“So…” Avia stared back, trying to search her friend’s blank expression. The world was still fuzzy around the edges, so she leaned back against the island for balance. She ran a hand through her hair and realized brown was overtaking the gold highlights. That meant another trip back to the salon— next payday, of course.
Avia blinked and tore past the sleepy haze to focus on her friend. “Not all of us wake up at the crack of dawn to get swol, Rach.” She forced a small smile, expecting a similar expression to mirror in Rachel. It didn’t.
“How was Immortel?” She crossed her arms and stared expectantly. Her voice was even, but anger was evident beneath the words.
“I—” Avia went still, eyes not leaving Rachel’s. She took a breath and tried to imbibe a casual approach. She laughed and threw her shoulders back in a nonchalant posture. “I’m guessing there was a video?”
Rachel held out her phone. Avia leaned forward to see herself on the stage, grinding against DJ Muskrat. Video-Avia then slid between his legs and began a solo-routine that fell somewhere between breakdancing and the sinuous allure of a stripper. Present-Avia was just realizing that she was killing it when her eyes went below the stage. There was Lorne, engaged in a seductive, almost serpentine movement with the brunette she had pointed out. Good for him.
Rachel pulled back her phone, and this time, hurt was clear in her face. “I…” She looked away, swatting a tear that started to well. “I’m done, Avia.”
Avia stared back, dumbfounded. “Rachel,” she said slowly, “I know I bailed on the movies. I wasn’t planning on going out. But some stuff went down when I got back and I needed to blow off steam and—”
“You always need to blow off steam!” Frustration flushed her pale skin red. “You’re always having a bad day. Me, and Danna, and Jack, and everyone else have been there for you and never once have you called. You hit the bar. You started hanging out with Dereck’s sketchy brother.”
“Come on, Nico’s not that bad.”
“He’s a white-collar drug dealer!” Rachel stormed to the refrigerator, pulled out the apple juice, then began top pour herself a glass. Where most people needed whisky, Rachel went to sweets and high fructose.
She took a long gulp then set the glass down. “This isn’t about the club,” she spoke quietly. “It’s not about you sleeping with the guy Tiff liked because you ‘really didn’t know.’ It’s not about you missing my birthday because you were hungover. This isn’t even about you blowing us off every time we make plans. This is about you being self-destructive with no regard for yourself or anyone else.”
Avia slammed her palm on the table. “Rachel, that’s not fair!” They both turned at the sound of the cat jumping from the couch and watched as he slunk off towards the bedroom. “Sorry, Ches,” she said with a whisper.
“Avia…” Rachel took a deep breath and pushed back the golden strands that slipped from her hair-tie. “I think that cat is the only living thing you care about.”
“Rachel, please.” Avia crossed to the kitchen and took the other girl’s arm. “Wanna get coffee? How about lunch? Just give me fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed and we can go.”
Rachel flattened her lips to a cold line. “I thought you had a student that rescheduled for this morning.”
Avia paled. “He um—that’s not ‘til nine. We have plenty of time.”
Rachel shook her head and pulled away. “Your mom called me last week.”
“What?!” Avia shot upright, tension winding down her limbs like a constrictor. “Wh—what do you mean?”
The other girl looked her over. The anger was gone. This time, it was just sadness. “I don’t know how she found me. She was just asking a ton of questions about how you were doing, if you liked your job. If you were happy.”
“Of course she did,” Avia growled before looking away.
“See?! This is your problem!” Rachel slammed the counter, exasperated. “Whatever happened with you and your parents, they are trying to do better. And what are you doing? Getting high, drinking on weeknights, and slutting around with every guy that so much as looks in your direction!”
“You have no right to bring up my family! Who are you to come into my house at six in the fucking morning to start preaching about my life?!”
More tears escaped Rachel’s eyes, but she didn’t fight them. “Avia, I think you’re hurt. I think something happened that took something away and left you hollow. Whatever you’re doing to yourself, it’s not working. I- I hope you can get the help you need.”
The world went still. Avia barely heard Rachel leave, or the door slam behind her. That one word kept repeating in her mind.
Hollow.
Hollow.
Hollow.
Hueco.
“I said no!” She stomped her foot down on his.
He reeled back in pain, cursing. She lunged away and fumbled for the handle on the bedroom door, but his hands were already on her shoulder, spinning her around. Before she could even see him, the back of his hand struck her face. She stumbled back into the bookshelf before falling to the floor.
He knelt before her, then lifted her chin so she could look him in the eye.
Despite the blow he’d just delivered, his composure was calm. No matter what, he never got upset. He was Señor Perfecto, after all. He cupped her cheek and kissed her, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. His long black locks fell over calm, inviting eyes. His tawny skin glowed in the small amount of sunlight that broke through the slits in the blinds. He was just as beautiful as the day they met. He was as beautiful as when he said he loved her—the first time they had sex.
He looked as beautiful as he did the first time he hit her.
