Page 49 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I wasn’t looking to see if anything was missing. Instead, I was checking to see if Storm might have left me a message—any acknowledgment that what happened while we were stuck between floors wasn’t just a fluke thing.

I wanted to know if he felt what I did, too.

But why would he? You ran away from him like he had Ebola.

But that was two days ago. Two days of silence. Two days of determining that, regardless of whatever the hell it was that happened between us, I need to stay as far away from Storm Sandoval as possible.

I have goals. I have things Imustdo—for myself, for my family, for my community. And tying myself up with a rich boy from the north side is the last thing I need.

Like, theexactlast thing.

“Would you sit still, please?” Yenn bops me in the head with a Denman brush, and I jerk away from the assault. We’re posted up at the kitchen island as our bathrooms are too small to fit both of us and still be able to breathe with the hot styling tools and sprays.

Yenn pulls on my hair with a gentle tug, and I follow her silent command and straighten before she decides to get truly violent.

“You’ve been weird all week. Is everything okay? Is it classes?” she asks, parting the hair at the nape of my neck to chase the flat iron with a rattail comb. I just continue to sit dazed and off in my own head, unsure how to answer.

India. Arie’sBrown Skinplays from the living room, where Ezra cozies up with his date, Tanner. They’re about as opposite as can be. Tanner is lithe, a literal dancer in the Dance department at Asheford. His family is from South Carolina, and sometimes, his accent is so thick it’s hard to understand him. On the other hand, Ezra is built like a linebacker with broad muscles, and he tops 6'4" easily. Where Tanner is so white that his foundation shade would likely be the fairest one on any makeup palette, Ezra’s skin is a rich sepia.

I love them together, even though they’ve only been dating for a few weeks, basically since the semester started. What I don’t love is that neither one of them is public with their relationship. The reason why? The very real fear of the implications of their relationship.

I wish things were different for them.

I flinch when a hot curl drops on my bare shoulder blade, but Yenn tuts, and I resign myself to her torture tactics for the next half hour at least.

“Listen, ho. Beauty is pain. Now stop wiggling, or I’m gonna burn your ears on purpose,” she says, punctuating the statement with a pop of her gum.

“Do we really have to do all this? It’s Thursday, not even the end of the school week. Can’t we just go somewhere more laid back where I don’t have to get all greased up like a holiday ham?”

“Thursday’s the beginning of the weekend, babes,” Yenn says.

“Ooh,” Ezra says, and I look at him from the corner of my eye. “Holiday ham.” He smiles for a bit with a wistful look on his face, but it quickly falls. With a grin I’ve come to recognize as fake, he tilts to Tanner and asks, “What are your plans for the holiday?”

Tanner’s face turns sad, and I can’t cry under penalty of burnt ears or worse if I mess up Yenn’s carefully applied makeup, so I focus my gaze on my laptop across the room.

The laptop that pinged not too long ago with an email.

An email that could be from….

Stop thinking about Storm Sandoval. He’s just not that into you.

“Anyway. School? Work? Mom and Pops?” Yenn keeps working on my hair as I think about what to say.

“Everything and everyone is fine,” I say. “I’m just worried about tonight.”

She sucks in a breath and cranes her neck around my shoulder to face me from behind.

“Worried? About tonight? What for?” she bursts out. I shrug and move my body back to its original position.

Looking at my laptop and the notification that could be from anybody.

“I’m out of practice,” I finally confess. “It’s been such a long time since I went anywhere. Well, anywhere that isn’t the pub on the edge of campus.” I shrug again.

“And now you’re dragging me to some fancy-ass place, and I’m a little nervous I’m gonna trip over these damn heels.” I look down at the four-inch stilettos next to the door, and a phantom cramp seizes my toes.

“First,” Yenn says, “You’ll be fine. Second, if we’re gonna get you laid, we’re gonna at least get you someone who isn’t a bum. Hence the location.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.

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