Page 33 of Renata Vitali (The Five Syndicates)
“Thank you,” I repeated louder, and what did you know? It didn’t kill me. “Why’d you do it?”
His eyes flicked up and down my face. “What do you remember about last night?”
“I remember…” I cleared my throat. “I remember the library.”
“That’s it?”
Gosh, he was going to make me say it.
“I remember the kiss. I remember the gym. You took down Laura and everyone else. Then, you drove me home.”
“And then?”
“And then, it gets fuzzy. You helped me to bed, and—” It occurred to me that he hadn’t answered my question. “Are you going to tell you why you helped me?”
Why you kissed me…
“You don’t remember what we talked about?” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he chose not to.
My brows dipped together. He was acting weird, not his typical, put-together self. His behavior made me antsy. I traced the marker ring around my finger, a nervous tick I’d developed over the duration of this conversation. I didn’t even know where it had come from, but I drew comfort from it.
Damian’s eyes dipped down and studied my movements. “What’s with the ring?”
“I…” I faltered for something to say. Truthfully, I went to wash it off, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It defied logic. “The marker wouldn’t wash off.”
He must have liked that answer because his toned changed. Brighter than it’d been. “It’s marker, not a tattoo.”
I changed the subject. “You haven’t answered my question. Why did you help me last night?”
His eyes flicked to my ring again and lingered. “I helped you because this is happening, Renata. When we walk out the doors of this library, it’ll be together. I’ve been working towards a goal for the past few years, and I achieved it prom night. I should have been happy, but I wasn’t because I need you. You’ve given me a piece of myself I didn’t even know was missing.”
The bell rung, and neither of us moved.
Damian pulled his chair back, stood, and reached out a hand. “I’m going to leave right now, and if you leave with me, I’ll know I’ve given you a piece of yourself, too.”
This was Damian—the most guarded man I knew—putting himself out there. If I were being honest, his feelings mirrored mine.
I stared at his outstretched hand.
And then, I took it.
Deception is one of the quickest ways to gain little things and lose big things.
Thomas Sowell
Post-prom bliss.
It was a real thing. Not just something made up in movies. I knew this, because I felt it. Was I angry about Laura? Furious. But prom was my first real high school memory, and I wanted to cherish the things I remembered about that night. Like dancing in the library with Damian and my first kiss.
We’d shifted that night. Our nightly library dates turned into heated make-out sessions until the sun started to rise. We’d spend lunch at school in the library, reading beside one another and stealing kisses, because not a damn teacher or librarian would dare say anything to me or Damian. And we drove his Range Rover instead of being chauffeured, so we could spend car rides to school alone together.
We didn’t put labels on our relationship, but the school year had already ended; as an adult, I could leave without legal repercussions; and it occurred to me that, if Maman were to finally find a way to reach out to me, I didn’t want to leave.
I grabbed my henna pen and touched up the line I had woken up with the day after prom. I’d been doing this regularly since, and I couldn’t explain it. The henna didn’t feel permanent enough, but the next step would be a tattoo.
How could I tattoo something I didn’t remember to my body just because I felt an inexplicable connection to it?
Answer: I couldn’t.
