HIM

by Brittney Cohen-Schlesinger

  “That must have been nice.” I detected a hint of envy in her high voice. Adam was, no doubt, still on her mind. I didn’t expect him to escape the depths of her brain for a couple more months, maybe even years. “What is your lover boy up to?”

  “Sleeping,” I answered, peaking out of my doorway to where the sofa was. Jensen was no longer on it, but instead, staring out the big window across from it on the other side of the bachelor-pad décor room, overlooking the calm ocean. His large hands were pressed firmly against the glass, body stiff.

  “Uh, Tor,” I said, calling her by her favorite nickname to butter her up. She would have been annoyed if I didn’t have a good excuse to leave . . . which I didn’t; using the nickname-card was the best I could do. “I’m sorry to do this but can I call you back later?”

  There was a tiny pause. “Sure,” she said through her teeth. “On one condition.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You have to come to my Fourth of July party.”

  My stomach sank. The last time I’d attended a party in that house was with Cole. Did I have the strength to go through that again? Even with Jensen on my arm?

  “Uh,” I mumbled.

  “Jensen can come, too!” she chimed.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I understand if you don’t want to go because…” she trailed off, “but it’d be nice to see my best friend again. I mean, after all, this might be the last time we see each other for a while before the big move.”

  “I know,” I spoke softly, feeling guilty about lying to her beforehand about Jensen and I moving together. “Alright, we’ll go.” I regretted it before I even said it; but I guessed I owed her this much.

  “Great!” she squealed. “It starts at eight and ends whenever!” Her laugh was deafening. But she was happy and that’s all I wanted for her.

  “Awesome!” I said, trying to maintain the same level of enthusiasm as her.

  “Lucy’s gonna be so psyched!” Tory mused. “Ever since our shopping trip to Detroit all she’s been talking about is how fashionable you are. Ryan and Sam will be more than happy that you’re coming, too! You haven’t been to a party in so long. I’m really glad you’re coming to this!”

  “Yeah, me too,” I fibbed, imagining what the evening would look like - the Drunken Trio stumbling their way through the sea of people, drink in hand, wearing the tightest, unflattering dresses ever created, hitting on anything with a pulse. Meanwhile, Tory would play hostess, as usual, looking beautiful in something she’d put away for this specific occasion; she’d casually take a martini in her hand and sip it, daydreaming of Adam waltzing into her party and her life all over again. During all of this, I’d be there with Jensen, trying not to think about the anniversary of my rape.

  Sounds like the perfect blast of a time.

  “I’ll let you go now,” she sang.

  “Thanks. See you then, if not before.”

  “This is so awesome!” she giggled and then we hung up.

  I walked out to Jensen, remaining quiet, trying not to think about the upcoming bash.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” said his deep voice, startling me.

  “Do what?” I asked, standing next to him. His expression was blank, bare. He was still staring out the window. He turned a little bit away from me so I could scarcely see his face.

  What is up with him?

  “Hang up with Tory. You could have talked a little while longer.”

  “I wanted to be with you,” I admitted, cozying up to him. “She invited us to a Fourth of July party at the beach house…if you’d like to go.” His right arm wrapped around my shoulders protectively but still looked in the same direction. Jensen was on edge. Something was wrong.

  The sky was a deep red-orange as the sun began to set in the west. Birds flew to the east, flapping their delicate wings in harmonization. The trees swayed slightly as the cool summer breeze passed by. Everything outside seemed relaxing and serene. But the weary feeling that Jensen portrayed in here was coming off in waves - more like tidal waves - an uncomfortable sensation since we were standing in front of a scene so tranquil.

  “Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “But only if you want to. You don’t have to set foot in that house again, Avalon. Not after what happened to you there.”

  “I know.” I shrugged.

  “I honestly don’t want you going there, but it’s not up to me.” Jensen didn’t look at me. Not once. What was going on? What wasn’t he telling me? And then I saw it - why he went still; why he wouldn’t look at me. He was crying.

  And oh my goodness, he grew a slight beard!

