+1+
April 2008
It’s a pink neon sign.
Just like she said it would be.
I push the door open and walk towards the bar. A petite woman with close cropped red hair and dark skin comes out from the back.
“Hey, mama. We’re not open yet.”
“I…I know. Daphne said you were hiring.”
Her steps are graceful as she moves towards me.
“Daphne? The cello girl with Chaotic Hearts?”
I nod then remember to speak, “Yes. We’re…friends…the community center. She volunt—we met there."
The woman---Charla--- looks at me skeptically. I had been trying to hold back my accent which made my words sound strange.
“You here about the bookkeeper or bar backing job?” She asks.
I almost laugh.
Strange question.
She must see the silver duct tape on my shoes, my botched haircut, red-rimmed eyes and the dirty overnight bag over my shoulder. If she gets to close she’ll smell that bottle of foul Soviet vodka I’d stolen and drowned in last night.
“Bar back. I used to work at Pink Paradise. By the ballpark.”
“Oh, yeah? How is Marlene?”
Loud. Bossy. Amazing tattoos. Gorgeous body. Bad attitude. Selfish jealous lying dirty bitch.
“…she…fired me.”
“You trouble?” Charla asks.
I steady my shaking hand and try not to look at the spirits behind the bar. Oblivion in a bottle. I’m honest.
“A little.”
She smiles. She has a beautiful fucking smile. She’s petite and gorgeous. She makes me curious. That could be a problem.
Or a distraction.
Then she says,“Well I hate Marlene so if hiring you will piss her off I’m all for it. We’ll start you off as a temp worker. You want to stay at Hey Mama. You have to earn it.”
Fuck lust.
She’s…kind.
“You don’t even know me.” I manage.
“I know Daphne. I trust her judgement. Besides, a lot of my college girls are going home for the summer. I could use the help,” she looks up at all six plus feet of me, “plus I won’t have to lug up a ladder to do restocks. Come by tonight at 5.”
“I’m—I”, I bite back whatever I am about to say and say something else. Something more pressing, “Um…can I get paid in cash?”
Charla looks me up and down. She must realize I’m not as established as I should be at twenty-one years old. I don’t have a checking account…or an address at the moment. Or a direction.
She smiles and heads back behind the sleek matte black bar. It’s a beautiful bar.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
+++
I have a job. Which means my pockets will only be empty for a few more days. I ignore the deep hunger pains in my belly and head to the park. It’s so dark out I can’t even see the stars. I go to my secret spot. It’s covered by trees and far enough off the path that cops don’t come through. It’s the perfect place to set up for the night. I settle underneath big oak and pull my knees in close.
I think about Paris Prince.
About what could have been.
-2-
Chapter 1
It started in high school.
All the small choices that would eventually bring us together.
It really started when I arrived at Helios Thantos doorstep at the end of junior year. I’d arrived in the middle of the night. All bruised and bloody after enduring the fanatical wrath of Father Ligos.
Anne had called Ligos after catching Hippolyta and I together in the basement. Hippy and I had kept our relationship a secret from Anne for almost three years. Three fucking years and it was over in a second. Hippolyta had quickly repented instead of enduring Father Ligos’ punishment. She’d never had to endure them before…but I had. Growing up I’d always earned Ligos’ wrath. I had a temper, I was dumb, defiant and mute. Those were just the obvious mistakes God had made with me. I used to think the Devil made me because I was perfectly designed to endure hell.
That night I’d fought back for the first time. Ligos had been screaming about a demon inside me. If there is evil in me I let it take over that night. I remember breaking his nose and landing blow after blow until his face was swollen and bloody. He’d managed to hit me over the head with his cane and beat me until I was down. Then he’d run into The House and bolted the door. Demon or not--I was eighteen and The Order didn’t owe me anything anymore.
I still had bloody strands of Father Ligos’ hair clenched in my fist when I arrived as Helios’ door that night. Helios slowly opened the door and studied me. Leon said Helios welcomed any child of the Order.
“What happened?” Helios asked opening the screen door.
“I fucked up a priest.”
---
Helios and his friends had only recently found asylum in the United States. Like everyone else I’d marveled at these newcomers. They were teenagers but their hardships had turned them into men. They’d grown up as child-soldiers in a cult hold-out then endured hellish international refugee camps.Helios stirred a very confusing curiosity in me. He was passionate about making a way for his crew.
I was also obsessed with his body. He and his friends broke in to the weight room after school to work out. His lean frame was perfectly defined without being to muscular. He was the first guy I was ever physical with. His body sprawled on the sheets had always made me feel like I could be normal. It took three days for me to become his girlfriend.
He always laughed at the terrible comics I drew of Anne and Ligos being tortured in hell. He said we both had dark senses of humor and understood suffering in a way others didn’t. He never told me how he got his fellow survivors here—but I knew it had been a long difficult journey. There had been an older man involved but he’d disappeared and left Helios in charge.
Helios and I were always good together until I did something stupid or inconsiderate. I kept trying to hide how slow I was from him. He would always say that I couldn’t ‘always expect him to explain things to me’. He always reminded me I was his girlfriend not a toddler.
I still loved him. I believed he was my future.
Until our last night together.
We’d been dating for almost 18 months. With graduation around the corner I started thinking about marriage and the Marines. I thought if we got married, I could go off to boot camp and have someone waiting for me when I got back. I imagined Helios in a tuxedo. I knew he would want me to wear a dress but that didn’t feel right. Maybe he’d be okay with a white pant suit?
No. I knew Helios wouldn’t like that. A few months before he’d brought me a peasant skirt and got pissed when I wouldn’t wear it. He hated that all my clothes were so big and reminded me that I had ‘nothing to cover up except my hips'. One time I made the mistake of saying:
‘I just don’t want to dressing like a girl.’
And he’d say
‘Don’t be such a fucking dyke.’
He never said it cruelly. Just in a corrective whisper. He was trying to help. I never liked the word he used but I shrugged it off as a language barrier.
Our last day together we spent entirely in bed. He’d given me his private room -- which the other guys hated. I got out of bed and started to study like Paris (who was secretly tutoring me at the time) had taught me. At the time I was developing a really bad crush on Paris Prince. He was interesting and cared about the funniest things. He was sweet and adorable. I got the feeling he might be gay and figured we could be friends once we were outside of town.
“What are you doing”, Helios said playfully tugging at my hair. He did that a lot whenever he wanted my attention or if I annoyed him.
I wanted to say 'I had my math midterm'. Instead I just said.
“…math. Homework.”
“Let me see”, He said. Instead of making it a whole thing I gave him my binder. It was full of drawings and all my failed assignments. Paris said when I study should look at what I got wrong and find the right answer without the pressure of a test environment. He said it just like that. With all those smart words.
