Chapter 21 â Disquiet In The Clouds
I pace around my room, holding my phone to my ear. Ray takes forever to answer my call, and I wonder why that is when he's supposed to be in bed at ten tonight. I did not go to work because I felt feverish the entire night, and I'm well aware of the cause of this inorganic hyperthermia â the Damien Spell!
I could give myself two rounds of standing ovation for having the audacity to run away from Damien in the elevator after breaking the kiss. That was the longest one minute of my life, and this is the longest post-kissing syndrome to ever shock me. Not that this isn't the only one I ever had, but I never imagined it would be this dreadfully disturbing. I couldn't stop thinking about the passion he showed me, the cheekiness to shame me in front of a crowd by exposing my feebleness. He was scary, I'd like to think, but the more I remember the way he swept me off my feet, the less he becomes scary.
My stomach's grumbling, but I don't want to go downstairs I know Mom would notice the obvious glow on my cheeks, and she will never stop questioning me until she finds out the truth. I'm never a good liar.
"Angel?" Ah, finally, he picks up the phone.
"What took you so long?" I ask impatiently.
"Just so you know, I was sleeping. You woke me up in the middle of the night!"
"Sorry." I bite my lower lip.
"So, what's up?"
I jump to my bed and bury my face in a pillow.
"Damien kissed me!" I say in one breath.
As expected, Ray throws me the biggest, most surprised 'What?!" I ever heard.
I explain how it happened and how it paralyzed me that I didn't even have the strength to pull away from him.
"And I didn't even stop him, Ray!" I cry. "What should I do?"
His overwhelming silence surprises me. I expect some over-the-top screaming or even a toned down gasp, but Ray manages a calm feedback. "You tell me, Angel."
"Ray, I wouldn't be calling you if I know what to do about this."
"Angel, you're too uptight. Try to loosen up a bit, and you'll find out this is just a quarter of your thumb."
"Ray!" I puff. Where's the overdramatic Ray Gaskell? "I LET HIM KISS ME!"
He snickers. "So what? The guy just said he likes you. You reciprocated his kiss in acceptance. What's wrong about that?"
"It's entirely wrong!" I pull up myself into a sitting position with my back rested against the head of the bed. I can see my flushed reflection on the mirror. My hair is disheveled, and I look like somebody just died. "He's supposed to be my enemy!"
His muted giggle is even more irritating than the brash and mocking laughter of his. I feel like he's hiding something from me, and that I'm promised to never be made aware of it.
"Are you laughing at me?" With one eyebrow raised, I thought of hanging up the call. That would be sweet revenge for me. However, in truth, I want Ray's presence. Aside from its therapeutic effect on me, I totally need someone who's too harmless to accept any form of diversion from me. If I don't release this, I might fall into lunacy.
Ray responds in a matter-of-factly approach. "Let's put it this way, dear Angel. Don't take it too seriously, or you'll go crazy. This thing is so small, why make a big deal out of it? I get that your first kiss is as important as spinach to Popeye, but it's not like Damien isn't your first in technically everything."
"You wouldn't understand me, Ray, because you've always had the hots for that beast!"
"Can't blame me. That's one hell of a specimen!"
"Ray, we're talking about me losing control of my sanity. I always take control of things but..."
He interjects, "But that, Angel, it's not rare anymore, believe me. It has happened to you more than once since the day you asked Damien for a one-night stand. Cut the crap about your first kiss, will you? If there is one creature from the male species who deserves the best first kiss, it would be him. If there is someone whom I want to be my first kiss, it would be Damien. You don't know how much I want to be in your shoes right now, girl. And take note, we're not in the middle ages anymore. You're absolutely primeval if you insist on keeping your virgin ways. Don't get me wrong, I love you for that, but if you continue stressing yourself over that stupid case, I'd rather have you lose your virginity to him!"
"Ah! You're crazy!"
"Call me crazy, but I'm just telling the truth."
"Ray..." I try to compose myself after taking in a few deep breaths. "It's not about that!"
"What? Your virginity?"
"Will you please stop that? The real issue is Damien always doing pranks on me, and foolish me always falling into them like some idiot!"
"You know what? If I don't know you that well, I'd think you've turned into a school girl so worried about getting her first kiss from the boy she likes," counters Ray. "And don't give me that damn 'I don't like Damien' answer. For all I know, you like him just as much as you love to deny it."
Dear Lord! Ray's not helping at all!
"Don't tell me I didn't warn you about this," he adds.
Yup, he did warn me and all the time I just laughed about it.
"Angel, you're smart enough to know what's happening. Don't be blinded by prejudice. See Damien with open eyes. You have fallen for the man despite his imperfections. What more if you accept his totality... the real him, the hottie, the prankster, the genius? Perhaps he's more than just a Greek god."
Falling in love is too strong a word. I know I haven't reached that state of insanity yet, but I wouldn't deny again and again. What's the use of it when people around me don't believe? The more I press on its falsehood, the more I'd look like a jerk. Who am I fooling? I better stop playing dumb. Nonetheless, I'm not certainly positive about this whole thing either.
Maybe I do feel something for him. Just maybe.
"See! You're speechless!" Ray teases. "I always knew you like that damn jerk! He's too charming to be ignored! Don't you ever go on denying it. You're busted!" I heard a sneer before I finally drop the call.
The next morning, after I've taken the last bite of my chicken and cheese sandwich, we hear a knock on the door.
"That's probably Joe!" Dad says, stretching out his arms. Joe's a good old neighbor, and he goes jogging with Dad on a daily basis.
"Don't forget to bring your towel, dear," Mom says. "And don't go further than the highway, okay?"
He gives us each a kiss on the forehead before heading to the door.
