The Shoma

by Lola St. Vil

  The only thing I want to do now is focus on something other than the Guardians. I look around and spot my Calculus textbook; relief washes over me. Sigh, you know it’s bad when you end up looking forward to homework.

  After catching up on some of my school assignments, I do something even more shocking—housework. I do the laundry and vacuum each room. There is nothing like heartbreak to make you productive.

  I really thought I would hear from Marcus by now, but I haven’t. I guess he’s getting used to being without me. The thought brings with it a surge of sadness. I push the pain aside and do what most heartbroken girls do: shop.

  Okay, so I’m shopping for eBooks for my Kindle, but still I’m shopping. I have just bought downloaded the entire “Game of Thrones” series, along with a few other books I’ve been meaning to get to.

  Exhausted, I collapse on the sofa and turn on the TV. Yes, this is perfect. I will watch mindless TV and forget about “what’s-his-name.”

  “What the hell?” I shout to the apartment.

  Bianca Cane is on Entertainment Tonight! She’s actually on every single news channel.

  They think she is an international beauty that has a heart of gold and is fighting for human rights.

  This is perfect, this is just perfect. It’s not enough that she gets Marcus, but she also gets fame and recognition by the humans. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone this intensely, but I have to say, I truly wish that girl a horrible death.

  I listen to her demands. This chick is crazy. There is no way they can let Quo get access to the light. I’m sure the team is upset about this; and as for Marcus, I’m sure he is pissed off and breaking things. I hope he’s okay. Maybe I should call him.

  Stop it! Who cares if he’s okay? If he wanted to hear from you he would have called;better yet, if he wanted you he wouldn’t have thrown you out. Damn it, Emerson, growup!

  The inner fight I’m having between “Emmy” and “Emerson” rages on. On one hand, I want to do what I usually do—rush over and help; but on the other hand, I’m sick of being treated like trash by Marcus. How dare he put me through this, after everything we’ve been through?

  There’s a knock on my door. I open it and find Julian standing in front of me. Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

  “Can I come in?” He asks.

  “I’m busy,” I snap.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Marcus kicked you out of the villa, so…”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “Traveler friend of mine told me. You know very little gets past them,” Julian says.

  “Marcus is right; travelers are gossipy and useless.”

  “Can I come in, please?” Julian begs.

  I reluctantly move aside and let him in. He looks around my apartment. He walks up to a sliver frame picture of my mom. He carefully picks it up and studies her.

  “She was so beautiful,” he says, distant.

  “Yes, she was.”

  “You remind me of her.”

  “Look, I’m busy so…”

  “Piglet, I thought we were getting closer. What happened?”

  “I realized getting to know you may not be in my best interest.”

  “I know you’re upset with me, for all that’s happened, but I love you and everything I have done has been to protect you.”

  “What is it with you and Marcus? Why do you both think you can do whatever you want to people so long as it’s in the name of protection?” I ask.

  “I am nothing like the First Guardian. I have done everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  “And what does that entail, exactly?” I ask.

  This is his chance to admit he set it up so that Bianca and Marcus had to sleep together.

  This is his chance to come clean, and even though I will never forgive him for that, atleast we can start with the truth.

  “Julian, is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Yes.”

  Dear Omnis, he’s going to confess to interfering with Marcus and me. Is it enough thathe’s finally telling the truth? Can we really repair our relationship? How do I forgivehim for causing me so much pain? Am I capable of forgiveness at this point; is anyone?

  “I think you should leave New York City and go live with your uncle. That way you can get back to a normal life. Go to school, graduate, go to college…” He says.

  “That’s what you want to tell me?” I shout.

  “Yes. I know school doesn’t seem important right now, but it is,” he pushes.

  “You have to be kidding me, right? You think I can just forget everything that’s happened and go back to school? Seriously?”

  “It won’t be easy, but it’s what’s best for you.”

  “I am not a child and am sick of you and Marcus treating me like one.”

  “I told you before, I am nothing like Marcus.”

  “Bullshit! You two are exactly alike,” I accuse.

  “No, we are not!” He shouts.

  “How are you two different? Tell me, how?” I challenge.

  “I would NEVER send you away.”

  His words cut right through me. I can’t disagree with him. Marcus did just that, but it doesn’t mean I want to hear it said out loud. I guess Julian sees the hurt on my face because he softens his tone.

  “Emmy, I know you love him and yes, maybe he loves you, but how much is this love going to end up costing you? You’ve lost your mom, you’ve lost friends and now you’re losing yourself. He’s turned you into the other woman. He has actually convinced you that you should be okay with that. When will you wake up and realize Marcus is not for you?”

  “You made it so he had to sleep with Bianca!” I shout.

  He’s taken aback by my outburst. He didn’t think I knew the truth. I take advantage of his shocked silence.

  “That’s right, Julian, Bianca told me. She told me how you plotted to ensure Marcus and I broke up.”

  “I did it to help you,” he insists.

  “Next to losing my mother, the night of Marcus and Bianca’s honeymoon was the worst night of my life.”

  “I’m sorry but—”

  “—I am not done,” I snap.