“Holy fuck, Seraphina. Are you passing any of your classes?” Helios said.
“Gym and auto class”, I admitted. I was only passing gym because Coach taught it and had wanted me to stay on the wrestling team. I’d been kicked off them team but Coach gave me an ‘A’. Leon had been helping me in auto class.
“Seraphina I don’t know why you are bothering with any of this. The government will give you free money because of your low I.Q. You’re wasting everyone’s time—“
“…I need a diploma for the Marines…”
“You don’t have to follow Leon everywhere”, He said getting dressed.
“I want to see other places. I want do something important.”
“I’m not important? Being with me isn’t important?”
“I—“
“They aren’t going to keep a girl with the mental capacity of a 12-year-old. Those military guys will just take advantage of you just like those creepy handymen.”
I felt hot behind the eyes but swallowed it back. I wish I’d never told him about being molested. He always used it to explain away things he didn’t like about me.
“Leon said they’ll take anyone since we’re at war. Leon said they aren’t picky… especially with orphans.”
“Wake the fuck up Seraphina. You still dress like a lesbian. You aren’t even allowed to serve.”
I knew that game. He was testing me. He wanted me to say I wasn’t anymore. That he’d ‘fixed’ me. Fuck that. Fuck that. Fuck him.
“Leon said I don’t have to say anything and they can’t ask me.”
Helios laughed, “Leon. Of course. Did you get around to fucking him too?”
I grabbed my stuff and headed downstairs to study. Just as I reached for my clothes he tugged on my hair again.
“I hate that.” I said, “Don’t touch my hair.”
“Lighten up. I always do that.”
“I’m going to study in Leon’s car.”
“Come on.” He said trying to pull me back into bed. But I was done. I shoved him back, he flailed and knocked a lamp over. He landed in a pile of pillows. It was a little funny. I started to laugh but he bolted up, grabbed my clothes from the floor and threw them out the window. He did the same to the other pieces of clothes I owned.
I was standing in my (let’s face it his) bedroom in just one of the thongs I’d stolen from the Talc Shopping Center Victoria Secret’s because Helios wouldn’t shut up about how much hotter I’d be if I wore one.
Helios always drove a few of us to a few different upstate malls on the weekends. He’d stay in the parking lot and meet up with different people. We were supposed to be his back up but I never understood what for. Sometimes he’d tell me to give him some space. I’d wander the mall looking at things I couldn’t afford. I’d been drawn to the lingerie store by the models, but the colorful bundles of fabric caught my attention. Helios had given me a home, friends and purpose. I was mostly happy when I was with him and I wanted to reciprocate. So I stole one to wear for him.I did it more times than I was proud of. I almost got caught stealing once. The guard was following me and trying to be discreet. I met up with Helios at the front entrance and as soon as the guard saw Helios he just turned and walked away.
Standing there in just the thong while Helios yelled at me made me wish I’d never started stealing them to begin with.
“There. Go downstairs and study with your ass out like the fucking slut you are.”
“…let’s just go back to bed.”
“No. I can’t stand listening to that retard noise you make something is in your pussy.”
I slapped him and he immediately hit me back for maybe not the first time since we’d been together.
“What the fuck is wrong with you”, He said.
“Get my fucking clothes”, I said.
“Apologize first--”
“Get my clothes, you motherfucking asshole—“
He hit me again. I shouldn’t have called him a name. That wasn’t what you did to someone you loved. Still…something in me snapped and I went after him like I had Father Ligos. I scratched and clawed at him. He shoved his knee into my stomach and pushed me on the floor.
My protractor was on the floor. I grabbed it and threw it at him. It sliced his arm and the blood triggered him. He started kicking the shit out of me. I felt nauseous and my vision started to blur.
“I’m sorry”, I said catching his foot with both hands, “Sorry. Please stop.”
“That was so fucking disrespectful”, he said getting down on his knees, “You know I don’t let anyone talk to me like that. Apologize.”
My head was ringing and I didn’t want to fight anymore. We had sex until all the anger drained from his face. He was going to say he was sorry. He’d grown up in that awful country in those hellish camps. He only knew brutality. It wasn’t his fault. When it was over I knew it was best to let him speak first.
“Fuck. This is bad Sera. What the fuck are we doing? Shit. We’re not doing this again. Okay? I love you.”
“Helios… this is why I need to join the Marines. We keep hurting each other—“
“I couldn’t live with myself if you got sent overseas. No one should ever be a part of that. I’ll get your clothes.”
He kissed me and I felt things going back to normal. We only had a handful of bad moments. The good moments really did outweigh the bad. Me, him and Leon had been a solid trio for over a year. I didn’t want it to end but it had to.
He headed downstairs and I let out a sigh of relief.
“This already feels like war”, I said to an empty room. I grabbed all my school stuff and ran down the hall naked to Leon’s room. His roommates were thankfully out. He jolted when he saw me.
“What the hell, Sera?”
I started tearing through his roommate’s shit and put on some dirty clothes that were on the floor. There was a pulsing dull ache in my body and I could tell bruises were starting to form.
“I’m leaving. I can’t live here anymore.”
“Sera, we just got 9 more weeks of school then we can leave --
“I can’t stay in this house. I’ve got to go before he gets back. You coming?”
Leon didn’t hesitate. He started packing up what he could. When he was done Leon took my hand and we escaped down the back staircase.
“Wait”, I said stopping halfway.
“Sera”, he called as I ran back up the stairs, “We gotta go.”
I ran into the room Helios slept in. I lifted up the floorboard under Helios bed and found the cash for the business he helped with. I stole the entire stack.
We ran out the back door. When the screen door slammed shut we heard voices coming to investigate. Leon and I shot across the yard, jumped into the car and drove away.
---
School was a safe zone. Helios knew he couldn’t pull any shit there and risk losing his Asylum status. Leon was really good at finding secluded parking lots in surrounding towns where we could spend nights and weekends hiding from Helios.
The night they found us was my fault.
I’d wanted to stay in St. Lilith's for the night because the Baptist church was having an outreach event and I wanted to be early so I could find clothes in my size. I don’t know who told Helios we were sleeping in the church parking lot, but he sent his crew after us.
Eight guys jumped us while we were sleeping and dragged Leon into the woods for a brutal beating. I could hear them torturing and demanding why he betrayed and stole them. Five of them stood around the car watching me. I couldn’t take listening to the torture. I pulled the stolen money out of the secret compartment in the front seat
“Here. I stole the money. Not Leon.”
One of them grabbed the stack and started counting.
“Where’s the rest of it. Should be $500.”
I just shook my head. We’d needed gas and one (sometimes two) meals a day. We hadn’t used that much. Maybe $180.
“Suck my dick and we’ll cover the missing money.” One of them said.
