I open my mouth to argue, when he interrupts.
“But when you’re with Kayla, when she’s happy and smiling at you, that fire turns. It goes from sick to full, healthy, lively. She makes you happy.”
“She’s the first friend I’ve ever really had.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“Why are you cheating on Sophia with her?”
He doesn’t flinch, but his eyes splinter with a fraction of pain.
“I’m not cheating. I visit Sophia every week – ”
“But why go out with Kayla all of a sudden? I thought…I thought you didn’t really like her? You kept saying she’s annoying. So why go out with her?”
Jack fixes his icy eyes on me, hair falling into them a little. He doesn’t answer, and pivots and strides away, the crowd parting around him. For him.
***
Isis looked up at me with those warm, burning, flame-mahogany eyes and asked me.
“So why go out with her?”
She’s oblivious. I still don’t believe it myself. But I know it’s the right thing to do.
She has no idea how much Kayla’s smile makes her smile. Unconscious, soft grins form on her face when she looks at a happy Kayla, and full-blown joy crackles across her features when she laughs with Kayla. Kayla reminds her of who she used to be, maybe – naïve and innocent.
But as Isis cocks her head and waits for my answer, she doesn’t realize in that moment she’s just as innocent as Kayla. She’s never been loved. She’s only given love. She has no idea why someone like me would go out with her friend, if only to make her friend happy, and her happy in turn. As long as Kayla can kiss my cheek and talk about Vogue and Nicki Minaj with me, Isis smiles. Real, true smiles. Smiles free of pain or jaded bitterness. Isis truly doesn’t believe anyone would like her enough to kiss her, let alone do something to make her smile. There’s no coyness in her question. She simply has no idea what it’s like to be loved.
Love? I frown and scratch the notion out with an imaginary mental pen. But as I walk away from her, the answer too hard to say, the urge to turn around and look at her just one more time before I go is overpowering.
It’s evidence.
It’s cold hard fact that mental pens don’t need to scratch anything out.
When had it happened? How stupid and predictable was it? The new girl - the manic, rambunctious, permanently-sugar high girl – barreling into town like a whirlwind and demanding I pay attention. Demanding I fight. Demanding everything but the one thing that’s begun to grow inside me.
I should burn it.
The plant is still young. It hasn’t flowered yet, its roots haven’t laced over my heart just yet. I can still stop it. It’s not too late. Sophia is still a strong flower in my chest. She’s the only one who should matter. Guilt sickens me. Sophia. I’m being unfaithful, aren’t I? Escorting wasn’t truly cheating – I loved none of the women. None at all. They were cows to be milked for money, and that was it. I love only Sophia. Sophia has always been there. Sophia is sick, and she needs me. I can’t abandon her, or leave her. I’m the only one she has. It was never a problem, since no other woman ever held my attention. But now…
Something tears at me, serrated and sharp.
It’s too late.
I’m an idiot, and it’s too late.
***
Avery invites Kayla and I to her Halloween party on Saturday. I’m a little wary, since Avery smiled too much at Kayla when she invited us, but I’ll go, if only to make sure Kayla doesn’t meet any trouble. And with all the popular girls who’ve had a crush on Jack forever being invited too, I triply have to go. I will be the silent protector
“You’re going as that?” Kayla sniffs at my tight-fitting latex Batgirl costume. I wince and adjust a brewing camel toe.
“It’s a symbol of my commitment to justice!” I crow, and whip out a fake bat-star from my utility belt. Kayla laugh-sighs and pulls my chin up. Her mermaid costume – a skirt with a tail, drags behind her, and her bra is shimmery and made of spray-painted seashells. Her dark hair is woven with smaller shells, and her make-up is green-blue and likewise sparkly.
“Okay, just hold still and let me do your make-up, at least.”
“Make me look like an actual bat.”
“Ew! No!”
“Give me a huge proboscis nose like those weird bats in Africa.”
“Ugh!”
“Smear my face in guano.”
“Okay, that’s it, you’re being nasty and it’s running your eyeliner so you need to officially stop.”
I laugh and mime zipping my mouth shut as she works, fingers delicately smearing eye shadow and lip gloss and foundation on my face.
“They don’t even put this much makeup on dead people for open casket wakes,” I complain.
“Hush. I’m almost done.”
When she’s finished I open my eyes and look at a whole new person. Smokey eyeliner and pink gloss make me look –
“Beautiful!” Kayla claps her hands.
“Not ugly,” I correct. “Your work is great, it’s just my face. Sorry you didn’t have something nicer to work with.”
“Oh, shut up!” She smacks my shoulder. “Now c’mon. We’re gonna be late.”
She grabs her purse and keys and stops in living room, tiptoeing into her father’s study. She’s only gone for a few seconds before she dashes out, a bottle of expensive-looking whiskey in hand and squealing.
“C’mon c’mon c’mon run run run!”
I shriek in the back of my throat for no reason and run after her out the door, my cape billowing in the cool October night. The sky is steely and filled to capacity with heavy rain clouds. As we pull up to Avery’s jack o’ lantern-lined driveway, a few fat drops of rain start to fall. Orange and black lights are strung everywhere inside, bowls of orange punch and pumpkin cookies and cinnamon cakes crowd the kitchen counter. Girls dressed as skin-showing cats and nurses and witches crowd the house, and guys in football-player costumes and president costumes and rapper costumes with ridiculous gold chains stride around. I high-five the guy who’s dressed up as Pac-Man, because he’s the only creative costume here. As more people arrive, the line of booze bottles on the counter grows. As the night grows darker, the jack o’ lanterns glow eerily on the porch, the wind howling through the trees outside. Guys scare girls and girls shriek, and someone starts the music when Avery finally comes down in a resplendent princess dress, complete with a tiara, perfectly-curled red hair, and a fluffy blue ball gown.
“You look amazing, Ave!” Kayla shouts. Avery gives her a shark-smile and they hug in that cheek-kiss way popular girls do. Avery’s eyes whisk over me and she laughs.
“What are you supposed to be? A drowned rat?”
“Batgirl, you heathen. Duh.”
Avery sighs. “It’s a good thing I invited you. After that fountain stunt you’re the girl to go to for hilarious entertainment at your expense. You don’t mind looking like an idiot, right? Making a fool of yourself? Good. Do that tonight. A lot.”
“You forget yourself, your highness,” I sneer. “But I don’t take orders from you. So you can shove that plastic scepter up your butt and painfully poop it out later.”
Kayla barely manages to contain her laughter until Avery storms away, and then she explodes with it.
“Did you see the look on her face?”
“It won’t last. She feeds on pain and ineptitude and from the look of this crowd-” I glance around at everyone barely getting tipsy. A guy draws a penis on a jack o’ lantern and a girl pulls down an entire string of lights by getting it caught in her angel wings. “- that will be plentiful tonight.”
I wave at Wren, who walks in dressed in green as Link, from the Zelda videogames. He’s even got a cool replica plastic sword. He walks over and shyly blushes.
“H-Hey.”
Kayla sighs. “What are you supposed to be, anyway?”
“Uh, Link?” I inform her. “From Zelda?”
“Who from what? Is that a TV show?”
I roll my eyes at Wren, but he just laughs it off.