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"Guys..." her voice on the answering machine was curiously flat. Tired. "...I tried the cells, but you must be running an experiment..."
Tonight was two months with Aaron. She knew because she'd always dotted calendars. It made things easier to remember. Yep, two months of late night movies and talking until dawn when they should be studying. Two months of skipping karate and dropping a massage class or two to meet him as he came out of the gym.
She liked him. He made her feel...soft. He liked to see her in skirts and jewelry, though she drew the line at makeup. She'd always hated that stuff...
Two months of smiling and telling the boys over the phone about the time she could steal with her new beau. Yeah, sometimes she might have over shared, but that was only fair. They did the same all the time.
She'd woken up with a smile.
"I know I called earlier and left another message. The day just kind of got worse after that."
Pierce called a little after noon, catching her between classes as she was drifting through the quad. She'd actually been debating what to wear under her dress tonight, she knew she looked good in black, but she almost liked the smokey lavender slip better. The cell phone trilling at her actually made her jump...
...she wasn't prone to letting herself get that distracted, so she answered with the burn of embarrassment on her cheeks. Pierce didn't even let her say 'Hi', just launched into the "Yo! Aya! Get down here!"
She actually took the phone from ear to stare at it a minute before replacing it "Calm down Pierce. Get where?" As long as it wasn't far, she could make it there and back without missing class right?
"Dodge and Ninth, I'm in the game store across the street from the sandwich place."
"I really don't have time..."
"Yes you do."
"Alright" there was a strange, grim note in her friends voice, and she found herself nodding at the phone. It actually worried her enough that she dialed a taxi instead of waiting for a downtown bus. Ten minutes and she was striding into the shop.
Pierce was waiting for her, crowded behind the cardboard signs at the window. He didn't say a word, just laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to stare at the shop across the street. She didn't have to ask what he wanted her to see. She saw him immediately. Like the bright boy he was? Pierce didn't take his hands away. "Girl he's kissing? Trisha Kohl. Yep, that Kohl. Heiress."
"My fault, of course. I did something dumb and made things worse, but I wasn't thinking too well at the time. Fuck I'm a jealous bitch type."
She didn't remember walking across the street. No, she remembered the look he gave her. It wasn't tender. It wasn't soft edged in the least. No, he shot her a look of naked rage over his date's shoulder. There and gone in an instant, but she'd seen it. Pierce, following her, saw it too. She knew because he let out a low, worried whistle. She hated how her throat froze during the first attempt to speak.
Hated how she felt teary and trembly as she defiantly stared him down. She'd always met his gaze. Sure, it wasn't demure, but she just...
...couldn't...
...have changed that much for him. "Aaron?"
She watched as he straightened, long fingers clinging to the woman's as he glared back. "I told you it was over a long time ago Aya."
"Excuse me?" she blinked. She should have been angry, instead she was just confused...a little empty maybe. Numb? That was alright, Pierce seemed to be angry enough for both of them "Fucker!" And the girl. Trisha, right, she had a name...she was angry. Everyone was angry. Except Aya. It was a little disconcerting.
Aaron stood and waved at the nearest waiter "Don't make me take out a restraining order, Aya."
...he wanted to play it off? This guy she'd been dating for two months always late, we had classes. Always gone before morning. He traveled a lot, going home on weekends... . Play it off as what? What was he trying to save while she groped after words. "Why?"
Aaron blinked, something like a smirk creeping into his grim mask for a moment. "You were a mistake, kid. A good lay, sure, but look at you...Trisha and I fought, so I got drunk at that party, but that's no excuse to be following me around."
This time it was Aya's hands holding Pierce, white knuckled and shaky, true, but her hands remembered how to hold on even if she'd been skipping the gym. Pierce...he wasn't a fighter. And waiters were headed towards them.
"And petty. Did I mention petty?"
The last thing she expected to see as they were escorted out was the girl, Trisha, heading towards them from the bathroom. Aya almost saw a slap coming...and it might have been nice. Knocked through some of the numb shock that seemed to have filled her head. Instead the heiress nibbled a perfectly made up lip and leaned in to ask "How long?"