I looked up and realized they were all waiting for me to answer. I couldn’t remember the name of the one who was talking.
“Mine too”, Jorgen said. The others kind of laughed and seemed uncomfortable.
“Okay”, I said. I’d had sex with Jorgen and a few of the others before. Helios had asked me to to ease tension in the house. It didn’t have to be a big deal.
I pulled out the Soviet vodka Leon kept in his backseat. I took a few sips to calm my nerves and passed it around.
“Me first. Fuck off, guys”, Jorgen said and the others hustled over to a corner of the parking lot. The he turned to me, “Go ahead.”
I kneeled on my jacket and focused on giving him what he wanted. I made it really good for him. I tried not to think about anyone seeing us or that fact that we were in a church parking lot…or that we weren’t using a condom. When we were finished he jogged back to his friends.
I took a few more swigs of the vodka. I had a feeling I was going to have do this more than a few more times tonight. I wish I’d had condoms. The other guy was next and I could tell he was going to be trouble.
“Get in the car”, he said.
“Why? Shy?” I teased just trying to get through this.
He pulled out a gun. It didn’t faze me because they always had guns out around the house.
“I’m not taking Jorgen’s sloppy seconds get in the car” he said.
“It’s fine. I swallowed and rinsed. We can drive to Poughkeepsie and get condoms—“
He shot the gun in the air and the other guys turned around to look.
“Like I fucking care if you kill me.” I said dropping the fake casual tone.
“Fine then I’ll kill Leon and make you watch.”
I got in the car because I knew the doors didn’t lock. The guy kept the gun pointed at me and put his hand inside my gym shorts. I grabbed his wrist and almost crushed it.
“We’re not doing that—“
“Come on. Half this girls in this town are locked up with those crazy nuns. Come on.”
“We can do other shit—“
“You fucking owe us for stealing that money. You barley have to do anything. What’s the big deal?”
I took another sip from the bottle.
“I’ll do anything else.” I offered.
“You’re so full of shit.” He said.
I pushed the door open and tried to climb out the other side. He dropped the gun and grabbed my ankle. I tried to kick him off but he had a firm grasp. He called his friends over and some of them shoved me back in the car. Some of more enthusiastically than others.
“Guys. Hold the fucking door shut”, he said realizing the doors didn’t lock. I heard laughing. Some guys wanted to leave while others threw their weight against the door to lock me.
I keep pushing at the door and pulling on the handle, it snapped off from the inside and cut my hand. I grabbed a rag to stop the bleeding. He took the moment to put the gun to my forehead.
“You’re not going to shoot me –“
He shot a round out of the skylight then shoved the gun into my mouth and down my throat. I started choking on it. The gun was still warm from the shot he’d fired. I relaxed and tried to breathe around the gun. I just wanted this to be over and let him do what he wanted. I didn’t really care anyway.
He let me finish the vodka because I got really emotional afterwards… and during. I remember stumbling drunk in the woods looking for Leon. I found him battered in the creek. We had enough gas to drive to the QuickMart and clean up in their dirty bathroom.
“What happened to you?” He asked dabbing water to his cuts and bruises.
“I don’t know.”
---
I tried not to panic every time I saw Helios or one of his friends in the hallway. School was still neutral ground but I still skipped when I could. One day Helios tracked me down in the parking lot while I was ditching fifth period.
“Sera…talk to me. Look, they weren’t supposed to hurt you guys”, Helios said, ”I just told them to get the money back. I owed some really important people. I didn’t tell them to beat you guys up.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t find my words.
“Come on Sera. Leon says he’s over it. He said he gets it.”
I just shook my head. I wasn’t Leon.
“Look, Sera. Titus said you got all weird after you guys got drunk and fucked around. I told him it was nothing to worry about. And it’s not, right?”
“I don’t think it was like that.” I finally said.
“Everyone said you were the one who started drinking. No one forced that bottle down your throat. You know you turn into a slut when you drink.”
“…he had a gun”
“Titus had a gun on you the whole time?”
It was all so hazy. It wasn’t violent or anything. It was just…upsetting and made me feel bad. Those weren’t good words. They made me sound like a child. So I said nothing. Helios kept talking
“When you open your legs like that… that’s what happens. What’s he supposed to think?”
I looked around afraid someone might hear.
“Seraphina”, His accent was deep and sharp all of a sudden, “Accusations like this gets guys like us sent back to those hell refugee camps. I’m not having any of my guys sent back over this bullshit.”
I tried opening my mouth but Helios cut me off.
“Seraphina…Titus is younger than you. Based on what happened you could go to jail. There is nowhere to deport you back to, so you’ll be trapped in a camp. That’s a death sentence for someone mentally disabled. Do you understand?”
I nodded because I wanted the conversation to end before a tears fell. I was also too hungry to think straight.
I got drunk and had sex.
That was the story I told myself.
That’s also what the school resource officer concluded when Leon took me to his office after I started uncontrollably crying in homeroom like a little bitch. When I was in class all I could think about was how much I wanted to die so I didn’t have to feel anything anymore.
I only made it through the last few weeks of school because I was high and drunk most of the time. Leon dragged me to prom. I think he wanted something from me I wasn’t ready to give.
I took my last final and left town with Leon. We skipped graduation and drove upstate to find harvesting work until boot camp started. I was in such a rush to get out I didn’t even realized my period was late.
-3-
After I got off medical leave I started boot camp in Parris Island, South Carolina (God, that name) a few months later than the rest of my squad. I made up for lost time though. I never felt freer than the day they shaved off every inch of my hair.
I wasn’t smarter than my fellow soldiers but I could make myself stronger than them. I read health magazines that showed me how to make my body look like theirs. We spent hours in the gym becoming a family. The rigorous training bonded us as a unit. I think I did well because I liked repetition. I liked knowing what my goal was and accomplishing it in one day.
I remember loving how when we all left base no saw me as different or thought I was a girl. I loved the military for what it did for me. I didn’t care about the war and secretly prayed every night for it to end.
Then there was Tiffany Lowe.
No matter what I did in camp I was always being compared to Tiffany Lowe, the only girl in boot camp. Tiffany and I were friendly but not close. Except at night we would spill secrets and talk about the guys at camp. She was very worldly and gave in-depth (and very accurate) instruction on how to make sex with a man feel really good.
One night just the two of us went out. She printed out directions and drove us to a bar in Beaufort with a big rainbow flag on top. I was confused and she was acting like this was normal. It was way too crowded and the vibe was all over the place. It felt like everyone was staring at us. After ten minutes I asked her if we could leave.
“That was so awkward. Why did you want to go there?” I asked getting into the 1998 Toyota her mom had given her. Then I realized maybe I wasn’t supposed to ask her that.
“I don’t know. I was trying to help.”
We just didn’t talk about it again.