Despite her earlier protests— to herself, as well as to him— she found herself standing in the center of the room, kissing him passionately. It wasn’t until his fingers began to undo the buttons of her shirt that she remembered the vow she’d made. How did they even get to this point? She had come to break things off, and yet here they were, blood dripping down her forehead and quickly making their way past second base.
“No,” she said firmly against his lips, pushing him away. “I’m done.”
“No?” he whispered back. The word dripped off his tongue like honey. He glided over the gap between them and embraced her again. His hands slid down and gripped her rear with a ferocity that forced a squeal of pain from her throat. “We’re not done yet. I thought you loved me, cariño?”
I actually said no this time… I said no...
Her mind rested on the single word as he lifted and carried her to the bed. She didn’t bother to struggle; it was over. But still, ‘no’ continued to repeat itself in her mind, even as her arms reflexively wrapped around his back and she found his name slipping from her tongue. I said no? she asked herself this time. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was hollow.
Avia pried her eyes open to find tears staining her cheeks. Again.
Cheshire was holding her. Again.
With a bitter cough, she tried to get up but fell back into him.
“I’m sorry,” she cried. She tried to force the sniffling to stop, but she still sounded like a child.
“Avi.” His voice was calm. Even. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back.”
She looked up to see thin lines of concern at the corners of his mouth. “What do you mean?”
He looked down and sighed. “I heard the door slam and found you lying on the ground, shaking and sweating. I tried the sleeping salts, and cold water, and everything else, but you wouldn’t wake up.” He held her tighter and looked away. “I thought I lost you.”
Avia didn’t break the embrace. Instead, she nuzzled deeper into his chest. If she had known Rachel was coming or maybe if she had been able to explain… She blew out a gust of air and pulled on his hand.
“Help me up?”
Cheshire stood and silently pulled her to her feet. She nodded in thanks then turned to the fridge. Her
eye caught the bottle of juice still on the counter, but she ignored it. Instead, she opened the door and took out a beer.
“You want one?”
“No, thank you, I’m good,” he murmured, moving to sit at the island.
Avia sat on the stool opposite him and took a long swig of the bitter liquid. “I’m sorry. That was probably really scary for you.”
“You’ve had panic attacks before,” he replied. His eyes stayed on his hands fidgeting on the counter top.
She gave a dry laugh and let her shoulders slump. “Yeah, but that one was worse than usual. Kinda took me by surprise...” Her gaze fell to the counter and despondence rolled over like a nearing storm. “Ches, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” He looked up, teal eyes landing on hers with piercing clarity. “I’m always here.”
Avia smiled, getting back to her normal self. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she felt better than she had in a long time. The chords were starting to play in the right key again, and she could finally think.
“Why haven’t you ever asked me what happened the day I showed up in the aether?” She tried to force the whisper to come out louder, but just forming the words felt like stepping on glass. “Or even, I don’t know, why I hate my parents?”
Cheshire shrugged. “Everyone has their secrets.”
Anxiety ate through Avia as she waited for him to continue. She stole a glance up to see him staring blankly ahead at the microwave. She could feel her own foot rapping a thousand miles a minute on the cold tile. When he finally moved, she sat up and silently exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Cheshire blushed, then locked his fingers together. “I just figured if—or when—you were ready to talk, you would. I didn’t want to hurt you more by bringing up something you spend every day trying to forget. Or,” he added, “accidentally cross a line and make you drive away the only person you’ve let get close.”
Her breath caught at his words. An intense love surged beneath his quiet, controlled voice that she hadn’t noticed before. He tried to look like a neutral party, but it was plain to see concern edged through his features.
Palming her face, she choked down more tears and forced a small smile. “Thanks. You’re a really good friend. But I think I’m ready now.”
“If that’s what you want, go for it.”
Avia nodded and gripped the bottle in her hand. “I’m not really sure where to start…” she began, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Okay, so, my parents were locum tenens— traveling doctors who filled in wherever needed. I lived in England, Japan, Germany, Kenya… All before I even finished eighth grade.
“I guess somewhere along the line, I finally, I don’t know, broke down. Counselor after counselor, they all put in their ideas of what was wrong with me. They couldn’t get why someone ‘so young’ and who had ‘so much’ was so unhappy. It didn’t really matter what they said or how much they prescribed; I just know I started falling apart when I stopped dreaming.
“On top of that, I wasn’t… the best kid in the world.” Her cheeks flushed and a hand absently brushed back loose strands of hair. “I was the girl smoking in the bathroom at school. I was the one who’d sneak out at night to go to a party. I always got invites, but I never went for my friends. I went to get drunk. It was the only way I felt alive.
“As the years went on, my parents gave up. They were positive and supportive, but their patience eventually wore out. I could see through their fake smiles. They were always thinking the same thing:
Our daughter’s broken.
We don’t know what else to do.
She’s a wreck.
Will she ever be normal?
“When I was sixteen, we moved to Columbia. I don’t know why, but I started feeling better. There was something about South America I actually liked. The weather, the music, the food, I mean everything was perfect. My parents still didn’t trust me, but I didn’t care; for the first time in years I felt... solid.
