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A/N: You know what, I’m always excited about the summer until it actually gets here, and then it’s too freaking hot to even live. But now that it is summer, I can get back to my frequent update schedule – no more prom, finals, or sad high school goodbyes to distract me. I’m still estimating this story will be somewhere around twenty chapters, so we have a way to go before we’ll get there. And I keep changing my mind about what I’m going to do…
We’re still in flashback mode at the beginning of this chapter. I’ve used italics to demonstrate that it’s a flashback. Hopefully, there will be no confusion. (That’s why I put this announcement in bold. BOLD!)
Chapter Ten of Cry, for the Love Song: Quick Kiss the Painting Before It Melts
People were probably looking for her, but it’s not like it mattered if they weren’t. Even the rain had dried up; she watched the sun climb the sky in its perpetual progressive arc. More time was eking away, and surely, at any moment, somebody, somewhere, would grow concerned.
Or maybe they never would. Maybe her mother had been the last person on this planet that would actually care.
Now, she was truly alone.
Why, oh why, did she have to keep dreaming up such depressing thoughts? Before she knew it, she was curled up into a little ball, sobbing into her knees, rocking back and forth. Her mind went suspiciously blank. If she could only manage to forget, maybe nothing would be capable of hurting her anymore…
But then, arms were encircling her, stilling her frenzied movements. She fought it at first, cried and shrieked and pounded her small fists against the other person. It met a young chest, decorated in black shirt and tie. It was some kid, probably her age, and yet he was so strong –
It wasn’t like the embrace was gentle, with whispering and coddling and promising that everything would be all right tomorrow – it was more simple, two mere arms around her, holding her sincerely.
Cara sobbed on his shoulder for an immeasurable amount of time – she couldn’t be sure, because she hadn’t been in the best state of the mind at the time. She knew, however, that it was long, and that the patience demonstrated in consoling her had been enormous. That steady presence was more comforting than anything she could think of. There was something quietly assuring about how he never wavered, as if he knew that she needed someone to show up for her, right then and there.
Cara wasn’t sure what happened after that, because it had been exhausting, crying her heart out, especially after trying so hard to appear stoic and strong the rest of the morning. Her defenses were so down, and she trusted the other person so much, that she fell asleep.
He must’ve brought her back to her father, because the next thing she remembered was waking up in her own bed. That night, she didn’t sleep a wink.
Five years later, she was about to finally fall asleep in her makeshift bed of blankets and books. Things had undoubtedly changed, but the mystery still tickled at the back of her brain.
Who had that stranger been?
She knew that it was a male kid her age. And she would bet money on the idea that it was someone who had attended the funeral, though there had been quite a few other children there. Naturally, she’d been too traumatized by the fact that her mother was being put into the ground to pay them any mind. So, in the end, that was all she had. Some kid.
But now extra clues were coming into the picture, like that painting. Because if Cara didn’t know better, she’d say that the little girl had been her, equally torn apart on the day of her mother’s funeral.
Bit by bit, Cara was beginning to be sure of it. She knew who that boy had been.
Allen.
It was an understatement to say that the next morning was uncomfortable. The three of them – Allen, Cara and Robin – had gotten used to meeting in the same spot before homeroom. When all three still showed up, despite the previous day’s torrid events, it was more a force of habit than a deliberate action.
To end the awkward silence, (and because he needed a pencil) Robin asked for a pencil. Cara helped him out. Consequently, Allen made a joke for which Robin forced a laugh.
Cara found herself wondering how she was going to break the news about her leaving. Her reluctance to speak to Allen, to even look at him, was turning out to be a significant hindrance.
“Robin,” She said, at length, “I have to tell you something.”
“Hm?” For the last few minutes, Robin had been trying not to seem like he was checking out Allen and Cara’s interaction, while he did exactly that – an admittedly difficult juggling act. He hated to admit it, but the huge-ass canyon of communication he was witnessing was a bit of a relief. It meant that he hadn’t freaked out on Allen for no reason whatsoever. It was still frustrating that the couple seemed to be fighting over nothing. “Sure. What?”
She announced: “I’m not going to live with my cousin any longer.”
He felt Allen stir beside him, but both Cara and Robin were making efforts not to pay him any attention at the moment. “You were living with your cousin?”
