Page 18 of The Circus

The bell rings. My heart hammers in my chest, waiting anxiously for her to part those pretty lips and whisper anything to me. I’ll take her hate, and her ire—I’ll gladly take anything this girl gives me. She finally releases a shaky breath and says, “Meet me in the library in thirty minutes.”

Leaving art was surprisingly a breeze.All I had to do was hold my stomach and groan a few times, letting Miss Whitman overhear me whispering about that damn tuna fish sandwich. She slipped a hall pass onto my desk and told me to just staygone until tomorrow. I’d winked at Eden as I breezed by, and now I’m alone in the library, eyes skating over dusty tomes as wan, gray light filters in from the high windows.

Seattle Preparatory School sucks ass for a lot of reasons, but the one redeeming quality is the architecture. It’s dark academia at its finest, gothic and melancholy and macabre. The library is as massive as one would be at a university, with a second level overlooking all of the work desks below. The rows and rows of shelves jut high into the air, the ceiling a cathedral, the gray stone walls cold. With the deep green carpet and trimmings, along with dark oak wood accents, it’s cozy and foreboding all at once.

My eyes skim the empty space, the old librarian Mrs. Spencer snoozing behind her desk, her aged computer lifeless. She refuses to use it, the luddite, and a few times she’s accused me of not returning books because her check-out system is trash. Frowning, I glance around again, searching for that little ghost, my stomach twisting. For once in my life, I’m on edge, unable to predict what she could possibly want to speak with me about in such a secretive manner.

Something to do with the circus, most likely. Maybe to tell me to fuck right off and never look at her again, but the way she’d held my gaze at the top of the stairs not long ago tells me that’s not the case.

It’s frustrating, the not knowing, and I wonder if this is how normal people feel daily. If so, fuck it, I don’t want it. But if it means getting closer to Eden…I’ll swallow that challenge whole.

A flash of black and ivory peeks around a bookshelf, and the predatory side of me jolts awake, a slow grin curling on my lips as I prowl toward her, to the back of the library where it’s smothered in inky darkness and the scent of old books. She’s chewing her lip as I draw near, and she backs away between the shelves, her shoulders hitting the stone wall behind herwhen I finally relent my forward momentum, leaning a shoulder casually against the spines and smirking down at her. Those big round eyes blink up at me, a deep, luxurious purple, and I nearly salivate, tempted beyond what I can bear. How did I neverreallysee her before? Probably because I was so wrapped up in my own turmoil, and I’m kicking myself for being such a selfish prick.

“You don’t seem too keen on me, so forgive my confusion as to why we’re all alone where no one can see or hear us.”

She pales a few shades at my subtle threat, throat bobbing as she swallows. My teeth grind together, desire waging a war in my body, the voices screaming and clawing inside my skull, begging for me to sink my teeth into her flesh and draw that precious crimson. At the same time, though, they calm in her presence, a sort of controlled burn simmering through my veins at our proximity.

“It’s not…not like that…umm…” she stutters, fumbling for the words she clearly doesn’t want to say. Cocking my head to the side, I study her, crossing my arms and fighting a grin. It’s adorable, how hesitant she is for whatever reason. When she doesn’t continue but just stares up at me, I quirk my brow, encouraging a more thorough response that I know I won’t get. She’s nervous, and for once in my life, I’m nervous, too.

“Is this about the circus…?” I hedge, and she wags her dainty little hands quickly, her mouth popping open.

“What? No…I mean…just…”

God, she’s cute when she’s flustered. I’ve only slept with a handful of people, none of them wanting a relationship, which suited me just fine. But the thought of making Eden mine, of exploring all of these dirty fantasies I have withher…I doubt I’d ever grow bored. The possibilities with her are somehow endless. I’m not sure how I know, but I justdo, and I want her so badly my heart aches.

“Eden. Just spit it out. I threw knives at you while you were in a fucking g-string?—”

Her cold fingers press against my lips, her eyes wide and darting beyond my shoulder to ensure no one heard me. I smile against her frigid skin, warmth curling pleasantly in my stomach like a cat in the sun. I wish she’d slip those fingers past my lips.

Those eyes return to mine, and she yanks her hand away, as if just realizing she willingly touched me. Arms still crossed, my hands curl into fists at my sides as I fight back the urge to touch her in return, to feel her smooth skin, to warm the chill of her ancient soul.

“Okay,” she breathes, shoulders raising comically, her hands twisting together again as she glares at my chest. “Okay…we graduate soon…”

She hesitates, eyes still pinned to my loosened tie.

“Astute observation,” I encourage with sarcasm. Her eyes flit to mine and away just as quickly, like a little minnow darting to and fro in a murky lake, unaware that a bigger fish is watching, waiting.

Ignoring me, she continues.

“And…high school sucked for me, Teddy.” Her eyes find mine with determination this time, round and beautiful and overflowing with an innocent type of vulnerability that has my hackles raising and my brows knitting together. Is this where she asks me why I never stood up for her? Because…fuck, I don’t have an answer for that, and she deserves one. Guilt is an unfamiliar emotion to me, but I feel it now, so potent that it physically hurts. I hate it, but I deserve it. “I just…before we graduate…I want to have a normal…teenage experience.”

Well, that took a sharp turn in a direction I never saw coming. I think I understand what she’s hinting at, but the moment I open my lips to ask, she rushes out a full explanation, and my heart stops beating as those damning words sink in.

“I…will you…will you sleep with me?”

TWELVE

EDEN

He doesn’t say anything,doesn’t even move, and the tears burning a hole in my throat threaten to burst forth. If he doesn’t say yes, then I’m out of options, because who else would willingly sleep with me? Who else will help me lose my virginity on my own terms before some sick fuck tries to rip it from me? I know I’m desperate, but I also know that if I can do this with him, if my first time is filled with decent memories instead of horrible ones, then I’ll be able to muster the courage to keep going.

There’s no way he’s a virgin, too. I’ve overheard him and Cash making jokes, and I feel confident that at least Teddy will know what he’s doing, because I sure as fuck won’t. Sex and anything to do with it was a banned topic growing up. I was the homeschooled religious freak, locked away inside, wearing nothing but dresses or skirts. I never even knew periods existed until I had one, and my mother rejoiced, saying I was a woman.

I’d been thirteen, and the next week, she introduced me to myhusband, a man affiliated with the church she would die for.

He was forty.

I’d written it in a letter to my father while he was away overseas, and the ensuing custody battle was wrought with pain, but he got me out of the cult that raised me, and ever since I’ve been forced to learn the real world on my own.

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