I also loved having a title. Private First Class Grigori. It was on all my paperwork and every single letter I received. I couldn’t wait to move up to a title civilians respected. Captain, Sergeant…maybe Major. I imagined the way I’d correct people when they called Ms. Grigori. I’d say something like. ‘Actually, it’s Captain Grigori’.
Well, that never fucking happened
I made it out of boot camp and was sent to Jacksonville, North Carolina for occupational training in food services. It was a punishment. Tiffany and I weren’t wanted by the higher-ups. We were a country at war and the brass didn’t like a ‘PC agenda being pushed’ in wartime—so they hid us away in the lowest ranking positions and treated us like garbage. I was an ideal solider; obedient, physical fit, I could endure anything and I was damn reckless. There was one one thing wrong with me. Fuck that.
Tiffany wanted to go to med school, so when a call went out for medics she was quickly transferred. I started drinking every cent of my salary away and wasting the rest at strip clubs. I was reckless and unbecoming. But fuck was it fun. Lesbians loved a uniform and I could be discrete if I wanted to. I was a romantic and kept expecting to fall in love, but no matter who I was with I always imagined Hippolyta’s hands and lips on me. I missed her unrelenting smile, optimism and how she looked at everything with wonder.
My behavior got worse when Leon’s unit deployed for Iraq. I begged to be allowed to go. I could not lose the only person who loved me. Without him around I didn’t have any fucks left to give. I knew his chances of coming back were slim to none.
I was more disrespectful, I started fighting anyone who challenged me and I started getting blackout drunk every weekend. I was given a general discharge days a before Leon was supposed to return.
---
Directionless with $1700 in my pocket I headed back to St. Lilth’s. I tried to reconcile with Helios. That lasted about a week… most of which I spent on my back. I convinced Hippolyta to leave town with me but that ended in disaster.
With no options left I hopped on a bus to Boston on my 21st birthday.
I wanted to see him.
Paris Fucking Prince. The boy who had thoroughly confused me in high school. I just had to know if that ….feeling I’d had in high school meant anything. I’d had lots of confusing feelings in high school (fuck I still did), but the ones I had for him I felt I could do something about.
-4-
Boston was huge. I told myself I needed to get settled before I could find him. I did a few shitty things I’m not ever going to be proud of for the first few weeks. Things that lead me to the Alliance Community Center. A place I didn’t realize would be helpful to me.
I can’t exactly remember how I ended up working as a bar back at Pink Paradise. Maybe I’d seen a sign at the hostel? I made good money bar backing. The clientele was older and women slipped cash into my pocket all the time, but I was too busy having an affair with sexy 43-year-old badass take-no shit tatted boss.
Marlene knew how to run her business and was kind of shrewd about it. She also knew how to throw a good party and make people buy drinks. Whenever one of Marlene’s favorites songs came on she’d drop her boss lady façade and head to the dance floor. She would always make me join her and that’s how I realized she liked me.
I later found out she thought I was older and hadn’t expected me to be so needy. For the first six months I lived with her on and off. On good days we’d go to work, go bowling or I’d watch her get a tattoo. On bad days we fight and I’d try not to get jealous when one of her bitchy overly-made ex-girlfriends came in to 'say hi.'
Melody, the bar’s resident amateur DJ, always tried to warn me about Marlene.
“You have to be careful if you get involved with her. Remind her she has to let you take 15-minute breaks. It’s the law. ”
I set one of Melody’s speakers down while she hooked her computer up to her DJ equipment. She had thousands of CDs and always let me borrow a few for when I went running, “Is that really a law?”
“Yeah. I’m taking this eye-opening labor law class.”
“You’re…in law school?” She looked young. I’d thought she was my age.
“No, I’m pre-law at Harvard. I kind of want to be an entertainment attorney.”
“…I want to go there.”
“Cool. Do you want to transfer? What’s your-”
“I mean. I want to find someone. This guy I went to high school with.”
“Got it”, she said then lowered her voice, “Hey…don’t tell Marlene you’re bi. She’s like super weird about that—“
“He’s just a friend”, I said, “His name is Paris Prince. He would have just turned twenty. So he should be a sophomore.”
“Hmm. I’m mostly hang with other seniors…but I’ll check Facebook and ask around.”
“Is Harvard far from here?” I asked.
“Not really. It’s just a short bus ride to Cambridge. I take it every morning.”
“Thanks…he has a scar…if that helps.”
It did help.
She’d asked around and told me he lived on-campus at a place called Winthrop Hall. The day I went to…confront? Find? The day I went to find Paris didn’t go as planned. I’d gotten kicked out the hostel I was staying in and had spent a few nights on the street.
I was able to walk through the gates and found a map that showed me exactly where to go.
Then I saw him….
And it was there.
That stupid fluttery crush-feeling. That pull. That impulse to have him in my orbit. I called his name but he didn’t hear me over the crowd. I thought I should run but, that would look odd. I tried one last time.
“Paris.”
He turned and I instantly fell in love.
He looked so polished in a black collared shirt and tucked into a pair of neatly ironed chinos. He’d shed his old country accent as a kid and spoke with just a tiny hint of that posh Americanized accent like Hmjeu. His smile was easy and every word out of his mouth was kind. He was so mature and intelligent. It just didn’t feel like we started at the same place in life. He was still funny, he was still smart and he was still sweet. He showed me around his school and talked endlessly about his plans for the future. I barely knew him, but I was so proud of him. He got out and was going to be somebody.
Paris invited me up the cafeteria to eat. For some reason I felt like everyone could tell I didn’t belong. I was carrying this stupid old dance bag that outlasted my military duffel. I felt like I should be wearing black stretch pants and a sweatshirt—they didn’t even make those warm looking boots in my size.
“Tell me about what you’ve been up to”, Paris asked moving his food around.
“I went back home”, I said, “back to Helios for a little.”
“Sera.”, he said because maybe he knew more about my relationship with Helios than I thought.
I just shook my head and let him talk.
I picked up a shift at Pink Paradise later that night. It was Carnival Night but we barley had a crowd. I brought a coffee to the sleepy ‘fortune teller’ working that night. In return she spread out her tarot cards for me. I chose one to humor her. She flipped it over and studied it. I recognized the card from the deck Hippy had found at a used bookstore
The Lovers card. True love
“Lucky you. Looks like you have a soulmate”, the reader said studying the card, “Someone from your past.”
I nodded. I was sure it was Hippolyta. We’d perfectly balanced each other. I’d kept her safe and protected from Anne’s harshness. She’d showed me how to find those little spots of happiness in our regimented life. We hoarded our little moments together. We learned what it was like to fall in love together.I touched that card and something…happened. I swear I was sober but something hit me. I suddenly knew who this card represented. I just knew it wasn’t Hippolyta. I loved her but Paris Prince was my soulmate.
