It's after we break away from another heated kiss that we finally realize another presence in the room. We gaze at the short and plump man, who scowls us. He swiftly warns that the museum will be closing in five minutes and to start on heading out. We comply and stand to leave, when he irritably stops us and asks if we've stolen anything.
I bite back the urge to make a sarcastic remark about how I don't think I'd be able to stuff a entire painting in my pocket. Instead, I shake my head no and so does Liam. He brings me closer when we start making our way to the exit and glances over his shoulder, making a loud and obnoxious comment that he obviously wants the man to hear.
I can't help but let out a laugh and look over my shoulder as well to witness the stubby man's reaction. He turns a bright shade of red that I never thought existed before he spins around on his heel and marches off in the opposite direction, mumbling on how he hates teenagers.
And then we run off. Hands intertwined and letting out laughs and rude remarks on how the man appeared to represent a tomato.
It isn't till later on in the night that we split and I ride home with my dad. The car ride is silent. Probably because he's absorbed in his thoughts and so am I.
Mostly about Liam and I, and my dad's confession.
That's the only thing that seems to be on my mind as the next two days pass. I visit Liam's place frequently, and also the art room at school, where I hurry to finish the canvas. Liam helps me as best as he can.
He also tries to bring up the discussion of what I said to him at the art museum. About my dad and Tara. I refuse to acknowledge it though. I made the decision I wouldn't speak of it that night I arrived home from dinner with my dad.
But that wasn't really a surprise to Liam, I imagine. Because usually when I'm confronted with a problem I'm normally not able to deal with, I ignore it. Though that really doesn't stop the pestering thoughts about the whole situation.
I find myself wondering about my dad's new women he's trying to replace my mom with. I don't know who she is, but I've come to a conclusion that I don't like her.
My dad had asked the next day when I had some free time to perhaps go and have dinner with him and Tara. I didn't respond. I simply shrugged and swallowed down a sneer at the mention of my dad's new lover.
I mainly resisted acting mean because of the way my dad had been acting. He was so.. happy, lately. He would smile and laugh and spend hours on the phone like some love stricken teenager.
It made me sick.
But I couldn't find it in me to rain on his parade. Because in those brief two days I saw the old him. He had even returned to his previous routine. Getting up early, making breakfest for the two of us and putting in effort around the house. Even his behavior changed towards me.
He would try to converse with me. Nothing too significant, just questions about my day and how school is going.
I never did respond. All I did was stare at him with narrowed eyes and wonder if he'd go back to his old ways after this new woman broke his heart.
It wasn't too long after that I felt some sort of guilt leak into my conscious at the cruel thought. I should be happy, right? That my dad was finally functioning again? But I wasn't. And I don't think I'd ever be.
I decided it wasn't good to linger on the thought and so I focused on other things. Mostly with the whole canvas.
In fact, I had only the next two days to finish it since the play would premier this Saturday. So that's why directly that Thursday, after failing another one of Mr. Matthews math test, I start my journey down the hall and to the art room, where I hope Liam is already located.
Of course, I try to convince myself the only reason I hope Liam is there is so we can get to work. But it doesn't work. I know I've been acting like some love sick puppy the past two days, by savoring every touch and kiss that we've been sharing since the art museum.
We haven't completely talked about our relationship status, but it's safe to say we are no longer.. well, friends, I guess? Then again, Liam and I were never friends. I'm not quite sure what we were. But whatever it was, it's done now. And I guess Liam is my boyfriend.
Which feels incredibly weird saying. Or well, thinking. I haven't exactly told anyone about it. I didn't have anyone to tell first off, and second, I couldn't tell anyone even if I wanted to. We had to do our best to keep the relationship secret as possible. Mainly from Adam and Alpha Beckett.
We still weren't sure how we were going to handle the Alpha Beckett situation, anyway. Everything sounded so stupid and irrational. And I mean, we had our lives here to take into consideration. We had to think about it long and hard.