“Yes, for two years, but now I’m living with my father again.”
“Oh…good? I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be, unless your father’s a bastard or something.”
Bastard, yes. Cara sucked in air. These next words were hard to speak, and it was even harder not to look at Allen while doing so. “That means that, come tomorrow, I’m going to be attending my old school again.”
Robin nearly dropped the pencil that she’d leant him. Despite himself, he threw a sidelong glance at Allen.
The guy was staring straight ahead, as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. Had he even heard? When he looked back at Cara, her expression was equally blank.
“The hell?” The question was more about the weird way the two were acting, though luckily it could also double as surprise over Cara’s sudden move. He reinforced that notion by adding, “That doesn’t make any sense! You just moved here last week!”
Laughing lightly, Cara nodded. “I know, it’s crazy for me too. You can’t argue with my father, though.”
There was abrupt movement, and then Allen was walking away. No goodbye, no nothing. Cara’s eyes narrowed after his retreating form, until he had completely disappeared into the colorful crowd of students. So that does bother him. The stone has been penetrated, to some degree.
Robin’s voice was heavy. “He’s not telling me anything about anything, so I guess it’s up to you, Cara. What the hell is going on?”
“I guess…we’ve broken up.” As the harsh reality of her words set in, Cara paused. There was only one appropriate reaction: Ouch. It hurt like a bitch. “But I don’t know why.”
Suddenly, Robin reached out and pinched her nose. She slapped his hand and turned to glare at him. But he was just smirking, which infuriated her even more.
“Remember good old Robin in that other school, okay?”
She grinned. She could play this game. Hell, she’d created this game, whatever the heck it was. “I don’t think I could forget good old Robin if I tried. And believe me, I will try.”
And yet…she was nervous. Afraid. She never had fear when she talked to a guy, because the honest truth was that a rejection from them didn’t matter, was inconsequential. She could just move on to the next fish, because the sea was incredibly wide.
But Allen had rejected her – dumped her for no good reason at all – and it had bothered her. Good lord, had it ever bothered her. I’m not trying to get him back or anything, she told herself, but still, the possibility of another rejection had frozen her feet to the cold ground.
Only for a moment, though. Then, she remembered that she was Cara D’accio. No man on earth could do this to her – not without some sort of divine retribution.
Besides, I have a reason for talking to him, and it’s not romantic at all. In fact, it’s entirely business. Stanford has ended the engagement game, and Allen deserves to know. He also deserves a swift kick up the ass, though I’m not going to deliver that today.
The twigs would have given her away anyway, so as she walked up, she also called out: “Allen!”
“Cara.” Chuckling, Allen made a quick canvas of her with his eyes. She felt herself glower at his flippancy. “Should I be surprised?”
“No – it’s out of character. And since you don’t have me anymore, you must hang on to your arrogance, ‘cause it’s all you have left.” Yes! Bull’s-eye. At least I think I’m witty.
“I wasn’t aware that I ever had you. Careful.” He looked away, taking a drag. “Equating romance with ownership is troublesome.”
Here it was. They were arguing again, exchanging barbs. That was how it had started, hadn’t it? Maybe, eventually, things could go back to normal – whatever the heck that was.
Wait. Why am I so desperate? Why do I still care?
“Shut up! I didn’t come here to let you be smug and condescending.”
“Fine. What did you come here for?”
“I’m moving back in with my father,” said Cara.
Even to her, the sarcasm sounded bitter. “So I’ve heard.”
“I’m not done. The only reason I ever went along with this insanity was so that I could continue to live in Stanford’s house. But now my father recently nixed that idea, so I no longer have that reason. You’re not obligated to marry me.” She could feel the fists in the bottom of her coat pocket tighten. “You’re not obligated to do anything, really.”
Not anything at all – you don’t have to like me, or not like me, or kiss me, or not kiss me. Air was hissing out of her, as if she was being deflated. This was known as stinging disappointment, and regret. It was clouding up every part, every single little bit, of her. Nothing. Nada.
“All right.” The next pause probably seemed longer than it actually was. Allen crushed the cigarette butt against the ground. “Thank you for telling me.”
Without knowing what else to do, Cara began to walk away. Now that the conversation had served its only possible purpose, what else was there to say?