And she couldn't help it, she laughed. So soft and sad it almost felt like tears "Two months." two nice months in which she'd almost decided to change 'like' to something a little stronger.
"Fuck, I'm rambling at your machine. I'm sorry. I'm still a little drunk."
Pierce got them a cab, and she didn't even think to go into class. In fact, she beelined straight for her apartment, trailing Pierce in her wake. She was going to throw away everything that even SMELLED of him. He'd never given her anything, really. Nothing but a little time and attention. Aya didn't have anything concrete to tear apart...in retrospect, she found that funny.
She could, and did, leave a message for her friends. It was a string of serial killers interspersed with 'cheating bastard', but the boys were good at translating. Pierce had slipped across the hall to his own apartment long enough to whip up something. She only realized he was gone when he pressed a warm mug into her hands.
It was cocoa. Or really, it was creme de cacoa with some warm milk added in. She realized that fact a little belatedly, but she would be the first to admit she probably needed it. She didn't want to think about what to do, or how to deal, or...anything at the moment.
Pierce seemed fine with that. He let her slur her way through a bit more ranting before tucking her into the couch and turning some movie or another on. It wasn't one she'd seen with Aaron. That was important.
Somewhere in the middle of third movie, she noticed Pierce chewing the edges of his nails...and it bothered her. She couldn't say why later, but right then? It bothered her. So she had to get up and go get the clippers and file.
And Pierce had to run away in mock horror of a manicure...
...and then things went to hell.
"Anyway, the point of the call. I need to know how to fix a door and door frame. You guys did most the construction on the beach house while I was settling things. I...don't have a clue. I want to fix my door." her careful calm almost slipped then, the last few words coming out in nearly a sob.
Pierce made it out into the hall in his 'escape'. He came back in, backward, through the door and far too hard. Wood splintered under his shoulder as the door frame cracked inward. It was a cheap apartment...
...but until then it'd been a safe one.
The man that followed Pierce in was wrapped head to toe in black. A black stocking under a ski mask on his face. Sweats, gloves. He'd come with every intent of breaking the law. And he was angry. So very angry.
She recognized Aaron the moment he began to growl and step over Pierce. "You ruined it. Five years, we were engaged, and you ruined it!" she was too drunk to totally dodge the swing, but like her hands earlier, her body remembered what her brain couldn't. And oddly the swing, and hit, finally broke through the numb for a little while.
She did the only sensible thing for the moment. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Apartments all around them and she'd just guaranteed the cops would be called. He wasn't quick enough to silence her, but he landed a few more hits, and a flailing kick to Pierce as her friend struggled back to his feet. She felt herself smiling. What ever he'd planned...he had no hope now...
...except...
..."Oh you sniveling little Leonski! PIERCE GRAB HIM!" because Aaron was headed for the door. And they didn't have a single shred of proof that could convict the bastard. It'd just be their word for an ID. Their word on a man whose face they never actually saw...
Pierce missed.
Aya's lunge didn't, though a nail file wasn't her weapon of choice. She didn't give him a bad enough wound to stop him, not through sweats...but there was blood. Physical evidence, and no doubt a nasty scratch along Aaron's ribs as he pelted out the door. It'd help. IF Aaron's blood was on record.
IF it was a bad enough wound to need treatment.
She really didn't hold out much hope for that. She was studying to be a cop after all. She knew how little she held in her hands as far as this 'case' was concerned.
The police were sympathetic. And apologetic as they bagged the nail file and took their statements. It'd take weeks to run it through the computers and labs. They could put the word out to the emergency rooms but that was a faint chance...
"Pierce..." her voice did break then, and she couldn't help but cry. To a damn answering machine, she was crying. What the hell was wrong with her?! "He got hurt. His first broken bone. Only a nose, so it almost doesn't count, but he's bruised up. I'm staying at his place until I get my door fixed. Landlord's on vacation with the phone off. Ummm...call me okay?" that was enough. It was too damn much for one day, much less a machine message.
And Pierce had made more cocoa. Pierce's cocoa was a very, very good idea right now. Cocoa and a couch...
