Justice just rolls his eyes at Cross’ banter.
“So.” Cross shifts his attention to me. “Liv, is it?”
I shake my head cautiously.
“Nice.” He eyeballs Justice with an inapt smile. “I’ve been told you are somewhat of a mystery.” I feel his intrigue. “A purple aura, very rare.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He stares me down right there in the hallway with his beady blue eyes. His inward desires turn my stomach; he’s feeling way too many inappropriate things during his thorough examination.
I try to stay as close to Justice as possible, every minute I’m exposed to Cross the slimier he becomes. His energy reminds me of one of those dirty old men who should be banned from the mall on Saturday night. Yuck.
We follow Cross into a country-style kitchen. The decor looks exactly as I imagined it, like it was staged to be shown. Not a thing was out of place, not even the bottle of dish soap.
Justice and I sit down at the granite island in the middle of the kitchen. Cross is standing across from us. I’m glad for the separation.
I’ve noticed Justice has this way of communicating through his eyes, so he doesn’t need to say a word for me to understand that he has little patience for Cross and wants to get this over and done with. I am more than willing to comply, unfortunately for me Cross has other ideas.
“So, Liv” he looks down at me. Just the way he says my name makes me crave a shower. “Should we get right down to it or break the ice with some small talk?”
“Down to what?”
“Down to see what’s going on in there,” he points to my chest coming dangerously close to it with his boney finger. Justice defensively shifts on his stool. Cross backs off. It feels as if he is testing some sort of boundary.
“You’ll have to excuse my ignorance, because I have no idea how you go about finding what’s going on inside me. Everyone makes it sound like there’s some John Grisham novel shoved in there.”
“Maybe there is. However, I won’t know unless I look.” He gives me a slimy smirk.
“How are you going to do that?” I jerk my head back.
He arrogantly leads over the granite tabletop and holds out a long perfect hand.
“What no crystal ball?” I ask half panicked.
“Crystal balls are for amateurs,” he waves me, off. “I haven’t used one in centuries.”
I look over at Justice; I can see the reflection of my uncertain face in his crystal blue eyes. He nods me on. “The sooner the better” he encourages.
I look back at Cross, and then down at his awaiting hand. He’s anxious for me to touch him. I am repulsed.
I slowly move my tiny hand toward his. Before I touch it, he says with an aroused smile, “this will not be pleasant for you, but extremely erotic for me,” and grabs my hand before I have a chance to pull back. He’s swifter than I thought. He traps me like a snake striking at a mouse. I hear Justice’s barstool slam on the floor, but it’s too late. Cross is already inside me. He invades every piece of me, like he’s on a runaway roller coaster that’s screaming through my being. While he feels every inch, I feel completely helpless as he probes at the memories in my brain; I feel insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams all stemming from inside my mind. I’m not entirely sure if they are all my own.
Cross revels in my body. I understand now what he meant when he said it would be erotic for him. He thrives in my subconscious like a pig in fresh mud, while I feel dirty, polluted even. Boundaries have been crossed. I want it to end; I want him out, and before I could think of another want, I am crashing to the floor, and it’s dark inside my head.
The pain pulses through my body before I became fully conscious. I don’t want to open my eyes, but I can hear Justice pleading with me to come around.
“Liv? Liv? Can you hear me?” He speaks softly. “Liv open your eyes,” he shakes me lightly by my uninjured shoulder.
“No.” I protest with a groggy voice.
“Ugh,” he sighs. “Finally.”
He places something cold and wet against my neck. “Hey!” I jerk up, and snap open my eyes.
“Water?” He shoves a bottle of Poland Spring in my face.
I huff and grab for the bottle. I’m surprising thirsty, like the Sarah desert left a remembrance for me in my throat.
“What happened?” I ask after I slug down the water.
“Cross happened.”
“Enough said.” I collapse back onto the sofa.
“I thought you said he was only going to hurt my ego?”
“The days not over yet.” He tells me.
“Do you think there is a limit on mental attacks in one weekend?” I ask him with drained eyes.
“I hope so for your sake.”
I look around the unfamiliar room. “How long was I out?” I can smell something aromatic coming from the kitchen. When we got here the only scent that lingered was fresh lilies in the air.
“Almost two hours.”
“Two hours!”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it though, it gave me a chance to have a nice long chat with Cross while you slept.”
“About what?”
“About, how he didn’t have to be so coarse with you.” His eyes narrowed. “And how he didn’t have to enjoy it so much. There was no need for him to treat you like that. He could have read you with more finesse.”
“What exactly did you say?” I am overly curious.
“I basically told him that if he did that again I would break both of his boney hands starting from his finger tips and then work my way up. That way, he would have to start using a crystal ball again,” he leers contently. “I think he got the message.”
His threat surprised me; my honor has never been defended before.
“Can you get up?” He reaches out a hand to me. “I want to get this over with as quickly as possible and get you out of here.”
“No argument there.” I more than willingly grab his hand. I am more than willing for any type of physical contact with him. No matter, how much it hurts.
Justice walks me back into the kitchen; Cross is standing over the stove stirring a pot of something.