She actually got pretty far, before she considered what she was doing. When she did, she stopped in her tracks, her mind reeling. She realized that, truthfully, there was nothing more to say. If verbal communication could help the situation whatsoever, it would have done so long ago.
But there was still something she could do. Hell, there was something she had to do.
She marched back to where he was sitting, her heart admittedly pounding. Allen stared at her. Before she could run away, she forced herself to kneel. Their eyes met, black on blue.
“Cara –” He began.
“Stop talking, for once.” She said, leaning forward.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn’t the slow-down kiss she was holding out for, but she didn’t feel a smidgen of regret for the spontaneity. Their lips met, and Allen did not recoil. In fact, he slipped his hands into her hair, curling strands around his fingers, pulling her to him.
She clutched at his shirt, at the tie from the uniform that was gradually becoming undone. When the first kiss was finished, they began another. It was guilty, but somehow ravenous.
His pressure on her grew and grew, until she fell down onto the ground. He was on top, pinning her down. There was dirt on her bare legs, and she could feel that annoying Catholic school skirt becoming bunched around her upper thigh. Breathing heavily, she clutched the nape of his neck and began to raise her head; but it was unnecessary, because his lips came crashing down to meet her halfway.
The heat in her body was rising and she didn’t give a damn if she was blushing.
Allen rested his head on her chest, and she felt his back stiffen beneath her hands. His mess of blonde curly hair had spilled over his eyes. She felt a twinge of panic. It was hard enough to read him when she could see him.
Wincing, he pulled a hand over his forehead, as if he had a headache. “Shit.”
“What? What’s wrong, Allen?”
He was off her in a flash, leaning back up against the tree. It was like she’d cornered him or something. “Shit – Christ.”
It was like she’d cornered him or something. “What’s wrong?”
When he finally raised his head, it was to give her a small smile. “Sorry, Cara.”
“Sorry for what?” She jumped into a sitting position, and was sure that she must be the one with the headache. “I was the one that came onto you, so –”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Growing more and more hysterical, her voice spiked an octave too high. “Why do you…is there someone else that you like more?” She hated to suggest it, but that was the only feasible reason she could envision. Why else would you not want to be with someone you very obviously liked? If that’s the case, I guess I have to respect it. At least it would make more fucking sense.
His curious stone-face was back. “If there was…would that make you let it go?”
“Well, I’m not going to chase after something I know I can’t have…”
“Then, there is someone.”
She scowled. “Liar!”
He blinked. “Why am I a liar?”
“I’m not stupid. By now, I know how that infernal mind of yours works – you just said that because of the answer I gave, to push me further away.”
“I really can’t fool you. That’s another reason I can’t do this.”
She scowled darkly. “You make no sense!”
He shrugged.
She could still feel where he’d touched her, and her mouth was tingling. So the rejection she’d feared had come again, though this time she’d managed to catch him off guard and expose something besides what he was immediately projecting. He certainly didn’t find her an unattractive beast, and by some leaps of logic, it could also be assumed that he cared about her. Things weren’t as simple as they appeared, but was it worth the extra effort to uncover what was going on underground?
We’re not attending the same school anymore, and obviously, he’s going to make it difficult to keep in touch. I’m not even going to have the opportunity, so I might as well…
…give up.
The words sounded hollow, but it wasn’t like she had a choice either.
Slowly, she stood. “I only have one question. If you answer it, I promise to leave you alone forever, since it seems like that’s what you want.”
He was looking straight at her. Damn man. “Go ahead.”
But even if it was him, how do I know if he remembers? It doesn’t matter if it inspired that beautiful painting. It was five years ago, and just one afternoon of one day, and such a simple thing too. It didn’t seem simple to me, at the time, but…
“Five years ago, at my mother’s funeral, I was pretty depressed – as you can imagine – and, wanting to be left alone, went off by myself to mourn.. While I was crying…”
She stopped, wondering why she felt like such an idiot spouting off like this. She shouldn’t beat herself up, because asking was the only way she’d know. But do I really want to know the answer?
“…There was this boy. I didn’t know him at all, but he hugged me and consoled me and was incredibly kind. I ended up falling asleep on his shoulder, and he carried me back to my father. I’m only asking because in that art gallery –”
“Mm. Fascinating, Cara. Maybe you should find him, and get engaged to him too.”
