14. Ivy
CHAPTER 14
Ivy
I make my way down to the airline check-in desk, pulling my carry-on suitcase beside me.
I’m headed to New York City with nothing but a huge cloud of pipe dreams and a wish, and a heavy load of guilt.
I can still picture Grammy’s face, the way she hugged me as if it were the last time.
She thinks I’m going to Baltimore. After fighting with Sameul, I figured Grammy would be stressed if I told where exactly I’m going.
So, I lied. Again.
What’s even horrible is, I stood there, smiling with a huge weight of lies and guilt hanging over me.
The thing about my grandmother is that she has always been very perceptive. So if she saw the secrets in my eyes, she didn’t address them.
She also knew that Samuel and I had a fight and that he was against my departure, but she wasn’t aware of the exact reason.
She also doesn’t know that I’m literally going with a little under fifty-five hundred dollars in my account. If she knew, heads would roll.
Now add the lie I told last week…
A sharp pain strikes again in the center of my chest.
Every time I think of all the lies I’ve told, and my deception, as well as the fear of being caught red-handed, the pain slits through me as if to pierce my soul.
I already know that I’m going to suffer from this, but on the hope that I will find the woman that broke my grandmother’s heart, I started searching for her.
Beverly Olivia Irving.
At least that was her given name. Olivia from Grammy and Beverly from Gramps.
Searching for that name now has resulted in numerous women, scattered all over the world. It felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack.
That’s when I started taking programming and coding lessons. Building the right algorithm and system can do wonders for anyone, but I had a target.
I couldn’t hire a private investigator like ordinary people, my brother would find out and nix the operation. He’s already done it before and thought I didn’t know.
I also couldn’t go to the police and open a missing person report, as I found out Gramps already did that when he was alive, maybe six times after my mother broke contact with her parents.
Which meant one last resort for me. Accessing federal information. I first started with death certificates in the state of California. That yielded no results.
On one hand, I was pretty relieved that she wasn’t certified as dead, which made the probability of her being alive quite high.
But then I started thinking if she wasn’t in California, where else could she go?
So… I kinda broke into the systems of all fifty states.
This time, my stomach twists again with a vicious grip that makes my steps falter. I almost bump into a large family rushing toward their gate probably.
“Calm down,” I whisper to myself, but the words sound like a futile desperate plea that I already know won’t help.
The fact is, I’m in so much trouble right now… but then again, I have to find her.
There’s no way I can ask Samuel, though I’ve always suspected my whole life that he knows more than he lets on.
And then there’s the nightmare that I caused that resulted in Gramps dying.
The sharp, twisted pain that grips my soul this time around actually succeeds in taking my breath away that I halt to a stop in the middle of an insanely busy airport.
My chest hollows in. My back hunches over. I can feel a familiar tingle and tightening within me.
“No, not now…” I gasp.
I look up, but my vision is blurry. The shadows around me seem to be moving faster and slower all at the same time.
And then I see him.
But this is not the first time I’ve seen him.
His eyes always seem to penetrate my entire being, always cold, sharp, and accusing.
I see his face, the disappointment that tinged his eyebrows, the way his lips are pressed in a thin line.
He wasn’t a man prone to anger, but when he did get angry, it was enough to silence the entire house.
I blink and Gramps is gone.
I’m back in the airport, breathing fast and hard.
It’s been years but I still see him. And I know he hates me for cutting his long life short.
Before I realize it, a hot fat tear drops to the back of my hand.
On one hand, I really wanted to hold on to Gramps. After all, this is the only time he visits me.
I never dream about him… I just dream of drowning.
I never see him smiling… I just remember the tense silence moments before…
SNAP. OUT. OF. IT!
I shake my head and more tears fall down my cheeks.
Realizing that I’m about to have a full-blown meltdown, I quickly wipe away the evidence of my pain, and pull myself together so I can rush toward the gate.
The boarding pass in my hand is almost crumpled up into an unrecognizable mess.
By the time I get to my gate, it’s already last call and the area is empty. I didn’t even get the chance to grab a quick bite to eat as I was already late, but that’s what happens when guilt hijacks your sleep.
As I wheel my cabin bag down the ramp, my body feels heavy and tired.
My phone buzzes with a text just as I get to the door.
Astraea : I’m going to miss you so bad! Remember, home is where the heart is!
Astraea : PS. By the way, I made alternative plans for you!
Astraea : PPS.You’re sooooooo welcome!
I frown, reading the consecutive texts.
Something’s wrong about this. What does she mean by alternative plans? And why the hell am I welcome?