  “Hey, hey, Jensen,” I cooed, forcing him to turn towards me. I pushed aside the fact that he had a beard for a second and focused on the bigger issue at hand. “Are you alright?” I’d never seen a man cry in real life before. It was nothing like in the movies. It was worse - the saddest sight I’d ever seen. Just then, something popped into my head: Jensen’s voice saying, “Angels don’t cry”. Last night at the beach Jensen filled me in on some things: the details about aging through the mind and not the body and how they didn’t cry - didn’t feel many emotions because they’d learned to disconnect their thoughts from their feelings. So how and why was this happening to him? “Jensen, please talk to me.”

  He sighed heavily and then sunk down to the floor, eyes staring straight ahead - like he was in a trance, a murky daze as his eyes clouded over. His lovely face was puffy, red and stained with tears. A single droplet slid down the perimeter of his cheek. I sat down next to him and wiped it away with my thumb.

  “Ava,” he said hoarsely, “what’s happening to me?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t.” Whatever it was, it was scaring him. I’d never seen Jensen look so frightened for himself. For me, yes. But for himself? It just didn’t happen. He was too confident.

  “One minute, I’m trying to fall asleep,” he said, “and the next, I’m crying.” He shrugged his shoulders, a light laugh escaping his throat as he rolled his tear-filled blue eyes. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder.

  “What were you thinking about while you were trying to get to sleep?”

  “You.” He blinked back more tears.

  “What about me?” I spoke no louder than a whisper.

  “About what happened to you last year in that house. If I had been there I would have literally killed him,” he growled. “I’m just so sorry you had to go through everything alone.”

  “I had Tory,” I murmured.

  “Not like you would have had me, love. I could have found him. I could have ripped his heart out from his chest and watched his soul disappear from his eyes. I could have protected you from him. But The Angel Vaad would not let me leave. They would not allow me to know what had hurt you so deeply. They refused letting me come see you, to protect you even from a distance. I BLAME THEM!” he shrieked, staring at the ceiling, as if to curse The Middle Plane rulers above. That was when the heavy sobbing began.

  I held onto him tightly, reassuring him I was there and that he was safe in my arms. “Jensen, I love you so much. What happened to me wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m so sorry, Avalon,” he whimpered. I’d never seen him so unguarded. He turned to face me. “I think…I’m turning into a - ” he stopped before finishing.

  “You think you’re turning into a what, Jensen?”

  With a deep breath, he told me. “Human,” he said.

  “What?” I chuckled. “No you’re not.”

  “I am.”

  “How?”

  He took a deep breath. “I thought it was only a myth amongst the angelic world, an old wives’ tale. But it’s obvious it’s the truth.” He sighed. “The more time an angel spends in the human world the more human they become. Eventually, they fully develop into a human…which means they have the ability to die.”

  At this moment, I saw a future - a real human future - with Jensen.

  “Isn’t this what you w
ant though…to be human? To get away from The Angel Vaad?” I asked, confused.

  “Not when there’s a Shadow Angel coming after me. My powers need to be intact by the time he or she gets here. I need to be able to protect myself. But more importantly, you. This is bad, Avalon. Really bad.”

  SEVENTEEN.

  One year ago today was the day my life changed forever.

  He had made sure of that. I had survived an entire year after my rape - after I’d trusted Cole with all my heart and he took the most precious gift I would ever give someone I loved away from me. I’d forever be scarred. However, with Jensen by my side I had a habit of forgetting that night. He was my protector, my angel sent from above. Literally.

  Tonight was Tory’s Fourth of July party. Jensen was, at first, ultimately against the idea of us going. He even tried talking me out of it. But then he realized it would be good for me to get out of the house and have fun. Besides wanting to see Tory once more I personally thought it was silly to attend such a party, considering we knew a Shadow Angel would be coming after Jensen shortly. I didn’t want any of the partygoers to be in danger. But Jensen said no one would get hurt so I trusted him.

