Alix & Valerie

by Ingrid Diaz

  “That I don’t think I can stomach anymore revelations for one evening,” she said, looking down, her hands in her pockets again. “You know, whatever it was that I expected you to tell me . . . I never thought it would involve you using me for money. The thought never entered my mind.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ve been pretty naïve. I should’ve expected it. You were too good to be true.”

  “I wasn’t using you for you to ask Jessica for money,” I told her, not sure why. This admittance wouldn’t do me any good. It would only make me look like even more of a jerk but as long as I was being honest. “I wanted you to help me find a document I wanted to steal from her so I could blackmail her.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks and only then did she look at me. “What?”

  Oh boy.

  “What kind of document?” she demanded.

  I’d never seen her angry before and I decided right then and there that as beautiful as she looked with her eyes flashing in rage I never wanted to see her mad again. “Her birth certificate,” I confessed and felt myself sink further into the grave I was digging.

  She blinked then her anger dissipated into confusion. “Why would you blackmail her with her birth certificate?”

  How did I even begin to explain this? Then I paused as I notice her face change from confusion into something that resembled recognition.

  “You know?” she yelled. “How do you know?”

  My turn to be confused. “Know what?” Then I realized and I winced in surprise. “Wait, you know?”

  Alix looked distraught. “How did you find out? Nobody knows except Jessica, Mathew and me.” She stared right into my eyes and asked, “Valerie, how do you know that?”

  Sighing, I said, “I overheard my parents talking about it numerous times.”

  “Then how did your parents find out?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself to find the strength or perhaps the courage to say it. I looked right into her eyes and replied, “Because they’re her parents too.”

  It’s amazing the effect that five little words can have when put in the right order and used in the right context. For the next few seconds I watched as Alix processed the information I had just provided her. My heart stopped beating, I was sure of it, and I wasn’t entirely certain that I was breathing either.

  “I think,” Alix stammered, looking incredibly pale all of a sudden, “I think I need to lie down.”

  I caught her before she had a chance to hit the ground and I thanked whatever gods had blessed me with fast reflexes because the girl had fainted fast. “Well, damn. That’s a first.”

  By the time she came to, which was only a few seconds later, it was already pouring. She blinked through the rain, appearing confused.

  “Hey,” I said, “we have to get out of here.”

  She nodded slowly and I helped her to her feet. When I was certain she’d remain in an upright position, I grabbed her hand and led her in the direction of my apartment. It wasn’t far and I knew a shortcut. We’d just get really soaked along the way. She didn’t say anything and neither did I. Instead, I focused on avoiding most major puddles, though it didn’t seem to matter because the rain was coming down hard and my tee shirt and jeans were sticking to me like glue.

  Personally, I didn’t mind, but Alix appeared uncomfortable and I guessed she didn’t like getting wet. We passed by people under umbrellas and people under the protection of outstretched newspapers hurrying to find shelter. Cars swished by, cutting through the layers of water accumulated on the pavement.

  We reached my building a few minutes later and I opened the door, letting Alix pass through first. A gust of cold air hit my body as I stepped inside and I saw Alix shiver. I didn’t even bother glancing at the elevator as I headed for the stairs. The swooshing of our shoes as they met the carpet almost amused me. We sounded like a couple of ducks walking down the hall.

  At my door, I paused. If my apartment was indeed bugged, then Alix and I couldn’t discuss anything pertaining to any of the topics we’d touched on that night. But what was the likelihood of that? Could I risk it? Did I have a choice? I rubbed my forehead for a moment, trying to think logically. Chris knew I never had visitors. If she’d bugged anything it would’ve been my phone.

  “Why are you pausing?” Alix asked, watching me curiously.

  Glancing at her, I shrugged. “Just thinking of something,” I replied and proceeded to unlock the door. I flipped on the light, did a quick survey of the room, determining that no one had been there while I’d been gone and most importantly, that there was no one currently inside. Only then, did I allow Alix through. “I’ll get us some towels.” From the linen closet in the hallway, I grabbed a couple of towels and made my way back to the living room. Alix was staring curiously at my phone. “Something wrong?” I asked, handing her one of the towels.

  She looked at me. “Do you have another phone besides this one?”

  “The one in my room.” I was confused. “Why?”

  She appeared thoughtful for a moment, then she caught my gaze. “You don’t have caller ID.”

  “No, I don’t.” I started to ask why, when I remembered why she was asking.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes, as though attempting to halt the assault of an impending headache. When she opened her eyes she laughed slightly. “That shouldn’t really surprise me.” She studied me quietly. Then asked softly, “Did I hear you correctly, before I passed out?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re Jessica’s sister?” The words sounded awkward, and I couldn’t decide if it was because she wasn’t used to saying them or because I wasn’t used to hearing them. Perhaps both.

  Instead of responding to her question, I said, “We should get you into some dry clothes.”

  For a moment, I thought she was going to refuse. In fact, I thought she was going to throw the towel at me and storm out. She looked torn and awkward and hurt and I felt so helpless I wanted to scream.