Paris and I became friends (just like I used to daydream about). He was learning and experiencing so many rich people things. He had all these fancy books and went to serious clubs and events I’d never heard of. There was a girl he had a crush on. She was from an Eastern European lineage, she was wealthy, smart and pretty. I remember thinking she was the kind of girlfriend he needed to stay in the fancy world he so deserved to be in.
When Paris had bad days he was quiet and his slight smile disappeared. If he was struggling in class a thin red line appeared around his eyes. He’d always been slender but now he was uncomfortably thin—I’d started realizing if we didn’t have dinner together, he wouldn’t make time to eat.
Paris Prince was weak in every sense of the word. He needed all of his strength to pull himself out of the shit show we were born into. He didn’t have the strength to carry me too. I was a lot of weight.
Our friendship had an expiration date.
What the fuck did I think was going to happen?
He’d get a big important job and still want to eat at dive bars with me. He was doing the work to make a future for himself. Did I think he was going to take me with him because we kissed once in high school. Paris wasn’t getting me out of my shit. I couldn’t get myself out of my shit. I was trying so hard to make something of myself, but it was all so fucking exhausting.
I imagined suicide would be like drinking. A warm escape I could fall into and never have to leave. Or maybe Father Ligos was right and I’d go to Hell. But truly this was Hell? I could barely fill out a job application let alone a college application. I was stupid. I was simple. I didn’t even know how to get things like an apartment or a good job.
I just wanted out of the cycle.
One night when Paris and I were at an awful diner, he went to the bathroom and left his wallet. I considered stealing one of his credit cards. Marlene had just fired me from Pink Paradise because I’d done a little property damage when I learned she’d knowingly given me Chlamydia.
I had been homeless for weeks and was so fucking tired of sleeping outside. I just wanted one night alone in a real bed. I reached for Paris’ thin wallet. It was overfilled with shiny credit cards. I tried to slip out one that was pushed into the back. Suddenly a waiter dropped a tray. I jumped and pulled my hand away. I thought about reaching again but Paris came back. If he noticed his wallet had moved he didn’t say.
“Let me cover this”, he said taking out one of the credit cards, “I got some extra scholarship money this semester.”
I nodded and said something flirty. Inside I was hollow. I almost stole from a man who had been nothing but nice to me. I wanted the absolute best for him…even if that meant letting him go. If I wasn’t careful I’d drag him down into the fucking gutter with me.
We drifted as friends.
Soon he was more like a memory.
-5-
I stayed in Boston even though I was jobless and homeless. I mostly wandered around drunk. If I smiled at people and made my voice higher when I begged for money, I could get the $20 I needed to by a liter of cheap Soviet liquor. Then I’d black out for the rest of day.
I hung around the Alliance Center when the weather was bad. Daphne, who played cello in a alt rock band, was a college student and only volunteer at the front desk who didn’t mind if I sat in the Alliance lobby all day reading from the free library.
The day I attempted suicide was kind of a blur. I was hungover and my thoughts were racing. I wanted to finally meet God and ask him why. Why did I have to be an orphan, why did I have to be in that fucking cult, Why did I have to get raped, why couldn’t I get over it, why couldn’t I have a family…
I decided I needed to get drunk before I hung myself. It was getting dark which made it harder to beg. I approached people but my words just didn’t come out.
“Looking for this”, a voice I sort of knew said.
I recognized the man form around the park and encampments. He was in his fifties. He sometimes had a cardboard sign that said he was a veteran. He told me his war stories one day but they all sounded fake. We did meth together one time but I don’t know if he remembered. He’d been homeless for a decade and made a life for himself on the street. This would be my future if I didn’t end my life.
The man held out a 40 ounce bottle of liquor. It was cold and thick with condensation. Because I was stupid I reached for it. He pulled it back. Because of course he did.
“What’s going on in there”, he said gesturing below my waist, “You gotta dick.”
I shook my head not sure if that was what he wanted to hear. He gestured me to where his makeshift tent was. I didn’t have to follow him into the alley, but I did because he had that fucking bottle and I was going to be dead soon anyway.
He gets his belt off first and helps me pull down my pants. It was so gross. We’re both grimy, the alley is filthy but his dick feels kind of good. I reach for my clit like a dirty slut but I can’t come. The whole time I think about my existence and how strange the way the body and soul are constantly fighting with each other only to be detached in the end.
He kicked me in my face when I didn’t open my mouth for him too. He didn’t expect me to push him away so hard. He hit his head against the Dumpster and I took the bottle.
The walk to the tree was oddly peaceful. I don’t really remember what happened next. I remember my throat being on fire. I remember falling. I remember laying on the grass looking at the stars and then I remember wandering into a fast-food restaurant and passing out.
I remember the cops arresting me
I had three fake ids with me. My passport and Asylee documents were somewhere but not on me. They arrested me and but weren’t keen to keep me.
“Okay, ma’am”, They said, “Pay your fine. We’ll let you go.”
“What? My…fine?”
“Public drunkenness. $200.”
“I can’t.”
“We’re transporting you to county jail then. You’ll probably serve 45 days.”
No. I could not do 45 days. I couldn’t be….alive for 45 more days.
It took forever for the next words to come.
“Can I make a call?”
Paris Prince showed up like a real prince charming. He must have been somewhere important. It looked like he’d put extra work into his appearance. He paid the fine. I felt bad I wouldn’t live long enough to pay him back.
I don’t remember how or why he took me to his dorm room. It was like an apartment. There was a small living room and a kitchen. The space was cleaner than the military kitchens I’d worked in. Paris took me into his room and stepped into the bathroom. He locked a second door on the inside and turned the shower on.
“There is a laundry room if you want to wash your clothes. It takes quarters…I usually just use the sink. Um, are you okay to be alone?”
I nodded.
The bathroom was nicer than any I’d been in these past few weeks. I tried not to look at the cheap plastic razors by the sink. It was tempting but I didn’t want to inconvenience him with whatever mess I left behind.
Instead I took a shower.
I could tell the oversized bottle of blue rain scented soap was his. I recognized the scent as the one he carried and it felt good being immersed in it. My mind wandered to him showering in here; he was probably very methodical and thoughtful about cleanliness. I was sure he was the reason this bathroom was so pristine.
I imagined He must have jerked off in this shower at least once. Maybe he leaned back against the tile, eyes closed with the water gently spraying over him. He probably came with his eyes open, droplet of water clingy to his dark eyelashes. He was always interested when I talked about sex but he never showed interest in me. He said he’d almost had sex but his nerves ruined it. He probably needed to be with someone patient. I could probably be patient.
I opened my eyes suddenly aware that the water was running ice cold. I washed my clothes in the sink and let them hang on the shower. I slipped into a pair of clean boxers and stepped back into the empty bedroom.
