I took a deep breath in and let it out. I could smell her in the chilliness of the air: popcorn from the party, leather from my jacket, and something mild but recognizable on her skin and clothes. Rose perfume. Not the kind older women wore. Something subtle, closer to the real thing. Sweet. Doused in snow, the cold made the scent stronger.
“Nick.” I repeated his name, harder than I had intended. For some reason the way she had said his name made my fingers curl into fists. I had to take a deep breath and then release it slowly. The air felt like cold, blue fire in my lungs.
Something I had never known reared its head for the first time.
In under a second, I had to erect iron bars to keep it in check. To restrain it from springing loose and causing havoc. Thesomethingthat came to life had a mean and ugly temper.
She studied me in the darkness for a moment. I got the feeling whatever she felt from me had spoken to her, louder than the name I had spoken out loud. Her next response seemed to come from reading the unspoken thoughts in my mind.
“Nothing,” she whispered, turning her face away for a moment, giving me her profile. “He’s my brother’s friend.” Her cheeks flushed with blood, making her blush spread like fire.
I cleared my throat. “I lost interest in going,” I said, answering her question. Choosing to ignore the insane rattling of bars.
She moved her ballet shoe across the cement, creating a line in the snow. “Does that happen to you often?”
This time, I allowed the grin. For the first time, she really made an attempt to see me in the darkness. Struggling to make out my features, she took a small step forward, her eyes scrunched to almost slits. She was more afraid of me then she let on—I could almost hear the pulse thrumming in her neck—but something possessed her to stay out in the snow and talk.
Un piccolo gattino curioso: A curious little kitten.
“Depends on what it is,” I said.
“I’ll need more than that.” She pinched her fingers. “Just a little?”
Enough about me. I’d find out more about her. “Does that—” I motioned around the area with a hand, thinking of her crying fit, or whatever it’s called when girls cry that hard “—happen often?”
“That—” she took a deep breath and let it out slowly “—never happens. I can’t explain it.” She took her voice down to a whisper. “It’s the worst feeling I’ve ever felt. The panic. The helplessness. My palms are sweaty just thinking of it.” She rubbed them together to prove her point.
“You seem to be okay now.”
She nodded, her stare lost in the shadows, with me. “I’m going to be. My heart is better.” She smiled, almost shyly, and I couldn’t stop myself from returning it.
“Scarlett!” An older woman in ballet clothes rushed out of the studio. She stopped short when she noticed Scarlett wasn’t alone in the darkness. Placing two elegant hands on Scarlett’s shoulders, the woman spoke to her in rapid French.
“All right.” Scarlett’s demeanor changed, became more professional. Even the tone of her voice became more mature, more commanding, as if she were in the position of power. “But give me a moment. I was just having a word with one of Elliott’s friends.Je vous remercie.”
The woman studied me for a moment and then spoke in French again. Quieter this time. Scarlett answered her in the same language, as though French were her first language. The teacher motioned to the entrance/exit with her chin before she left us. She didn’t go far, though. She stopped closer to Scarlett than to the door.
Scarlett glanced at the woman, another smile creeping onto her lips, perfect white teeth a flash in the darkness, before she turned back toward me. I was right about those eyes. Mischievous. Lifting her shoulders, she brought the collar of my jacket up to her ears. She turned her face, putting her nose closer to the leather.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For this. And for…everything.” She hesitated before she went to remove the jacket.
“Keep it.”
“No, you’ll—”
The woman cleared her throat.
“I have a coat inside, you’ll freeze,” Scarlett rushed out.
“It looks better on you,” I said, my tone clear enough. The leather jacket belonged to her now.
She huffed out a laugh. “Do you always give your clothes away?”
“Never.”
“Hmm.” She stuck her nose further into the jacket. I could see from the outline of her face that her smile had grown. “I’ll have Elliott give it back to you the next time he sees you.”
I shrugged. The black thermal shirt felt tight across my shoulders all of a sudden. “We’ll see.”
