He rolls his eyes as if to answer my silent question. “Just wait a minute, Stella, please.” His calm tone stresses the final word.
“What?” I ask bitterly, and wait for an answer.
He leans over me and unfurls his perfect smile. “Am I mistaken, or are you still angry with me?” A sliver of torment is in his voice. I let all the accumulated tension in me melt away when he plants an icy kiss on my cheek.
I can’t be upset on a night like this, the night of my party. But I don’t want to let my guard down.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” I say, irritated. I just want him out of my life, now and forever.
Donn stiffens and frowns. He throws me a surly, reproachful look. He knows to what I’m referring, even if I’m not sure what has changed since the last time we met. But Jason’s flower on my windowsill, the hope that he would return, has definitely voided any other option.
“Don’t say that, baby girl,” he says soothingly, drawing out each word slowly. “You still feel something for me.” He tries to reason with me, as if this was an obvious conclusion, by stressing each word he says.
“No!” I cry instinctively. Then I fall silent for a moment, a brief moment. “This is wrong,” I whisper, shaking my head.
Donn keeps staring without a movement, he never takes his eyes off me. He’s sure that with time and effort he can change my mind, but I’m equally sure he’s way off track, although I know I could be convinced to give him another chance. I realize too late that he’s reading my mind.
A hint of a smile appears on his perfect lips, but he backs off as he reflects on my hesitation.
“Is that other guy still around?” he asks, even though he knows it’s better not to make any reference to him, or to mention his name. He knows things about me I have not yet revealed.
He waits for my reply, scrutinizing my face.
Even at that moment, as I begin a new year, any mention of Jason is salt being rubbed into my wounds.
I gasp at the question, surprised, unable to respond.
“You don’t have to talk about it today, if you don’t want to,” he suggests cautiously.
Another blow, another kick in the teeth. He’s reading me again. But in the end, I nod, reassured.
We stare at each other. We can talk now. The tension has almost melted away, but it still floats there, noticeably, in the air like a multicolored feather. Donn is probably the one in control, thanks to his special gifts. It’s as if he can manipulate the feelings of those around him every time he pleases. It’s an obvious advantage for him, a dangerous disadvantage for me.
But, at that very moment, a more pressing thought distracts my mind from him.
His eyes narrow, setting off a shiver down my spine. I notice something different about Donn’s face. His expression changes. His eyes widen for an instant, a rare sight on a man like him. His expression seems to be a cross between amusements and incredulity.
I turn my eyes from his face. Something in his look tells me to avert my gaze. Probably a thin veil of impenetrability and resolve. I follow his gaze, which leads to Tyler.
He takes in his tight gray t-shirt, his shabby jeans, and the stiff way he is leaning on the wooden bar. His face is a mask of serenity, a calm veneer for his emotions.
Donn turns to me again with the same tense look on his face. “It seems that someone doesn’t like me getting too close to you,” he jokes, wearing a gratified smirk. Then he looks behind me and suddenly bursts out laughing.
I smile in confusion. “What is it?”
Donn keeps penetrating me with those eyes. “Your new little friend seems to think I’m not treating you right,” he replies caustically, patting my hand as he throws a surly grimace toward Tyler.
“I don’t think so,” I reply, on the defensive.
“He’s wondering whether or not to come and break up our little disagreement,” explains Donn, irritated. “He thinks we’re fighting.”
“You’re wrong,” I retort, but suddenly I’m not so sure. I can almost feel Tyler’s eyes penetrating my back.
“You think?” asks Donn, with certainty. “I think he’s mad at me for stealing you from your party. And there’s no certainty that I’ll be giving you back.” Jealousy flashes in his eyes. Then his expression changes suddenly to something more thoughtful.
“He’ll survive,” I shrug.
He flashes his crooked breathtaking smile. “At this moment, he hates me with all his heart.”
“You can’t know that.”
“There’s no doubt about that look on his face,” explains Donn.
I turn to look at Tyler, curiously. From the bar, he looks first at me, then at Donn. I have to agree with Donn. My old childhood friend is visibly tense. Then he looks at me again with searching eyes. I turn slowly to Donn.
