The Guardian (13 page)

F
IFTEEN

“
Have you ever eaten here before?”
Arsen
asks, parking the convertible on loan from a friend. I unbuckle my seatbelt and take in the Japanese-inspired architecture of the building in front of me. The sun sinks deeper, setting the sky on fire with shades of
red and orange.

“No, I haven’t,” I confess. I don’t mention that this is probably because it is way out of my budget. The truth is: I like that there are things
Arsen
doesn’t know about me. I’m a clean slate: I can be anyone.
Anything.
I lick my lips, tast
ing the strawberry lip gloss.

“It’s awesome,” he goes on. “The chefs cook right at the table.” He waits for me as I walk around the car. “You’re
gonna
love it.”

He takes my hand in his. It’s strong, firm. “We should talk Ernie into putting the grill in th
e middle of the restaurant so everyone can watch you and Stu,” I say.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,”
Arsen
replies, pulling the door open for me. “I’m still on the learning curve.” His eyes sparkle.

“You’re learning from the best, though.” I step inside the re
staurant. Through the observation window in the lobby I glimpse a fireball whooshing to the ceiling. The audience at the table claps.

Arsen
slips his arms around me, leans in, breath warm on my ear. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

My hea
rt reacts to the flutters dancing in my stomach. I can feel the blush creeping up my neck. “I think you might’ve mentioned it.”

“I think I might mention it a few more times, if that’s okay with you,” he says, voice smoldering.

“You can follow me,” the host
ess says.

As we enter the dining room, my eyes land on a table that’s only half occupied.
Four individuals.
Oh My God.
No Way
.

For a brief moment I consider turning around, running as fast as humanly possible in the opposite direction. I think
quickly. Maybe I can fake an allergy. Confess a fear of open flames.

“Are you coming?”
Arsen
asks.

“Um . . . sure.”
I hurry after him, keeping my head low and pressing my fingers against my temple, hiding my face from view. I can’t see them, but I can fe
el us moving closer. My worst fears are confirmed when the waitress stops at their table.

I clear my throat. “Isn’t there, um, somewhere else we can sit?” I
ask,
voice low.

Arsen
eyes me strangely,
glances
at the hostess, and lets out a shaky laugh. “The
y fill tables in order,” he explains. “We have to eat as a group. I hope that’s okay.” As he sits down, I drop to the floor, pretending to tie my shoe. But then I realize that my shoes don’t even have laces. I’m wearing sandals.

I slowly rise to my full he
ight. When I turn toward the other side of the table, eight eyes are staring at me.
Four pairs.
One of those pairs I don’t think is a natural color.

“Genesis.
It’s so
funny
to see you here,” Selena says. The corners of her mouth turn down in disapproval.

Beside her sits Carter. On the other side Vivian.
And then Jason.
“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, glancing at them.

“Um . . . hi,” I stammer, working to smooth my hair, tucking it behind my ears when I’d rather melt into the floor and disappear forever.

“Cool
. You guys know each other?”
Arsen
asks, passing a look between us.

I force myself to snap out of it, to deal with this surprising, if not totally awkward, reality.
“Um, yeah.
Arsen
, this is Carter, Selena, Vivian, and Jason. We . . . go to school together
.” I cough. “This is
Arsen
, we, um . . . work together.”

“This is perfect,”
Arsen
declares enthusiastically. 

“So convenient,” Selena states, her tone flat. 

I clear my throat and sit down.

Even as I hide my face behind the menu, I know they’re ogling.
My face flushes with heat.

How could this happen?

Carter has
never
taken me here.
Ever.
I didn’t even know he
liked
Japanese food.

As discretely as possible, I peek over the top of the menu.

Carter is entirely too absorbed in his salad. The hurt is trans
parent: in his eyes, the way he stabs the lettuce with his fork. . . .

Traitor.
Traitor.
Traitor.

My heart sinks as a wave of guilt washes over me.
You are such an inconsiderate ex-girlfriend
.
A terrible, horrible person.
You just broke up with him. And no
w you’re out with another guy?

I excuse myself for the bathroom, promising I’ll only be gone for a minute. I can feel everyone’s eyes watching as I walk away.

Inside the bathroom, I twist the lock behind me, fall against the door, and scream inside my head
. The room is red, and the marble tile glitters, even in the dim light. Brush paintings and Japanese characters line the walls. As
zen
-like as it is, I’m not feeling very tranquil.

I inhale sharply, moving toward the pedestal sink to wash my hands.

“This
is going well.”

My heart constricts in my chest, reacting when I hear the voice. “What do you want?” I fume, trying to swallow the lump wedged deep in my throat.

“Aren’t we in a mood,” he says, eyes teasing.

I glare through the mirror at the figure stand
ing behind me, his arms folded across his chest, lean muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. “Maybe I need some privacy,” I say, flipping on the water faucet. “You realize this is the women’s bathroom, right?”

“You got it. I just have to say one thing first
,” Seth informs me.

I reach for the hand soap. “So say it and get out.”

“I don’t trust this guy.”