That was the last straw. Not wasting her breath for a reply, she left. And, this time, it was for good – no running back for passionate kisses, or anything even remotely friendly.
If she never had to deal with Allen Christof again, she could probably die happy.
It’s only two weeks, She thought to herself, as he disappeared from limo’s back window then I’ll be able to escape this hellhole of a home with my father. Legally, he won’t be able to do anything about it. Cara knew that other people had it much worse than she did. Her father wasn’t abusive. He certainly wasn’t present enough for that. There was simply no point to her living with him, because it didn’t make a difference to him whether she was around or not.
Apparently, that hadn’t changed. He wasn’t on the doorstep when she arrived, and even though he was in the study, she was given strict instructions by the butler that he wouldn’t be available for another few hours yet.
Cara went back to her old bedroom, and began to unpack her things. It had been a while, but in many ways, it was like she’d never left. It was still the bed where, for countless evenings during her childhood, her mother had read her picture book after picture book. The television in the back corner had supported many sleepovers with Sophie.
Probably, if she looked, she could find both her fur and leather elementary school diaries, and some random scribbling as to her general excellence and the first snot-nosed little brat she’d ever had a crush on.
Sighing, she crashed onto the bed. Nothing to do now – even the old stand-by, cleaning, was out of the question, because her father had an army of maids to keep impeccable order. The ceiling fan swung round and round, gradually hypnotizing her into becoming drowsier and drowsier.
Home, sweet home.
Not.
It took Allen a full half an hour to recuperate from the storm that was Cara. For most of it, he sat beneath the tree, and thought about how he had lied. Guilt-trips were so much fun.
Well, in his defense, he hadn’t actually lied. Just dodged the truth. If Cara knew that he’d been aware of her for years, even fostered a small crush for the larger majority, she’d have found another reason to cling to him. Which would have been fine – except that his brother had, for years, secretly been the number one suspect in the case of her mother’s murder. That was bound to come out sooner or later, and it was better that her sense of betrayal came in small doses.
But it was getting colder, and he couldn’t stand to stay outside forever. He dragged his muddled mind to his car. He’d barely managed to settle in behind the steering wheel before he noticed that he had a chipper guest in his passenger seat.
“Alex? What are you…?”
“Take me to the arcade!” Her grin was wide, though it was a standard Alex-grin (frequent and always huge). “Please?”
He rolled his eyes. “Have you been waiting all this time for me to…?”
“Nope! I saw you walking towards your car, and got in then. By the way, I still have your spare keys. Do you want them back?”
“As long as you’re not planning to steal the car, keep it.” His own key turned in the ignition, revving the engine. “Why do you want to go to the arcade all of a sudden? Is something wrong?”
She frowned at him. “You’re asking me if there’s something wrong? I’m not the one with the super-long face, mister. I thought pinball might do you some good, but if you have other plans…”
“No, that’s fine. We’ll go to the arcade.”
“Yay!” The hug she then lavished was more of an attack, and it nearly upset his steering. Why were all of the women in his life completely crazy?
The cue finally came when they reached a particularly irritating game involving moles and a hammer “Alex, give me a minute, all right? I’m just going to be outside for a few minutes – I have to make a phone call.”
Not really listening, Alex shrugged a nod. It was fascinating how much the moles had captured her attention, though they also outsmarted her every time.
The street outside was too busy, a sweaty crowd of people trying to take the bus home after a chaotic day at work. It forced Allen into the alley, where even though it was dirty, he could be capable of concentration.
Stanford must have recognized the caller ID, because he answered the phone with a snappy: “Yes, Allen? I take it Cara explained the situation already?”
“I know that there is no longer an engagement.”
“That’s true. Her father intervened, randomly deciding that it might be a good idea to be, you know, a father. So I’m no longer blackmailing you – I’m not going to have the police arrest Will just because you’re not being a good little errand boy. Consider the leash unclipped.”
Allen knew he should be happy about that. His brother, dear asshole that he was, would not be spending the rest of the days in prison for a murder he very obviously did not commit. But it’s not that simple. We’re still playing a cat-and-mouse game with the real killer…
Chuckling, Allen marveled at his ability to find amusement in the sickest situations. Or maybe it was some latent hysteria, finally released. “Glad I’m suddenly useless to you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I certainly don’t have any ideas about what to do with you at the moment.” Seriousness began to develop in Stanford’s voice, as he went on: “I do, however, have some advice, Allen.”
