The Things We Can't Change Part Four: The Love Story

The Things

We Can’t

Change

The Love

Story

Kassandra Kush

Dedication

For the love of my life,

whoever you might be

The Things We Can’t Change: The Love Story

Kassandra M. Kush

Copyright © 2014

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition 2015

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

The information in this book is distributed on an as is basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design © Regina Wamba

Mae I Design

Models: Kelly Kush & Kate Luzniak

ALSO BY KASSANDRA KUSH

The Fallen Chronicles

Guardian

Protector

Messenger

The Things We Can’t Change Series

The Prologue

The Struggle

The Healing

The Love Story

The Epilogue

The Lightwood Legacy

The Summer I Gave Up Boys

The Summer I Gave Up Boys: Isaiah’s Story

Coming Soon:

The Fallen Chronicles Book Four: Light Bringer

The Summer I Got Back with Cooper Grace

A The Things We Can’t Change Novel

Staring at the Stars

Shatterproof

Ezekiel

83

I stumble into the apartment and close the door behind me, leaning back against the wood and closing my eyes. I try to catch my breath but I can’t. I can still feel Evie’s lips on my own. Warm and soft, tinged with salt from the ocean and sweet from all the candy we’d been eating. They feel branded on me, a new permanent fixture on my body.

It used to be touching her hair was epic, that just smelling her was a turn on. But a kiss? Her arms around my neck? Body pressed up again me? Holy shit.

Catching my breath is impossible. I can’t come down from the realization that Evie of all people, Evangeline-freaking-Parker, wants me. Wants me. It’s mind blowing.

I hadn’t been able to think of a damn thing to say, either. Not when she pulled back, not when she looked at me with those big purple eyes. Not even when she’d given me a wide smile and said she would see me at school. Nope. Probably for the first time ever, I’d been struck speechless. I’d just watched her climb into her car and drive away before stumbling into my own house.

It’s unfathomable. I can’t believe that she actually made the first move. It’s so unlike her and yet… This is the new Evie. And if I wasn’t so poleaxed by the action I would be proud of her.

Suddenly my face lights up in an uncontrollable grin. Regardless of whatever else, Evie Parker kissed me. Whatever else happens today, I have that. Dom and Koby will shit a brick when I tell them. Thinking of my friends pushes me into action and out of my stupor.

A glance at the clock tells me I only have an hour and a half before school starts. I need a shower, some water, and I’m desperate for some food with low sugar content. I turn around—and there is my dad.

He’s staring at me, hands dangling loosely at his sides. A strange flicker of emotion passes over his face. Relief? Before I can process that startling idea, a mask of anger settles over him and distracts me.

Where the hell have you been? he asks flatly.

Noticed I was gone? I ask coolly, even though I know it’s beyond stupid to bait him. I can’t help but immediately become defensive. Especially since he didn’t even call me once while I was gone. I’m shocked. Or was it because there was no one here to help you mow the complex?

To my surprise, he doesn’t immediately come at me or even point at me. Don’t take that tone with me. I was ready to call the police if you didn’t show up for school today.

Worried about my education? I’m touched, Dad. Especially since you never cared before. I take a step forward, wanting to dodge around him and escape before this devolves further. Especially since I can’t seem to shut my mouth.

I saw the two of you.

My foot is on the first step but I’m turning back before I can help it. Saw us… who?

You and the Parker girl. On the porch. You know… To my shock, Dad actually looks uncomfortable. Kissing.

And? I fold my arms. We drove to Florida, Dad. I think us kissing on the porch is the least of your worries.

I meant to shock him but he doesn’t flinch. There’s just a strange look in his eyes as he says, I know I haven’t been the best dad, Zeke. I’m more aware of that than you might realize. But I’m warning you now from personal experience that you shouldn’t get involved with a woman that’s farther up in the world than you are. Evie Parker and you are very, very different.

My own fists clench before I can stop them. Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence that I can better myself. Love you too, Dad. I bite the words out. The first piece of fatherly advice you want to give and it’s to say don’t aim too high? Nice.

He doesn’t say a word, just regards me sadly. Craziest of all, it actually makes me feel guilty for what I said. But I’ll be damned if I take it back now. Instead I mutter, I need to get ready for school. And I pound quickly up the stairs to the bathroom.

The emotions are all roiling around inside of me and I hate it. They seem to take up too much room inside me and make me feel all tight and too small in my own skin. Anger at my dad and incredibly, guilt as well.

Speaking from personal experience? Is he referring to Mom? Is that what happened? She’d been from a better, richer life and gave it up for my dad, only to cave when a rich doctor crooked his finger at her? Disgust comes up my throat like bile.

I wash away the last of the sand and salt with a sense of regret. My first and only trip to the beach and now all the evidence is washed down the drain. Only memories remain. Memories and maybe something… else. My heartbeat accelerates at the thought of Evie and I wonder what happens next. I can’t be sure.

