Evolution

by Sam Kadence

  Today was Rob’s twenty-first birthday; a day when a lot of young people drank themselves silly. Neither Joel nor I seemed to be invited to the celebration. Mad at Rob or not, I was not going to let him get hurt, even if he was going to be stupid.

  Mr. Tokie ended my torture around 4:00 p.m. by handing Rob a stack of cash and wishing him a happy birthday.

  A gruff “Thanks,” was all Rob offered before docking his guitar and heading for the door. I raced after him, falling into step beside him, even though his body language said he didn’t want me there.

  “If you’re going to drink, will you at least let me drive you home?”

  “What do you care? I’m not ‘real’ to you anyway.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I hurt you. But I’m not sorry for what I said. I just want you to accept me for being me and stop trying to ignore me or change who I am.”

  He paused, sighing heavily. “You really hate this music thing, don’t you?”

  “I love music. I love singing.”

  “But you never wanted the label—”

  “Hey, guys. What’s up?” Sarah, Joel’s girl, interrupted us. Where was Joel? Was he feeling better?

  “Hey, Sarah.” Rob swept her up into a hug. “I’m going to celebrate being legal. Want to come? I’ll buy you a few pretty cocktails.”

  “Sure. You coming too, Gene?”

  Did I really have a choice? “Where’s Joel?” I asked her.

  She wrinkled her nose at me. “Home resting.”

  “Will he be back soon?”

  Rob glared at me as he led us to his car. I crammed myself in the backseat before he could take off without me. Sarah ignored my question. Something about her seemed off tonight. Like she was pretending too hard. Both of them ignored me during the drive.

  The bar mirrored the ride. I sat in the corner, often nudged by a loud, large, drunken man who hadn’t shaved in a few years. Sarah planted herself firmly in Rob’s lap, swaying and moving to the beat of the music with the skill of a stripper. The two sang drinking songs, chugged beer, candy-flavored drinks, and shots, and acted like best friends. Time glazed by while I nibbled on pizza, chicken wings, and taco chips until the bartender announced closing. Finally.

  I dropped a stack of dirty dishes off at the counter and turned back to find Rob all over Sarah. Not that she was protesting. Every eye in the place watched like an X-rated movie played out right in front of them. If Rob’s hand pushed Sarah’s shirt up any farther, she’d really be putting on a show.

  “Can I have a glass of ice water, please?” I asked the bartender. He poured a glass. Seconds later I strode across the room and tossed the cold liquid into Rob’s face. He came up sputtering, cursing, and swinging. I ducked, which wasn’t hard since he could barely stand. He plowed into an empty table and fell awkwardly on his ass onto the floor.

  “Party’s over,” the bartender said quietly.

  “No problem. Sorry for the trouble.” I handed the empty glass back, then took the stack of bills out of Rob’s pocket. “For the trouble.” The money Tokie had given Rob left enough for cleanup and a hefty tip. I helped Rob off the floor and had to steady him several times before we could even make our way outside. “Night, Sarah. Hope Joel feels better soon.”

  She flinched but turned away, settling in with the other drunks.

  The fresh air in the parking lot eased some of the tension in my shoulders. Never knew a place could make me so uncomfortable until I had to spend hours there. Once Rob was strapped into the passenger seat of his car, we headed for his place.

  “You’re a selfish prick.”

  He was a mean drunk. Another reason I didn’t much like bars.

  “You never think about anyone, do you? Sarah was nice and warm.”

  “And Joel’s girlfriend.” Maybe that didn’t matter when he was drunk. Hell, maybe it didn’t matter to him at all. The silence stretched between us, widening the gap that had formed over the last few weeks.

  “Now I’m not good enough to talk to? Mr. High and Mighty, Zen Buddhist bastard, and all that ‘do unto others’ bullshit. Asshole.”

  Time passed slowly, and I drove like a grandma on Sunday morning. No need to have him spewing all over me because I turned the car too fast, or I had to brake at the last moment. The insults went on and on. At least we were almost to his place.

