As she kissed me goodbye, I felt unfulfilled and inexplicably angry—empty, desolate. Returning to my room, my eyes fell on the cold, lonely bed—a bed which had seen no action that day. An old, familiar feeling of tension bubbled to the surface. I wanted to hit something, or someone. It was a feeling the antidepressants had never been able to vanquish. Nothing could.
When I was thirteen, I started getting in fights. I’d always been made fun of, but until the eighth grade, I never defended myself. Then the wrath came. If someone called me a name, or knocked books out of my hands, or any of the other stupid crap bullies like to do, I lost it. I always ended up getting my ass kicked, but I couldn’t help myself. Once the rage took hold, my fists flew at anyone who stood in my way. After a couple of suspensions from school and an arrest, Family Court ordered me to take an anger management class.
The classes were held every Thursday at the Juvenile Detention Center. Each week, we covered a different topic: peer pressure, drug abuse, self-esteem, and overcoming impulsive behaviors. The counselor taught me to count to ten, to think about the consequences before I acted, to envision myself making a positive choice. He didn’t understand the rage.
My rage was a monster that lived inside me. When I was able to sleep, it was like the proverbial music that soothed the savage beast. On sleeping days, he was calm, docile, a lap dog. But, on those nights I couldn’t sleep—nights which turned into weeks—the monster was a pit-bull who jumped his backyard fence and attacked the neighbor who gave him a treat just days before. The monster was unpredictable, striking out without prejudice or provocation.
I could feel the monster awakening once again. He pawed and stretched, and paced the perimeter of his cage. With a sudden leap, he gnashed at the bars of his prison. I counted to ten, but that never worked, and the anger still pulsed inside me.
So, I did the only thing that had ever helped. I logged on to my computer and pulled up OwlBane. It wasn’t as good as Tales of Andrometis, but it was an outlet. I clicked the weapons button and traded my bow and arrow for a knife. I needed something personal, a weapon of passion.
I’d played OwlBane nearly every day, but not seriously. Not since Alex gave herself to me. Wielding my dagger, I slashed troll after troll, severing limbs and decapitating with abandon. Breathing heavily, I cleared the field of any living being and ran toward my kingdom.
Mordios was in horrible shape. Ares’ tower had been sacked yet again and his fields were scorched. It was time to come to terms with the fact that I could not defend my kingdom on my own. It was time to form alliances. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to find someone right away. Ideally, I would need to find more than one person to connect with.
I was still fairly new to the game and had yet to really prove myself. I decided to put out a few feelers, send a few emails, before hitting the sack. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, I figured. I was wrong. Surprisingly, I received some immediate replies and this necessitated my response. I emailed back and forth with a couple of guys and ended up in a quad of warriors. It was five AM when I fell asleep.
At seven, I took a thirty second shower and jogged out to my truck. Alex’s eyes roamed my body and I knew she knew what I’d been up to the night before. I was grateful she made no comment. I didn’t want to have one of those girlfriends. If push came to shove, however, I would choose Alex over the game. OwlBane was just a temporary diversion.
I pulled into the parking lot and did a double take when I looked at Alex. Knee length navy skirt, button-down oxford shirt, sensible shoes…why was Alex wearing her Honor Choir outfit? And then I remembered. She was leaving after lunch for a performance at the Fox. Crap. I would be going home alone after school. I had nothing to live for.
We had no classes together, but at least I’d get to see her in the cafeteria before she left. It was the only thing I had to look forward to, and the only reason I didn’t skip school entirely. I worked on OwlBane strategy all morning. When I saw her at lunch, I kissed her desperately and was relieved she didn’t push me away.
“What time will you be back?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Around five or five-thirty.”
“Text me and I’ll come pick you up.”
“I can get a ride,” she said.
“No. I’ll get you. I’m your boyfriend.” No way would I allow some Honor Choir asshole to drive her home. I didn’t want her to go in the first place. Anything could happen on that bus. I silently cursed the fact that she didn’t belong to an all-girl choir. The jealousy was all-consuming when I walked her to the Choir room.
The moment she was out of my sight, I left the school building, got in my truck, and drove home. OwlBane and Mordios could help me survive the day. I sat at my computer until Alex called at five. I reluctantly signed off the game and left to retrieve her.
She looked tired, stressed, and breathtakingly beautiful when she stepped down from the bus. I wanted her more than ever. Some geeky dude stepped off the bus behind her, and I thought I saw him looking at her ass. He said something and she turned to look at him. She smiled at the asshole. I felt like getting out of my truck and beating the shit out of him, but I couldn’t. The moment I set eyes on her, I’d become aroused and there was no way could I walk in front of anyone.
I felt unaccountably angry when she climbed in beside me. My jealousy at seeing her talking to another guy far outweighed my pleasure at being with her at last. I scowled at her and she recoiled.
“I’m sorry you had to drive over and pick me up,” she said, patting my knee. “I could have asked my dad to get me.”
Her gentle touch relaxed me and the monster inside me curled up in the corner of his cage. I leaned over and kissed her, secretly hoping every guy in the parking lot was watching while I staked my claim. “I missed you,” I murmured. “How long does this time of the month last?”
