HIM (4 page)

She explained to me how they knew each other and hung out but never had an attraction towards one another.  In my opinion that seemed hard to believe considering he was gorgeous.  I discovered he was twenty-three and that his last name was Marx.  His family was originally from somewhere in Europe.  Both parents died of a virus unknown to Tory.  He was an only child and grew up in multiple foster homes.  His maternal parents had left a ton of money for him in their wills so he was well off.  He didn’t attend university but he had previously been employed at a couple places one would turn their nose down to.  He was currently working at Old Tily’s Convenience Store about five minutes into town.  If Jensen had so much money I wondered why he worked there of all places.

“So what are you implying?” I asked after she was done.  “That I should see him again?”

“I honestly feel that he’d be good for you, Ava.  I mean you said it yourself – he sparked something in you –
anger
.  Something you hadn’t felt in like forever.”  I hadn’t opened up much to Tory about my situation.  But I was able to tell her the basic things about my psyche.

“I guess.”  I couldn’t get involved with anyone right now.  Especially not Jensen Marx, could I?

“Jensen’s a trustworthy guy.  You shouldn’t have a problem with him,” she stated, putting the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of us.  “And from what you’ve told me he seems to be interested in you,” she added, gleaming now.  “When he walked in here yesterday the first thing he did was look at the picture of you in the foyer.  You know, your graduation photo from senior year?  Well he liked it.
A
lot
.”  She giggled.

After what happened with her own relationship it was nice to see her preoccupied by playing matchmaker with me.  I’d let her have her fun . . . for now.

              “I don’t know, Tory,” I sighed.  “I haven’t been on a date since –”

“That idiot hurt you, I know.”  She sounded almost annoyed as she cut me off.  “Come on, Ava.  Give him a chance!”  She took both of my hands in hers.  “Avalon, you’re my best friend,” she spoke, looking into my eyes.  “This year has been rough on me, your mom – especially you, I know.  But you have to realize that life moves on.  And it
does
get better.”  She sounded like one of those motivational speakers at an OA meeting preaching to men and women alike that outside of fattening foods there was a world full of fresh fruits and veggies waiting to be consumed in moderation.  I let her continue with her pep talk.

“What that
jerk
did to you last summer…well that was just wrong.  And stupid.  And selfish.  And vile.  And repulsive.  But Avalon he’s not around anymore.  And he won’t be ever again.  I can promise you that.”

My body made an involuntary move when she said
promise
.  “But you don’t know that for sure.”  I shivered.

“No, I don’t.  Not for sure.  But if he ever sets foot on my property again I’ll have him arrested for trespassing . . . and for what he put you through.”

Tory was tiny but tough.  She almost always got what she wanted, and that freaked me out a bit.  That meant she could have my rapist arrested.  Why I saw that as such a bad thing was honestly beyond me.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”  I was embarrassed, ashamed and ultimately scared of what might happen.

“I know,” she sighed, eyes defeated.  “But if he shows up again, Avalon I’ll have no choice.”

I hadn’t realized how much of a burden it was to have this on her shoulders – and to not be able to tell anyone about it – without feeling guilty for sharing the horrific details.  What happened shocked her just as much as it did me.  Up until that night Tory and
he
got along just fine.  Better than fine even.  She really liked him and thought he and I would last forever.  I remembered us talking about him and Adam for nights on end, gushing about how much we loved our boyfriends.

It’s ten months later and look where we are now.

With that she helped to put things into perspective: Live my life the best way I possibly could – healthy and with an open mind.  With an open mind anything was possible.  And by
anything
she meant Jensen Marx.

I hadn’t visited the busy city of Empire at all since I’d been here.

Today I was determined to get out of the house and see Jensen.  I didn’t know why I was so eager to see him again but since the day we’d met – last week, today – I couldn’t get him off my mind – like something was drawing me towards him and my mind and body couldn’t take the strenuous waiting any longer.  I was wearing a knee-length nude sundress and rosy pink sweater with nude lace-up Army boots to match.  The loose curls of my hair bounced as I walked.  I’d forgotten how it felt to feel good about myself.  The very least content.

              I saw Old Tily’s Convenience Store.  I inched my way closer and spotted Jensen stacking the shelves with cans.  He looked incredibly attractive, even with his purple work vest and faded jeans.  My stomach was in knots.  I was getting closer, slowly – like a shark sneaking up on its prey.  That’s when he saw me.  And to my surprise looked . . .
happy
.

              “Hello, Miss Montage,” he grinned.  “You’re wearing something other than your nightwear, I see.”

“Ha, yeah,” my voice shook.  “I’m in public.”

He smirked.  “What brings you to Old Tily’s?”

              “Oh, you know,” I said, glancing at the shelf he was stocking, “lima beans.”

              “Well we have a fine selection.”