  “Genesis?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m gonna puke.”

  I swerved the car over two lanes and pulled off onto the grassy area. His door opened, and he leaned over, heaving for a good ten minutes. I stared at the stars overhead and the tree line in the distance, missing KC. Hopefully he’d gotten my message about taking care of Rob tonight. The allure of drinking never made sense to me. Swallow nasty liquid until it came back up later and left you in so much pain the next day, you wanted to die. How was that a good thing?

  The door closed. “I’m okay. You can go.”

  We reached his apartment without another incident, and I followed him inside. He moved really slow and wobbly, weaving back and forth down the hall until he got to his door. He struggled with the key for a few seconds before opening the door and heading straight to the bathroom. The door shut, and the water turned on. He heaved a few more times—not even the noise of the shower could cover that up. I huddled on the futon, wondering if I should go or not.

  I made a quick call to KC and left him another message about the night, letting him know I’d be home as soon as possible. The lap blanket Rob kept on the back of the couch became a pillow while I dozed a little, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. The water ran for almost two hours. Each time I’d fallen asleep, I jerked awake, fearing he’d fall and hit his head or something. Several times I knocked on the door, but got no answer.

  Finally the water shut off. He stepped out in just a pair of boxers, towel-drying his hair. “I feel like shit,” he said.

  I waited, watching him for more signs of dangerous drunkenness. He looked okay, a little more sober, at least. If I could get him in bed, he’d be safe from head injuries.

  “This is where you say ‘You don’t look like shit, Rob. You’re a babe. I’d do you.’”

  My expression must have said something because he sat down next to me but slid off the futon when he missed. He landed on the floor like that was what he had intended.

  “No? I don’t do it for you? I have to be tall, scary, and mean?”

  I got up and tugged him up by the armpits. He struggled to stand. “Let’s get you into bed so you can sleep it off.” We fumbled toward his room. He would careen away, his weight pulling me with him, and I’d have to fight to keep him upright. He finally fell in a big heap on the bed but dragged me down too. He was heavy.

  “What’s it like? Sex with another man?” He pressed me down onto the bed. I tried to wriggle out from beneath him, but he kept his grip tight. His lower body dug into my back. He reached around and began to unbutton my pants. “I can be what you want. I get it now.”

  Feeling his erection through the clothes had me panicking. “Let me go, damn it!” Still he held me down. I fought like my very life was at stake, flailing, kicking, and punching. His hands pinched, teeth bit, and body bruised mine until his hips bounced a little too hard, giving me an opening. I ripped myself away from him, nearly falling in my escape.

  I struggled to pull my clothes back together and made for the door. Distance, air, I couldn’t breathe. Shoes, where were my damn shoes?

  “Genesis?” He was behind me. Panic made me move faster. “Genesis, are you all right?”

  No. I didn’t know if I’d ever be all right again.

  “I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?”

  Obviously, I knew nothing. “I’m going home.”

  “Back to him.”

  Yes, oh God, yes.

  “He’s going to hurt you. I can feel it. You like boys. I get that. I can do that. I can be what you need. You don’t need him.”

  Yes—like the air I so desperate
ly needed while I hobbled down the hall, shoes in hand instead of on my feet—I did.

  Rob grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go back to him. Please don’t go.” His eyes glistened with tears. I’d never seen him cry before but couldn’t muster up any remorse. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m so sorry.”

  “Let me go.” My voice sounded detached, tired, and had the sharp edge of anger. Maybe this was why KC was angry so much. Anger made everything easier to deal with. “I’ll start screaming if you don’t.”

  Rob dropped my hand. I left, using the stairs instead of the elevator because I couldn’t figure out how to get the damn thing to go down. In the parking lot I stared at his car, knowing I couldn’t take it, and I had no money for a cab. A call to KC came up with another voice mail. So I called Cris, who arrived twenty minutes later.

  Cris saw everything. He’d always been that way. When he tried to hug me, I pushed him away and got into his car instead. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” His voice was so soft I barely heard it as he started his car and headed toward the highway.