The bed was neatly made. It was uncomfortable and small, but I felt safe for the first time in ages. I cried into his mismatched pillow because I knew I couldn’t stay here with him. Then I fell asleep.
“Hey”, a voice had woken me up. I knew instantly it was Paris’ roommate…Wentworth.
“Hey”, Wentworth was standing in Paris’ room. He’d just walked in like he had a right. Like Helios like to do when I lived with him, ”Look, Seraphina ? I know you and Paris go way back but he’s too scared to tell you he wants you to leave him alone. I guess he’s afraid of you. I don’t think this should become a regular occurrence. ”
His eyes were focused into my bare chest. I remembered being shirtless might be a problem and pulled the comforter up.
“We’re …. Friends.”
“Really? Because you seem like trouble. Trouble I don’t want to be a part of . This is a dorm not a homeless shelter. You can’t just stay here whenever you want.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
There was no going back to sleep after that. I looked through the massive textbooks perched on Paris’ desk. He had file folders with all his papers and exams, each with high marks. He was an Honor student with academic awards. I truly wondered how his brain worked.
His room is sparse. Everything has worn edges. His tattered calendar has every minute of every day filled in. The only thing that stands out is a picture of him with Wentworth and a stunning redhead.
Paris walked me to the bus stop in the morning. He pressed a cellphone into my hands. It felt more like a lifeline. It was his way of saying he wanted me here. Or maybe that’s what I wanted to believe
I thought I should kiss him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him before he belonged to someone else. He was going to grow into himself one day and be a successful lawyer and politician. I just wanted to kiss him while he was still just a struggling college student.
But I didn’t.
That tarot card had been in my pocket and gotten destroyed when I washed my jeans. I took the crumbled paper and threw it away.
-6-
I found the will to keep living. As terrible as it is to say…I think it was because I didn’t want to go before kissing that man one more time.
The money Paris gave me kept me afloat the next day, then the next and the next. I lived one painful hour at a time. I went back church and had it out with God. I went back to the Alliance Community Center. Daphne convinced me to do more than sit in the lobby reading. At first I just went to events with free food. Then I signed up for group sessions. I don’t know why. I mostly listened. That wasn’t encouraged but sharing was too hard and confusing.
Daphne and I became better friends. She let me spend the night at her dorm once when she realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. We were both really into vampire books and she started giving me books that weren’t the escape I usually went for. She gave me zines and essay collections about gender and sexuality. It just…didn’t interest me. I just didn’t really want to label myself and I felt bad about that.
I told Daphne that once when I was having lunch with her and her friends--who also made up her band, Chaotic Hearts. The band had picked the restaurant so I had to hand over my last $10.00 for a giant piece of bread with lukewarm soup in it. I was starting to see why Paris had hated eating out with people.
“I can see that”, Daphne said, “Sometimes it’s a journey.”
I looked around and the others nodded along.
“I hate talking about this.” I said honestly, “I hate that it has to be a thing.”
“But if you hate yourself then you’ll start to normalize other people hating you.” said Clover, Who I think played piano. Daphne told me Clover wasn’t born female which I found endlessly fascinating but I felt like I couldn’t ask.
Daphne’s bandmates were very…loud. They plastered everything in rainbows and sewed patches on their clothes. People always stared. I desperately wanted to understand how that didn’t strike fear into them. They were always disappointed I just wanted to quietly live with whatever was going on with me.
I grabbed a newspaper someone had left behind and flipped to the wanted section. The section was getting smaller every day. Most places just had phone numbers and websites listed. I was supposed to take a computer class at the library but I got intimidated by all the old people.
“Hey”, Daphne said watching me circle a listing, “I know a place that is hiring.”
---
“I think you just need to move a little faster”, Charla says as she hand me my first full-time paycheck, “Make sure if you run cards that they sign before they leave. I do appreciate the help when the riff-raff come in.”
I nod. For some reason Hey Mamas attracted way more aggressive college guys and religious fanatics than Pink Paradise had. So far most of them were willing to leave than fight me.
“Big check this week.” she says signing off my on my first non-probationary pay check. I’d been employed for two months and Charla had officially brought me on for a nice $9.25 an hour, “Big plans?”
“Chaotic Hearts is playing tonight. I might stop by.”
“Oh. Daphne’s band ? Are you guys together.”
“I don’t know…” I say trying to sound ominous.
I could like Daphne. We always hung after Chaotic Hearts played at the bar. Her friends were quickly becoming my friends. We all went to a football game last week. Boston College played Harvard and the whole time I was looking for Paris in the audience.
Daphne was artsy and chill which was kind of new for me. I thought it was adorable the way she insisted on carrying that huge cello on her back even though she was 5’1. It was even more adorable when she relented and let me help.
“I gotta go.” I tell Charla and scoop up my check, “There is a room for rent I want to look at.”
“Don’t forget movie night is at my place.” Charla calls, “The not-crazy roommate picked so we’re doing a double feature of the Charlie’s Angels movies.”
The title confuses me at first because The Order roughly translates into English as The Order of The Angels.
“Maybe I’ll bring wine.” I say teasing her a little and sizing up the wine case behind her.
“Hey, I keep tabs on all my bottles.”
The warm summer sun feels amazing on my skin. I slip off my flannel. The thin black undershirt I had underneath was starting to wear and fit tighter against my body. I jog to catch the bus uptown. The room for rent was near BU. Which meant it was near Daphne. =
My skin shivers suddenly. A numb buzzing sensation stops me in my stride. I turn and after a moment realize it is the silver cell phone Paris gave me four months ago.
I look at the screen and click the buttons the way I’d seen Daphne and her friends do. The words stack on the screen. I gather it is from Paris.
Guess Where I Am
I try typing but it takes forever. Everyone else types so fast. I roll my eyes and finally get it to say:
Whre
Sacramento, CA
I close my eyes and imagine a map. How had he been so far away from me and me not feel it?
Thts far
He types back a whole sentence
Internship. There is a whole world out here. Can’t wait 2 C more of it
The world. I was supposed to see world in the Marines. I clutch my paycheck in my hand. I could barely afford a bus out of Boston. Paris Prince would see the world. I want that for him. He deserves it.
Wn U do. Wil U tel me abt it ?
Yes
I smile to myself and then realize I must look silly. But I felt that ‘yes’.
Come 2 me.
What the fuck? Was this a joke?
Now? Y ?
Want 2 C U you. R U Working ?
Brbcking ):
I shouldn’t have done the face. It was strange. Then he types back :
I miss U. Plz. Ill $. 1 day. Ill mke it wrth it
That was…romantic. Kind of?
I didn’t have to be back at work until Wednesday. It would be crazy to just hop on a plane. Right? Right ?