“But then I, umm, I met this guy... Julian. I don’t know what it was, but as soon as I saw him, something clicked. He was a senior, straight-A student, son of lawyers. And he was hot. My parents probably fell for him faster than I did. They always told me that I finally found a good one; maybe I could start moving forward with my life. I should have been insulted with them implying that a prince charming could fix me, but I didn’t care. I believed it.
“Then he- he umm…” Avia wiped her face and took a deep breath. She placed her right hand over her left to keep it from shaking, then straightened her back. “He started asking for stuff. At first, I said I didn’t want to, and he seemed to respect that. But as the months went by, he got more insistent. Eventually I- I gave in and we umm... did it.”
Avia paused, looking up to see if some reaction crossed her friend’s face. Disappointment? Shock? He only blinked. His body was still, attentive to every word she had to say. She didn’t know why she’d expected anything else. Cheshire practically knew everything about her already, and that included her sex life. If she ever found herself talking about a cute guy, he would simply nod his head, a thousand miles away. He never pried or asked questions. In fact, the topic seemed to completely disinterest him. On the occasions a guy would come back to the condo, Cheshire would take on his natural feline appearance and continue his nap without a care in the world.
“Like, at first, it was amazing,” Avia continued. “I was living in the most perfect city in the world and I was dating an amazing guy. More than all that, my parents were starting to look at me like a normal teenager. But then... I don’t know if he’d always been like that and I’d been too lovestruck to see it, or what, but Julian started to change. He started getting clingy, always needing me with him.
“I didn’t tell my parents everything, but I told them he was getting obsessive and that I wanted to break it off.” Avia’s despondence became a scowl and her hand tightened around the bottle. “You would’ve thought I told them I wanted to drop out of school and start stripping. My mom lost it, going on about how I was finally getting better and that I’d finally done something right. To my parents, Julian was the one drug that finally worked. I started to think that they were right, so I stuck it out.”
She bit down on her lip and ran her hands down her face. She could feel her breath shorten and fought to stop her lungs from spasming. Closing her eyes, Avia took another deep drink of her beer before looking back to Cheshire.
“Even when the verbal abuse started, I couldn’t leave, could I?” she spat. Her knuckles turned white around glass. “Bitch, slut, they all became the norm. The really shitty thing was he never raised his voice or got upset. Whenever I’d try to stand up for myself, he made it sound like I was being dramatic. What hurt the most was when he called me hueco— it’s Spanish for hollow. Same thing I’d gotten from my parents— without him I was incomplete.
“When it got physical, I told my dad. I expected him to, ya know, be a dad. He should’ve protected me. He should’ve gotten his gun and marched over to Julian’s, or something. But what happened?!” She smashed the bottle onto the floor. Her face flared bright red as anger consumed her every feature. “He fucking punched a hole in the wall, furious that I would lie to him! My parents didn’t believe that I could be telling the truth for one second. But why would they? Julian was the model of perfection, and I was just a problem child without him.” Avia threw her hands up in defeat. She took a deep breath and shook her head. It was almost a relief to see Cheshire still hadn’t moved. His expression was unreadable but showed undivided attention.
“It went on a few more months,” Avia said with a shrug. “Until I finally said enough was enough: I said no. He didn’t care and fucked me anyway, but I actually said it, ya know?” She stared Cheshire directly in the eye. “The physical and verbal attacks got worse until he finally lost it. It was the first time I actually saw him snap. I’d had enough of his shit and punched him. He hit me back. Again, and a
gain, and again. ‘Why?!’ he kept screaming, as if I was supposed to know why he was beating the girl he had said he loved.
“I woke up three days later in a hospital with my parents sitting at the foot of the bed. Silent.
“Apparently, Julian panicked when he came out of his tantrum. He tried to drop me off at the hospital, but couldn’t explain the blood on his clothes or what had happened to me.
“He’s still in jail, as far as I know, but I don’t care about that. What pisses me off is that it took being raped and beaten into a coma for them to actually believe me. I demanded for them to let me move out, to go to a boarding school in America, and they obliged.
“Of course, mijah, take all the time and space you need,” Avia droned with a roll of her eyes. “They bought me my car, my condo, paid for my college: they did anything to try to win my forgiveness.” She gave a bitter laugh. “The putas couldn’t even look me in the eye when I woke up in that hospital. But it’s whatever; I’m not above taking their gifts. Accepting things I want doesn’t make me hate them less. I just have to hit them where it hurts and keep away what they really want— me.”
Cheshire reached across the table and rested his hands over hers. “I- I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone.”
“It’s okay,” Avia said, forcing a smile. “Things are better now, I guess. It’s just…” She started shaking and tears welled in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern slipping into his voice.
“I- I don’t know how much longer I can stay like this… I can’t stand going back and forth, back and forth, I just want to stay! There’s nothing for me in my life here!”
“I know,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around her again. “But—”
“I know, Ches, I can’t stay or my soul will be torn apart. But there has to be a way…”
When We Were Still Human Page 11