She blushed. “Like, three or four more days.”
I felt guilty for bringing it up, but it was something I had to learn to deal with now that I had a girlfriend. How would I survive the next four days?
“Do you want to eat dinner at my house?” I asked.
“I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Besides, my parents will freak out if I’m gone all the time.”
“So, I don’t get to see you at all?”
“I’ll come over for a little while.”
When we pulled into my driveway, she glanced at her house warily before following me to my front porch. “I should at least let my parents know I’m home.”
“Call them.” I guided her inside my house. Pushing her up against the living room wall, I kissed her. I ran one hand under her untucked shirt and squeezed her breast. With the other hand, I gripped her behind and pulled her closer.
“Oh, great,” I exclaimed when I heard my mom’s car pull into the driveway. She always ruined everything.
We went into the kitchen and Alex called her parents. I could hear her dad screaming at her through the cell-phone. I gathered it was time for her to call it a night. Her eyes were glassy with tears when I led her outside. She said a simultaneous hello and goodbye to my mom and walked home stiffly. I hated her father with an unholy passion.
Another day of brutal sexual deprivation left me angry and depressed. I pretended to be normal in front of my mother, but inside, the monster was howling. Alex called me at seven and we talked about nothing for two hours. I asked Alex if I should consider getting my schedule changed so we could have some classes together. She told me I could give it a try, but it was probably way too late in the semester. It was torture knowing she was somewhere in school building, likely being accosted by our fellow students, while I was too far away to defend her. It pissed me off that all these guys were going to try to take advantage of her newfound sexuality. After all, I was practically the one who discovered her. Those other dudes had ignored her for years, but I had seen her all along.
Chapter 7- Alex
Let us descend now unto greater woe
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br /> (Canto VII, line 97)
I actually got asked out, but it was only by a Junior, so it didn’t really count. It was flattering, though. I thought about telling Sean, but didn’t. When we were just friends, I could tell him almost everything. Not now, though. He’d become really jealous lately and not in a good way.
Just months ago, I used to fantasize about the heroes in my romance novels. I longed to be protected and desired by a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. Sean was such a man…well, sort of. It was funny how the character traits of jealousy, bossiness, and over-protectiveness seemed so appealing when displayed by a bronzed, muscular, rich vampire/shape-shifter. When Sean acted that way it kind of scared me. I liked the idea of inspiring such lust and possessiveness in a man, rendering him so helpless with desire that he was out of control, but in reality, it was claustrophobic.
Sean seemed pissed when he picked me up from school. He didn’t have to come get me. I told him a million times that I could get a ride home. He was probably upset because I pulled him away from his game. I hoped he wasn’t getting in too deep.
I didn’t want to go into his house because I knew I would get in trouble with my dad, but I couldn’t say no to Sean. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him. I just hated to disappoint him.
When I called my dad to tell him I was going to hang out with Sean, he yelled, “Get your ass home.”
My dad was sitting in his usual recliner when I walked in the front door of my house. Empty beer cans lay scattered around the floor. I counted them, hoping he was drunk enough not to be belligerent. He wasn’t.
“So, this is how you spend all your time, now? Are you dating that loser? If I find out he’s put one hand on you, I’ll kick his ass.” His speech was a little slurred, but not enough. He was at least two more beers away from being good and drunk.
“Dan,” my mom said. “He’s a nice boy. He and Alex are just friends.” She stared at me, willing me to back her up.
“He’s not a boy. If he’s old enough to mess around with my daughter, then he’s old enough to face me. He’s eighteen—a grown man. Legally, anyway. If he had a pair—which I doubt—he wouldn’t have tried to kill himself over a game.”
“Well if you don’t think he has a pair, why are you so worried about me hanging out with him?” I snapped before I could stop myself. My mother gasped. I’d never contradicted my father before.
“Go to your room, smart-ass. You know what I meant. If I find out you two…” he trailed off. I was up the stairs and in my room before he could resume his tirade. I cried for a while, then called Sean. Only he could make me feel better.
***
I went over to his house after school the next day. I was still off limits thanks to Mother Nature, so I sat on his bed and did my homework while he played his game. I glanced up occasionally, appalled to see how absorbed he was. His intensity was disturbing.
“Shit!” he shouted. I tensed up in anticipation. My dad behaved the same way when he watched football, so I knew what to expect. Soon, he would shout again, or possibly throw something. If he was anything like my father, he would likely sulk for the rest of the afternoon and take out his unhappiness on everyone he came in contact with.
Sighing deeply, I closed my math book. Men were such a pain. I decided to read for a while. I sifted through my backpack and located my vampire romance novel. It only took a few minutes before I became the heroine, before I succumbed to the unimaginable joy of submitting to the dominance of the enigmatic Dimitri.
“Whatcha readin’?” Sean asked, yanking me from my fantasy world.
“Um…my book,” I replied, blinking a few times to reorient myself with reality.
“One of those vampire things?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I was reluctant to admit to my questionable choice in reading material. Sean sat down next to me and took the book from my hands. He scowled at the ripped, shirtless, brooding man on the cover.