I have a moment of indecision as I stand before my closet and eventually choose baggy jeans, steel-toed boots and an overlarge white t-shirt. It’s my old look, one I’m not sure is me anymore. Just the way Evie seems to have shed the look she had when she was with Tony—that of a miniature country club wife. But I know today is already going to be rough and I don’t feel like adding to the stress.

Baby steps, just like she and I have always done. I need the comfort of my old disguise, a little distance from others so I can adjust to the changes in myself before showing them to the world. Maybe next week I’ll be ready for casual cargo shorts and more fitted t-shirts.

I almost skip the kitchen when I see that my dad is still there but the draw for a bottle of water is far too strong and I brave it. My plan is to dart in and out and drink it on the go but my dad catches my arm just before I can escape out the back door.

Zeke, he says quietly, and I look straight into eyes that are identical to my own. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just meant-

I jerk my arm away, not wanting contact with him. The anger surges up, even stronger and hotter than before and its nearly more than I can manage. I’ve gotten better but I’m still nowhere near recovered enough to let myself feel something this strong for very long. I need to get out of here.

I know what you meant, I reply stiffly. Don’t try and claw out of the gutter. I get it. I’ll keep that in mind. I bang through the screen door before he has a chance to reply.

It isn’t a far walk to school, only a block down Grandview Avenue and then a block to the left. I reach for my cigarettes as I walk, wanting the familiar act but I come up empty. Of course. I’ve barely been smoking since Evie and I… since we what? Started hanging out? Since I started being slave labor to her? Tried to fix each other? I don’t know what to label us but it’s clear from Evie’s kiss what label we could have.

I want to feel annoyed at all the confusion, at how that one kiss is giving me warm flushes of emotion that I am sure have nothing to do with simple lust. But it takes too much effort. And I’m still filled to the brim with anger at my dad and his whole reaction this morning. And I only know one way to fix it.

I scan the parking lot to be sure but Evie isn’t here yet. I’m a little early since I was so eager to get out of the house. Confident that Evie won’t think I’m ditching her, I head first to the office to get my schedule and then to room 208. It used to be my sanctuary, a place I could think, vent, create, feel. Then it became a place I avoided at all costs.

Now, though… now, partially driven by my promise to Evie and partially by my anger at my dad, I walk in without hesitation. Mr. Bryant is sitting at his desk but leaps to his feet as I approach.

Zeke! Welcome back. What can I do for you?

I hand him my schedule, keeping my face carefully expressionless. I’d like to get this changed, sir.

What’s wrong with it? He accepts the paper and looks at it with raised eyebrows. Good range of classes here, although you know I’m going to say there aren’t-

There aren’t any art classes, I cut in, because I did know what he was going to say. That’s just it. There aren’t any art classes but I need help with my portfolio.

Mr. Bryant holds carefully still for a long moment and then my words finally seem to process. The look on his face should be captured and displayed for all students to see. Hard ass that I am, I can’t hold back a smile.

Really? He sounds dumbfounded and I can’t really blame him. Our last few meetings haven’t been on the best of terms.

Really, I confirm and he’s off, talking about classes and competitions and portfolios.

Mr. Bryant walks me to the office to personally arrange my schedule. Since I already have all my credits but math, chemistry, and English, I find myself in three art classes—drawing, painting, and portfolio—and a study hall that Mr. Bryant is running this semester so I have another class to devote to artwork.

He keeps me so long that the bell rings and he has to write me a pass to drawing. It’s not until I’m seated at the table that I remember with a horrified feeling. Evie. I left her to walk inside all by herself. Shit. How did she do? Did she even make it or was she beaten down before she got to the front doors? Even now I can feel eyes constantly flitting back to me as people stare and gossip. I’d been lucky enough to be here early for the empty halls, and then again with my late pass but Evie would have gone through the brunt of it and I’d failed to be there for her.

I go hot and cold with worry and anger at myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Despite my fear of it being confiscated, I pull my cell phone from my pocket and begin to type out a message below the table ledge.

Hey. I’m so freaking sorry, Evie. I was changing my schedule around to get into art classes and missed the bell. Are you here? Did you make it in okay?

I can hardly focus on the syllabus we’re going over, full of nervous energy. I drum my fingers against the table and tap my pencil until my tablemate—an artsy girl with big glasses, shaggy hair and ultra-skinny jeans—glares at me. Finally, my phone vibrates against my leg and I snatch it out.

I’m totally fine. Koby pulled up next to me and walked me in so it wasn’t that bad. I’m glad you changed to art, did they have spots left?

I give a relieved sigh, knowing I owe Koby one and hoping she isn’t lying to put me at ease.

Mr. Bryant pulled favors so I got into four. When do you have lunch? I’m 5A.

Me too! Can I sit with you?

I want to snort at the question because only Evie would actually ask it, or think that she needed to. No doubt it had taken all her courage to ask. I try to put her at ease.

I’d be offended if you didn’t. See you then?

See you then.

My phone rumbles with a text a moment but since Mrs. Smith is already eyeing me suspiciously, I wait until the bell rings and walk quickly to my next class to get there early. In the extra few minutes before class starts, I check Evie’s message.