Though we didn't have much time. The mating ceremony was scheduled in about three weeks, and Mrs. Beckett was freaking out about it. Every time I passed Adam's house, she'd come scurrying out and asked if I preferred a pink dress or white. Or if I liked tulips more then sunflowers. Or if I wanted my hair straight or curled. Each time I'd give her a grim smile and tell her to pick. It seemed to satisfy her, since she'd squeal and clap. Then dash back inside, miraculously not tripping in her high heels.
She was taking the whole thing way over the top. Acting like it was some type of wedding. Then again, mating ceremonies were sorta like a wedding.
I mean, in the eyes of the pack you were married. And then directly after you did complete the ceremony, you were expected to, well, consummate. And then give birth to a child shortly after. That's how it worked with my parents and why my mom had me so young.
I honestly don't know why she would even comply to that. She was only sixteen. The same age I am. How could she possibly be ready to mate and have a child when you're so young? Didn't she want more to life than just a pack?
Then again, I don't think my mom would even have argued against it. She was always so soft and gentle and.. understanding. Angelic, really. Everything I never grew up to be.
Though, yes, I resembled her greatly with looks wise, I didn't have a ounce of her personality. I was like my dad. Hard headed, sarcastic, and quite frankly mean at times. That's why I can't just sit back and accept the fact Adam and I are supposed to mate. Someone who I knew I could never come to love. Nor have a child with.
But I guess my mom and dad knew they were going to inevitably fall in love. They were true mates. Something so hard to find today. Mainly because your mate could be on the other side of the world and you'd never know. Never get the chance to find them, either.
I admit, I'd taken Liam for granted at first. I was scared. I still am. I mean, what person wants to accept the fact that someone else is going to intrude your life and discover all your flaws? And maybe that's where my mom was brave. Another thing I exactly wasn't.
I mean, I ran away from every little problem that I encountered ever since I was twelve. It was my coping mechanism. So was confining all my emotions in and putting on a strong front. Though that lately has been crumbling away. And I hated it.
Yeah, I am a coward, but I don't want the world to know. I want to be strong. I need to be strong to hold myself together. Though sometimes my conscious nags at me that Liam can do that for me. Just like I can do it for him.
The thing is, I don't want to rely on Liam. I mean, what if something happened? What if... Liam did actually get hurt in the process of taking down Alpha Beckett? What if I lost him like I'd lost my mom?
Man, God knows I can't just simply accept the loss of someone and move on. I think that's been obvious since I'm still grieving the death of my mother who passed away four years ago. Going on five soon.
Basically, what I'm saying is, I don't want to set myself up to get hurt. I know I'd lose it if Liam actually died. Maybe I wasn't bound to keep Liam. Maybe he wasn't bound to keep me.
I mean, we had the whole force of the world working against us. With Alpha Beckett and Adam, and just about Liam being a rogue. Once it was made evident Liam had a mate, there would be a target painted on my back.
As dramatic as it sounded, we could both lose our lives. Lose each other. That was one of my biggest fears. Along with not being able to keep Liam.
The thought was toxic. And once it leaked into my brain, I couldn't get it out. It had blurred my whole hope of somehow getting out of this situation I was in with Adam.
Before I can think about any longer, I push away the venomous thought. Just like I'd been doing for a while now.
I turn down the hall that leads to the art room with a sigh, digging my hands into the pockets of my jacket and wandering into the art room, where I see Liam hunching over the canvas with his face twisted into a puzzled expression.
I laugh. It causes Liam to glance over his shoulder at me. "What's got you looking so constipated?" I question and drop my bag by the door, edging closer to where he is.
He gives me a grim smile, rather then laughing like I thought he would. "Nothing. Just deep in thought. What took you so long?"
"It must not be nothing if it's got you looking so distressed," I say, ignoring his previous question. "Thinking about Beckett or something?"
He shakes his head hesitantly. "No. Just something else. Don't worry about it."
"Why would I waste my precious time worrying about you?" I say, in somewhat of a playful tone. Though I'm curious about what's got him so hung up, I decide not to push it. He'll tell me when he wants, I guess.