“He’s starting to get on my nerves,” he declares, his eyes becoming sharp knives. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he adds. All trace of good humor has gone.
I swallow and take my eyes off his intense stare. Tyler is still behind the crowded bar, his face dark. I cannot tell whether Donn has realized that Scott is now also staring at him.
Donn gives Tyler one last evil look before focusing on me as he smiles again, finally relaxed. But his less than friendly intentions still blaze through his eyes like a meteor through the night sky.
I try to ignore him, but make the mistake of letting my eyes cross paths with his again. His magnetism confounds me.
“You’re good at reading people,” I say, trying to break the tension. I see Tyler walk uncertainly to the end of the bar, searching in my face for an invitation to come over and join us. I just nod a reassuring smile at him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Not usually,” Donn replies. “But you are too easy to read.”
“My mother always says that it’s impossible to understand me.”
“Not for me,” he says smiling, his eyes penetrating me once more. Charmed by his gaze, I smile back at him. The ebbs and flows of his crystal ice irises turn me to stone. The clarity of his gaze mesmerizes me, controls me.
It’s impossible to doubt his words, so imbued with sincerity. He’s proved it on more than one occasion, each time showing his ability to read me even more deeply.
“I can’t read anyone here or anywhere else,” Donn admits. “With one exception. You, baby.” He grabs my hand and studies my face. “And everything that you feel for me, I feel for you.” The warmth of his voice burns inside of me with overwhelming intensity.
It’s not easy to know what to say. Should I risk deceiving him? I feel overcome by a strange sensation, as if he were putting my emotions to the test. I shake my head, confused.
“How?”
He looks pleased and his lips approach my ear.
“I know you are happy to see me even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself.” He emphasizes every word, a trace of reproach in his voice.
I look at his hand and try to take back my fingers, which he is determined not to let go of.
“As long as you’re not expecting anything else,” I whisper nervously. Take it or leave it.
He smiles tenderly and pinches my hip with his free hand. “I guess this is enough … for today.”
“Ok,” I mumble. “But don’t forget.”
I lower my eyes uncomfortably. His hand is much colder than mine, even as I feel I ice water running through my veins.
He lifts my chin delicately, so he can look me in the eyes. “That is if you like being with me? Well? Is it unpleasant to be with me?” He weaves his fingers through mine.
“No,” I reply, and I’m not lying. It’s not an unpleasant sensation. How could being with him be unpleasant? I can’t deny it.
That’s right, you can’t say it is!” Donn says, lighting up. “And I’m not giving up. I’ve got all the time in the world.” He squeezes my hand.
This takes me by surprise, and something inside me explodes. It’s my deepest, darkest fantasy. And it hardly matters that what triggers it is Donn’s wicked desire to bring me to agree with whatever his heart desires. It’s also one of my most painful fantasies, after the one about Jason. It is part of a future that has slipped out of my hands forever, one that, in this past year, has never been within reach.
I try to compose myself, but the pain I feel in my chest is my heart breaking just a little more. I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“You shouldn’t waste it with me.”
He’s willing to take me as I am. Damaged goods, with a complicated instruction manual.
“It’s what I want,” Donn replies. “You’re not the one who is damaged goods, I am.” He jerks a thumb toward the bar counter. “And I don’t care what he thinks.”
“I don’t suppose you do.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is what you want right now, and how.” He squeezes my hand again.
“That’s my problem, right?”
“You don’t give up, do you?” I suppress a laugh.
“No. And you know that. You should take me my word for it, sometimes.”
I sigh and take my hand away from his steely grip.
“Why did you come here, Donn?” I move my hair away from my face and on to my back with the hand that is now free from his. But Donn grabs the falling hair and takes a lock of it, twisting it into a ponytail. He traces the hollow of my collarbone with his finger, until he reaches the barely visible white half-moon under my chin.
“The problem is that you and I interpret the same sign differently. From now on, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” he warns, detached and smug.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. At this point, I can concede him joke or two. But it is strange how Tyler was curious about the other scar on my finger and how I got it. The chasm widens. I withdraw my hand again from his grip.