  I put on a white, knee-length halter-top party dress, with a long silver necklace to go with the HIM pendent necklace I always wore now - this necklace would need to get me through tonight - and a charcoal gray cardigan. The weather in Michigan was out of control so I didn’t know if my outfit would withstand the climate and atmosphere.

  My hair was in a long braid down my back. Jensen yanked it playfully as he walked by me, the scent of his cologne filling my room. He was wearing a white V-neck t-shirt with a black cardigan paired up with dark-washed jeans. He was always dressed so nice.

  “You look lovely, Avalon,” he said, kissing me softly. You could see every muscle peeking out from his t-shirt, his pecks so touchable.

  I blushed. “Jensen, do you think we should really be going to the party?” I asked, glancing at the clock. It was 7:29 PM. The party started in less than a half hour. I was apprehensive, that I couldn’t hide.

  “Yes.” He held me close by the waist. “You convinced me that we should go. Don’t allow your paranoia to get the best of you, love. Have a little fun tonight. Let loose.”

  I chuckled. “Alright. Fine.”

  I pulled away from him and then suddenly the room went hazy. I staggered back, hitting the wall and slid down. Jensen stood across the room. He was staring at me, motionless. Before I knew it, he was holding me in his arms.

  “Avalon,” he finally spoke, his breathing heavy, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I shook my head back and forth. “Just felt a little dizzy for a second.”

  What had just happened to me? It was so weird - like something pushed itself through me. Before he could bring it up again, I kissed him until we had to leave for the party.

  We left at around 8:15 PM, partially because we didn’t want to be the first ones there; and second, we didn’t want to stop kissing.

  We drove to the party in Jensen’s car. All the while, I couldn’t help but notice all the people on the boardwalk tonight. They looked so happy.

  When we reached the beach house the music was blaring and tons of people - more than last year - seemed to have shown up. I recognized not one of them.

  “Wow,” Jensen commented. “Tory really knows how to throw a party, huh?”

  I laughed. “It’s what she’s always lived for.” Hearing the truth about my friend sounded horrible out loud.

  We stepped out of the vehicle, which was parked all the way down the driveway because the rest of it was taken up by the other hundred-plus cars. Before we were completely up, I saw three large kegs along with a table full of Jell-O shots and martinis.

  I gripped Jensen’s hand tighter as we entered the house.

  “It’s alright, Avalon,” he said, kissing the hollow behind my ear. It tickled. “Dance with me.”

  He took me into the living room where all the furniture was squished into one corner. The room - in fact, the whole house - was filled with people - inside and out.

  The stereo blasted a rap song, something I’d never heard before. Jensen moved with my body in harmonization; and just like that, it felt like the night we were at the club. We let the music take us into a whole other world. It was revitalizing. It was free. It was everything wonderful and magical. I needed to release the building stress. And this was one of the best ways I could do it.

  “Hey, guys!” Tory’s voice rang above the loud, ear-throbbing music. “Glad you could make it!” She had a martini in her hand. She sported a hot pink maxi dress with black pumps, her hair pin-straight down to her shoulders. She looked gorgeous, as always.

  Good thing I wore my lace-up combat boots. I’d hate to be dancing in heels like hers’.

  “Hey!” I yelled, and gave her a big hug, avoiding touching her martini so it wouldn’t spill.

  “I hope you guys are having a great time!” She seemed buzzed.

  “We are,” Jensen smiled. “Thanks for inviting us.”

  “Of course!” she grinned back. “Whoa, totally diggin’ the facial hair, Jensen!” She pointed at his stubble and laughed.

  “Thanks.” He smiled at her, pulling me in by the waist.

  All three members of the Drunken Trio popped up from behind her. “Hey!” they shouted in unison.

  “What’s going on?” Lucy yelled over the music, giving me the once-over. “That dress is so flattering on you, Avalon. Great choice for tonight.” Lucy was wearing a tight mini dress in mint with silver pumps, an overabundance of jewelry and a fur vest. Her hair wildly framed her face. She drank the shot that was in her hand, making a face as the alcohol went down.