I'm glad when a smile breaks across his face at my remark. "Because you're my girlfriend."
I hate to admit it, but just at the world 'girlfriend' my chest tightens and I suck in a sharp breath.
I quickly determine I'm just having some bad heart burn and unattractively snort, "Don't remind me."
Liam chuckles and yanks me down onto the floor with him, quite roughly, before situating me on his lap, "Will you ever stop being rude to me?"
"No," I tease and edge my face closer to his, titling my head with a small smile on my face.
He smirks and leans closer to me, his minty breathing fanning over my lips. I meet his intense gaze and brush my lips with his, unconsciously closing my eyes and savoring the heat of his skin on mine. Something that I had quickly come accustomed to in just two days.
His lips brush against mine ever so faintly, just a ghost of a kiss, and I'm about ready to surrender and just press my lips to his. But the moment is undoubtedly ruined when Liam dumps me off of his lap and onto the spread out canvas.
"Then you don't get a kiss." He states firmly and then turns away. I glare at the back of his head and kick him in the calf.
"Jerk," I hiss and sit up.
He looks back at me and smirks before grabbing a paint bottle and tossing it to me. "Yeah, yeah. Now get to work."
That's how we spend the next day. Constantly teasing and arguing over the stupidest things while working on the canvas.
I'm somewhat disappointed when we finally finish the last canvas, mainly because we won't be spending any more time in the art room together. Somehow, it's become our little sanctuary.
But I'm also incredibly relieved that I don't have to work on the canvas anymore and not have the stress of completing them over my head.
On Saturday, Liam and I fold away everything that we previously touched in the art room. And once I spot Ms. J, I reluctantly hand her over the key and bid her a farewell, ready to take off with Liam back to his place, but Ms. J clearly has a change of plans.
"I know this is incredibly sudden, but do you mind helping hanging the canvas, Ronnie? We're short on helpers."
From beside me, Liam grunts. I'm far more polite, so of course I resist the urge to let out my groan of distaste. "Sorry, Ms. J but we got-"
She quickly cuts me off, pushing up her glasses from the bridge of her nose with a frantic look in her eyes. "Please, Ronnie? If you help out, I'll let you have access to the art room whenever you please. Besides, you put it to more use than the other students."
Ms. J really knows how to win me over. That offer is just too tempting to pass up.
With a sigh, I glance over at Liam who is frowning and nudge him in the side, catching his attention. "Head on back to your place. I'm gonna stay here for a bit and help out."
Ms. J squeals excitedly and grasps my arm, tugging me in her direction. "Come on! We're on a tight schedule!"
I send a fleeting glance to Liam as Ms. J yanks me off with her. I expect Liam to pop up once I arrive to theater, but I'm surprised when he doesn't even make an appearance. He knows Adam is in the play. Of course he does. He's been intervening in my life since day one.
I decide not to give it much more thought and instead resort putting my energy into my work. With help from a few other guys, we manage to hang the canvas and set up the props. Though I didn't agree to that part of helping. There wasn't much room for argument when Mr. Taylor swooped in and started demanding why we were taking so slow.
It wasn't too bad. Just because of the fact I got to watch Mr. Taylor yell at the actors and actresses in the showcase when they - in the smallest way ever - messed up their lines. It even resulted in one girl, who looked no older then six - who was playing some orphan or whatever - running off the stage and crying. Mr. Taylor didn't care though. He muttered about the young girl being a diva and adjusted his pony tail. Then got back to screaming.
That's when I stopped enjoying watching the actors cringe at Mr. Taylor's venomous shouts of frustration. It was starting to give me a headache about how loud he was. And the toddler's cries from back stage.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I gather up the last prop and set it at the corner of the stage. I glance over at Ms. J who nods in approval at the set up, "Perfect! You're dismissed. But you're free to stay and watch the play. Won't it be exciting seeing your canvas' up there?"
I shrug, "I guess. But I got things to do tonight. Maybe if someone takes a picture or video, I'll catch it online."