...and she was going to ignore the table Pierce had slid in front of his door 'Just in case'.
Tonight was two months with Aaron. She knew because she'd always dotted calendars. It made things easier to remember. Yep, two months of late night movies and talking until dawn when they should be studying. Two months of skipping karate and dropping a massage class or two to meet him as he came out of the gym.
She liked him. He made her feel...soft. He liked to see her in skirts and jewelry, though she drew the line at makeup. She'd always hated that stuff...
Two months of smiling and telling the boys over the phone about the time she could steal with her new beau. Yeah, sometimes she might have over shared, but that was only fair. They did the same all the time.
She'd woken up with a smile.
"I know I called earlier and left another message. The day just kind of got worse after that."
Pierce called a little after noon, catching her between classes as she was drifting through the quad. She'd actually been debating what to wear under her dress tonight, she knew she looked good in black, but she almost liked the smokey lavender slip better. The cell phone trilling at her actually made her jump...
...she wasn't prone to letting herself get that distracted, so she answered with the burn of embarrassment on her cheeks. Pierce didn't even let her say 'Hi', just launched into the "Yo! Aya! Get down here!"
She actually took the phone from ear to stare at it a minute before replacing it "Calm down Pierce. Get where?" As long as it wasn't far, she could make it there and back without missing class right?
"Dodge and Ninth, I'm in the game store across the street from the sandwich place."
"I really don't have time..."
"Yes you do."
"Alright" there was a strange, grim note in her friends voice, and she found herself nodding at the phone. It actually worried her enough that she dialed a taxi instead of waiting for a downtown bus. Ten minutes and she was striding into the shop.
Pierce was waiting for her, crowded behind the cardboard signs at the window. He didn't say a word, just laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to stare at the shop across the street. She didn't have to ask what he wanted her to see. She saw him immediately. Like the bright boy he was? Pierce didn't take his hands away. "Girl he's kissing? Trisha Kohl. Yep, that Kohl. Heiress."
"My fault, of course. I did something dumb and made things worse, but I wasn't thinking too well at the time. Fuck I'm a jealous bitch type."
She didn't remember walking across the street. No, she remembered the look he gave her. It wasn't tender. It wasn't soft edged in the least. No, he shot her a look of naked rage over his date's shoulder. There and gone in an instant, but she'd seen it. Pierce, following her, saw it too. She knew because he let out a low, worried whistle. She hated how her throat froze during the first attempt to speak.
Hated how she felt teary and trembly as she defiantly stared him down. She'd always met his gaze. Sure, it wasn't demure, but she just...
...couldn't...
...have changed that much for him. "Aaron?"
She watched as he straightened, long fingers clinging to the woman's as he glared back. "I told you it was over a long time ago Aya."
"Excuse me?" she blinked. She should have been angry, instead she was just confused...a little empty maybe. Numb? That was alright, Pierce seemed to be angry enough for both of them "Fucker!" And the girl. Trisha, right, she had a name...she was angry. Everyone was angry. Except Aya. It was a little disconcerting.
Aaron stood and waved at the nearest waiter "Don't make me take out a restraining order, Aya."
...he wanted to play it off? This guy she'd been dating for two months always late, we had classes. Always gone before morning. He traveled a lot, going home on weekends... . Play it off as what? What was he trying to save while she groped after words. "Why?"
Aaron blinked, something like a smirk creeping into his grim mask for a moment. "You were a mistake, kid. A good lay, sure, but look at you...Trisha and I fought, so I got drunk at that party, but that's no excuse to be following me around."
This time it was Aya's hands holding Pierce, white knuckled and shaky, true, but her hands remembered how to hold on even if she'd been skipping the gym. Pierce...he wasn't a fighter. And waiters were headed towards them.
"And petty. Did I mention petty?"
The last thing she expected to see as they were escorted out was the girl, Trisha, heading towards them from the bathroom. Aya almost saw a slap coming...and it might have been nice. Knocked through some of the numb shock that seemed to have filled her head. Instead the heiress nibbled a perfectly made up lip and leaned in to ask "How long?"