  “Okay,” she said, to my surprise.

  In my bedroom I found a change of clothes for the both of us. I gave her a pair of black sweat pants and a green tee shirt. As for myself, I opted for black cotton boxers and a light blue tee shirt with the Whispers logo on the back. While we changed, I politely turned my back to give her privacy. I found it depressing that I felt it necessary to do so, since I’d pretty much memorized every curve of her body, but as much as I hated to admit it, everything had now changed between us.

  The room was momentarily lit by lightning, followed almost immediately after by a clap of thunder that made the lights flicker and my skin crawl. Feathers and thunderstorms. Anything else I could handle. When I turned around, Alix was dressed and seated on my bed, petting a blissful Loki. Unsure of what to do, I did nothing. Just stood there watching her silently.

  Green eyes rose to meet my gaze. “Are you going to tell her?”

  Jessica. Was it always about Jessica with her? My sudden anger unsteadied me, and I turned to stare out the window, attempting to find some mode of control. I had no right to be jealous.

  “No,” I said. “I was going to get the proof, blackmail her with it, get the money and then return the birth certificate to her.” I paused to look at the ground before continuing. I wasn’t sure what it was about the floor that provided me with comfort. “I just wanted to help my brother out of the mess. I never had any intention of hurting anyone.”

  “So, have you been spying on me?” she asked.

  Her question made me turn around to face her. “What?”

  “How did you know I called you that night at Jessica’s?”

  “My phone rang and you’re the only one who has my number.” Well, that number. I had two.

  “Then why didn’t you pick it up if you knew it was me?” she pressed.

  “Because I was having second thoughts about the whole thing,” I admitted. She seemed both surprised and confused by my answer, so I decided to continue. “I had expected you t
o be different. I knew you were friends with Jessica and I just assumed that you’d be another rich snob. I didn’t think you’d be so . . .” Unable to pick an appropriate adjective, I intended to let it just hang in the air. Of course, I should’ve known better.

  “So what?” Alix asked.

  A stream of words floated through my mind, but none served to accurately describe her. “I don’t know,” I stammered. “So you.”

  Alix was silent for a moment, then said, “So you went ahead with it anyway, ’cause of your brother?”

  I nodded.

  Another bolt of lightning crashed nearby and I jumped.

  “I’d get away from the window if I were you.”

  I started walking toward her, expecting her to stop me and tell me to sit on the floor or in the corner or something. Instead, she moved to the side to make room for me and I crawled across the bed to lean back on the wall the bed rested against. Her back was to me for a moment and then she turned around to face me.

  She stared at me quietly for a long time, studying me. I was thankful for the silence. All of the talking was making my head ache and my heart pound. I felt so drained, both physically and emotionally. “I have so many questions I don’t know where to begin,” she said finally.

  “Well, what do you most want to know?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think any of this has really hit me yet. I mean, I heard everything you said and I understand it . . . but it hasn’t hit me. I’m sort of numb inside.”

  Instead of answering, I reached over to open the drawer of my nightstand. I dug around with my hand until I found my copy of Ayn Rand’s Anthem and pulled it out. All the while, Alix watched me curiously. I flipped through the novel until I found what I was searching for. “Here,” I said, grabbing the photograph that stuck out between the pages. I glanced at it for a moment, then handed it to Alix.

  She stared down at the picture, then looked up at me. “Oh . . . wow.”

  It was a picture of me and of Aaron, taken a few years back. I’d been eighteen, he’d been fifteen. There was nothing special about the picture, really. Just the two of us standing in front of a car, looking annoyed at getting our picture taken. The only reason I kept it was because it was the last picture we’d taken together and for some reason I liked it.

  “Your hair,” Alix said, staring at the picture. “I mean I knew you weren’t a natural blonde . . .” And she blushed. She looked up. “But why?” Then she looked down at the picture and nodded. “’Cause then you’d look too much like Jessica.” She continued without waiting for me to answer. “Is this your brother? Aaron?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stared at the picture for a moment longer. “We’ll get him back,” she assured me gently. “But I won’t help you blackmail or steal from Jessica.”

  “I know.”

  She handed the picture back. “Is there anything else I should know before I call Oprah?”

  Well, there was the small Jade factor, but did I really want to go there? No. I decided it was best if Jade told her herself. “Not really. Are you okay?”

  “Not really.” She smiled weakly. “I wasn’t ready for this.”

  Would she pull back if I reached for her? Fearful of rejection, I didn’t attempt to move in her direction. “I’m sorry,” I said, like two words would do any kind of good. “I never—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” she said. She didn’t sound angry, just tired. “I understand.”

  Leaning my head against the wall, I focused on the sound of raindrops pelting my window. It sounded like a ton of little rocks getting shot at the crystal. Loki padded across the mattress and came to rest between Alix and me. She yawned and closed her eyes, resting her head on her paws. “So, what’s your secret?” I asked, letting myself fall into her eyes.

  Alix looked around thoughtfully, then returned her gaze to my own. “I’m really a man.”

  My lips twisted into a smile. “Is that so?”