Ms. J frowns, but doesn't argue. "If you say so, dear. Have a safe night."
I nod and blandly wish her a good show. I walk off the stage to collect my bag, only to be stopped when I see Adam perched on a high chair, grasping his script tightly in his hand while mumbling the words softly to himself.
It feels like Deja Vu.
I stiffly make my way over to my bag and hoist it on my shoulder, ready to walk off. But nothing ever goes smoothly in my world.
"Ronnie?" I inhale a sharp breath and look over my shoulder to see Adam with a bewildered expression on his face. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping with props," I reply blandly, "I was just leaving."
"Oh," He replies.
"Yeah," I say, "Break a leg." Literally, I think spitefully. I turn on the ball of my heel, ready to launch off when Adam grasps my arm, pulling me back.
"Look, just stay for the play, please." The desperation in his eyes is enormous. But not even his pleading tone and look can't get me to stay.
"I can't. I'm busy."
"With Liam?"
I tense, but shake my head. "No. It's none of your business, anyway."
"You're right, it's not," He says, clearing his throat. "Just please stay. That's all I ask."
I frown at him and attempt to wrench my arm out of his grip, but he keeps a tight grasp on me. Obviously not about to waver anytime soon. Not even when Mr. Taylor shouts for him to get on stage.
When Adam doesn't comply, he begins screeching at everyone. My headache returns again and I dreadfully huff. "Whatever. Fine. Just go."
It's an evident lie, but Adam seems pleased by my reply. "Great," He nods, a smile etching across his lips. "And you better stay. Or I'm running off that stage and following you."
"Okay, I get it," I reply. "Now go."
He releases me and dashes off to the curtain. But Mr. Taylor's screams are only silenced when the red curtain drapes back and the whole cast is revealed. That's when I hear the actors begin to recite their lines.
I exit the stage by taking the stairway off in the corner. I'm immediately shocked by how fast the seats filled up. Now the whole theater is packed with families who whip out their cameras and intently watch the play, obviously waiting to see their child appear.
I glance at the stage to see Adam spewing words in some highly overrated British accent as he scoffs at a couple that walk by, gazing into each other eyes. He fixes his black top hat before turning to the kid I know from Math class. "Look at those love struck fools. Pathetic."
I only look away from the stage when I feel someone faintly brush their arm against mine. I glance to see Ms. J with a broad smile on her face. "So you decided to stay."
I shrug and gaze back at the stage to only see Adam talking again. "I was kinda forced."
"I'm glad," She states bluntly. "Would you like to come sit with me?"
I nod. No point in arguing. "Sure."
I follow her to front row and take a seat next to her. I sit there for the next hour, completely bored out of my mind. I don't really pay attention to the play. Mainly because play's and musicals don't interest me. The only time I ever glance up at the stage is when they change the scenery and reveal another canvas Liam and I have worked so hard on. Or well, a canvas I've worked so hard on while Liam annoyed me half way through.
I can't help but wonder what's got him so tied up that he hasn't made an appearance the whole night. Right after that thought occurs, though, I push it away just as quickly as it came. I am not about to become some clingy freak.
I'm sure he's at his place, pigging out on food. The whole time we worked today he had been complaining about how hungry he was and how he was going to die if he didn't eat. I scowled him and told him to man up. That earned me a glare.
At least he get's to be at home and not be stuck at some play, I think pitifully. I sigh and shift around in my seat, about ready to grab my bag and leave when I suddenly hear my name.
Confused, I turn towards Ms. J and say, "What?"
But she obviously isn't the one who called my name. Since all she does is stare up at the stage and mouth Adam's lines.
I tense and look up at the stage, watching as Adam repeats my name. Though he isn't directly talking to me. Instead he's grasping some redhead's hand and repeating my name.
"I've told you million times not to call me that nickname, Gaspard." The redhead scowls Adam and then glances around nervously, "If my father hears you, he'll have a fit. I'm supposed to be the prime and proper Veronica Marital."
Immediately, I whip around and nudge Ms. J, bringing her out of her daze. She turns to me, furrowing her eyebrows at me. "What's wrong, dear?"
