Page 27 of Shadow Dance

Callum comes up behind me, resting his hands on my hips. “You ready, baby? We should go so we don’t miss our reservation.”

“Okay,” I say, blinking away the tears. “I’ll be right in.”

It’s our anniversary, and we’re having dinner at Dia’s, a beloved East Bay classic. It’s hard to get reservations there, but when I told Callum I’d always wanted to go, he found a way. Gestures like that give me a glimpse of the old him. They remind me of why I fell in love with him.

Then again, he hasn’t been home in days. Stuff likethatreminds me of why I’m falling out of love. The kid I once loved has grown into an entitled, arrogant man. Even his eyes are harder.

A gale of wind shrieks across the hillside, and I shiver, finally noticing how damn cold it’s gotten. So much for my idyllic fall afternoon. Picking up the empty mug that still smells of bergamot, I turn to go inside, pausing at the scene on the other side of the glass. Callum and Griffin are discussing something over by the window, and Mac is sprawled across the leather sofa, watching TV. Jaime’s on the armchair beside him, but he’s texting, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. His hair has gotten longer, and it curls a little now.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s as ruthless as the thugs he cavorts with. I like to pretend that he’s different from them because of how he acts with me, but I’ve seen firsthand the damage his fists can inflict. Like the brawl the boys got into when we were all in LA over the summer, or the time some perv groped my ass while we were waiting at a crowded crosswalk in the city. Jaime didn’t hesitate to pop him in the face. I know that his weapons are not just for show, that he’s used them and will use them again.

Stepping inside, I cross through the living room and place my mug in the kitchen sink. Callum clears his throat, suddenly at my side. “I left you something on your dresser. Why don’t you go look before we head out.”

I’m not in the mood for games or surprises, but I go, not wanting toruin the mood. My mind wanders over what he could’ve gotten me this time. I have more jewelry and clothing than I know what to do with, and my phones are upgraded at whimsy. iPads, laptops, fitness watches … he tried to switch out my Honda for a Mercedes like his when I moved to Oakland, but I drew the line. Good thing, too, seeing that I don’t drive at all now.

To this day, I’m not sure if nearly getting run off the road was intentional or not, but it doesn’t matter. Callum’s so paranoid that he’ssureit was a message from one of his many enemies. You’d think he’d do a little self-reflection, examine his life choices, but he just digs his heels in.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

I flick on the lamp in the bedroom, giving my eyes time to adjust to the dim light. There on my dresser, in a small, felt box, sit a pair of diamond earrings. There’s a tiny pink baggie of coke on the dresser, too. It’s so gaudy and gross next to the earrings that I almost laugh.

But then my stomach twists painfully, and for a second, I almost consider snorting it. It would be so easy, and it would make everything feel light and all right. But the urge passes just as quickly as it arrived. It’s been a month since I promised Jaime I’d stop, since I promisedmyself. I remind myself of the facts: as good as the high feels, the comedown feels several times worse. I don’t like who I am when I’m strung out, and I definitely don’t like who I am when I’m fiending.

And maybe it shouldn’t matter so much, but Jaime treats me differently when I’m like that, in ways I hate. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend these days, which isn’t saying much. But still. I respected him before I even liked him, and now that I’m beginning to know him more, I like him a lot. I doubt he means to, but he’s chipping away at the ice that’s been building up around my heart for the past year. Maybe longer than that.

I’m thawing, and it hurts.

Yet part of me fights to retain some of that protective covering, that numbness—just in case things change. Jaime might take care of me, but his true allegiance is to my boyfriend.

I can’t ever forget that.

I stare at myself in the mirror, at my pale skin and the circles beneath my eyes, masked for now by concealer. I sleep for hours and hours, andyet I never feel rested. Sighing, I put the earrings on and take the cocaine to the bathroom, where I flush it down the toilet.

“Good?” Callum asks, when I join him and Griffin at the front door.

Forcing a smile, I nod. He fingers my ears approvingly, smug and smiling, more interested in the bling in my ears than the dying light in my eyes.

I wonder when he stopped really seeing me. It was probably gradual, but there must’ve been moments.

I rememberwhen sex was exciting. Fulfilling. Now I usually just fake it. It’s not even that Callum disgusts me, because he doesn’t. Not physically, anyway. I just don’t feel connected to him anymore. It always feels like he’s a million miles away, like he’s enjoying himself but not enjoyingme.

Tonight, though, he’s particular about making me come. To celebrate our anniversary, I guess. I shut my eyes and then suddenly it’s Jaime I see. His dark, sparkling eyes, his lush mouth. The way he looks at me in the car sometimes when he thinks I don’t notice.

Gasping, I cling to the images, letting them carry me where I need to go. Callum comes right after. He jumps up and disappears inside the bathroom the second he’s finished, and I yank the sheet up, turning onto my side.

Now…now… I feel disgusted. With Callum, but with myself, too. Is it crossing a line if it’s only in your head? It is. I know it is.

“Hey,” he says when he crawls back into bed. “Mae.”

I turn over again, looking at him in the almost dark. “What’s up?”

“You know I love you, right?” He asks me this all the time. The fact that he has to ask should tell him something.

“Yeah.” I chew my lip, wondering if I should tell him what’s on my heart. It used to be so easy. “Why?”

“You seem kinda sad all the time,” he says.

If he’s in a listening mood, then I’m down to talk. “I am kinda sad.”

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