Soul Stone Page 4

  Recognizing that much of my anger has been diffused, Bas holds the phone out to me. I take it slowly without saying anything.

  “I really didn’t mean to get it taken away.”

  I slip my phone safely into my pocket before answering him. “I want to believe you, but you sure make it hard sometimes.”

  Bas just shrugs, offering no other apology.

  Sighing, I try to put aside my annoyance and be nice. “Anyway, thanks for getting it back.”

  Bas’s cocky grin suddenly makes a full return. “Well, I wanted to make sure you had it tonight just in case you change your mind about needing a ride.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’m heading over to Dani’s right now to help set up. Why would I need a ride?”

  Bas shrugs before walking off without another word. Whatever. I put Bas out of mind, hopefully for good, and hurry out to Tanner’s truck. He is already there waiting for me. “Did you get your phone back?”

  “Yeah, let’s go.” No explanation needed.

  Despite Tanner’s initial jealousy over Bas, he’s actually completely fine with Bas hanging around. I mean, I know they’ve been friends their whole lives. I know everyone in town practically worships Bas after what happened, but I honestly thought at least some of Tanner’s jealousy would stick around. If we weren’t planning to help set up, Tanner wouldn’t have had any problem riding with Bas at all. Maybe it’s just me, but that seems a little weird.

  As we pull up to Dani’s house, everything but the party dissolves away. I throw myself into decorating, setting up food, and carrying loads of blankets and lawn chairs to the movie area. I’m actually pretty excited for the movie. I don’t know why watching a movie outdoors seems so much more fun than watching it indoors, but I’ve never been to an outdoor theater and I can’t wait to cuddle up with Tanner on one of the blankets I’m carrying.

  After depositing the last load of blankets, I head back to the house to see what else Dani needs help with. I step through the sliding glass door and turn toward the kitchen just as someone shouts, “Heads up!”

  I try to duck out of the way of the hand towel flying through the air, but fail to notice the strawberry lemonade and ice cubes spilled all over the floor. Off balance from ducking, my foot slides on a piece of ice and I pitch sideways. My cheek slams right into the corner of the countertop, sending a sharp pain through my face as I slide down the cupboards and land in the puddle of lemonade.

  The icy cold liquid soaking through my clothes is bad enough, but I can feel the slow, warm drip of blood running down my stinging cheek as well. The throbbing that is beginning to spread through my whole face isn’t helping, either. Everyone stares at me, shocked, frozen before deciding what to do.

  The bang of the screen door falling back into place as someone comes through the front door seems to snap everyone into motion. Dani practically throws the half empty pitcher she was still holding at the person next to her and is at my side a second later. “Oh my gosh, Arra! I’m so sorry! I should have warned you about the spill!”

  “It’s okay,” I say, grimacing at the pain moving my cheek muscles causes.

  “No,” Bas says, “it’s not okay. You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

  Pressing my hand gingerly to my face, I groan when it comes away with a good deal of red. I know this is going to need a little more than a bandage. Having lived with my dad for sixteen years, if I show up at home tonight with a gash that he wasn’t allowed to treat, it would be sacrilege. I sigh as I realize that means a trip to the hospital ER.

  “Can someone find Tanner for me?” I ask as I accept a towel from Dani and press it against my face. “I need to have my dad look at this.”

  I feel bad when Dani’s face falls. “Is it that bad? Arra, I’m so sorry!”

  “Dani, really it’s okay. It was just an accident. I just need Tanner to run me over to my dad.”

  “Tanner isn’t here. I forgot to get ice cream for the floats so he went to get some. He just left.”

  Bas steps up and takes charge. The platters of food he is carrying get dumped on the counter. He points at Dani, saying, “Go get Arra some clothes she can borrow from your room so she doesn’t have to walk around in sticky shorts all night.”

  Dani races away as soon as he stops talking.

  “Nico and Travis, there are watermelons in the back of my truck.” He doesn’t even have to tell them to go. They jump right away and hurry out the front door. “Sibeal …”

  “I’ll get the rest of the platters out of the truck,” she says before scurrying away.