"That girl's name is Ronnie?"
"Well, yes, her nickname is, at least." She nods, "It's sweet, isn't it? Adam helped co-write the production with Brody, another talented prodigy like yourself."
"Huh?"
"Yes, very talented. I mean, I couldn't believe it when Adam was kind enough to base his love interest off of you. I find it so..."
I tune out the rest of Ms. J's words. Instead I watch Adam as he professes his feelings for this Veronica girl.
"I never meant those words I said, Veronica," Adam whispers breathlessly to the redhead as he cradles her cheek, bringing her closer. "I was a stupid and careless child. I never wanted to lose you, Ronnie."
The play isn't only based off my name, but Adam and I's past?
I learn that it indeed is when he dives back into his history with this Veronica girl. Just like Veronica's supposed love interest - the dude Adam's playing - he abandoned her as a child and left her in her time of devastation to grieve her mother's death alone.
That's when I decide I can no longer sit here and watch this.
I hurriedly gather my bag and stand up from my seat, sprinting off to the door, hearing the echo of my name in my ears. I don't know if Adam's legit calling after me, or this other Ronnie girl or whatever. Either way, it doesn't matter.
I run off. My feet thudding against the tile and I instantly find my way outside and into the depths of the forest. Heading for Liam's place.
I don't know where else to run off to, anyway. I didn't know how to deal with this. What did this mean? Is what Mrs. Beckett said true? Did Adam have feeling's for me and this was just his way expressing them for me?
No, no, no, I repeat over and over again in my head. Adam doesn't have feelings for you. It's a coincidence. A mere coincidence.
But I know it's not. Ms. Jovovich had even said this Veronica chick was based off of me. And frankly, that was weird and creepy and somebody wouldn't do that unless they liked you. Or even worse, loved you.
The thought makes me cringe and I pick up my speed, determined to get there faster and hysterically fling myself into Liam's comforting arms. I don't know what I'll say, but honestly, I don't care.
I'm too caught up in my thoughts and confused emotions that I don't realize the figure that is running in my direction too. It's too late before I can somehow skid to a stop.
So we collide. Quite hard, too.
I go flying off my feet and land on my side - the one where I fractured my ribs - the air whooshing out of me as I release a breathless gasp and involuntarily clutch at my side. I only manage to register a pinch of pain.
I squirm around on the ground like some fish out of water, trying to get the air I've just lost back. And when I finally do, I realize the person is who knocked into me is still in front of me, hurriedly shuffling to get back onto their feet.
I prop myself up on my hands and come face to face with a girl who looks no older then me. But from what I can tell, she's incredibly small with pin straight dark brown hair and vicious glint in her dark brown eyes that appear to be nearly black.
She doesn't say a word. She simply raises to stand and so do I. That's when I notice how small she really is. Sure, I'm not the tallest person, but she's even shorter then me, standing only at 5'2.
I don't even get the chance to demand who she is. She runs off. Her long hair fluttering behind her as she hops over a fallen tree.
It's not until I look towards Liam's house that I realize she was running from that direction.
And that she reeks of the Purgatory pack.
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Okay, a lot going on in this chapter. With the play, the girl. You guys not may think so, but I do. And I'm unsure about how I feel about this chapter, but I'm still going to post it. Mainly because if I don't, it'll be saved to my drafts for another month while I decide to post it or not. And I don't want to keep you guys waiting any longer.
Now, an important question.
IMPORTANT QUESTION! (YES, IT IS NECESSARY TO PUT THIS IN CAPS)
DO YOU GUYS WANT A SEQUEL TO TRM? IF YES, TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS BELOW AND HOW YOU WANT TRM TO END IF YOU GUYS WANT A SEQUEL!
I HAD TO PUT THIS IN CAPS BECAUSE I KNOW SOME OF YOU GUYS DON'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE. So I figured putting it in bold caps would get the point across. :P
Make sure to comment, vote, blah.
Until next time,
- CeCe.