What was one day? I look up from the phone and realize I am stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I look at the time, turn and start running in the opposite direction. I have ten minutes to run back to the hostel, grab my shit and catch a bus to the airport.
Maybe he wasn’t the one. Maybe he was. Fuck it. I was ready to find out.
Epilogue
6 months later
October 2009
The Drop has terrible acoustics but they have the best bar. I tune out the band that plays after Chaotic Hearts and study the bartender. The way she moves between the register and patrons is like a dance. She has…style. I notice she has this subtle way of pushing the fancy signature drinks.
The thought of that many people demanding things from me made my stomach twist. Charla thought I could get more tips on the bar because of my blue eyes and androgynous features, but my attempts at bartending cost her more glasses than she could afford.
“Sera!” Daphne throws her harms around me. “Babe, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you since I got back for the semester.”
“I’m good. You guys were amazing”, I say even though I can’t tell if Chaotic Hearts is good or if I just like my friends’ music “Did you have a good summer?”
“Kind of. Internships are so hard to find. My Dad said the economy is in the toilet right now.”
I didn’t’ miss that her dad was talking to her now. Paris had been saying the same thing, not that I really understood it. He had such an old soul.Her green eyes study me over her thick black-rimmed glasses. She knows there is something I want to talk about. I didn’t usually show up uninvited to her gigs.
“What’s up?”
“Do you remember that guy I told you about? The one at Harvard?”
“Yeah”, she says confused.
“I’m staying with him now.”
“Good. I’m glad you found a stable place…hey what the fuck is with your shirt?”
I look down at the purple and black checkered button up. It was my new favorite shirt because it showed off all the upper-body progress I’d made at the building’s gym. I now realize half the buttons are large clear purple ones and half are tiny black ones. I shrug. I stopped noticing things like that on second hand clothes.
“... Anyway…we got married.”
She peers over her vodka soda.
“What? Is this like a green card thing?”
“No. But he’s a citizen so it will be easier for me.”
“That’s good. And he like gets you?”
“Um…he said he’s …pansexual?”
Daphne nods, “So everything is good?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what good relationships look like.”
“I don’t have much more experience than you. My longest relationship was freshman year. As long as he’s not hurting you I’d say stick with it if it keeps you safe and off the streets.”
“That’s kind of been my plan.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t care about him, but six months in and I worry we had done the getting married part to soon. I could tell Paris kind of resented living off campus. He had to refill out aid forms and didn’t get as much as he expected. I got tired of living like a college student and being surrounded by college students without actually being in college. Everyone I met has all these milestones and plans that I can’t relate to.
I also hated that I was in another quiet relationship. We had an unspoken agreement to let people assume we were roommates. Everyone in the building assumed I was a lesbian anyway and said weird shit to my face or behind my back. I could handle it…Paris not so much.Once, we were holding hands in the park (Far away from campus) and some random asshole made a comment to his friend. They weren’t even that aggressive but Paris never held my hand in public again.
“Are you busy tonight,” Daphne asks, “Clover is hosting an after party thing. You can invite Paris if you want.”
“He’s really busy this weekend. . .”
“Oh…okay...”
I can tell she’s skeptical.
“He is. He’s a double major. He’s also in a bunch of different clubs. Most days it’s usually just me.”
“That’s not good.” she says because she knows my shitty relationship history.
“The gym and housework keeps me busy. I still pick up shifts at Hey Mamas. We’re not monogamous so...”
I leave an open invitation
“No. That sounds like drama.”
“Trust me it’s not.”
Daphne finishes her drink.
“I have to make an appearance at the after party, are you coming?”
I give the bartender one of Paris’ newest credit cards. It was a one-time splurge. I’d work extra shifts to make up the $26.00
“Yes.”
“Perfect. You can carry Mitzy”, she says sliding her cello off her back.
I recognize a few people at Clover’s townhouse but I keep conversations short. People always wanted to talk at Clover’s parties. I prefer the parties in my building where the flowing jungle juice made it easier to relax and have a good time. I was always chasing that black out high. It felt good to just have everything turn off for a few hours.
Chaotic Hearts plays a few acoustic sets while we all sit on the floor. One guy has this really cool video phone and tapes part of the performance. I try to buy a CD but I just get handed a card with a link to down the music.
I leave around midnight. Somehow I get roped into going hiking tomorrow with Daphne and Clover. Paris is going to be out of town so it all works out. I’m only a little buzzed as I walk back to the apartment. It’s peaceful and I take my time. I don’t spend nearly enough time outside anymore. A pair of college girls in these unbelievably sexy skin-tight dresses nearly run over themselves trying to outpace me. I purposely slow down and let them cross the street.
When I finally get to the apartment Ali and Griffin from the BU soccer team are sitting out front. We’d become friends because the three of us were always in the gym from 4am to 7am. I waive but don’t stop. Griffin and I had agreed to a one night stand last week. It was fun but not mind-blowing. I’d had such a massive crush on him. He had those reserved Slavic features and easy smile. I’d even cut my hair with a swoop like his.
We were new friends and sleeping together probably wasn’t the best idea. Afterwards my crush on him kind of faded. He’d pulled me aside yesterday and told me he was straight then jogged away. Then we made out in the elevator two days ago. It was so confusing. Now I was starting to think I wanted to be him instead with him. I had to laugh that this was now my biggest problem.
I take a long hot shower when I get inside. Afterwards I stare into the foggy bathroom mirror and push back my swooped ‘Griffin’ bangs. Fuck it. I dig out my electric razor and take my time shaping it into a tight buzz cut with very little on the sides.What would Paris say? Maybe I should have consulted him. Helios had hated my jarhead cut. He said any man would.
I take my towel off and study my body. I want to add maybe a quarter of an inch more definition to my chest and shoulders. I feel the slight indentation of my abs when I touch my belly. I turn to the side. I have to be careful. I didn’t want my waist to get to small.
I make sure to clean up every strand of hair in the bathroom. I look over the bathroom one more time and have to double back when I see a smudge. It is just a tiny smudge on the mirror, but I quickly wipe it away. Paris is obsessive about everything being clean. One time he nearly killed himself taking off all the hinges and scrubbing them.
I wrap a towel back around my waist and spot check the rest of the apartment. I make sure there is enough oatmeal, soy milk and cinnamon (which I mixed with protein powder) for Paris’ breakfast when he gets back from his debate weekend. He’s lost a lot of weight recently even though I worked hard to make our $80 a month food budget stretch. His brother said his brain was broken, he had an eating disorder and it couldn’t be helped. It was not at all what I expected when I married the smart boy I had a stupid crush on.
I turn off all the lights and pad into the bedroom.
I jump when I realize I’m not alone.