  He turns to me then. “You are coming with me.”

  I am instantly irritated at his bossiness, but talking hurts, so I settle for narrowing my eyes to express my ongoing frustration with him. After all the commands he just laid out, I half expect Bas to yank me to his truck without another word.

  I am startled when he gently lifts the towel away from my cheek. His touch is feather light as he prods my skin. Once he is reassured I’m not about to bleed out, he replaces the towel and takes my hand.

  “Come on. Let’s get you to your dad.”

  Dani comes barreling into the kitchen with a bag of clothes. When she starts bubbling over with apologies again, I don’t resist Bas pulling me away. The short drive across town to the hospital doesn’t leave much room for talking, which I am quite glad of. What I am not thrilled about is the fact that when we approach the registration desk and Bas tells them that Dr. Malo’s daughter needs to be seen, the nurse blares the message over the intercom. My dad, the only doctor on staff right now, comes darting out of an exam room looking like he’s about to have a heart attack.

  “Dad, it’s just a cut. Nothing serious.” I turn to glare at the nurse. She just shrugs and goes back to her charts. I turn back to my dad. “I don’t think it’s even bleeding anymore. I just knew you’d freak out if I came home with a bruise and a split cheek.”

  “What happened?” my dad demands. His eyes go straight to Bas.

  As much as I would like to blame Bas for this after the week he’s put me through, I force myself to be good and tell the truth. “Dad, it was just an accident. Dani spilled some lemonade in the kitchen. I slipped on some ice and hit my face on the corner of the counter. The sharp corner cut my cheek pretty good, but I’m not dying.”

  My dad’s eyes drop down to my shirt where I realize there is a fairly decent trail of blood running down my shoulder. I grimace at the sight. That actually does look like a lot of blood now that I really look at it. My free hand reaches for the reception desk as I start to feel a little woozy just from looking at it. Knowing my dad, he’s going to want to keep me overnight for observation now. I do not want to miss Dani’s party over this.

  “Dad, could you just get me cleaned up so I can go back to Dani’s?”

  “Cleaned up, yes,” he says seriously, “but we’ll have to see about going back to Dani’s.”

  I sulk as I follow him back to an empty exam room, hoping the cut isn’t as bad as it feels right now. I don’t even realize Bas has followed us until I try to get up on the hospital bed with one arm and suddenly find him lifting me onto the bed with hardly any effort at all.

  “Thank you, Bas,” my dad mumbles as he gathers up supplies.

  I look over at my dad, wondering how on earth he knows who Bas is already. I decide to ask him later when he pushes a tray over to the bed filled with gauze, silk sutures, and a syringe. “Dad,” I whine. “Can’t you just use that super glue stuff? I am not walking around like Frankenstein for a week!”

  “Arra …” my dad starts, but a nurse pulls the curtain aside and interrupts him.

  “Dr. Malo, Maggie Phillips just brought her son in with a fever of one hundred and three. I tried to tell her that Davey isn’t in immediately danger, but you know how she is.”

  My dad sighs. Apparently he does know how Mrs. Phillips is. I expect him to tell me he’ll be right back and I should sit tight, but instead he turns to Bas. “Do you mind g
etting her cleaned up? I’ll be back to see if she needs stiches in a few minutes.”

  “What?” I yelp. “You’re going to let him poke around on my cut face?”

  “Arra, he’s perfectly qualified to wipe some blood off your face. Just because he’s a volunteer fire fighter and not a paid one doesn’t mean he hasn’t been trained in basic life support and first aid. In fact, I just recertified him this week along with the other fire fighters. I think he can handle this.” He shakes his head as he strips off his gloves and tosses them in the trash on his way out.

  I didn’t know Bas was a volunteer fire fighter, I think angrily. Heaven forbid I don’t dote on him like everyone else in town. Why would I know something like that? It’s not like we sit around chatting all the time, I think as Bas puts on gloves and wets several pieces of gauze.

  When he reaches toward me, I flinch away. Bas ignores me, big surprise, and goes straight for the towel. He barely moves it at all, but the fact that the drying blood has now glued it to my face sends a stinging pain through my skin. My hand flies up and slaps Bas’s away before I can stop myself.