It's a no-brainer that my friends are dramatic as hell, but this is kinda unsettling.
With my current state of mind, I really don’t need surprises or anything dramatic to the next level.
“Ms. Irving?”
I look up and the flight attendant is looking at me with an ever-so-polite smile that makes me realize that she’s been waiting for me.
“Yes, sorry about that,” I say with an apologetic smile of my own.
“That’s all right. We’re about to get ready for takeoff, please, this way. I’ll show you to your seat.”
I smile and nod, but inside I’m confused. Since when do economy saver passengers get “shown” to their seats?
She reaches for my carry-on and smiles as she turns around and heads into the aircraft.
Feeling incredibly uneasy, I follow after her and instead of going to my seat way at the back as it was the last seat available on this flight, she stops short of a few steps.
I look around and realize this must be the new first-class lounge… which is entirely empty.
“Ms. Irving, this is your seat,” the flight attendant, whose name tag says Jane, gestures to one of the wide seats by the window.
“Ummm, yeah, there must’ve been a mistake. My seat is?—”
“Your seat was upgraded,” she says, smiling widely.
“Uh, when did that happen? I literally just checked in not more than twenty minutes ago.”
“Just after you checked in, ma’am,” Jane says, obviously puzzled by my lack of enthusiasm.
“Was this charged to my credit card?” Because I can’t freaking afford it!
“No, not at all. Someone else covered the expense.”
I pause.
Is that what Astraea meant when she said I’m welcome?
Suddenly, a smile appears on my face, a genuine one this time.
God, I know I don’t deserve this, but I thank you for the friends you’ve given me.
“Well, it seems to me, it would be a great shame to refuse such a lovely, generous gift, don’t you think, Jane?”
Jane smiles and helps me take my seat. She stores my bag way, offers me a hot towel and a complimentary bag full of designer goodies like lotion and stuff.
Then she asks if I’d like a glass of their finest champagne and a small platter of strawberries and milk chocolate.
I’m not much of a drinker, but for the next few days, I think I’ll need to stay sharp and focused so I can only enjoy now.
“Yes, please, thank you!”
Feeling slightly giddy, I grab my phone and shoot Astraea a text.
Me : THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU COUGAR!!!! I’M IN HEAVEN! Xoxo
Astraea : WOW! I didn’t think you’d react this way, but yay!
I giggle at her response.
Me : You’re the best! I already miss you all. Talk later!
At that moment, Jane brings over a crystal glass with bubbly champagne and a clean ceramic platter of cold strawberries and warm chocolate.
“Oh wow!”
“Only the best for you,” she says with a wink.
“Oh yeah! I deserve this!” I laugh. Yeah, Astraea is prepping me for hell, but if this is her way of prepping, I don’t object.
“Enjoy!”
Taking a sip of the champagne, I realize it’s my absolute favorite.
I’ve only ever had this kind in Westbrook Blues, twice before when… I halt my thoughts and take another sip.
It’s the smooth, sweet one that I know is rare and expensive.
No doubt Astraea had the airline get this for me, but how did she even know that this is my favorite?
I never once told her that. Not that I’ve actually shared my true self to anyone at all.
Wow, I think at this rate, I owe her, not the other way round.
Settling into my seat as comfortably as possible, I close my eyes as I munch on the strawberry dipped in chocolate.
Soon I hear soft footsteps approaching.
“Any second now and you’ll likely self-combust with an orgasm.”
That voice…
Those words…
Could it be?
My eyes fly open and immediately connect with eyes so green, a forest in summer pales in comparison.
And this time, something glints in the ever-icy emeralds that makes my breath catch.
“I’d pay good money to watch,” Emmett Easton says in his rich, deep, dark voice that sends all my brain cells into a non-functioning state.
I blink, my jaw slack, my body starting to tremble.
“Angel.”
EMMETT
Her name rips out from my lips an entire heartbeat before I can recant it back.
Like a man walking to his own execution, I step closer to the ire of my existence and just take her in.
Not that I haven’t seen her…I have. Just three days ago, in fact.
But I’ve also seen her in places where she thinks no one notices her.
I know she has been crying; I watched her mini show of falling apart and pulling herself together in the airport.
Just as she has always done her whole life.
Must be exhausting, having to glue yourself together when the broken vessel is wet and sticky with old and new tears.
She’s trouble, this girl, and yet, as she looks up at me, I feel it again. A kick in my entire system, as if I’ve just been rebooted… effectively.
“Did you miss me?” I ask softly and her lips drop open just slightly, making a perfect “O” that makes me think of something ridiculous.
“Emmett,” she utters my name as if she’s out of breath, delighted, and scared all at the same time.
