Page 77 of Damnation
He closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He bowshis head, narrows his eyes, and frowns. I can’t tell if he’s irritated or in pain. I do see that he can barely stand, and he’s got an unlit cigarette pressed between his lips.
I examine him carefully from head to toe. I fold my arms and ask, “Have you been drinking?”
He massages his temples and answers me with a nod. He rests his head back against the door and looks at me through his eyelashes, chin high. “Am I grounded?” he taunts.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say simply through gritted teeth. I swallow the lump of bitterness in my throat and try to keep a lid on the anger that threatens to explode out of me.
“I’ll bear that in mind for next time.” He gives me a wink as he fumbles in his jeans for his lighter. He eventually finds it and lights the cigarette with a sneering, extremely punchable look on his face. And I can feel my palms tingling from nerves. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“Where have you been?” I repeat more steadily.
He takes a drag from his cigarette and replies with a vague hand gesture. “Here and there.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Did you drive like this?”
He sighs, emitting a barely audible growl. “Knock it off. It’s late. My head’s killing me, and the last thing I need is to be asked a bunch of fucking questions. I’d like a little quiet.” He bends over to take off his shoes, tripping over his own feet.
So we have an argument, he vents all his anger at me in the worst possible way, then he goes and gets drunk. He stays out all night and now he’d “like a little quiet”? Like hell!
“And I would like an answer.”
“Fuck, I can’t stand you when you’re pushy like this. I was at ClubSeven, and no, I didn’t drive. Happy now?”
My heart stops momentarily. He left me here alone so he could go get drunk and cut loose at the same club where I just found him with Shana. And even though I make an enormous effort not to let my imagination run away with me, I just can’t do it. I swallow thickly asI feel the familiar burning sensation in my eyes. I bite my lip to try to stop my trembling.
Don’t cry, Vanessa. Don’t you cry.
He gives me a long impassive look, saying nothing, just smoking. In fact, I can’t even really say for sure that he’s actually looking at me. He looks so…hazy.
“Was she there too?” I ask, regretting it even as it comes out of my mouth.
Thomas licks his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and then bites it. He appears to be thinking hard. “I’m fucking angry, and I’ve had a few too many. But I didn’t forget that I’m with you.”
I feel every joint in my body relax at once.
“Can we talk?” I whisper, approaching him slowly.
Thomas lets his arms fall loose to his sides. “For what purpose? You’re still gonna do what you want to do, right? You always do. All the time, you wanna know where I am, what I’m doing, and who I’m doing it with. But when it comes right down to it, I never get to know what you’re doing.”
I grimace. “You always know what I’m doing!”
“Bullshit. I know what you’re doing when you’re with me, but when you’re not, I don’t know anything. At the club, you made up your mind about Shana and me after watching us for, what? Five seconds? And then, without even giving me the chance to explain, you drew your own conclusions and decided that grinding on the first person who came along was the right thing to do. You invite your little partner in crime over here, conveniently forget to tell me, and then when I get home, I catch him in bed with you. And now I find out you’ve been seeing Logan and you’re hiding the fact that you’re going to tutor him.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, takes off his sweatshirt (which reeks of alcohol and sweat), and tosses it onto the desk. “I don’t know shit about what you do, much less why you do it. What I do know is that if I did even one of those things, you would have pointed your little finger at me and called me a heartless bastard.”
He goes over to the bed, and for a moment, I think he’s decidedto put an end to this conversation by going to sleep. Instead, he grabs a pillow and heads back toward the door. I am even more agitated. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs.”
Is he joking?
“What? I don’t want you to go downstairs, Thomas.” I reach for him, grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry about everything. About the misunderstanding with Alex and about dancing with that guy the other night. It was a stupid, childish thing to do. I know, I get that. But I’m sorry. And I’m extremely sorry about this whole thing with Logan too. I swear, I was going to tell you, but…”
“You were going to tell me? When were you going to tell me?”
“In the kitchen, right before your phone rang…I was just about to tell you!”
Thomas gives a sarcastic snort. “You were only going to tell me because you had no other options. You expect transparency, sincerity, and honesty from me, but where is any of that from you, huh?”
I stare fearfully at him, profoundly shocked by the truth of what he is saying. I’ve been so angry at him all night. And now, I’m just angry at myself. I’m just so stupid. A stupid, pathetic screwup who probably deserves to spend the night alone feeling sorry for herself. Because the truth is, I always end up making the wrong call. And it’s for that reason that, when he walks out the door, I let him.