  He looks at me and sees fury in my eyes. I would imagine my eyes are now a deep purple.

  “Julian, I pictured every kiss the two of them shared and I wanted to die. I just wanted to stop living. You did that to me.”

  “No, Marcus did that. Yes, I set it up. Marcus didn’t have to say yes to it.”

  “You knew he would. He’s a First Guardian. He has to protect humanity.”

  “No, he has to protect you. If he loves you, he needs to put you first.”

  “You know he can’t break the rules and let humanity perish.”

  “He can, I did. I broke every rule for your mother because I loved her and she was my life. If Marcus loves you, then he will say to hell with everything and, at the end of the day, he would be here with you.”

  “MARCUS LOVES ME!”

  “THEN WHERE IS HE?”

  I throw my father out my apartment. At first I thought it was because he was wrong, but the truth is, he is actually right. Marcus should have been there for me. It didn’t matter what else was going on. It didn’t even matter that Julian had set up the marriage Exchange clause. Marcus should have fought for me; for us.

  Less than five minutes after I throw Julian out, he knocks on my door again. I am really getting angry now. I just want him to leave me alone. I march up to the door and fling it wide open.

  “I told you to go away!” I scream.

  However, it isn’t Julian at the door. It is the Guardians; all of them except Marcus. They look back at me, surprised by my hostile greeting.

  “Expecting someone, baby girl?” Jay asks.

  “Yeah I thought it was…never mind. What’s going on?” I ask.

  “A few hours ago,
Arden died,” Miku says.

  I place my hand over my mouth to muffle a sorrowful moan. Arden was always so good to us. She had a way of making everyone feel important. She’s been with us since the beginning. I step aside and let the team inside my apartment.

  “I’m so sorry. How is Rahell doing?” I ask.

  “She’s completely freaked out,” Ameana replies.

  “Okay, is there anything I can do for her?”

  “She doesn’t want our help; for real, she hates us right now,” Jay replies.

  “We actually didn’t come here about Rahell,” Rage says.

  “Okay then, what’s going on?”

  “It’s Marcus. The news of Arden’s death has him over the edge,” Ameana replies.

  “Over the edge how?”

  “He’s acting crazy. He’s ready to fight everything and everyone in sight. He’s talking about declaring open war on the Paras. If Marcus were in his right mind, he’d never do that. He’s losing it,” Miku responds.

  “You have to come with us and try to get through to him; say whatever it is chicks say that make us fool ourselves into thinking things will be fine,” Rage says.

  “Come, baby girl, let’s head back to the villa and fix this,” Jay says.

  The team all turn towards the exit, and prepare for us to take off back to Italy.

  “No,” I call out to them.

  They turn around before they get to the door, confused.

  “What?” Miku says, dumbfounded.

  “I’m not going,” I reply, softly yet with conviction.

  “Em, I know you’re mad at him, but this is not the time…” Miku starts.

  “Miku’s right. He’s in a really bad place right now. He needs you,” Ameana replies.

  “Yo, for real, I’ve never seen him this…off before. We can’t waste any time, baby girl. Let’s be out,” Jay encourages.

  “I know he’s going through a lot right now. Here’s the thing; I don’t care,” I inform them.

  The room is full of baffled Angels. They are too shocked to speak. I go back over to the door and hold it open for them; and without another word, I kick the Guardians out of my home.

  I sit on the edge of the sofa and let what I just did sink in. I then enter my bedroom and flash back to a moment Marcus and I shared there. I had just learned that he would have to have sex with Bianca in order to get the army he needed.

  I hurled every single thing I could find at him. I wrecked the apartment trying to attack him. I told him I didn’t care what he did with Bianca. Marcus saw right through me. He knew how much it ached to know he would soon be inside her.

  “Baby, I love you,” he assured me.

  “I hate you,” I replied.

  “I know.”

  “I do; I hate you,” I said.

  “I know,” he repeats.

  “I’m not in love with you, Marcus. I don’t care what happens to you. You can dowhatever you want with Bianca, because I don’t care,” I raged as I cried into his chest.

  “You want me to leave?” He asked.

  “Yes,” I vowed.

  He didn’t budge.

  “Marcus, I’m serious. Get out.”

  He stayed.

  “Because you hate me?” He asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Emmy?”

  “What?”

  “I hate you, too.”

  We ended up in this room; our kisses went from innocent to salacious in a matter ofseconds. I thought I had to make love to him as best as I could, so that he would notforget me while he was with her.

  “Emmy, I don’t have to have sex with you to remember how much I love you,” hewhispered. “You’re gonna be with Bianca and there’s nothing I can do about it. I want the memoryof us to stay with you.”

  “‘Us’ is never far from my mind; or my heart.”

  “You’re gonna make love to her and I won’t matter anymore,” I said.

  “We’re not making love. We’re just…having sex,” he reminds me.

  “So? You and I had sex and it got us back together.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “We didn’t fall in love because we had sex; we had sex because we were in love. Onenight with Bianca won’t change that.”

  “Marcus, I don’t think I can handle this,” I plead.

  “You can. Please, don’t give up on us; I can’t lose you again.”