  “Maybe you should wet the towel a little first,” I snap.

  “I didn’t realize the towel had attached itself to your pretty little face.”

  Bas grabs a bottle of saline solution and starts drenching the area of the towel plastered to my cheek. The coolness of the water actually feels really nice, so I try not to scowl at him while he works. Bas reaches up for the towel again and I brace myself for another round of stinging. With my eyes shut tight, I wait for him to pull it away.

  “I already took the towel off, you big baby,” he says, suddenly right next to my ear.

  I blink and open my eyes to Bas’s annoying grin. I can feel my face going scarlet, and this time not from the blood. He laughs at me, obviously enjoying this. He’s still chuckling as he turns and tosses the towel into the biohazard laundry bin. I look away when he turns back. Just get it over with, I think as I watch the door. Dad, hurry up!

  Given Bas’s less than stellar first attempt at removing the towel from my face, I have no delusions of gentleness from his next effort to wipe away the rest of the blood, but I am surprised again. The slight pressure of the gauze against my cheek is practically a caress. His other hand comes up to my cheek, and I don’t resist as he turns my head slowly.

  My eyes stay downcast as he works. I don’t know why, really, but I just don’t care to look at him as he washes away the blood. The growing pile of bloody gauze on the tray is enough to make me nauseous. My dad has no delusions of me following in his footsteps. Bas was totally right when he called me a baby.

  “Well, your face is all cleaned up,” Bas says, “but I think your shirt is ruined.”

  I look up, prepared for more teasing, but I forget what I was thinking about when I lock eyes with Bas. There is something strange about his expression. I can’t help staring as I try to figure it out. Bas always has an attitude, a persona on display. For once, none of that is there. It’s just him and the guilt he is hiding behind the smiles and jokes.

  “Thank you, Bas,” my dad says, clapping Bas on the shoulder and startling both of us.

  Bas’s hand falls away from my cheek—which I didn’t even realize was still there—and he steps back. “No problem, Dr. Malo.”

  My dad comes over to inspect the damage with his doctor face on. I’m not a fan of his doctor face. It usually means more than a Band-Aid is needed. In my head, I beg for the glue and not the stitches. When my dad shakes his head, my hopes plummet.

  “Stiches?” I whine.

  He nods, and I swear there’s a little smile on his face. “You’re going to end up with a nice crooked, Harry Potter style scar on your cheek if I don’t.” My dad readies the little syringe of anesthetic, but looks over at Bas before coming any closer. “You may want to hold her hand,” he says to Bas.

  Bas’s eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”

  “Arra doesn’t like needles. I’ll need you to hold her hand.” He looks back at the tray, mumbling, “And possibly hold her down.”

  I could kill my dad for this. Bas’s infuriating grin is something I can practically feel bouncing off my skin like the rays of a summer sun. Bas is getting such a kick out of this right now. When he taps against my hand to try and get me to let go of the bed sheets, I shake my head vehemently.

  “You’re an even bigger baby than I thought,” Bas says as he pries my fingers off the bed and grabs my hand.

  The fact that my dad is laughing really tops off my humiliation. I have every intention of bravely sitting still through the injection and two stitches my dad warns me I am about to get. I have one goal. Do not embarrassment myself any further in front of Bas. I want so badly to prove him wrong.

  The reality is, my dad clips the last piece of suture while Bas has his arm around my shoulders telling me it’s okay and wiping tears off my face. I am so angry at myself that I can’t even think about saying a word to him. I have mixed feelings about my dad doing it for me.

  After kissing my forehead, my dad pats Bas on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help.”

  “No problem, sir,” Bas says.

  My dad leaves after that, abandoning me to Bas. Tears of fear turn into tears of humiliation. “Could you please get out so I can change?”

  “Arra …”

  “Just go.”

  Bas doesn’t argue. His arm slides away from my shoulders and I hear the curtain being pulled closed behind him a few seconds later. I don’t move right away. The emotions running amok inside of me take a few minutes to quiet back down. What is it about Bas that gets under my skin so bad? Why do I care so much that he just saw me crying like a baby?