I watch as a whole plethora of emotions play across her beautiful face, but her eyes are the honest feature where everything else is a farce.
Angel’s big doe brown eyes blink several times at me.
First is shock. Which is weird, I did warn her I’d come for her.
Second is surprise… and not the good kind.
Which leads to suspicion, apprehension, caution, and defense systems on high alert.
I almost smile.
That’s her true self. A guarded, cautious liar.
“W-what are you doing here?” she stutters, looking up at me.
"Shouldn’t I be here?” I hold her gaze.
“On a commercial plane?”
“I’m not a snob.”
“Just an asshole, then.”
“I’ve never claimed to be a saint.”
Angel rolls her eyes, then she stares up at me with a tinge of annoyance.
“Is this a coincidence?” she asks seriously.
This time, I can’t help but smirk just a bit.
This girl is many things, but an idiot isn’t one.
She’s learned to stay on her toes, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Judging by her recent acts, I can hazard a guess as to why that is.
“That’s a strange question to ask, don’t you think?” I say, slowly removing my jacket.
The flight attendant takes it and hangs it up somewhere. I wave my hand and she goes away.
“Knowing you, is it really?” she bites back.
“I guess when the question is coming from you, it isn’t.”
I watch as her eyes flit to the left just a bit and then they are back on me.
Angel is such a person. She’ll pretend to be perfectly all right when I’m pretty sure she’s about to have a panic attack.
Go ahead, Angel. Ask me.
“What does that mean?” she whispers.
Bingo!
“What do you think it means?” I counter.
We stare at each other.
From the very day we met, in the middle of a horrible, record-breaking blizzard, whenever Angel and I are alone, we’ve always been very direct.
Our friends think she’s very quiet, soft-spoken, and reserved.
If only they knew when we’re alone, she’s anything but.
“Since when do you fly commercial?” she questions, suspicion alight in her brown eyes that I always make sure never to stare into for long.
Ahh, classic change of topic tactic. Don’t worry, Angel, I have an entire flight and the next few days to get you where I want you.
“Since I want to congratulate you,” I say simply, and she perks up.
Something so familiar, it’s almost second nature at this point, flashes in her eyes.
Guilt.
“Congratulate me?” she croaks, watching me with extreme caution.
I can’t help but lean over, getting closer to her.
For some insane reason that I will never explore or study, this girl is not the only one that isn’t her usual self when we’re alone.
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten your triumph?” I mutter softly.
“I haven’t,” she whispers. “Color me shocked that you keep up with my affairs.”
“Oh, trust me, Angel, I make it a crucial point of my life to keep up with all your affairs.”
Her eyes snap up to hold mine.
I let her see.
Then, I enjoy another plethora of emotions playing in her large, doe brown eyes that would sink a lesser man.
As I stare, a low hum starts playing in my ears.
Slow, out of sync… dangerous.
Or is it my body?
I don’t know where, but suddenly, the gravitational force field around this girl that I’ve learned years ago to avoid, pulls me in.
Before I realize it, I’m even closer than I was.
She’s holding my gaze, but then mine drops a bit lower to her slightly parted plump lips.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, my thumb is already at the corner of her mouth, lightly wiping the chocolate there, and then I’m sucking on my own thumb, with a desperate but sharp disappointment because I already know, this is as close as I’ll ever get to tasting her .
Angel lets out a low gasp.
Her pupils get slightly dilated but she never breaks contact.
Another insane image pops in my head. I can see it as clear as day, and maybe?—
“Mr. Easton, Ms. Irving, we’re about to take off,” a serious female voice speaks right behind me.
I pull back and stand upright, noticing the flight attendant. How long had she been standing there and I hadn’t noticed?
“Please take your seats, buckle in, and get ready.”
There’s never been a scenario in my life where I haven’t been keenly aware of my surroundings, immediately and otherwise, but just now, I literally missed it… because of Angel.
She fucks up my focus like no other.
Yeah, that’s the only reason why I let her affect me so much.
That, and her potential usefulness in my current fucked-up predicament.
Not wanting her to know her effect on me, I turn around to the flight attendant. “Thank you, Jane.”
“Anything for you, Mr. Easton.”
Watching Angel from the corner of my eye, I notice her rolling her eyes, scrunching her little nose in obvious annoyance… at Jane.
Hmmm, interesting.
“After takeoff, can you bring one of those bottles I specifically ordered for me and this beautiful young lady here? We’re celebrating.”
“Of course, Mr. Easton. Anything else?”