I hadn’t expected Paris to be there. I hadn’t even heard him come in. He was still dressed in slacks and a newly thrifted button-up. His face is hidden behind…oh fuck...one of my books.
“I thought you were staying in Cambridge tonight.”
“I decided to come back and have dinner with you.” He says.
It is 3am. He couldn’t have been here long--which probably meant Wentworth had pissed Paris off. The team is pulling an all-nighter and someone’s dad rented a five star hotel suite for the team to study in without distractions.
“Did you eat today?” I ask casually.
“They had catering in the room. Carrie bought this amazing espresso machine with her. I had one to many red eyes. I won’t sleep for a week.”
No wonder he was up reading instead of sleeping.
“….um…you don’t have to read that”, I say trying to take the book from him.
“I need a break”, he says closing the book.
I reach for my head, “Is it my hair? It will grow back--“
“No. Sorry. I mean I needed a break from thinking about debate. I wanted to decompress. I didn’t feel like getting a DVD and you seem to really like this book so I grabbed it... Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched your stuff. Sorry.”
Paris and I were so careful around each other. We were both guarded and shaking off bad territorial habits that orphans tend to develop with each other.
“It’s fine. What’s mine is yours, right?” I say.
“Right. Same.”
I nod although there isn’t much of Paris’ that I would want. He only owned his laptop and a few school supplies. All of which he shared with me anyway.
“Umm”, Paris says not being able to stand even a second of silence, “…um…I like Edward. He’s protective and empathetic. I like that he finds comfort in knowing what other are thinking. And that by not being able to hear Bella he has to figure out love and empathy on his own…like the rest of us. He also admires his adoptive father. I get that…so….”
I don’t really understand what he just said but he sounds so vulnerable. He is making me feel fluttery inside and I want to tease him for some reason.
“You got all that from ten minutes of reading?” I ask skeptically.
“Ten minutes…plus all the times when I get bored and you’re asleep.”
“You’re so weird, Paris Prince”, I say joining in him on the bed. I kiss him good-night. It was supposed to be a quick kiss but he pulls me in. I like how he can anticipate the tilt of my head and the slip of my tongue. I hear him unzip his pants and roll my eyes. He could be such a guy sometimes. He’d been having sex for six months and thought everything was an invitation.
His cold hands slide under the covers and loosen my towel. He presses his palms into my hips. I don’t really feel like having sex but maybe if I tire him out,he’ll get some actual sleep. I reach my hand under the covers and work my throbbing clit. His hand drags across my lower belly, my muscles are tense and my barley there abs stand out a little.
“Fuck”, he says tracing the lines but not going lower. Paris isn’t the first guy to wait and ask before touching me—but he always did it in a subtle non-verbal way that I really liked.
Paris is awful at sex. Which is fine because I like everything that happens before and after we have sex. The light touches, making out and the way he always asks me ‘how I am’ and if I am ‘okay’.
I let him touch me this time. I guide one of his fingers inside. I press lightly against my swollen clit…then pull away. If I have an orgasm with his fingers inside me then he’ll know I’ve never had one with him before… or maybe he won’t. He is kind of oblivious about that. Paris kisses me again but stops halfway to yawn.
“I bet you need to sleep.” I tease him, “Aren’t you tired.”
“I’m good. Are you?” He asks taking off his pants and boxers. He is sort of hard already and leaking. God, Wentworth must have taken his shirt off at debate club practice or something. Paris’ attraction to that douche bag is so embarrassing. Daphne says crushing on straight guys is a ‘right-of-passage’ so I guess I can’t give him a hard time. Paris is so small and sensitive--all I had to do was blow in his general direction and he’d embarrass himself.
Find his limit.
Push him.
A voice inside me says. I had to know how far I could push him until he snapped on me.
“I’m really tired” I say moving away, “Can we go to sleep?”
I feel his fingers drawing circles on my back. I never say no when he wanted to have sex but I need to be a bitch on purpose to see what his limit for my bullshit is. He probably won’t get physical but I’m sure he will come up with some biting words. I instinctively pull the covers up as if that will protect me.
“Are you okay?” He asks tracing a figure on my shoulder.
“Yes.” I say turning into the pillow, “I just don’t want to.”
He is quiet. Which is rare. He only gets this quiet when he’s upset. I can imagine him staring at me and wondering what games I am playing. I shouldn’t have done this. If I keep pulling shit like this I’d make him cruel. Like I did with Helios.
Who was I to say no? I’d done what I wanted all day. I could give him a few minutes of my evening.
“Paris you can—“
I’m cut off by his abrupt snore.
I turn around. He’s asleep. Sprawled next to me still wearing his oxford. His head is propped on the makeshift pillow I’d made from an old t-shirt and clothes I’d ruined in the wash machine.
I start to unbutton his shirt, but my hand skims over buttons that aren’t there. Two buttons from the bottom of his shirt are gone. One from each double button cuff is also missing. Four buttons. I grip my chest feeling the phantom mismatch buttons on my flannel from earlier. Now I know where they’d come from
“What did you do?” I ask shaking him.
“Fuck…I thought we were sleeping.”
I shake him again.
“Did you take the buttons off our shirt and sew them on mine. You are so weird, Paris.”
“I know how much you like that shirt.” he says half-asleep. He lazily pulled the other button off of shirt, “Here is an extra one …just in case.”
I take it and put it in my nightstand
My mind is racing to figure out what I can do in return. How the fuck am I supposed to earn this? I already cleaned, cooked, paid the bills, scheduled his classes and helped him study. What else? What else?
“Paris I—“
He starts snoring.
“I’m in love with you.”
I don’t think he feels the same way. That’s fine. He is everything I needed right now wrapped in an unconventional package. He was proof that the world wasn’t total shit. I really fucking need that.
I don’t think I’ll always be madly in love with him. I don’t think we’ll even get along most of the time. But I am certain I am never going to let him go.
Author's Note
I have no idea what spawned me to write this. I wrote the first section and it sat for a while before it came together. I wanted to end this with Paris walking Sera home from a late shift at the bar-- but I also wanted something to touch on Sera’s POV on their physical relationship before kink.
I mentioned in the comments that Arrow does exist in this universe. He exist in the sense that Sera had an unwanted pregnancy and chose to have it so she could give it up for adoption. That’s pretty much as far as it goes in this ‘verse.
Also this from Cold
I dig around in the bag and find a tea box. Nestled inside are a few buttons from one of my old shirts, matches from a Mexican restaurant and finally a newspaper clipping.
She kept the buttons. The matches are from the Mexican restaurant in chapter of Cold where they get into the fight with the frat guys.
WAY BACK in chapter 5 Sera call’s Carrie charity, which helps underprivileged girls travel, stupid mostly because Sera who has experienced poverty, homelessness and abuse doesn’t see how that would have helped her.