“So, is this the kind of guy who turns you on?” he asked, frowning. I could almost taste his bitterness and insecurity.
“You know what kind of man I like,” I said, putting my hand on his thigh.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,” he joked.
The danger had passed. I was relieved that he seemed more relaxed. He tossed my book on the bed and pulled me close. His kisses were slow, filled with longing. When he pulled away from me, he moaned, “Oh, God, Alex. How many more days?”
“Just two maybe.”
“I don’t think I can wait,” he whined.
“You waited eighteen years,” I said.
“Yeah, well, now that I’ve had a taste of what it’s like, I can’t live without it.” He put his hand on my breast. “God, I want you.”
I’d never felt so desired, so guilty. Poor Sean was so overcome by lust, he could hardly control himself. Maybe I should stay home when my monthly visitor came to call. It was my fault he was suffering. I mentioned this to Sean.
“No. I have to see you every day. It doesn’t matter if we do anything or not. After all, I waited for you for years. What’s a few days? It’s only sex. I can’t live one day without seeing you, Alex,” he insisted.
I almost wept when he told me that. It was just like the scene in my book where Candace tells Dimitri that she wants to go back to the orphanage and see the nuns who raised her and he tells her that his soul is tied to hers and they can’t spend one night apart. Or, the last book I read where Sergei tries to convince the Vampire King to destroy him because he can’t stand to live an eternity without his one true love. Who would have thought Sean could be so romantic? It just made me love him all the more.
***
School sucked the next day. We were running late thanks to Sean. I could tell he’d been up late playing his game. His hair was still wet when he got into his truck. I started to speak to him, but he gave me the look—the look that basically told me to keep my mouth shut. I peered out the window and left my anger to simmer in silence. I thought I was enough for him and that by giving myself to him, he would no longer have such an attachment to the game. That’s what he led me to believe.
Sean walked me to my first period class and kissed me in the hallway. When I sat down next to my friend Chelsea, she looked at me in dismay. “What?” I hissed as Mr. Cook closed the classroom door.
“Sean? Seriously?” she whispered back. I deliberately stared straight ahead while Mr. Cook took attendance. I waited while he explained our assignment and told us to work in pairs.
Using my History book as a prop, I pointed at it like I was totally absorbed in the essay question on page 300. I was not. “What do you mean?” I asked. High school students were notoriously scattered, but when it came to gossip or whispered conversations during class, we were able to work around almost insurmountable odds. We could maintain the flow of conversation despite long-winded teachers, pop-quizzes, and intercom announcements. Many of my fellow students could barely keep up with a ten second conversation with a parent; however, at school, they could respond to a question a peer asked an hour ago without missing a beat.
“Are you two, like, together?” she asked.
“Yeah, kind of,” I replied, blushing.
“You can do so much better, Alex.”
“Really? Cause, I don’t exactly see a line of guys outside my house. Sean is nice. We’ve been friends forever,” I said.
“Friends? That’s fine. Going to Homecoming together? Borderline okay. But letting him kiss you? That’s just wrong. How far have you gone with him?” she asked. I blushed and looked away, praying for a miracle to come along and distract her. “Oh, Alex, no,” she blurted, just a bit too loud. A few people turned to look at us.
I was relieved when class was over and I could escape the ever-intrusive Chelsea. By the time I met up with Sean in the cafeteria, I viewed him a little differently. Over the past few weeks, I’d overlooked some of his more obvious flaws, but after what my friend said, I couldn’
t help but scrutinize him more closely. His clothes never fit quite right, his dark hair was overgrown and messy, he badly needed to shave, and he had a habit of snorting when he laughed. Despite the hospitalization, medication, and regular diet of sex, he still hadn’t shed the overly intense, borderline-manic look in his eyes.
“Hey, baby,” he said just a bit too loud. I sat down next to him, careful to stay out of kissing distance. I didn’t want to be seen with him, all of a sudden. “What’s wrong?” he asked with an expression of deep concern.
I felt my doubts slip away. He was always so sweet. He was the only one who cared about me. “Nothing. You know. School sucks,” I said.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.
“Yes, but I can’t. I’ve got a test in Chemistry, remember? Although, I’ll probably fail it,” I muttered. It was my worst subject.
“I’ll make you feel better later. Is it over yet?” he whispered.
“Almost. Not yet,” I said, looking around to make sure no one had picked up on our intimate conversation. I wished Sean would stop bringing it up. I was relieved when the bell rang and I could escape to English class. It was the only class I liked.
***
After school, I wanted to go to my own house, but Sean had other ideas. “Do you want to ride around with me while I pick up applications?” he asked. He’d spoken about getting a job for about three years, but this was the first time he’d ever made the slightest effort. I was proud of him.
“Is it wise to bring a friend when you apply for jobs?”
“You can sit in the truck and read while I go inside and pick up applications,” he said. “Please. If you don’t come with me, we won’t be able to spend any time together.”
“Should I apply for some jobs too?” I had some job experience. During previous summers, I’d worked as a camp counselor at a daycare program at a local park.
The Fifth Circle Page 5