“Soup?” He offers.
I decline.
I sit back down at the scene of the crime; where he crossed me. This time Justice, pulls his stool close to mine. I can feel the warmth of his skin radiating off him. He makes me feel safe.
Cross turns down the burner and retakes his position across the granite island. He has the most appalling, satisfied look on his face.
“Did you have a nice nap?” He asks.
“Wonderful.” I answer.
His beady blue eyes meet mine, and I feel an overwhelming sense of haughtiness. I stare back at him with utter repugnance, never in my life have I felt someone with such inflated arrogance.
“So what did you see Cross?” Justice is anxious to get him talking.
“Many things.” He smirks.
“Anything worth sharing?” He sneers.
I fully understand the disdain Justice showed towards Cross yesterday in Daniel’s study; I am quickly adopting the same feelings.
“More than you can believe.” His eyes widen.
“Well can you get on with it already.” Justice bites.
At least I’m the only one Justice gives attitude to. I don’t know if I should find comfort in that fact considering what a slime ball Cross is. He deserves every impertinent tone Justice gives to him.
“Liv, tell me about the movie theater,” his eyes are still on Justice.
The movie theater? Why is he bringing that up?
The last time I went to the movies, I was twelve, and it was not a pleasant experience. Actually, it was one of the worst nights of my life. That one visit hindered me from ever stepping foot inside a cinema again. Even the thought of doing so makes me shutter.
I say nothing. I just sit there resisting the memory.
“Well,” he says smugly
, my silence is making him impatient. His eyes fixate on me. “We don’t have all of eternity. Well-” he corrects himself “maybe you don’t anyway.”
“What exactly would you like to know?” I ask bitterly. The resistance in my head has slipped out through my mouth.
“Everything, every- little- detail.” He mocks, leaning his elongated, button up covered torso over the counter. His face coming dangerously close to mine, the same way his finger had come dangerously close to my chest. His face sparked the same reaction from Justice as his finger, but this time Cross isn’t so quick to back off.
Ugh, I totally can’t stand this guy. He is so aggravating.
“I’m waiting.” He says.
“Liv, what happened in the movie theater?” Justice snaps. His patience is wearing thin. I hate it when he talks to me like that. However, what I hate even more is having to relive this story.
I suddenly began to feel claustrophobic and embarrassed. That night was so horrific and all too vivid in my mind. I can still hear Nikkee's worried voice echoing through the hallway of pink tiled bathroom stalls.
There was a long silent pause in the airy kitchen, both Cross and Justice waited for me to speak; their eyes engrossed on me.
“Liv?” Justice’s voice turned soft as he touches my bare arm. His warm cashmere hand ignites flames within my tense muscles.
I feel unstable.
I wonder if he’s aware that every time he touches me my heart beats out of control and a burning sensation, courses through my veins. It’s almost too much for me to bear. It’s odd feeling something so strong for someone I barely know.
“Tell us what happened.” I can hear his curiosity get the better of him.
I give him a solemn look. His small gesture breaks my stare, and my silence.
“About 10 years ago, I went to the movies with a few friends. It was innocent enough.” I shrug. “One of my girlfriends, Dina, had a serious crush on a boy at school. You know, one of those intense adolescent ones. It just so happened, she ran into him that night. It isn’t really a coincidence considering there was only one movie theater near our tiny town, and mostly everyone hung out there. We already bought tickets to some PG movie, but Jake, Dina’s crush, talked us into sneaking into an R rated thriller with him and his friends. We were hesitant; Nikkee and me, but Dina was persistent.”
I look at the two of them totally self-conscious as they hang onto my every word.
I hate where this is going.
“We nonchalantly slipped ourselves into the adult movie and sat with Jake and his friends. The movie was jam-packed with killings and bloody fistfights. In all honesty, it was pretty bad.” I can feel my eyes dry up as I cease blinking reliving each moment in my head. “It isn’t until later, when I was least expecting it, that a particular part of the movie attacked me.”
I stop speaking.
I don’t want to go on; I don’t want to let my mind wander down that discomforting path. I crease my eyebrows and look down at the floor wishing I could disappear.
“Come on Liv,” Cross’ scummy voice encourages. “You’re just getting to the good part.”
I don’t have to look at him to know he has a perverted smile painted across his face.
I close my eyes and turn my head away from them. I can see the images from that awful night clearer than a bell. Nikkee’s young face, the red theater seats occupied by my classmates, soda and candy shoved into every cup holder, and seventy pairs of eyes all glued to the big screen; every single pupil ingesting the same sexual stimulation at the same time.
“Well…?” Justice urges; his curiosity peaked.
The particularly explicit sex scene made me lose my mental grip. I breathe deeply and let out a sigh. "Well, let’s just say it isn’t what was happened on-screen that affected me.” I look up at him. I can’t even imagine what my face looks like, but I feel distraught.
“It started to get hot, my skin, not the room. My heart began to pound in my ears and there were sensations I didn’t understand bouncing between my legs. They ran all the way up my spine, causing me to erupt into goose bumps. I felt like I was going to explode from the pulsating inside me.”