“And some privacy.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that, she’s gone, trying too hard to sashay her plain body to grab my attention, obviously, but she’s nonexistent when my entire agenda revolves around Angel.
I turn around just in time to see Angel’s intense look of annoyance…towards the flight attendant.
At that, I smirk.
Angel’s eyes snap toward me. “What’s so amusing?”
“People.”
“People, huh?” she repeats, watching me carefully. I almost falter—almost—but I hold myself steady because this girl has a strange ability of seeing more than she should.
I don’t care for people reading me, because there’s nothing to read, but for some reason, since I met this girl, she’s looked at me in a way far different from everyone else.
At times, she looks at me like I’m broken, too shattered to fix.
Other times, she tilts her head slightly to the left, with her eyes slightly narrowed, judging me.
But since the Christmas we had a couple of years ago, she hasn’t looked me in the eye at all.
In fact, she has gone out of her way to avoid me, ignore me, stewing in her hate…but today, she’s surprised. And I already know it’s in a bad way.
She wasn’t prepared for this. For me.
The thing in my chest groans, thumps, and groans again in a manner befitting a horrible horror movie theme song.
“Are you going to be honest at all?” she demands.
“Are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“When have I ever lied to you?” I ask her softly.
“When have you ever been honest with me?”
“Whenever you are with me, then I’ll reciprocate.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come on, Angel. Let’s not.”
She’s quiet for a bit. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it?”
“No,” I say. “In fact, I volunteered.”
“Volunteered?”
The truth is, there isn’t much in this world that can stand against me and not many can actually come close enough to threaten me, but there’s still a five-four human somewhere in Westbrook Blues estates with a pissy attitude and a commanding nature.
Her baby daddy is an even bigger jerk that makes sure what his wife wants, his wife gets, all consequences be damned.
So, after I heard Astraea talk about Angel’s impending travel to NYC, I decided to seize the opportunity… after a sudden twisted turn of events, of course.
“You sound surprised,” I state, watching her.
“That you would volunteer for anything that brings you into close proximity with me, how can I not be?” Angel counters, arching her right eyebrow perfectly as she watches me back..
“Why wouldn’t I want to be in close proximity with you, Angel? We literally grew up together.”
The sudden flare of pain in her eyes almost knocks me off my feet.
It’s so brazen, intense, and every bit as all-consuming as she is.
I don’t say anything this time and instead, sink into the seat next to her.
I’m aware that I shouldn’t do this at all.
As a matter of fact, Ivy Marie Irving is a hot red button that I should, by all means, avoid as if my life depends on it, because my life actually does.
But then, this conniving, lying, two-faced girl is just the right button I need to press.
“How have you been, Angel?” I ask softly, turning to look at her. “I never got a chance to really ask.”
“Because you care?” she bites back. I deserved that.
“I care just as much as you do.”
She shoots me a look, but I can just about see the haunted emotions she’s trying to hold back.
She hates me, this girl.
Hates me for hurting her, but I won’t apologize for helping a delusional girl break out of her fantasy.
This isn’t a fantasy.
This isn’t one of those fairy tales that will end with a happily ever after. She should know that better than anyone else.
The truth is, my life will end in the same manner it started… as a nightmare.
Why would I want to subject her to that?
Well, not that part, but I am about to subject her to another entirely different game where, if she plays her part well, will benefit her more than she thinks.
“You care as much as I care?” she scoffs. “Wow.”
“It’s the truth,” I say simply. “Don’t you care for me?”
Her eyes, flashing with anger and now slightly alive, widen as she looks at me.
“Are you mocking me now?” she demands, her chest heaving…her tell that tears are close by.
Feeling like shit, I reach for her hand as the plane begins to taxi on the runway.
I hear a slightly audible gasp from her when our skin gets in contact, and it takes some considerable effort for me to keep myself in check.
I grab the champagne flute she’s been holding precariously from her and then place it on my tray table. I reach for her seat belt from one side, then the other, and buckle her in… all the while our eyes remain connected.
“No,” I mutter, almost as if I’m about to drown. “I would never mock you.”
Her eyes widen and I swear they get darker.
“Then what?”
“I care about you,” I whisper.
Her lips drop open slightly and immediately an insane image I’ve had one too many times pops in my head.
Angel of Death!
Don’t forget yourself and who she is! Snap out of it, idiot!
I watch her for a bit.
I wanted to drag this on, play her, see how far she lies but then, just being close to her scatters every inch of me, so…
“I care about you so much that I’m here to ask.”
“Ask what?”
“How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
Just as the plane starts speeding down the runway, I lean closer to Angel.
“Passing the MCATs after some wildly creative coding lines on your part?”