Allen said nothing, waiting patiently. He might be able to predict what Stanford was going to say, but why waste energy on it?
“I don’t like the fact that Roden is hanging out your parent’s house so much.
“He is my dad’s brother.”
“And they secretly can’t stand each other, because your father, as much as you don’t get along with him, is a million more times honorable than Roden. Since you and your father seem incapable of communication, I’m going to step in and say what your father is probably thinking at the moment…”
Fun. “Okay.”
“Listen, I don’t mean to be a lecturing pain-in-the ass, but circumstances have forced me into it. The only reason Roden has ever taken interest in your family in the past has been for recruitment, for his multiple connections with the mafia. He’s not as stupid as I sometimes like to think, and very persuasive. You know he’s already lured in someone in your family…”
“Will,” finished Allen, his breath a little ragged at the thought. Ever since he’d known him, Will had devoted all of his energy to catching criminals. The inherent hypocrisy of such a past was cutting.
“That was a long time ago, Allen. Will was one of the few to escape Roden’s control. That’s why, now, he’s being targeted and framed for a crime Roden committed…I think Roden is visualizing it as some sort of revenge…”
“You really think it was him, don’t you?”
“I know he killed her, Allen. The bastard has practically said as much to me, and he was stalking her while she was alive. I just want you to be careful, and wary.”
“I appreciate the concern, Stanford.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“I have no love lost for Roden, either.” He creeps me out.
“Okay. Well, now that we’ve settled whatever needed to be settled, I have a meeting to attend to. I’m downright responsible sometimes.” There was a pause. “If things work out, I won’t be talking to you for a long time, Allen.”
“I can live with that. See ya.”
“Take care, Allen.”
A moment after he’d ended the call, Alex was outside. She was tugging at his arm to go here, try this, do that. He wasn’t sure where or when she’d gotten the idea that he was desperate for a companion, but it most likely had to do with the facts of his face – which, after years spent together, she was adept at reading like a book. He knew he looked as depressed as he felt.
But before heading back inside, he needed the pick-me-up his addiction was hungering for. I really need to quit, or something. Using Alex’s lighter (pink hearts painted onto the metal for some reason), he bent down and started a new cigarette.
When he raised his head again, he could see Danny through the thin curtains of smoke. The perfect prefect was judging Alex’s possessive posture of Allen. It was more of a best-friend reflex than romantic entanglement, though an outsider wouldn’t know that.
My day just keeps getting better and better...
“I didn't think you were the kind of person that liked arcades.” Allen remarked, off-handedly.
“Chris works here, and I had to talk to him about something. You’re blocking the back door, actually.” His eyes were still moving all over Alex. It was annoying as hell. Alex might as well have had a question mark floating over her head, though she was catching on fairly quickly to the antagonism that naturally flowed between Allen and Danny “You move fast, Allen. Only two days, and…”
“She’s my sister,” said Allen, if only to get him to shut up about it.
Alex grinned, leaning suggestively towards Danny; half an inward groan later, Allen realized that she was wearing one of her more cleavage-kind shirts today. “If you want, you can be my big brother too.”
At the very least, Danny no longer looked interesting in being smug or gloating – the situation clearly made him uncomfortable, and he wanted out. “The back door, Allen.”
"Oh, right." Allen moved. On a whim, he even added a little bow. "It's all yours, now."
If it’s giving you a headache, I’ll just summarize that Roden did it, but he managed to frame Will by sending the police department surveillance video of him entering the room where she was murdered two minutes before the murder, and leaving five minutes after it. Stanford has been bribing/blackmailing the police department in order to keep them from arresting Will. The engagement was done in order for Stanford to have more access to spying on Roden, by having them legally related. Allen was quasi-blackmailed by Stanford, because Stanford said that he would have Will arrested if Allen didn’t do what he wanted, though Allen secretly suspects that Stanford’s chicken-shit on that threat (which, obviously, he is). Still, if his uncle killed someone, he’s all for doing things that might get the true perp caught (rather than the brother that has been more or less like a father to him).
Wow, Roden’s sure been doing a lot for a character that was only in one scene! 0.0 Of course, that’s going to be changing quite significantly in upcoming chapters…