I scoff at the image in the mirror. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t joke around.”

“Now
that
is a total lie,” another voice says. This guy is shorter than Seth.
A rounder face.
Lighter hair.
Younger.

“I thought I told you to stay out of this,” Seth warns.

“What is this?
A
freakin
’ convention?
Who are you?” I demand to know.

“I’m sorry. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he says, rolling his eyes. “That’s not m
y fault, though, and that’s not to say I don’t know everything about you already. It seems that even though I’m always accused of being the talkative one, Romeo over here can’t seem to shut up about you for five seconds.” He throws Seth a dirty look.

Seth
glowers at him.

“Then ask him where he’s been lately.” I don’t want to sound hurt, or bitter, but that’s exactly how the words come out.

“Trust me when I say that he’s just as miserable . . .”

“Who are you?” I ask again, interrupting.

“His name is Joshua,
” Seth informs me. “And he’s leaving.”

“This is great. I mean, how many of you are stalking me? Let me guess. You’re a Guardian, too?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies, at the same time Seth says, “No.”

“So who are you guarding and why aren’t you with
them
right n
ow?” I ask, spinning around on my heel to face them both.

“No one.
Joshua is on probation,” Seth explains.

“Oh my God.
A miscreant angel.”
I
fold
my arms across my chest, hugging myself. “You look like you’re twelve.”

He scowls. “I resent that.” His expre
ssion changes, brows pulling together. “Wait. What exactly have you told her?” Joshua asks Seth.

“She knows what we are,” Seth replies, not taking his eyes off me.

“I happen to be taking a break from the industry,” Joshua explains.

“He’s suspended indefini
tely,” Seth clarifies.

“Out of curiosity, how does one become suspended from being a Guardian?” I ask. I toss Seth a withering glance. Maybe we can arrange something. At least then I won’t have to worry about him popping in and out of my life, sending me o
n an emotional roller coaster every time he decides to show up then leave again.

“Oh, there are plenty of ways,” Joshua begins. “In this case it’s because I knocked out my charge.”

“What?” I ask, hardly believing that this pipsqueak of a kid has enough tor
que behind his fist to knock out a gnat, much less an actual person.

“It’s not like that. He was about to start a fight and I intervened.”

“You moved a chair, which he fell over, which made him hit the table behind him,” Seth says.

“Which wasn’t a big dea
l . . . ,” he goes on.

“Except you hadn’t materialized.
To everyone watching, the chair moved by itself.”

“That’s freaky,” I mumble.

Joshua shrugs. “Cardinal Sin Number One: Never interfere with free will. Number Two: Don’t materialize
unless you absolutely have to.”

“Rule Three: Don’t move things around when no one can
see
you,” Seth adds.

“Hey, they were all trashed.
And that one guy?
He totally freaked out. He’s in AA now thanks to me.
Getting sober.
That has to count for something.”

“Great,” I reply, shaking my head in disbelief. “This is awesome. Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to get back to my table.”

Seth steps in my way, blocking my path to the door. “No,” he says. “You have to hear me out. This guy you’re with. . . . I
don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone,” I remind him.

“For good reasons.
But this guy especially.”

“What is with you?” I ask, eyes narrowing. “I
mean,
this whole coming and going thing whenever you feel like it is really pissing me off. You yell at me
—for something that wasn’t even my fault, by the way—abandon me for like, weeks at a time, brood yourself into a corner, and then you drop in out of nowhere just to tell me you don’t like my
date
?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I
hate
when you say that.
Everything
is freaking complicated with you!”

“You have to believe me. And I never abandon you,” he answers, his tone laced with injury.
“Ever.”

“I don’t have to believe anything,” I shoot back.

“There’s something about him. . . . I don’t think he’s guarded.”

“Yeah,
and there’s something about Carter, Seth. You don’t like him, either, remember? Well you know what I think? I think you’re just jealous.” I reply, digging my heels further into the ground.

“Dude.
She’s got you there,” Joshua pipes.

“You need to disappear,”
Seth warns, anger simmering beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

In the next moment, Joshua is gone. Just
how
gone, I don’t know. I look back at Seth, waiting. His features
soften,
his words quiet and steady. “I know you’re upset with me, and I unders
tand that you’re trying to prove a point, but don’t prove it with this guy.”

I scoff, trying to move around him.

“Genesis,” he begs, blocking my pathway.

“No,” I say
, raising
my hands in defense. “I don’t even want to hear it. I don’t care. You walked away
from
me
, remember? And I have a date to get back to. At least he doesn’t vanish whenever he feels like it. So thank you for the warning, but in this case I’m going to use my free will to leave. You can use yours to butt out.” I push past him, unlock the b
athroom door, and head back to the dining room.

“Everything okay?”
Arsen
asks.

My cheeks flush. “Everything’s great,” I reply, smiling broadly as I take my seat beside him. Thankfully the chef arrives, ready to cook our meals. Watching him, it’s easy to i
gnore Carter’s miserable expression, Selena’s resentment, to push Seth out of my mind completely. Because there is no way I’m going to let an indecisive angel tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.