by Lila Felix
“Thank you.” She whispered against my shoulder. I could feel her warm breath through the cloth of my shirt.
“I’m here for you, anytime. You don’t have to thank me. Can I clean you up? Your lip looks pretty bad—when you’re ready.”
She nodded and after a few more seconds backed up to a sitting position again, touching her own lip and winced.
She was true to her word, as I knew she would be. I cleaned her lip as best I could and while I did she stared at me, apparently I was alien to her. After I was satisfied, I got up and made her two ice packs, one for her mouth and one for her eye.
“Tylenol?” she asked me in a whimper. I knew it took a lot for her to ask for anything, so how could I deny her?
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”
After some Tylenol, she began to get sleepy but she fought it tooth and nail.
“I can’t go to school. And I can’t—I can’t go home yet. I’m not sure if they know where I live. I don’t want to bother you anymore. You must be exhausted.” She got up from the chair but I wasn’t going to let her go just yet.
She didn’t know if they knew where she lived? Ok, mom and probably boyfriend were ruled out.
“No, stay here. I’m just going to sleep a little and you probably could use the sleep yourself.” A look that resembled fear beamed in her eyes, “Come on, give me more credit than that. There’s an extra room with a single bed. You can sleep there, the door locks from the inside. I swear I’d never hurt you.” I looked down to find that somewhere in our conversation, I’d taken her hand and was surprise she hadn’t jerked it away.
Darting her eyes around my small home, she nodded, “I do need some sleep. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
I relaxed, knowing she would be safe for a while at my home. Leaning over and giving her a quick kiss on her forehead I gave her my most convincing tone, “I will never mind, Havok. You can come here anytime. I’ll even give you a key.”
“It’s too much. You don’t even know me.”
I blew out a breath of aggravation, “That’s the choice you keep making for me. If I had my way, there wouldn’t be much about you I didn’t know by now.”
I left her to her devices, going to shower before bed. When I came out, clean and exhausted, the door to my spare room was closed and as I pressed my ear to the door, I could hear her faint snore through the walls. Now I hoped she would learn to talk to me.
My alarm went off at six. I slapped it, making it shut up. Sitting up, I looked towards the guest room and though the door was still shut, I didn’t know if she was still here or gone. Padding through the kitchen, I breathed a sigh of relief, her belongings were still on the table. She would probably be starving after sleeping for so long, so I got on my phone and ordered Chinese to be delivered, still scared she would leave if I did. I changed into jeans and an Alpha Rev t-shirt, brushed my teeth and turned on the news while I waited. A few minutes and no good news later, the doorbell rang and I rushed to answer it before they knocked and woke her up.
I thought I’d done so well, sneaking back into the kitchen but those damned paper bags ruined my game, crackling and making a ruckus.
“What time is it?” Her voice was welcomed in my space.
“A little after six, almost seven. I’m glad you slept.”
“I feel a lot better. Thank you. I’m gonna get going now. I know you have things to do.”
I reached for her wrist, “Actually I don’t. I ordered dinner and I’m calling in sick to work. Can—can you stay?”
Trying to spend time with this girl was like trapping a scared rabbit and I was constantly retying my snare.
I’d never called into work, never missed a day—not even once. I dared them to say a damned word to me about it.
She did that nervous thing again, where she looked at anything but me, but then my patience was rewarded by a smile, a half smile cut short by her wounds, but a smile nonetheless.
“Promise to kick me out if I bother you?”
I agreed with a roll of my eyes, “Duh.”
“Why did you call in sick?”
“Because I didn’t want to go to work and I’ve never called in sick—never. And I wanted to make sure you were ok. You might’ve had a concussion. I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“I haven’t had Chinese in a long time,” she confessed and opened a carton of noodles, a little more comfortable every minute. After eating, she showered and changed into borrowed sweat pants and a black shirt of mine. She could want to be friends all she wanted, but her in my clothes singed the edges of the rope of friendship I’d cut the first time I saw her. On my end, friendship was a means to an end.
And that night I fell for her a little bit more.
We stayed up most of the night just talking. Well, mostly I talked and she picked through my iPod. And every once in a while I’d attempt to convince her to call the police and report whoever beat on her face. She refused every time, which made me more and more suspect about her mother or someone she knew. When she found a band she’d never heard of, she’d pop one earbud in her ear and listen until satisfied and then move on. She fawned over all my headphones. Like my Vans, I probably had fifty or more pair. I had to remind her time after time to replace the ice on her eye and her lip. I made a mental list of things to give her before she left, headphones, and again, that cursed email.
She yawned, one after the other. It was three a.m., now wonder she was tired.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?”
“No, I can’t like this. But even if I miss all my finals, I’ll still have good grades. Plus, those nosey guidance counselors ask questions when you show up looking like somebody tried to paint a galaxy on your face.”
She knew what I would ask next.
“And what about nosey friends,” I asked but seeing her reaction, immediately retracted it, “I’m sorry. Tell me when you want to. Do you want to go to bed?”