  “I totally agree,” chimed in Ryan, who was wearing the same dress as Lucy, but in a pale shade of purple, minus the fur. She had a smaller build than Lucy with creamy pale skin and smoldering gray-green eyes. She was pretty but she tried way too hard. Her cropped bob swayed as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her martini nearly spilled on Tory.

  “Ditto!” sang Sam, who mimicked both girls’ outfits, except hers’ was in black. She accompanied her ensemble with a gold belt, shoes and matching earrings. Her red hair was in a high ponytail, showing off the pile of makeup gooped on her spray-tanned face. “Ah, crap! My rum and coke is all gone,” she pouted. “Mind getting me another one?” she asked Jensen, staring at him like he was Thanksgiving dinner. She bit her bottom lip seductively and twirled her hair around her finger.

  “Rum and coke isn’t my drink of choice,” he answered back calmly.

  “But it’s mine,” she whined. “Please. Pretty, pretty, pretty please.” She batted her long fake eyelashes at him.

  Yep, the Drunken Trio is, well, drunk. As usual.

  “I’m sure you can find some other guy to get you a drink,” I answered back. I wasn’t jealous but I was definitely overprotective. Did these girls have no boundaries they wouldn’t cross?

  “Ugh! Whatever, Avalon. Ryan, Lucy - we should totally go see if those guys over by the foyer want to get us some drinks.”

  The way Sam was going about this you would have thought people actually had to pay for these drinks. This girl was just too lazy to get it her damn self. Plus, she craved attention; all eyes needed to be on her, always.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ryan laughed, adjusting her boobs in her tight dress. “I call the tall one wearing the baby blue pullover.”

  “You can have him. No fashion sense whatsoever. I’ll go after the Asian to his right,” Lucy said. “He’s cute.”

  “Aw, man! Why do I always get the ugliest one?” Sam pouted.

  “Because trying to meet Mr. Right at a party rarely ever happens,” Tory chuckled, polishing off the last of her martini. “So what if he’s ugly? I say go for it. He might actually be a great guy…until the alcohol wears off.”

  “Fine. I’ll try him out for size.” These girls shopped for boys just as often as they
shopped for clothes.

  All three drunkards disappeared in a single file line, bee-lining over to Baby Blue and the Henchmen. The Asian one hid behind the dude wearing head-to-toe baby blue, the obvious leader of all three; sadly he appeared to have the most confidence. The other scrawny guy with a faux-hawk had his face buried in his phone. What a match all six of them made.

  Just then, something flew across the room in a blur - a vase? It crashed on the floor. I was startled.

  “Hey! Don’t throw things!” Tory shouted in the general area the vase had come from. “Well, I guess I better go play hostess.” She rolled her eyes at the direction of her party guests.

  “We’ll talk soon,” I said, giving her another quick hug.

  “Don’t leave for a while!” she said, heading through the sea of people.

  “How does she have enough energy to do this?” Jensen asked.

  “No idea.” Although I knew she was doing this to avoid thinking about Adam. Depression didn’t suit Tory well. Then again, it hadn’t suited me well either.

  “Want to walk around?” he suggested.

  “Sure.”

  We walked through the large house, hand in hand. I expected this night to feel awkward and heart wrenching. Instead, it was filled with hope and love. Jensen made everything appear and feel different.

  “Want something to eat? Drink?” he asked, head motioning toward a random food table filled with unhealthy snacks and alcoholic beverages of all sorts. I hadn’t had alcohol since that night but I was going to end that here and now. Tonight was going to start a new chapter in my life . . . with Jensen.

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied. We walked over, each taking a beer. Jensen looked surprised at the choice I had made but kept quiet. Together, we headed back to the dance floor. We danced, beer in hand and had a nice time. That was, until my beer had been completely consumed ten minutes later.

  “Uh, Jensen,” I said, “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Go right ahead,” he chuckled. “Want me to go with you and stand outside the door?”

  No,” I laughed. “I’ll be fine. Mingle if you like.”

  “You sure?”