besides, you’ll be rooming with me. And have I ever steered you wrong?” Morgan sneers.
“Oh hell, too many times to count,” I say shaking my head, and we erupt into a fit of girlish giggles.
Late that evening, after downing a bottle of cheap wine in the privacy of my bedroom, I am mindlessly tapping away on my laptop. I’ve been avoiding my parents all day, and though I know I’ll have to face them eventually, I’m just not over our argument. After checking the usual social networking sites and growing tired of the many self-absorbed, idiotic posts and pictures, I pull up a search engine and type in a telephone directory in Greece. I know I shouldn’t, and even feel ashamed for trying but I look up Dorian’s last name. Zero records are found. Shit. Well, that was a waste of 60 seconds.
Still not satisfied and a little influenced by Morgan, I decide to Google ‘Skotos Greece’ instead. A page full of definitions and religious depictions pop up. I click on the first one and read the meaning and origin of the name with shocked, horrified eyes. My heart is racing and I can hear it pounding loudly in my head. It’s as if time has stopped around me. I no longer hear my iPod playing in the background. I don’t hear the ticking of my alarm clock. I don’t even see the images flashing on my muted television. All I can see are the words printed in black and white in front of me on my laptop computer.
The definition of Skotos is Darkness.
Terms such as ‘immoral,’ ‘ungodliness,’ and ‘evil’ accompany it. I quickly hit the back button and click on another link, certain that I have stumbled upon a hoax. I open the next webpage and read on about Greek mythology and the origins of Skotos. Still the same theme- sin, shadiness, obscurity, the absence of light. The absence of Light.
Could I be reading this correctly? Am I looking too far into this? Dorian’s name would be translated as Dorian Darkness. Dorian of the Dark. That can’t be true. Dorian is anything but Dark. He’s helped me, soothed me in my times of need. If I’m really being honest with myself, I know he’s something but not Dark. Anything but Dark. If he were, I would be dead by now. He wouldn’t have helped me when I was troubled and weakened. He wouldn’t be so gentle and caring. Yes, there may be a dark element to him, especially in the bedroom, but I asked him for that. That was my darkness beckoning him. It needed to be fed; I had been stifling that side of me for too long. If anyone is Dark, it’s me. Not Dorian. Not my Dorian. If he was Dark, I wouldn’t need him like I do.
Right?
In an effort to convince myself that this is all bullshit and nothing more than a cheap Merlot-induced mind-fuck, I power down my computer and close it shut. No random webpage is going to sway my opinion of Dorian. He is good and kind and thoughtful, the opposite of everything the Dark stand for. There are other supernatural forces out there. He must be something else. But definitely not Dark.
I lie back on my bed and try to wrap my head around everything that’s happened in the past few weeks. They have been more eventful than the past 20 years of my existence. I’ve found out that I am the product of a Light-Dark love affair that killed my parents and made me the target of a sadistic killer. Jared confessed his love for me after knowing how I’ve felt all these years. I met Dorian, the man who has opened my heart to more emotions than I’ve ever felt and given me more pleasure than I ever imagined. I have to ignore the warning bells sounding wildly in my head and lead with my heart. Dorian is not Dark. He would never hurt me. He cares for me, just like I care for him. I have to believe that. I have to hold onto it. Because whatever he may be, whatever paranormal blood runs through his veins, I love him.