Page 4 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Greenly chuckles. “Just come. You won’t regret it,” she says before they walk off arm in arm as if they’ve just accomplished something they planned before I showed up.
I examine their backsides until they’re almost at the end of the hallway.
“You should go.”
I whip my face toward the voice and find Hercules slamming his locker shut. He strolls in Mike’s direction.
What a physique. Did he hear Greenly say I’m always staring at him?
He’s not out of sight yet. My lips twitch as I search for the courage to say something. And then…
“Hercules?” I call before I realize I’m doing it. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion when he turns to face me. I fight the urge to hyperventilate as I put on a smile to make myself appear less nervous than I actually am. “Um, thanks.”
Gosh, that sounded strained.I clear my throat.
“For what?”
My hear flutters. He asked me a question. It’s the first one he’s ever asked me. “In the classroom. You said congratulations. Thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you?” I widen my eyes, feeling foolish because I already said that.
He nods. “See you tonight.” Then he turns and walks away. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I’m still staring at the space he left behind now that he’s out of sight.
Finally, I’m able to release the tension in my body, and I take a deep sigh of relief. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to see him tonight. No bodyguards, no party. But I walk away from my locker, grinning big. I did it. I said something to him first, and he responded. Hercules Valentine replied to me!
Chapter Three
Access
Paisley Grove
Iput on skinny jeans and a white off-the-shoulder blouse with ankle boots. It’s now 9:59 p.m. I hurry up and zip a few things into my black leather jacket pockets—my keys and cellphone, the thin wallet that contains my ID, the one credit card my parents allow me to keep, and forty dollars just in case I need emergency cash. Then I walk quickly, making sure no one sees me, to the west-facing exit. Slipping out is as easy as I thought it would be. I didn’t douse myself with perfume because I didn’t want to leave my scent in the air. It’s not as if anyone expects me to sneak out thought.
When I make it outside, the cool air of night feels like a sigh of relief against my face. I race through the quaint garden, out the gate to our private alley, and don’t slow until I reach the exit to the sidewalk. There are so many people walking by tonight that I relax a bit as I use my key to unlock the gate and then close it behind me.
Feet sealed to the concrete; I vacantly watch passing faces. I’m aware that it’s not too late to go back inside, drink a cup of tea with milk, and curl up in bed. But then I envision Hercules’s gorgeous face. Missing a chance to be in his presence tonight, if only for a second, is not in the cards. That’s why I start walking in the right direction.
The venue isn’tthat far from where I live. The short distance doesn’t give me much time to change my mind. It feels exhilarating to be outside, walking alone under the cover of night. I haven’t been able to do this since Treasure’s fake kidnapping. The pungent odor of stale trash, smoke from the subway system, fried food, coffee shops, rat piss, and other variables doesn’t make me wrinkle my nose as much as it did when I first arrived in the city. I’m not sure if being immune to the exotic scent is a good or bad thing.
I make it to Fifth Avenue, and that’s when I start recognizing faces. We’re all heading in the same direction. The party is being held at the trilevel penthouse of a guy named Darby Harborne. It’s noted that there will be no adult supervision. However, attendees aren’t to stray from the upper floor and rooftop. The more people I see, the more nervous I become. A line of expensive cars is stopped in front of the building. Some people are being let out, and others are handing off their vehicles to valet attendants.
Feeling like a fish out of water, I follow those who appear to be students to a long line and take my place in it. Two burly security guards stand at glass doors to the left of an elegant empty lobby lit by crystal-encrusted chandeliers. Apparently, we’re not going in through the main lobby. We’re being shuffled into a private hallway. This entire scene is not what I had in mind. First of all, it appears as if I’m the only person who came without friends or a date. Second of all, I didn’t know I’d have to wait, alone.
In retrospect, this has truly been the loneliest year of my life. That truth slams into me like a ton of bricks. Maybe I should go home and forget I ever knew these people. I take notice of them bouncing around excitedly, happy to be around each other. I sigh, thinking I should give up my fantasies about Hercules Valentine. He’s never going to be into me anyway.
“Listen up!” a man’s voice booms.
We all stretch and angle our necks, trying to get a better view of the muscular security guard.
“Your party has reached capacity. When one comes out, I’ll let one in!”
Groans erupt. I’m sort of relieved, thinking the announcement is a sign that I belong at home.
“Is that you, Paisley Grove?” one of the girls standing behind me asks. I turn to see who she is, and my gaze latches on to Greenly. “No waiting for us, chickadees,” Greenly says, strolling past the long line as if she’s the queen of the universe.
If the black beaded dress she’s wearing were a half inch shorter, we would have a clear view of her vag. Her hair is longer and thicker than it was today in the hallway. She’s added extensions, making herself even more glamorous than usual.
