Need-to-know
1912 Words
Jordan
Percy eyes me when I pull open the car door and hold it until she sits down. She looks just as pretty in a ponytail and jeans as she did that night in the tightest skirt ever or with a mustard-stained sweater.
“Why the side-eye, Persephone?”
“You look strange in normal people’s clothes.” She takes in my sweatshirt and jeans.
“Is this a ploy to get me somewhere to ax murder me? You’re not really taking me to your parents’ house, right?”
One eyebrow goes up dramatically, and I watch a little twinkle in her eyes, even though the rest of her face stays impassive.‘close to smiling.’. I bet when she does, it’s beautiful. I saw her smile at the bouncer. Swallowing hard, I press my fingers around the steering wheel and try to focus on the road, but my gaze involuntarily moves to Percy again.
There is the tiniest scar cutting through her left brow. Almost invisible. I curl my hands tighter around the leather. Otherwise, I might reach over and try to touch her. And that would end badly for me. I managed to convince her to agree to this, but I know I still have to prove to her that it was a good idea. Getting handsy because I can’t control my fires is the worst possible thing I could do. Not to mention, she would probably cut a not-too-crucial body part off if I did.
My mind jumps to what Percy said about being in the papers. As soon as I left that diner and made sure she got in her car ok, I called Khai. Had him look into what she told me. That folder is still sitting on my couch, unopened. Call me a coward, but my plan sounded so great in my head. If I read this and find out that making her look like the perfect girl and getting the flies off my back, all while getting to know her, will be nearly impossible… I think I might have a nervous breakdown.
Or maybe that’s just in my head. For years, my siblings have looked up to me to fix things, and my parents had faith in me to use the publicity my 'job' gave me for something good and never to harm my family. Now, this happened, and I’m supposed to fix it, but all that goes through my head is that I don’t care as long as I find an excuse to be close to her. And the longer I focus on my spiraling thoughts, the stronger the urge to flee them with my small ‘ticks.’
The last piece I practiced with the boys floats behind my eyes in bright colors, and I have to focus on the road ahead so as not to get distracted by the huge floating notes.
I imitate the trumpet solo from the original, looking out the windshield. When I turn toward Percy again, there is an incredulous look on her face. Her hands froze halfway down to her bag, which she dropped by her feet.
“What was that?”
I shrug, feeling the skin on my cheeks heating up slightly. “My brain just… goes there sometimes.” Percy takes in my features, then it looks like a light goes on behind her eyes, and I see something close to interest in them.
She leans back in her seat and pulls at some lint on her leggings. “Mmh, first thing I can respect about you.”
I let out a laugh. “That my brain doesn’t listen sometimes and shoots weird one-liners from different music genres at me and then continues to play them until I sing along or at least tap the beat? That’s respectable?”
“Yeah.”, she says, nodding.
“Mmmh, I thought it was my killer abs or the dimples.”
Percy snorts. “You should stop listening to every little thing your groupies say.”
“Is that so?”
“Definitely.”
I can’t suppress the smile at her firm tone and thoughtful nod. It’s quiet for a moment before she looks up again, her hands still buried in her lap.
“Mine does that with … words, you know?” Her eyes find mine before Percy focuses on her reflection in the review mirror. A few wisps of her blond hair loosened from the tight ponytail she’s wearing.
“They get bigger and bigger in my head, the words I mean- and I swear they have different colors, taste different. Especially around new people, I try to hold them in, but then it’s like in one of those sci-fi movies where some lump or stone forms in a person’s throat… and then they have to cut it out, and it’s all gory and disgusting? Yeah, that’s what it feels like when I don’t get to say what I mean to. My brain is rarely quiet, so….”
Percy shrugs before turning to stare out the window. Then, her head suddenly whips around to me. Her eyes are wide, and there is the slightest hint of pink on her cheeks.
I see her left hand go to something around her right wrist but stop just before she can reach it.
“If you ever…”
“What? Tell anyone about this?” She gives a hard, almost wooden-looking nod.
Bile rises in my throat, and the thought of her convinced I’d betray her trust like that makes me want to pull over right now and force her to tell me how to make it right. Show her that I would NEVER go behind a person’s back and share what they’ve said to me in private.
“I wouldn’t do that. Never.”
“OK.”
One-word answers again. She does that when she tries to avoid being honest, right? She feels so uncomfortable around me that she doesn’t ramble. F*CK, I’m already screwing this up.