I cover my face with many hands totally humiliated.
“Oh my God.” Justice voiced.
“I told you the good part was coming.” Cross felt compelled to comment.
I wholly understand why Cross is called a snitch and why Justice warned me about my ego getting hurt, although right now, it feels more like it’s getting beaten.
“I got so dizzy I thought I was going to throw up in my bucket of popcorn. It took everything I had to get up out of my seat and run out of the theater. Thank God I was sitting on the end. If I had to climb over people, I can’t even fathom what may have happened. Possibly spontaneous combustion.” I shake my head humiliated.
Justice stares at me disbelieved.
“That’s fine and dandy, Liv, but get to the good part already.” Cross pushes.
“It gets better than that?” Justice looks at Cross wide eyed.
Maybe it’s a good thing Justice repels me. I can’t stand to know how he feels about me right now. I do, however, know how Cross is feeling and let’s just say, yuck!
“I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in the farthest stall I could find; I curled into a ball and tried to rock the vertigo out of me. I don't even know how long I was in there. The next thing I remember is hearing Nikkee’s panicked voice echoing down the pink tiled walls.”
“Ah ha!” Cross put his finger on his nose “that is the good part.”
“That’s the good part?” Justice says with his lip curled. “Her friend yelling down a hallway?”
“Noooah!” Cross corrects him. “What happened when between the rocking and the yelling, that's the good part.”
“I’m totally confused.” I say. “Why is that the good part?”
“You tell me.” He says raising one of his white eyebrows.
“I can't tell you. Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, try to remember.”
I stare at him blankly.
“Remember what? I just relived that entire horrible night for you.”
“Did you really though?” He asks as if I’m hiding something.
“What! Yes!” I say defensively.
“Than what happened between the rocking and the echoing?”
I look over at Justice as if to ask, what the hell is with this guy, hoping he would have some answers.
He just shakes his head, mimicking my cluelessness.
“I have no idea!” I look back at Cross. “What did I come here for if you are not going to help me figure this out?”
“I am helping you, by letting you remember on your own.”
“Hasn’t my brain been contorted enough today?”
“If you are as powerful as I think, it can take much more.” He curves the corners of his lips up. “So concentrate.” He orders, flattening his facial expression and thinning his beady eyes at me.
It feels like I’m conversing with a character from A Clock Work Orange the way Cross bounces around emotions. What is it with immortals and mood swings?
I’m frustrated.
“What kind of oracle are you?”
“The good kind, now think.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, if I did, I wouldn't need to be here!” I raise my voice.
Cross laughs at me, “well aren't we the tough one. Why don't you try redirecting that energy down an avenue that will actually get you somewhere?” He patronized. “If you want to know what’s going on inside you, you need to connect to the root of problem.”
I look over at Justice, this time absolutely infuriated. I’m getting nowhere fast, and the more Cross ridicules me the more I want to punch him.
“This is the great and powerful oracle Daniel said could help me! All he did was inappropriately feel up my insides, wind up my psyche, and then go tell me to figu
re out the good part myself! Magic is twisted!” I stare Justice down.
Cross lets out a huge laugh at my expense. “Well, Justice, you have quite the spitfire.” He says overly amused.
Justice gives Cross one of his infamous dirty looks, and gets up off of his stool. He grabs at my arm and pulls me away from Cross and the kitchen. There was no pleasure in this touch.
He forcefully pushes me into the bathroom and slams the door.
“What are you doing?!” I pull my arm away.
“Well, since the kitchen isn’t helping you remember anything I thought sitting by a toilet might. Stay in here and try to do what Cross says. I know he’s kind of a scum bag, and you can’t stand him, but he’s powerful and he knows something. So the sooner you figure out what the hell he’s talking about the better!”
“Kiiinnd of a scumbag.”
Justice rolls his eyes. “We need to figure out what your deal is, and he is the only one who can do that short of a pathologist. So stay in here and do what he says.” He orders.
I huff, stamp my foot and cross my arms. “Fine.” I spit back his favorite word at him.
“Nice to see you are embracing the moment. Try to hurry up. Stick your head in the toilet if you think it will help.” He slams the door behind him.
I stare at the reprimanding door livid and fidgeting out of frustration.
I pace the inside of the tiny half bath whose walls are a mustard yellow. Walking back and forth does nothing to calm me. I try to remember that stinking night, the one I so predominately pushed out of my head. I close my eyes and try to concentrate. I picture myself pummeling Cross, which actually eases my stress. I slide down the wall and sit Indian style on the floor.
I remember the tile being cold, and wishing it would all go away. I also remember the awful smell of the toilet water- ick. I find myself rocking back and forth in the same protective ball as that night. The same position I’m always in when the world becomes too much.
Wait?! I do vaguely remember something. I stop rocking. A warm draft under the stall that crept up my back, at least I thought it was a draft, or maybe it was an air current from one of those hand dryers? However, I was so far away from any of those. The stall I picked was way in the back far from any sinks, or people, for that matter. Is that it, the draft? That’s what I am supposed to remember? Something so small?
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