  “That is so.”

  She had no idea how badly I wanted to kiss her at that moment. If she was indeed a man, she was the sexiest one I’d ever seen.

  “I should get going,” she said suddenly.

  A quick glance at the window let me know that the storm was nowhere near being over. “You can’t drive in that,” I said, turning back to her.

  She was on her feet already, searching her wet clothes for the car keys. Finding them, she rolled the clothes into a ball and started toward the door. “Why not? I’ve driven in worse.”

  “You don’t have to go,” I insisted, jumping off the bed to follow her out of the room.

  “I really think I do,” she answered, turning briefly in the hallway to give me a meaningful look. “I’ll get you back your clothes,” she added as she reached the door.

  Short of jumping on her and tying her down—as tempting as that would’ve been under different circumstances—there wasn’t much chance of my stopping her from leaving, so I let out a deep sigh, resigning myself to the inevitable. “Will you call me when you get home?” The request sounded pathetic to my own ears, I shuddered to think how it sounded to hers.

  She paused, standing with half her body out the door and the other half still inside my apartment. “Why do you want me to call you?”

  “So that I know you made it okay,” I replied, feeling incredibly foolish.

  I couldn’t read her expression, but if I had to guess I’d have to say she appeared surprised.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because you’re my girlfriend,” I responded and then proceeded to roll my eyes and wish I were alone so I could have the honor of kicking myself. What was this, middle school?

  Her expression turned dark. She slipped from my view and shut the door without responding.

  I stared stupidly at the door for a long while. Well, I’d gotten my wish.

  I was alone.

  Chapter 5

  Loneliness will drive the sanest person over the brink of madness. Take loneliness and combine it with desperation and you might as well mix Potassium and water together; the result is the same.

  The next morning, I found my pathetic self on the grounds of Baldwin University, feeling like a stalker on the loose and not particularly caring. I stood against a tree, my back glued to the trunk as I struggled to maintain a casual stance. My gaze was fixed upon Turner Hall and the window I’d calculated to be Alix’s. I wondered if she was inside. I wondered if she’d seen me. I wondered what I could possibly say to this woman once I was standing in front of her. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. If I could do it all over again . . . Such bullshit. There was nothing I could say.

  I scanned the area around Alix’s dormitory building. Fragments of conversations floated by me. What I wouldn’t give for simplicity.

  I fixed my gaze on the entrance door of Turner, half-hoping and half-fearing that the next person to exit would be her. But it never was. From my jeans pocket I withdrew a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I looked down at both objects as if they were the embodiment of something important. Without a second glance I threw them aside. The lighter hit the concrete and bounced away, ending up at some college kid’s feet. He cast a confused glance in my direction, then continued on his way. I have no idea where the cigarettes landed.

  Sighing inaudibly, I leaned my head back against the tree trunk and returned to the task of staring up at Alix’s building. The red-brick structure stared back at me, patient and mocking, as though somehow knowing that it possessed within its walls the very thing I was searching for.

  The front door opened and my heart sped up. Once again, it was a false alarm. Out of impatience, I did something I hadn’t planned on doing. “Excuse me!” I called, half-jogging to meet up with the blonde. Catching up to her, I put on my sweetest smile and said, “Do you know Alix Morris?”

  She looked me up and down for a moment as though attempting to assess any potential damage her answer could evoke. “Yeah . . .” she respon
ded after a moment, dragging it out as though unsure of her answer. “She lives across from me,” she added.

  “Do you know if she’s home?”

  Blonde curls bounced side to side as the girl shook her head. “She’s got a directing workshop right now.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know where that is . . . ?”

  The blonde proceeded to give me directions and I thanked her a few times before heading off in the direction she’d instructed. I figured a directing workshop would house a lot of students and so sneaking into the auditorium shouldn’t present much of a problem. Truthfully, I just wanted to see her. To sit in the back and scope her out among the crowd and just stare at her for however long her class lasted. This plan however, was short-lived.

  Finding the building didn’t prove difficult. I knew my way around Baldwin University pretty well and so I had a fairly good idea where Atkins Theater was located. Once I spotted the large building with its prominent columns announcing its superiority over the less intimidating structures on campus, I proceeded to cross through the doors in search of Auditorium B. This, too, was not difficult. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was what lay at the other end of the double doors of the room.

  I opened the door quietly, as to not disturb the professor, and set foot inside the room. As expected it was large and full of students whose attention was fixed solely on the figure standing atop the gray-carpeted stage. Nobody looked my way as I entered. In fact, they were all so transfixed with whatever was going on onstage that my gaze darted in that direction. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.

  “Okay, Melanie,” Alix was saying, her body half-turned to the audience. In one hand she carried a script, and with her free hand she was pointing at something on the paper. A short girl with purple-dyed hair and gothic-looking clothes looked at her intently as if Alix contained the answers to the world’s best-kept secrets. “Why don’t you try to block this scene?” At this point, she turned to the audience, and I ducked down to find the nearest seat. I was thankful for the sunglasses. “I need a couple of volunteers.”