Page 56 of Moonstruck at Midnight
But Tobias stopped to ask me what was wrong. “Billie, your face,” he said with wide eyes. “Was that your boyfriend?” He pointed toward the door with a frown, probably thinking the worst. The bruise on my cheekbone was visible again from all the crying. The scene looked like something else entirely. William kept looking my way, as if trying to decipher what was wrong.
I didn’t answer. I was trying hard to keep the tears from turning into sobs. You know how it is when you’re trying to keep it together, but someone asks you what’s wrong, and it all goes to shit.Why won’t you leave?
“Billie,” he said, trying to find my eyes. “Did he hurt you?” He looked dead serious.
“No, of course not,” I managed to say. “Please, Tobias, just leave.”
And yes, Thomas had hurt me, but not in the way Tobias was thinking.
The elevator arrived, and the three girls rushed in, as if fearing they would be left behind. William held the door with his arm, reluctant to go inside but unwilling to ask for himself why I was crying. The deep frown settling in between his eyes told me he was worried.
“Tobias, come on!” one of the girls shouted. He walked away, realizing there was nothing left for me to say. William kept holding the door and looking at me even after Tobias had stepped inside with them. I turned around and gave my back to him, hearing how the elevator doors snicked shut behind me a few seconds later.
Caleb slowly approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
CALEB STOOD BESIDE MEwith his hands firmly tucked in front of him as I summoned the elevator to go back to my apartment. Neither of us spoke a single word. Enough had been said for the night.
I opened my apartment door and turned to look at him.
“Thank you. For everything,” I said to him. He nodded, looking a bit more at ease now that Thomas was gone—for the day.
“Do you have any cigarettes?” I asked, trying my best to sound casual.
“I—do. Why?” He raised a brow in return.
“Can I have one, please?” My eyes were welling up again. I thought he would refuse, but he must’ve felt sorry for me because he handed me the entire box. There were only three cigarettes left and a lighter.That’ll do.
“Menthols?” I asked with a feeble snort.
“I like them. They’re fresh.” He smiled for the first time in hours.
“My mom used to smoke these,” I replied, examining the box. “I’ll just smoke one on the rooftop before going to bed.”
I’d smoked once before with Sophie and Cecile in Paris, but I didn’t pick it up. I just needed to relax, and I remembered how my mom used to sneak out at night to smoke. I think that’s why she did it too.
“I’ll come with you. We can talk,” Caleb said, taking a step forward, scanning my face. I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking in the closeness of his face with mine. Talking to Caleb was always helpful, but he had already helped me more than he knew. I just needed a break.
I licked my lips and said, “I think I need to be alone right now. I’ll um—listen to a few songs on my iPod and come back down.”
He nodded and took a step back. “Text me when you get back, though.” He looked up and down at me. As if trying to make sure that I was okay to be left alone. “And take it easy with the cigarettes.”
He left, and I changed into leggings and a tank top, washed my face and made my way to the rooftop. Luckily it was empty. I took a seat on one of the sunbeds and lit up a cigarette. I coughed at first, but the smoke went through smoothly after a couple of hits. I laid back on the sunbed and listened to one of my favorite playlists.
My mind kept reliving the events of the night. Thomas was hiding something from me. I could feel it. And not just one thing, but probably a few. There was this other side to him that he wanted to keep locked up and out of my sight. And how I wished for him to open up to me, but I wasn’t sure if he would.
He answered all of my questions, but something inside just didn’t click for me. All the things I heard that night were confusing and disappointing—nothing felt right. I was back to square one.
I knew he loved me. I could feel it. But his outbursts were becoming more constant—worrisome. I wondered about what his true nature would be like if he’d unleashed himself from the restraint that I knew he was imposing on himself.
The three weeks he would be away were going to be helpful for the relationship. They had to be.
I lit up a second cigarette and promised myself that I’d be done with smoking forever.
The sky was clear, and I wondered if my mother could somehow see me as I kept staring at the moon. I wished for her so badly to feel her arms around me. She’d know exactly what to tell me to make things feel right.
“Waxing crescent,” a voice whispered behind me, making me flinch in my seat.
“You scared me to death!”