  I’ve had to deal with obnoxious people before, but it’s more than that. Bas is more than that. He can be so contradictory. One minute, the utter definition of a tool. Then the next, he’s showing this sweet, caring side. One of them is fake, but I don’t know which one. Then there is that strange sense of guilt I saw in him. What does the Golden Boy have to feel guilty about?

  Knowing my questions aren’t going to be answered just sitting here, I gingerly wipe away the lingering tears and slip off the bed and onto the floor. I look around for the bag of clothes from Dani, finding it sitting behind me on the bed. I dump them out, eager to get out of here. As I start to peel off my clothes I realize I am still covered in dried, sticky strawberry lemonade.

  After locating a few large pieces of gauze and getting them wet, I scrub off the last remnants of this stupid accident. I’m still a little sticky as I pull on Dani’s shorts, but it will have to do for now. Stripping off my shirt without getting blood all over myself is a bit more challenging than I expect. A smear of blood down my biceps is my reward for trying to avoid bumping my face.

  Having to stop and wipe off more blood delays me a moment longer, but I manage to get Dani’s shirt on before I hear Bas’s voice from outside the curtain.

  “Arra, Tanner’s on his way up the hall.”

  In a flurry of hand movements, I wipe away any remaining tears, straighten my clothes, and attempt to smooth my hair down. Tanner pulls back the curtain and marches into the room with Bas close behind a moment later. The concern in his expression is clear, but the hint of a smile makes me wonder how Bas already had time to tell him about me freaking out. My eyes snap over to Bas, but his are looking everywhere but at me.

  “Arra,” Tanner says with a shake of his head, “I leave you alone for five minutes and you end up in the hospital. Dani will definitely never forget this party. She’s sure she just about killed you.” Tanner laughs and kisses my forehead. His eyes lose their mirth as he turns more serious. “Are you really okay? Bas said it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first, but I was still worried.”

  “I’m fine, really. Only two little stiches. It was just an accident. I think my pride is more injured than my face. I can’t believe I did that.”

  Dropping my head against Tanner’s shoulder, part of me just wants him
to take me home. My dad is still pretty annoyed at Tanner, though, so going home would probably mean spending the evening without him. The idea of having everyone staring at my face and asking questions isn’t something I’m real keen on, but as long as Bas and Tanner don’t tell anyone about my meltdown it shouldn’t be too bad. Plus, I can still spend the evening curled up with Tanner as we watch the movie if I go.

  “Well, will my dad let me get out of here?” I ask. “I’m sure everyone else is already at the party.”

  “Do you still want to go?” Tanner questions.

  I press my fingertips to my injured cheek very carefully. It’s still a bit numb, but I’m hoping it won’t hurt too badly even after the anesthetic wears off. I have some aspirin in my purse if I need it. I do have one other concern, though. “How bad does it look?”

  “It’s red and puffy, but no real bruising yet.”

  “Then let’s get going.”

  I make quick work of gathering up my dirty clothes and shove them back in Dani’s bag. Maybe my mom can save my shirt. It was one of my favorites. As I am tying the laces on my tennis shoes, Tanner walks over to Bas and gives him one of those man hugs, the kind where they clasp hands in front of their chests and give each other one-armed pats on the back.

  “Thanks, man,” Tanner says. “I appreciate you bringing her to her dad.”

  “No problem. Dr. Malo’s a nice guy. I really like him.”

  A little quieter, Tanner asks, “How’d she do? She told me once that she doesn’t like needles.”

  My hands slow, and I make tying the last bow a never ending process. Bas didn’t already tell him? I guess Tanner’s smile when he first walked in was just teasing me about the mishap. I close my eyes as I listen, knowing Bas won’t be able to resist telling Tanner every detail.

  “She did great,” Bas says, shocking me into immobility. “No problem at all.”

  Tanner lets out a relieved breath. I hear the clap-clap of another man hug and then Tanner is back at my side. “Ready?”