  I shook my head, just wanting to go home. Home. What a funny word. Four letters, but such a big meaning. How quickly my place with KC had become home. Not just some place I slept, but someplace I felt safe, despite the ghosts. His arms made me feel complete. “Please just take me home.”

  Cris nodded, his free hand holding onto mine and massaging my palm as we drove. It was relaxing, and I napped a bit before he gently shook me awake. He offered to walk me up, but I feared falling apart if he kept treating me with kid gloves.

  The condo sat dark and empty. I needed KC, his touch, his pretty eyes. Even a sneer on his snarky lips would be okay. Silence greeted me instead. Several ghosts peered at me from the bedroom, eyes wide and staring.

  The memory of Rob’s hands crawled across my skin. Ignoring the hangers-on, I sought the shower, turning it to hot and collapsing to the floor to let the heat burn away the unwanted touch. I’d worked at the club for more than a year, been groped a thousand times, but this was something different. Each time someone touched me at work, I made sure to stay a reasonable distance away. Friends shouldn’t cross those lines. Maybe Rob and I really never had been friends. My heart ached.

  A female ghost followed me into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the toilet, humming softly, comfortingly. “Poor baby. Bad night. Bad thing.”

  Could she hear my thoughts? How else would she know what happened? Tears streamed from my eyes. I rolled up into a ball, shaking and sobbing. He hadn’t done anything other than touch me. Why was I so upset? Why couldn’t I get the feeling to go away?

  “Like you,” the girl whispered.

  “Yeah? Well, I’ve had enough of people liking me. So keep your hands to yourself,” I snapped at her.

  She smiled. “Hands off.”

  “Good.” I wasted more than an hour beneath the scalding spray of the shower. When I returned to the room, I ripped KC’s blue blanket off the bed and wrapped myself in it as though it could shield me from the worst of life. My heart pounded for a while, but the girl ghost stayed by my side, humming and soothing me until I could finally nod off. This time my dreams were sweet. No friends tried to rape me, boyfriends were always home, and ghosts weren’t scary.

  Chapter 21

  THE next morning I awoke to KC puttering around somewhere outside the bedroom. The warmth and comfort of the blanket made it hard to pull myself free from bed. Finally, I got up and flicked on the lamp, realizing I hadn’t put anything on last night.

  I looked like I’d been raped. Teeth marks covered my back and hips. A wide array of purple and black bruises blotched my skin all over. The shower hadn’t erased the hands or the damage. I ached all over.

  The door opened, and KC stood in the doorway. His eyes rolled from bruise to bite and back again. His expression said rage. Shadows poured into his face. Not even the pretty ones this time. His accusatory gaze hurt something so deep inside me I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t find the will to speak, barely enough to breathe, where to start? But KC had already left the room with that awful expression on his face. I pulled on some clothes and packed all I could fit of my things into a duffle bag. So much could change in just a few hours. Life could fall apart, the world could shatter, and I would be alone again.

  I thought about dialing Devon for a minute or two, but didn’t want to risk being stuck with his shadows too. So I sucked it up and called Cris again, who answered sleepily but promised to be on his way over. He was sort of a night owl.

  “I’ll be gone in a few minutes.” The words hurt to say, but my own problems overwhelmed my need to sooth KC’s ego today. I slipped on my shoes, made a pot of coffee, and left my key on the counter before I walked out the door. My breaking heart felt numbed, so as I thunked down the stairs, I tried to think about anything else.

  Cris arrived, and I got in, only to have Mikka jump into my lap before I shut the door. Neither Cris nor I spoke during the drive. I stroked my cat and dozed a little. When we arrived in the city, I discovered he’d taken me to someplace other than his loft.

  “I use this when I want some time to myself. So stay as long as you like.” Cris brushed the hair out of my face. “There’s a cookie jar filled with emergency cash in the back of the cupboard. You can pay me back when you hit it big. Okay?”