"Are you not a little late for school, Angel?" Mom asks as she fixes the dishes. It's past nine thirty, and I'm sure she's wondering why I am a little turtle this early in the morning.
"Don't you usually go for graduation rehearsals?"
Just before I could open my mouth, Dad appears with a smile reaching both of his ears. Behind him is the man I wish I will not encounter for I don't know until when. Maybe until I sort out my feelings and be sure about myself... when I gain the confidence to look him in the eye without wincing.
"Damien says he's here to pick you up, sweetie," Dad utters, his face bearing the largest grin ever.
"My, oh my, Damien!" Mom exclaims. "That's so sweet of you! I'm sure Angel likes it."
My cheeks are blazing hot as I recall the ghost of his lips on mine. Is it me or Damien's really looking at my trembling mouth?
"I'm not going to school." I am supposed to say I am going to Maxwell's for work when my glare accidentally lands on Damien, and I totally lost my train of thought.
"Angel and I are actually working on a project together. Our professor assigned us to a special project that could benefit the entire state," Damien says, his sticky glare not leaving me. He looks like he's waiting for me to agree with him.
Both Mom and Dad nod.
"So where are you going then?" questions Dad.
"At my house," he coolly responds. "I've got all the materials needed. We'll be done in no time."
Mom turns to me with a look that I didn't want to see. I know she's got a lot of queries in her head, but I'm not going to answer them one by one.
With Damien appearing like this telling them he's picking me up and bringing me to his house for research, Mom won't let me off the hook this easily. However, Dad seems to be less dangerous to deal with. Though not entirely oblivious, I know he won't make it hard for me.
"Your teacher is doing a pretty good job overworking you two," Mom mumbles as she struts to the sink, carrying all the plates and utensils. "Why do you still need to work for him when you are graduating in less than two weeks?"
I don't know what has gone into my mind, but my mouth slips out a quick answer. "We're helping Haynes! It's for the city, too. The Mayor asked Haynes a favor."
Dad and Mom share a quick gaze, but neither looks suspicious. Well, I didn't lie, so why worry?
"Well, good luck on that," says Dad, then he kisses me on the cheek. Mom does the same afterward. The glint in her eyes means something more, but I'm not going to feed her theories with details that could get me into trouble. Better leave Sarah with her own opinion.
Damien walks out of the house first. As expected, his silver convertible is parked right in front of our small popsicle-shaped wooden gate. As soon as I step out of it and Mom and Dad close the door, I let out a sigh of relief. Damien opens the door for me when reality strikes me. I'm not going with Damien Etheridge this easily.
"Wait!" I halt. "I can't go to your house."
"Why not?"
"I just can't," I stutter.
"Get in the car, Angel. Your mother's watching us through your window."
I quickly duck in and collapse inside the front seat until I am comfortably tucked in. Damien starts the engine like we're being chased. This is far worse than being tailed by hooligans or patrol cars. We're talking about Sarah Mohr here!
Silence quickly fills the car as soon as he starts driving. My mind goes completely ballistic, thinking of a plan B when Damien starts acknowledging my painful presence. I do not dare to look his way. I'd be too obvious. I know my face hasn't recovered from last night. I might have slept with these cherry cheeks. Nevertheless, I could feel his brief gazes from time to time.
Why did he even come to my house? What are his intentions?
After what happened yesterday, he's too daring to see me like the kiss was nothing. While I'm on the edge of my seat, he appears to be unusually normal. Is he here for confirmation? Is he here to render me defenseless again until I lose my mind and completely confess to him the truth? Is that why he's come to pick me up?
I don't remember agreeing to come to his house for research, yet here I am just one arm away from him with an undecided future awaiting me. All I did say was we have to work on it together, but I didn't mean doing it in his house.
This is just one of the perplexing aspects of Damien's character that I totally cannot and probably will never understand. He can so effortlessly make someone do his bidding. He hasn't done much persuasion and yet here I am. If this is a crime, then I can easily sue him, but this isn't. It's not like he held me against my will or something. There's not much of that element, but I know deep within me that I never would have come if there was a choice.
Is Damien bipolar? Does he have this serious case of multiple personality disorder? I wonder. One time, he can be extremely sweet... naughty without being rude. The next, he can be so brutally honest and insensitive. He is both extremes. I wonder how long he could keep this side of him today.
"Here we are," he says as we stop in front of a majestic looking gate.
Not all rich people find comfort in settling in the busy outskirt of the city. Some of them would rather choose to build their safe havens in isolated areas like this one. There isn't much of this kind of places in our state, but when you find one, it is extremely remote, secluded, and secured. Ordinary people might not even know that heavily-forested mountains and lakes are coveted by the wealthy. Most of us believe that the rich would opt for high skyscrapers or the glitz and glamor of the city. I did, too, until I actually believe that Damien's family are not your usual rich family.
Why would they leave this paradise when they can have all this privacy and peace? It's free from social pollution.
My eyes can pop out of its socket anytime as I drool over the beauty of its architecture. His house is more than just a house. It's an irony if I call it just a mansion. With its size and features, it can be mistaken as a castle. It's like one of those modern European castles where real princes and princesses live. Shades of sapphire blue, ivory white, emerald green, and gold together. It's jaw-dropping!
"You live here?" All the time I thought he's living in his apartment.
"No one's staying here. It's practically empty."
Damien taps his fingers against the wheel of his car while waiting for the gates to open.
"This is more like our ancestral house. Dates way back the 16th century. It's very old."
I can see that although there are obvious renovations all over.
"It deserves to be lived in," I murmur.
"I thought so, too." He turns to face me with a smile. "I always thought you'd like this place."
The mortifying heat spreads across my face.
"I'm not wrong after all," Damien adds.