When the silence stretches for a few minutes, I see Percy reach down again and pull something out of her bag. Not wanting to stare, I focus on the road— a soothing sound of soft ‘pling’s added to my mate’s now less agitated breathing. The whole atmosphere is almost calming. So quiet. I can hear the wheels on the asphalt, the soft bristle of something against an uneven surface. Wait a minute… It’s quiet.
I listen within me, but my fires aren’t raging. Feels more like a glow now. ‘Perfect to bake potatoes in the dying fire’ kind of heat. For the first time in years, my head is quiet. Can’t remember when it last was like this, without me having to play my drums 'till my whole body hurt, to be honest. My gaze pins on Percy, and I swallow when I take in the focused calm on her face while her elegant, agile fingers move knitting needles almost inaudibly. The purple and pink striped thing she’s knitting reminds me of the grinning cat from Alice in Wonderland.
Then it clicks…hmm, “So that’s what that smell was.”
“What? What smell?” My mate sniffs a few times, her nose wrinkling most adorably. “Oh god, are the leather seats passing fumes?! I knew it!”
I chuckle at her fake, outraged expression and see the twinkle in her eyes again.
“What do you have against the wondrous smell of yarn, big boy?”
“Nothing. Just reminds me of someone.” I smile to myself, which has Percy drop her needles slightly.
“Of who?”
“You.”
“Gee, you need to find a different topic to entertain you.”, she scoffs.
“Couldn’t if I tried,” I reply in my most annoying, tried and tested sing-songy voice.
“Doesn’t seem to me like you’re trying hard at all.” Percy regards me for a moment. “Is discipline- is discipline important to you? I mean, with being a musician and working strange hours…”
Here we go with the deep topics. “I’m great at compartmentalizing.”
“Which means?”
“I'm disciplined when it comes to my career and my family. Other things, not so much. Generally, if I don’t enjoy it or don’t see the point, it will be hard to convince me to stick to it.”
Her head c*cks ever so slightly. “Like with a relationship.” I nod. And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like I just met her or like she’s still reluctant to talk to me about anything. Something in those hard but understanding blue eyes that change to green when you’re not looking draws me in. It makes me feel better and like opening up to HER is the best idea I have ever had. But then she stiffens, almost turns away, and I know I’ve lost her for the moment.
“Well, good thing I have the terms of our agreement written down. Shouldn’t be too hard to stick to those, right?” Percy c*cks an eyebrow at me, and I lean back a little in my seat.
“If you say so.”
“Yes. Set parameters are helpful. Lists are helpful. They make things efficient.”
“Goddess forbid if we weren’t efficient.” I fakely blow out a breath, and if I have learned anything about my mate in the last ten minutes and our conversations at the diner combined, I’m lucky I’m driving. Or I would be pulling a knitting needle out of my arm now.
“I’m driving, sweat pea,” I say, my tone warning. “ And I’m sure you don’t have a death wish.”
“No, but you must because you still insist on calling me that.”
My mate glowers at me from the passenger seat, the needle raised slightly like a dagger, ready to poke me.
“All right, Persephone. I promise not to use that heinous but very fitting nickname again in the foreseeable future and let you return to your leisurely activity.”
Her brows furrow again, the small scar now almost horizontal.
“It’s not a ‘leisurely activity,’” she counters, pointedly drawing the air quotes. “I’m on a deadline.”
I can’t help the raised brow when I look over from the road ahead.
“A deadline?”
“Yup.”
“Care to elaborate.”
“Nope.”
Percy goes back to quietly moving her needles and ignoring me. “Part of condition #4: No Jordan Araújo anywhere in my personal space when it is not absolutely ‘need-to-know’ for our little charade. This is work and unrelated to anything you could use… or at least I won’t let you. Therefore, none of your business.”
I love it when she says my name. She’s the first person apart from my family and friends who doesn’t completely butcher it.
“Hmm.”
“Sorry.” I chuckle at the pleasantry added for good measure. So she does mind that she sometimes sounds rude.
“Even I know you don’t mean that.” Shrugging, she focuses back on her work, but now I’m… I don’t know. I enjoy the silence, but I also just want to hear her voice…
Percy sits quietly again now, her needles clicking the only sound besides the engine.
She’s not making this easy.
- Writer