  I nodded, feeling tears sting my sight again. If he tried to hold me, I’d completely lose control. Mikka licked my fingers and bumped my hand with her head. Cris handed me the key, his expression careful but worried. I bowed my head to him in gratitude before getting out of the car and heading upstairs.

  Cris had always been such a great friend. Had I really known him only two years? Last night’s events had me doubting everyone. Could I really trust him? I remembered when we met.

  I HAD been club hopping, illegally. Everything was twenty-one and up and I was barely fifteen, but all my boyfriends were in their twenties. The Down Low was a great place to dance, but the guy who took me that night found another twink he liked better and ditched me. The room swayed from all the pressure of bodies and noise. So much energy. The crazy colors of other people’s auras made me ill. It was awful, and the reason I never did well in school.

  “He’s not worth it anyway.” A man sat down beside me. At first I just glanced at him, but I had to look back. He looked like a model, so beautiful, hair a pretty chocolate-brown with white streaked through the middle where his hair was spiked. His eyes were small but a pale shade of green, and his lips shaped like a long heart. “Should you be drinking?”

  This beautiful man was speaking to me. “It’s soda.”

  He smiled and it felt like the sun had broken through the building to shine just for me. “I’m Crispin, but you can call me Cris.”

  “Genesis,” I told him.

  Cris touched my hand, and the wild swirling of my senses came to a clarifying halt. “I can help you control that.”

  I blinked at him, fearing and hoping all at once. “Not sure what you mean.” Playing dumb worked most of the time.

  He leaned in close, cheek brushing mine in the most sensual way. “Your second sight, little one.” My heart pulsed heavily in fear, and my chest actually hurt. His face was still pressed to mine, and he kissed my ear gently. When he pulled away, the room spun. I almost fell out of the chair. Cris wrapped his arms around me and guided me to a corner booth away from the crowd. The world righted itself again with his touch.

  “Who are you?” I finally asked. The better question was what was he, but that just sounded rude to my ears.

  “I already answered that, even before you asked. As to the other unanswered question, let’s take some time to discover that together, okay?”

  “Sure.” I didn’t want him to let me go again if he could keep the crazy visions from my head. “What about the dead people? Can you help me not see them?”

  Cris shook his head. “I can help you control it, but they will never go away.”

  Any help was
better than the way I had been living. “Help me, please.” I remembered thinking he was so beautiful and wondering why I mattered to him at all. The years that passed afterward just brought us closer, first as lovers, then as student and teacher, then as friends. Now I wondered how I’d ever existed before knowing him. He was family to my heart. When I glanced out the window in the hall, I watched him finally pull away, still looking back, that concerned expression on his face.

  This home wasn’t nearly as glamorous as his other place. It felt more like a decorated apartment. Two bedrooms, an in-unit washer and dryer, and a good size kitchen, plus a big screen TV and several game consoles made it feel homey. I helped Mikka settle in, then took some cash and walked to the nearby grocery store for supplies before heading back to sulk in peace.

  Chapter 22

  Kerstrande

  HE HADN’T come home. I wondered and worried where he was. This morning he’d smelled of the other man. What was his name? Robby? Bobby? Donny? The guitarist. I never missed how that man stared at Gene with a look of possession. The marks all over Genesis spoke volumes. Those sorts of bruises don’t come from friendly play. Damn him for cheating on me. And damn me for caring so much.

  It’d been almost a month since I fed. A month when I’d given him every last bit of myself. Rewrote his music, beat up old foes, sacrificed friends, bled for him, and starved myself. Yet the kid crawled into someone else’s bed. We hadn’t had sex only because it was safer for him if we didn’t touch. Obviously that was all he wanted from me. I cursed myself for craving so much more than just sex and blood from him.

  He’d walked out this morning so quietly, eyes heavy but downcast. Shame, perhaps? The sun set and still he didn’t come back. His key had been left on the counter, like an impersonal good-bye, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I left the door unlocked, hoping he’d return and apologize or something. Wouldn’t take much….