And she couldn't help it, she laughed. So soft and sad it almost felt like tears "Two months." two nice months in which she'd almost decided to change 'like' to something a little stronger.
"Fuck, I'm rambling at your machine. I'm sorry. I'm still a little drunk."
Pierce got them a cab, and she didn't even think to go into class. In fact, she beelined straight for her apartment, trailing Pierce in her wake. She was going to throw away everything that even SMELLED of him. He'd never given her anything, really. Nothing but a little time and attention. Aya didn't have anything concrete to tear apart...in retrospect, she found that funny.
She could, and did, leave a message for her friends. It was a string of serial killers interspersed with 'cheating bastard', but the boys were good at translating. Pierce had slipped across the hall to his own apartment long enough to whip up something. She only realized he was gone when he pressed a warm mug into her hands.
It was cocoa. Or really, it was creme de cacoa with some warm milk added in. She realized that fact a little belatedly, but she would be the first to admit she probably needed it. She didn't want to think about what to do, or how to deal, or...anything at the moment.
Pierce seemed fine with that. He let her slur her way through a bit more ranting before tucking her into the couch and turning some movie or another on. It wasn't one she'd seen with Aaron. That was important.
Somewhere in the middle of third movie, she noticed Pierce chewing the edges of his nails...and it bothered her. She couldn't say why later, but right then? It bothered her. So she had to get up and go get the clippers and file.
And Pierce had to run away in mock horror of a manicure...
...and then things went to hell.
"Anyway, the point of the call. I need to know how to fix a door and door frame. You guys did most the construction on the beach house while I was settling things. I...don't have a clue. I want to fix my door." her careful calm almost slipped then, the last few words coming out in nearly a sob.
Pierce made it out into the hall in his 'escape'. He came back in, backward, through the door and far too hard. Wood splintered under his shoulder as the door frame cracked inward. It was a cheap apartment...
...but until then it'd been a safe one.
The man that followed Pierce in was wrapped head to toe in black. A black stocking under a ski mask on his face. Sweats, gloves. He'd come with every intent of breaking the law. And he was angry. So very angry.
She recognized Aaron the moment he began to growl and step over Pierce. "You ruined it. Five years, we were engaged, and you ruined it!" she was too drunk to totally dodge the swing, but like her hands earlier, her body remembered what her brain couldn't. And oddly the swing, and hit, finally broke through the numb for a little while.
She did the only sensible thing for the moment. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Apartments all around them and she'd just guaranteed the cops would be called. He wasn't quick enough to silence her, but he landed a few more hits, and a flailing kick to Pierce as her friend struggled back to his feet. She felt herself smiling. What ever he'd planned...he had no hope now...
...except...
..."Oh you sniveling little Leonski! PIERCE GRAB HIM!" because Aaron was headed for the door. And they didn't have a single shred of proof that could convict the bastard. It'd just be their word for an ID. Their word on a man whose face they never actually saw...
Pierce missed.
Aya's lunge didn't, though a nail file wasn't her weapon of choice. She didn't give him a bad enough wound to stop him, not through sweats...but there was blood. Physical evidence, and no doubt a nasty scratch along Aaron's ribs as he pelted out the door. It'd help. IF Aaron's blood was on record.
IF it was a bad enough wound to need treatment.
She really didn't hold out much hope for that. She was studying to be a cop after all. She knew how little she held in her hands as far as this 'case' was concerned.
The police were sympathetic. And apologetic as they bagged the nail file and took their statements. It'd take weeks to run it through the computers and labs. They could put the word out to the emergency rooms but that was a faint chance...
"Pierce..." her voice did break then, and she couldn't help but cry. To a damn answering machine, she was crying. What the hell was wrong with her?! "He got hurt. His first broken bone. Only a nose, so it almost doesn't count, but he's bruised up. I'm staying at his place until I get my door fixed. Landlord's on vacation with the phone off. Ummm...call me okay?" that was enough. It was too damn much for one day, much less a machine message.
And Pierce had made more cocoa. Pierce's cocoa was a very, very good idea right now. Cocoa and a couch...
...and she was going to ignore the table Pierce had slid in front of his door 'Just in case'.
