“I’m not here to judge you, remember?” I asked.
“Sure, it’s easy to say that, but then I say something stupid like that, there’s no way you don’t judge me a little.”
“A good rule of thumb is to assume that people aren’t nearly as fussed about anything you’re doing as you think they are.”
“I keep hearing that, but that doesn’t make it easier.”
“It will. Look, without getting into detail or treading on sensitive territory, I assume you’re looking to change yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“How many years did you travel down to this point?”
“My whole life, so… nineteen?”
“Nineteen years. Okay. Why expect an overnight change, then? Isn’t that being unfair to yourself?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m… I know I’ve frustrated some people, by being slow to change. But I think it’s worse to betray myself and expect too much of myself in undoing a solid lifetime of bullshit. Excuse my French.”
“Ce n’est pas grave.”
“Ah, a French speaker.”
“It’s a bilingual country.”
“I’ll rephrase. Someone who seems remotely fluent, and who didn’t forget the little they learned in High School.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, but she smiled a little as she said it. A little praise going a long way. Praise, perhaps, that she couldn’t deny.
It didn’t hurt to try taking it a step further.
“Take this for what it’s worth, Tiffany… I think I can see why Alexis likes you. I’m starting to like you too, insofar as I’ve gotten to know you. I think you’re pretty cool.”
“Oh god. Don’t start saying stuff like that, or I’ll die right here.”
“Go easy on yourself,” I said. “I think I would continue to enjoy your company if you didn’t change from the way you are now. But if you are going to change, give those changes time, to work against nineteen years of history. Yeah?”
“I’m- I’m sort of worried I’ll get lazy and fall back on old habits if I don’t work at it.”
Which was an indirect, unintentional stab at me. Criticizing my way of handling things.
“Do what works for you,” I said. “That’s all it comes down to, once I’m done making it complicated.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
I saw another window, absent my reflection or Rose’s.
The worry was reaching a critical point.
“Listen, I’m sorry for doing this-”
“You’ve got stuff. Serious stuff, from what you were hinting at last night.”
Serious stuff. Yeah, that summed it up.
“Yeah. Is it alright if we do this again, in the future?”
“Maybe,” she hedged.
“Maybe?” I hadn’t expected that. She was interested in me. I had a hard time grasping why, beyond our common ground, but she was so nice and generally passive that I hadn’t expected anything other than a yes.
“Maybe… But I need some promises,” she said.
“I’m sort of leery of promises, at this point.”
“Okay. Well, hear me out, first. The first promise would be that you have to forgive me for mucking this up and making it into more of a therapy session for me than anything.”
“That’s not what it felt like to me,” I said. “Sorry if I made it into that for you.”
“No. I don’t know. Yes. But I didn’t mind.”
“Well, I already said I would strive to look past any of the minor snafus, or something in that vein. I have no problem with that promise.”
“Okay. The second is, well, I need you to not demote me to some label like ‘the singer’ or ‘the big sister’. Because I’m really afraid of what that label would be.”
“That’s not- I didn’t do that to demote anyone. Not intentionally.”
“That’s- I don’t think you’re the sort to do that in a mean spirited way, and it didn’t feel mean, but I don’t want to be the Weird Girl or the Shy Girl or the Girl Who Takes Way Too Long To Eat A Donut Because She’s Nervous.”
“Did you?”
“I felt like I did.”
“I didn’t notice. I hereby swear that you will not, should I be able to help it, become the Donut Girl in my estimation.”
“Oh god. Donut Girl,” she said. But she was smiling. “That statement sounded so important and meaningful when you said it like that.”
“It is,” I said. “Hey…”
I reached out, hesitated, then took her hand. I held it between both of mine. “I’m not very good at this part, but… I enjoyed this. It did a lot more for me than I can safely put into words. I’m, uh, not really the sort to make that leap to kissing a girl after a nice first date, and I’m not sure if we’ve agreed it was one, but if I were, and if we did-”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “You’re back to saying these things.”
“-I’d give you a chaste, quick kiss right now.”
She turned pink.
“Sorry,” I said. I squeezed her hand, then let it go. “Another time? Something I don’t have to cut short?”
She nodded, very quickly, unable to maintain eye contact.
We parted ways.
Immediately, I shifted mental gears.
This had been silly, mundane.
But I’d needed this, much as I’d needed the party the previous night. I’d eaten, I’d touched base with me, in a way, done as much as I could to recharge that supply of personal power.
I was getting more of a sense of what was going on with my tattoos, though. They were a barometer of sorts, a kind of representation of what was affecting me on a mystical level.
I wasn’t sure if that went anywhere, if they could keep going down that road, or if there was more to it, but there was no way that the tattoos and Pauz’s effect weren’t related on some level.
Rose had told me that I was pale, before, that I’d been diminished, when my personal power was drained, my defenses low, at the same time my tattoos were brighter and more intense. My defenses hadn’t yet recovered, so Pauz had been able to affect me all the more. Had I changed here as well? How would I change, under a demon’s influence?
I could picture my hair sticking up, like the birds were, my face settling into a natural glare…
Hm.
Hard to link that to the dialogue with Tiffany. She’d been nervous, but no more than her usual self.
I rolled up my sleeve again, checking the bird closest to my wrist.
It was hard to say. I hadn’t been paying attention to this particular bird… but maybe it seemed a bit less ‘intense’ than it had? Was that because I was bleeding off the conflict and radiation, donating it to innocent dogs and people in donut shops?
Or was it because I’d bolstered my personal power on a level?
The other possibility, I couldn’t deny, was that it boiled down to wishful thinking coupled with imagination.
I headed for the apartment. Not far from the University.
Rose would be recuperating, hopefully, while grabbing and researching the various books pertaining to diabolic bargains. My job would be figuring out how to draw up a quick, effective circle, using the tools I had at hand. I’d also need a way to protect myself.