Was the staring and whispering this bad last spring while I was gone?

I think of the looks in the hallways that I’ve already gotten, the whispers that are only half-hidden behind cupped hands. Even now, two girls across the classroom are staring at me and one glare makes them instantly look down in fear.

It was worse, I finally reply.

I’m lying.

The painting and drawing helps. Although my first three classes are typical introductions, usual first day stuff, my study hall before lunch actually involves drawing. Mr. Bryant found a book with exercises and asked me to start working through it to start limbering up my drawing muscles.

It helps with the anger, the nerves, the anticipation, the flush of grief at being in the art room with my painting of Cindy. It even helps me deal with all of the stares and rumors. But for the first time ever, drawing fails me. It fails to erase one emotion, not matter how hard I try. I’m stuck with the feeling all period and while it doesn’t feel good, it doesn’t hurt or kill me either.

Anticipation.

At seeing Evie.

That’s what I’m feeling. And I act on it as the bell rings and I am the first out of the classroom. The halls to the cafeteria all seem too long but I finally make it.

She’s waiting for me at the beginning of the lunch line. She’s dressed almost exactly as she was the first time I really noticed her in the dance studio. White v-neck, though long-sleeved this time, jeans, silvery jeweled sandals. Her hair is in big supermodel curls and she looks totally perfect and completely untouchable.

I realize with a jolt we both look like our past selves, the people we were just a year ago. Me in my baggy street clothes, Evie on a pedestal, both of us unapproachable and liking it that way; we didn’t want anyone close enough to see our secrets.

But outward appearances don’t really matter much. Evie has definitely taught me that, evidenced by how she looks now. And oh, how things have changed since that fateful meeting last spring.

That’s clear enough when Evie catches sight of me and smiles broadly. We might look night and day different as far as our clothes are concerned, but the circles under her eyes match mine. I know exactly why they are there. It’s one of our many shared secrets, something that no one at this school can take away or change.

I don’t feel fear. I don’t even feel nervous. There’s a bit of vengeance at my dad but mostly, as I walk toward her, I’m thinking just of Evie and myself.

Hey, I say when I’m standing before her. I reach out and tug her books from her hands, settling them under my arm with my sketchbook.

Hey yourself, she replies, still smiling brilliantly. How were the art classes?

I know she wants a real answer so I admit, Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself. I take a step closer, looking down into violet pools that always catch hold of me, grab me. drown me, don’t ever let me go, just like always. I wanted to ask you something.

Yeah? Ask away.

If I’m not mistaken, her breath hitches as I reach out and take one of her hands into my own. The idea that I have that effect on her pleases the hell out of me.

I was wondering. I take a deep breath, knowing that once the words are out, I can’t take them back. But it’s time. I know how brave Evie had to be in order to kiss me. To face a fear of intimacy and touching so she could go after what she wanted. I have to try too. Because I want this. Do you want to go on a date with me on Friday?

I hadn’t believed it possible, but Evie smiles even wider.

Of course. She breathes the words and my blood runs hot.

I don’t even think about it. Her eyes have me too tightly in their grip. I can smell her hair, freshly washed, fruity and intoxicating, a pull as captivating as any spell. I tug on her hand so she’s forced to step closer, so close our bodies are aligned, touching. Her against me lights me on fire and before I realize it, I’ve leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.

Behind us, the crowded cafeteria explodes.

Evie and I don’t even notice.

Evangeline

84

After Zeke and I make a scene in the cafeteria, the buzzing and stares only get worse. I try to keep my chin up, but as I sit in my sixth period class and feel every eye on me, I admit that this totally sucks. I want to curl up in my chair and disappear into the floor. I want to be back on the beach with Zeke, anonymous and blissfully happy. Away from any reminders of what happened.

I can’t believe everyone is still so obsessed with it, but with a small school populated with many of Tony’s old friends and acquaintances, I suppose it’s inevitable. And Zeke’s kiss at lunch has only fueled the fire and caused everything to flame up higher than it was already burning.

I don’t care, not right now, at least. I’d loved it. Just as I’d loved sitting with him, Dominic, and Koby at lunch. They were calmly accepting of my presence, even asking me about my tattoo and Florida. It was kind of like having older, protective brothers. Koby had been especially sweet while walking me in.

Even so, I’m relieved I have lunch with Zeke. I have a feeling I’ll want that midday break in the weeks to come. I’ll need my fix of him after a long morning, especially with Chantal and Grace in my fourth period class and Jenny in my first two periods. I wish I’d gotten an early out this year but changing my schedule now feels like the coward’s way out. Besides, my last class of the day, Speech, is with Zeke and no way do I want to miss that.

Sixth period seems to drag on endlessly and I tap my pencil as the hands of the clock inch onward. After what feels like a year, the bell finally rings. I leap from my seat and practically vault for the door.

I spy Zeke’s dark head a little further down the hallway, tattooed stars