He was sorry. So sorry. He promised. Never again. Unwanted, the image of Tyson's coffee eyes swimming with tears clouded her vision.
Reflexively, Melissa's eyes sought Tyson. He was still staring. His forehead creased, his eyebrows pulled together, grief-stricken…
Melissa shuddered again.
«Are you cold? Do you want my-?» Cooper half-shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and then stopped himself, his face flushing. «You can't be cold. It's so hot in here,» he said lamely as he withdrew the offer, buttoning the jacket back into place.
«I'm fine,» Melissa assured him. She forced herself to look only at his sallow, boyish face.
«This place kinda sucks,» Cooper said, and Melissa nodded, happy to agree with him. «We could go to my father's country club. There's an incredible restaurant, if you're in the mood for dessert. We won't have to wait for a table. As soon as I mention my name…»
Melissa's attention wandered again.
Why am I here with this little snob? asked the thought that was so strangely unfamiliar in her head, though it came in her own voice. He's a weakling. So what if he couldn't hurt a kitten? Isn't there more to love than safety? I don't feel the same need in my stomach when I look at Cooper-when I look at anyone besides Tyson… I can't lie to myself. I still want him. So much. Isn't that love, that wanting?
Melissa wished she hadn't drunk so much of that vile, burning punch. It was impossible to think clearly.
She watched as Tyson left his partner stranded and crossed the floor until he stood right in front of her-the perfect broad-shouldered football hero cliche. It was as if Cooper didn't exist there between them.
«Melissa?» he asked in his melting voice, sorrow twisting his features. «Melissa, please!» He held his hand out toward her, ignoring Cooper's wordless spluttering.
Yes yes yes yes yes chanted in her head.
A thousand memories of desire rocked through her. Her clouded mind buckled.
Hesitantly, Melissa nodded.
Tyson smiled in relief, in joy, and pulled her around Cooper and into his arms.
It was just so easy to go with him. Melissa's blood ran through her veins like fire.
«Yes!» the pale dark girl hissed, hidden in her stall, and a forked tongue of flame lit her face with red. The fire popped loud enough that someone might have noticed if the bathroom hadn't still been full of shrill voices raised in irritation.
The fire receded, and the girl took a deep breath. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then closed again. Her fists tightened until the pallid skin looked like it would split over the sharp ridges of her knuckles. Her slim figure began to tremble as if she were straining to lift a mountain. Tension and determination and expectation were a nearly visible aura around her.
Whatever difficult task she had set for herself now, it was clear that completing it was more precious to her than anything else.
«Cooper,» she hissed, and fire poured from her mouth, her nose, her ears. Flames bathed her face.
Like you're nothing at all. Like you're invisible. Like you don't exist! Cooper trembled with fury, and the words in his head fed the rage, brought it to a boil.
You could make her see you. You could show Tyson who the real man is.
Automatically, his hand reached toward the heavy bulge hidden beneath his jacket at the small of his back. The shock of remembering the gun cut right through the rage, and had him blinking rapidly, like he'd just woken from a dream.
A line of goose bumps flashed down his neck. What was he doing with a gun at the prom? Was he crazy?
It was such a stupid thing, but then, what else could he do when Warren Beeds had called him on his thoughtless brag? Sure, it was true that the school's security was a joke, that anyone could sneak in anything they wanted. He'd proved that, hadn't he? But was it worth it to have a gun at his back, just to show up Warren Beeds?
He could see Melissa, her head on that stupid jock's shoulder, her eyes closed. Had she forgotten Cooper completely?
Fury bubbled again; his hand twitched toward his back.
Cooper shook his head more vigorously this time. Insanity. That wasn't why he'd brought the gun… It was just a joke, a prank.
But look at Tyson. Look at that superior, smug smile on his face! Who does he think he is? His father is no more than a glorified gardener! He's not afraid I'll do something about the fact that he stole my date. He doesn't even remember that I brought her. He wouldn't be afraid of me if he did. And Melissa doesn't remember I exist.
Cooper gritted his teeth, hotly resentful again. He imagined the superior look on Tyson's face vanishing, turning to horror and fear as he stared down a gun barrel.