  “How are we supposed to do this?” I ask.

  “We’ll make vows to each other: I vow not to let Bianca near my heart because itbelongs to you.”

  “I vow to remember our love is stronger than any Exchange clause and not to give up onus.”

  “You promise?” He asks desperately.

  “I do.”

  “Seriously, Emmy, things can get…crazy…once Bianca and I are married. Promise youwon’t forget how much I love you. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” I reply.

  “We’re going to get our happy ending, baby. I swear to Omnis, we are...”

  More and more, the “happy ending” is starting to feel like a childish daydream. There’s no logical reason to believe that Marcus and I could survive fighting both the world and each other. That’s the point “Emerson” has been trying to make.

  All day I have been waging a battle between who I was and who I have been forced to become. The two of us have been locked in a brutal death match and we are going all twelve rounds. In the corner to the right, there is Emmy. She is heartbroken. She’s in pain and very fragile. I hate her.

  Over in the left corner is Emerson; she is bitter, fed up and quick to anger. I like her a lot.

  The thing is, both of us love Marcus, but Emerson is not willing to let that love destroy her, anymore. There are other guys out there. Hell, there are other Angels. And maybe it’s okay to let him go. Maybe it’s fate that we should be apart. Maybe, just maybe, love really shouldn’t hurt this much.

  This whole time the fight between “Emerson”’ and “Emmy” has raged on, I thought I didn’t have any idea who was winning. However, if Emmy were winning, I would be doing “Emmy” things right now.

  I would examine my decision not to help Marcus over and over again. I would call the team; tell them I’m sorry and that I will help after all. I would sit in the corner of my room and listen to Evanescence, Coldplay, and whatever else I could think of. I’d be cuddled into a ball, crying and lamenting until I fell asleep.

  Instead, I find the Replay Marcus gave me. It’s a snow globe that reenacts our first kiss in the car. The figures look just like us and they move. I do not throw it out the window like a raving maniac, but rather I let go and it slips from my fingers, and shatters onto to the city below.

  I head over to my bed and get under the covers. There are no tears shed tonight. There is no lengthy self-introspection about Marcus and how much he does or does not love me. I don’t ask what he must be feeling, or even where he is.

  I don’t drape the memory of us around my shoulders to keep me warm. I don’t inhale deeply, trying to find his scent in the room. I don’t seek his arms to hold and comfort me, and I don’t desperately ache for his touch.

  All I do before I fall asleep is reach over to look at the clock on my nightstand. I want to know exactly when it happened. I see the time and find the answer:

  11:03pm; at 11:03pm, Emerson H. Baxter stopped giving a fuck.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  THE STORY IS OVER

  I.M. (TOO HAPPY!)

  Well, my little winged ones, The Guardians are on strike; a half Demon, half Guardian Sib is in Noni. And we are no closer to getting the Council back. So, what do we do now?

  Um…hello, we throw a party!

  The First Lady, AKA Mrs. Cane, announced this morning that her and her husband would be hosting the Sapphire Ball next month. As you Angels know, the Sapphire Ball is a ball to commemorate the two biggest gifts Omnis has ever bestowed onto humanity. The two vast blue wonders of the human wo
rld: the sea and the sky.

  Given the state the human world has been in, not to mention our own, we thought the ball was a no go. Then I get a call from the one and only Mrs. Cane. She has convinced me to cohost with her and, as you know…I can throw a party!

  So, ladies gather your best piece of arm candy, your hottest designer gowns and try to get past security. This Sapphire Ball is here and given who it’s being thrown by…there promises to be sizzle, spark and since I’m sure a certain human wil crash the party in search of Marcus, scandal; lots and lots of scandal…

  On my way to school, I had broken a Splash. Now, I’m wishing I didn’t. Bianca would be classless enough to throw a party at a time like this; it’s the perfect “fame whore” thing to do, but then again why would the Angels agree to go? I guess they are just like us humans; they want to be distracted. I can understand that. Reality has pretty much sucked lately.

  So, Marcus and his wife will be hosting a ball. Perfect. And now I.M. Trouble and the rest of the Angel world are waiting for me to crash and cause a scene. Screw them. I’m not going anywhere near that thing. I’m not going to act like a lunatic stalker. They can all play out their drama without me.

  Then again, this ball is very important to Bianca. In fact, she’s probably attending to every detail to make sure it’s perfect. This ball is Bianca’s coming out to the world of Angels.

  Wouldn’t it be a shame if something were to go wrong and cause Mrs. Cane to lose herperfect composure?

  I quickly pull out my cell and call Tony.

  “Do you have my Seller’s Muse?” Tony says as soon as he knows it’s me.

  “Not yet, but soon. Hey, what can you tell me about the Sapphire Ball?”

  “It’s like what the Oscars are for humans. It’s the perfect place for the Angels to do the three things they love: get pretty, party and politic. Everyone who’s anyone shows up.”

  “Great. I need you to find someone for me,” I instruct Tony.

  “Emmy, I can’t. This is going to be my busy season; Demons pay a lot of money to buy mixtures that can get them inside the ball to kill as many Angels as possible.”