Donn smiles at my reaction, but he can see something is wrong.
“Really, baby. You can’t go on for long without me.”
“Are you kidding?” I frown and try to brush him off.
“Please. Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself,” he whispers in my ear.
“Think you’ll have to?” I glance furtively at him and see that he’s smiling.
“Can’t do any harm.”
“But just what is going on?”
Donn sneers, his expression hardens.
“I have been in talks with the Council and I’ve managed to have a truce called. But I’ve given my word about you, Stella, and that means we’ll have to see more of each other.” His eyes fix mine so intensely that I tear my gaze away. “And Graham wants to see you, before agreeing to the deal.”
I knew it. Save the bad news for last.
“Who is Graham? You said you’ve been in talks with the Council. Defending whom? What do you mean?” I can’t finish my line of questioning before a quiet smile spreads across his lips and I realize that, at least for the moment, my interrogation will lead nowhere.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to understand. It’s not easy to read you.”
I spot Bryan Austin, the guy that worked here before Tyler. He staggers out from behind the bar and weaves his way through the crowd toward me. He must have been saying hello to Tyler, Jeff, and Scott––all deep in conversation on their bar stools. A moment later Bryan is by my side.
“Stella! he exclaims, happily. He hugs me warmly.
“Bryan, thanks for coming!” I hug back.
“I just wanted to spend some time with my pal,” he says enthusiastically, as I slip out of his embrace. “When Scott called and told me about tonight’s opening act, I couldn’t believe it.” His hand reaches out to rearrange my hair behind my back.
I linger on his words, confused.
“What act?” I ask impatiently.
“Didn’t Vuk Wolf tell you?” he asks innocently.
“What didn’t he tell me?” But I can already guess the answer. My voice is filled with emotion and my imagination runs wild. Vuk’s song is my anniversary present. The tune he has perfected in the past month that he gave me taste of when he was sitting on the tree in front of my bedroom window.
Embarrassed, Bryan doesn’t reply. So I decide to ask Donn for a confirmation. I turn to look at him but he has disappeared into thin air. I turn back to Bryan
“Where did Donn go?”
“Who?”
“Donn Brooks,” I clarify.
Bryan gives me a strange look, and it is only now that I notice his appearance, especially his face and eyes.
I’m sure he would just have continued talking about whatever he had in mind if he had not noticed me blush. I am taken aback because, until a short while ago, his eyes have been hazel in color. But now, looking into his topaz irises, it seems incredible that I didn’t notice something peculiar about his face before. Obviously, he won’t let me get away without explaining my sudden shift in attitude.
“Tell me what’s up,” he says, his bright golden eyes the same shade as Tyler’s.
“What’s happened to your eyes?”
“Nothing,” he replies suspiciously, pulling his hair quickly over his forehead as if to offer them protection.
“The color of your eyes today. Tell me what you’ve done.”
“What do you mean?” he asks seriously. His voice is low and hoarse. His face hides something that his lips will not reveal.
“Your eyes were a different color the last time I saw you. And now they’re topaz. Amber.”
“Yeah, I know,” he confesses. He swallows and holds his breath. “You think we can change the color of our eyes?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” I’m intrigued.
“Well, a human being can’t change his eye color in a natural way, know what I mean?” Bryan moves closer as he speaks, and nails me with his intense golden eyes as if trying to tell me a secret that cannot be told.
My mind goes blank. I can’t even remember how to breathe. My breath comes back only when I turn my gaze elsewhere. Bryan shakes his head as if nothing happened, and his movement catches my attention. “Maybe you don’t know, but now you can get your eye color changed.”
“How?”
“Iris tattoo.” His gold eyes blaze.
“Getting your eyes tattooed? That’s crazy!” I exclaim.
Just at that moment, the lights go down and Bryan settles into a seat at my table to watch the show. He smiles at me, and his eyes manage to glow despite the dark.
I look out the window, consumed with guilt, as we wait for the act to take the stage. It doesn’t seem right to encourage Donn like that. It doesn’t matter that I’ve tried to make myself clear, and maybe I should have explained better where my head is. Maybe then he would realize he needs to forget about me.