She shook her head, “Can I just sleep here?”
“On the couch? No, but you can have my bed if that one’s not comfortable.”
“It is, it’s just lonely. It’s funny, I’ve never been afraid to be alone. But I like being here with you. I didn’t know how much I missed not being by myself.”
I couldn’t imagine how anyone could neglect her, especially like this, the Havok that had no defenses, no walls to scale.
I got up and grabbed a blanket and a pillow from my bed, knowing full well she wouldn’t even consider sleeping with me in my bed. But I had other ideas.
Sitting at the far corner of the couch, I put the pillow on my lap and offered her a place to sleep, with me but not smothered by me—leaving her in her comfort zone.
“You can’t sleep like that,” she argued, her arms over her chest.
“I’m not tired. I’m gonna listen to music while you sleep. I just—I just feel like I need to stand watch over you. Just oblige me this once. Are you ok with that?”
“If you are.”
“I am.”
“Ok.”
She scooted over and took her time laying down. I helped her finagle the blanket until it covered everything and then she shocked the hell out of me. She nuzzled into my stomach, and with eyes closed reached for my arm and draped it over her torso. I was still reveling in the surprise when I heard the first deep breath of sleep come from her troubled chest. In her sleep, I saw the constant worry fade, she no longer tensed as I stole touches to her arm, her shoulder, brushed her hair away from her face. Without whatever plagued her life, in my hold was the true Havok. Still just as strong, just as brave, but carefree. I’d do whatever I could to make sure she had that plague removed from her life—if she’d let me.
But somehow I knew it wouldn’t last long—no good things ever do. Especially with Havok—she was so touch and go.
The next morning, I woke up, stretched out on the couch, her blanket over me, her pillow under me. For someone who worked nights, I seriously sucked at staying awake. A
hint of dread thumped my chest. Throwing off the blanket, I searched my apartment in a frantic panic—but the only thing left of her was a note, perfectly penned on the back of my cable bill.
Cal,
Thank you for everything. I had to go make sure everything was ok at home. Maybe I will catch you tonight by the bakery—if I still have a job. I didn’t want to wake you, but here’s my e-mail.
Havok
Underneath her name, an email was scripted. Who was she going home to check on? Certainly not the person who’d done that to her face. But what did I know? Nothing—that’s what. She was a mystery, yet I knew a part of her so well—maybe the part she never shows anyone else. Maybe she’s only showing me the best part. Maybe she doesn’t think I can handle the rest. Can I handle the rest?
‘I could do the sneaky thing,’ I said to the empty space around me. And I could. Those background checks were ten bucks and a click away. But all I knew was her name. I didn’t even know where she lived or her birthdate. Plus, it was backhanded of me to even think of doing that to her. She’d let me know when she wanted me to know—and apparently, not a second before.
Then again, I wasn’t any better. I hadn’t told her everything about myself either. I was purposefully hiding Fade under my jacket. And it was no small thing. Fade was a big part of my life. Fade and the people I hoped I helped were the reason I quit school and took constant berating from my stepfather. It felt like lying to her. Leaving out information felt like lying. But I didn’t know if I could stand it if she looked at me any differently after finding out. God forbid she was actually a fan.
I decided to call Jett, determined not to be one of those people who sat around for something to happen—or for her to call or come by. He answered and we decided to meet up, play some pool and grab some lunch. I told him everything about Jocelyn. He said he knew a girl like that—life completely messed up. But how was I supposed to help someone I’d never met? The only thing I could continue to do was talk to her when she called and wait for her in between. And Havok—much like she’d hidden me in the alleyway, I wanted to hide her from Jett. He always goaded me for building relationships with girls who needed something. And while I knew that Havok neither needed nor wanted something from me, he would assume her antics were those of a desperate woman. What he didn’t know—her strength and bravery would save her in the end—I just wanted to hold her hand while it happened.
He also gave me the latest Beth gossip, which I didn’t really want to hear. She told Jett she’d gotten a new job and for some reason she thought I’d get a kick out of it. He didn’t even bother to ask what her new job was—neither of us cared. But she did mention her job was working nights so we could spend more time together. She just didn’t get it. She was nuts.
“You can’t block her number or something?”
He punched my shoulder, “I’ve blocked every single number she’s called from. She’s making the rounds through every phone in town. Do me a favor next time and hook up with someone not whacked out.”
“Shut up.”
After a day of chaos with my best friend, I tried desperately to nap before work but I was now jolted by three women. I finally fell asleep, feeling helpless in all three situations.
I left the house a full hour early, determined to see Havok again. Thrown into my bag were two pairs of headphones I’d seen her admire and my iPod loaded with all the music I owned. I didn’t know if she’d be offended or not. I was rewarded when she showed up a little before nine, but this time she was out of her baggy pants and they’d been replaced by shorts, very short cut offs with some kind of lace tights underneath with her boots completing the outfit. And she was wearing my black shirt. The same one she’d worn at my house—my shirt.
“You’re early,” she said as she unlocked the newspaper dispenser.
“Yeah, I don’t know why. Just felt like it. You look different.” She looked a little better, her bruises had transformed from purple and blue to lighter shades and her lip was back in all its normal shaped glory. There was still a cut on the corner of her mouth but the swelling had gone down.
“Yeah, I hung out at Ali’s. She stole my pants and made me wear this. Her mom made me rest and ice my face all afternoon. And she gave me some kind of anti-inflammatory or something. It made me sleep all afternoon.”
“Remind me to thank Ali if I ever meet her. You look great.” A Havok blush broke out directly beneath her eyes, atop the apples of her cheeks, “Thanks. I feel silly.”
“Trust me, you look far from silly.”
“Hav, we’ve only got two more stops on the route. I can handle them if this young man promises to walk you home,” her newspaper partner said to her as he hefted the last of the papers into the machine.
I opened my mouth to give an eager yes, but she interjected.
“It’s fine. I already missed the other night.”
“Well, I don’t like you and I really don’t like you in my van. So stay.” The man was obviously joking. And though she smiled a little, I could tell it wasn’t what she wanted to do. Again, I tried very hard not to take everything she did personally.
“Ugh, I’m so glad. If you burped one more time, I was gonna hurl,” she joked in retaliation as she opened the passenger door and grabbed her military style backpack.
“Yeah, yeah, take care kid.”
“Goodnight.”
He drove off and I was glad I’d left early. “I’ve got about forty minutes until I have to be at work. I know you’re hungry.”
“Yeah, I could go for a big bag of beef jerky.”
I stopped and glared at her, “What?”
She broke out into a guttural laugh, but I found nothing funny.
“I’m just kidding. You should’ve seen your face. By the way, and this probably should’ve come before the joke, but you totally dream talked about someone offending you with their beef jerky breath. Seth or something.”
“Yeah, Seth or something.”
“I waited to joke about it. You must really hate that stuff. You turned white as a ghost.”
“Nah, I was just thinking about those shorts.”
“Ugh,” she groaned out loud, “I’m gonna kill Ali.”
She pointed at a taco truck with the words Tito’s Tacos plastered against the side, “Tacos.”
“At that place?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that place?”
“Nothing, if you like substandard health practices and E-coli.”
“Wow, Cal the snob. Who would’ve thought?”
“I’m not a snob. I’m cautious.”
“Come on, I know the guy. My mom used to work at his restaurant.”
She grabbed my hand and tugged me along until we got in line with the rest of the patrons. Some ordered in perfect Spanish, others used their cleavered tongues and butchered the language. Havok ordered four tacos and Cokes. Soon we were sitting on the curb of a place most people wouldn’t come to during the night and would run through even during the day, eating, our knees touching, her laughing at my lack of finesse while eating the messy street food.
“You look like Pac-Man. You just chomp and chomp and finally once in a while you actually get food in your mouth.”
“Shut up. You purr in your sleep.”
She started coughing and I patted her on the back. She finally swallowed and after a few drinks of Coke she could respond, “I do not purr. Don’t ever say that again.”
“Yes you do. Like a cat. It’s really cute. No one’s ever told you that? I even scratched the back of your neck and you meowed.”
She shook her head negatively, “You’re so full of shit.”
“Well, you do—purr that is. I made up the rest. I even checked the TV to see if there was a lion show on National Geographic or something.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
I reached out and put a strand of hair behind her ear, “Don’t be, it was really cute.”
I glanced at my watch and cursed it for only givi
ng me a few more minutes with her.
“I have to get to work. Where do you live?”
“You don’t have to walk me home, Cal. I’m not eight.”
“I promised.”
Her face fell, “Look, I just don’t want you to see where I live.”
“I won’t like come to your house or anything. You don’t have to worry about it. I’m not that stalkery.”
She put her hand on my knee, initiating touch for the third time. Maybe one day I’d stop counting. “Stop taking everything to heart. I just—I don’t live in a place like yours. It’s run down and rent-controlled. And our neighbors aren’t the most upstanding of citizens, ok?”
But how could I not take things to heart when it came to Havok?
“I don’t care if you live in a cardboard box, Havok. You hardly tell me anything. At least let me walk you home. It’s only fair.”
“Ok, ok, ok.” She got up, grabbed her bag and gracefully wiped her backside, making sure there was no dirt.
We walked three or four blocks and she was right. It seemed incredulous that only a few blocks away from what I would call a decent part of the city was a movie worthy hood. In the shadows, groups of wanna be thugs wearing pants that dragged the ground made seedy deals. Women and men screamed at each other in doorways of ragged shotgun apartments. Every building was the same broken down, crumbling, cookie-cutter version of the next and the previous.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she laughed at me.
“I’m not shocked. It’s strange how a city can change from one block to the next.”