              “I know you do.  And I already know which can I want.”  I used to be the queen of flirting back before I dated that
monster
.  I felt the slight adrenaline rush flow through my veins with urgency.  It was greatly unexpected and I liked it.

              “Take your pick,” he said, showing me the different varieties.  “But they’re all the same,” he laughed.

              “No,” I responded, getting closer to him. “Not all of them.  One can stands out from the rest.”

Am I suicidal?  Do I want this flirtatious-act to turn sour on me?

              “You mean the expired can all the way in the back?”

              “Um, no.”

Does Jensen realize what I’m getting at?  Or do I sound ridiculous?

              “Well in that case I’ll let you choose since you seem to know more about canned lima beans than I do.”  He was about a half a foot away from me when I picked up a can.

              “Alright,” I said coolly, “I have what I want.”  My heart squeezed against my ribcage, tightening ever so slowly.

Jensen chuckled and moved closer.  I could feel his warm breath on my cheek, so inviting and smelling exceptionally good.  The aroma satisfied my head.  “Avalon you know those are string beans, right?”

              “Uh,” I looked at the can of beans in my possession.  “Yeah, just what I wanted,” I smiled.  I couldn’t believe I had gotten this far in the conversation.  I was making a complete fool of myself.

He laughed.  “Avalon, you are certainly something else.”

Considering I don’t even like beans,
period
, I guess he could say that.

              “So,” he said, eyes piercing through me like blue daggers, “what
really
brings you here?”

              “You,” I said, clearing my throat.

              “Oh.”  He genuinely looked surprised.  “What can I do for you?”

It took all my courage and inner strength to tell him what I wanted to say:  “Take me out.  Tonight.”  My breath caught in my throat as I waited for his reaction or response.  “I want to talk to you.”

              “A woman in charge,” he mused, “I like that.”  He then winked at me.

              “What else do you like?” I urged.  We were so close now.

I couldn’t believe how comfortable I was around him. And so quickly, too.  In a way this scared me.  Before him I hadn’t talked to a man in way too long.  I deeply hated feeling so
uncomfortably comfortable
around him.  It was unexpected and a little drastic compared to my previous state of mind.  But I wasn’t going to waste this.  He was just what I wanted.  I needed to know more about this guy – this immaculate gift from G-d.

              “Midnight strolls on the beach, fine dining, dancing, a beautiful woman on my arm,” he paused, “who I can keep.”  I don’t believe he meant to be so charming.  It just came natural to him.

Whoa, what am I doing here?

What happened to the shy, timid, reserved girl I was all year?  What did Jensen have that other people, specifically
men
, lacked?

“I get off work now actually.”  He took off his vest and said
goodbye
to his colleagues.

Until then I hadn’t noticed anyone else was in the store: a mother pushing her child in a carriage who was gawking at Jensen’s hard-to-ignore presence, two employees stacking shelves and three male teens throwing candy at one another.  Jensen had been my main focus the whole time.  I neglected to see what was going on around me.  Very strange.

“Where to?” he asked before I could get a word in.

“Oh,” I gasped.  “I wasn’t expecting us to do anything until later.  I’m not dressed for anything too fancy.” 

“You look absolutely stunning.”  Jensen smiled and we began walking together, side by side.  His shoulders were broad, strong.  He wasn’t too much taller than me but simply being next to him made me feel safe and protected.  Again, very strange.

We continued walking a few blocks down from the store and entered a quaint restaurant.  Jensen asked for a table outside because the weather was nice.  Once we were seated I could smell the aroma of the lake and the appetizing Asian cuisine being served around us.  Across the way the sun was setting, gleaming off of the clear ocean water.

A waitress came by to give us our menus.  She was gawking at the sight of Jensen.  He didn’t seem to notice, naturally.  His eyes – such a remarkable shade of blue – were gazing into mine.  He sent shivers throughout my entire body.

“Hi, my name is Rosemary.  I’ll be your server this evening.”  She seemed too bubbly, flipping her hair so the scent of her floral perfume wafted in the air.  “Our special today is the Peeking Duck with Chinese Vegetables,” she paused to get closer to Jensen.  “It’s
very
delicious.”  I truthfully couldn’t believe her behavior so I cleared my throat loudly.  She backed away from Jensen a bit and continued with her routine speech, “Would you like to start off with drinks?”  Her focus was still only on Jensen’s difficult-to-neglect presence, ignoring me all together.

She was a curvy woman with luscious long black hair and a fair complexion.  She wore red lipstick, allowing her white teeth to appear even whiter.  Long red nails with sparkly decals tapped on her apron, which brought my attention to her outfit: the completely black ensemble accentuating every part of her voluptuous body.  She was stunningly beautiful and I felt intimidated by her presence.  And yet Jensen was still looking at me.  Why?  I hadn’t a clue.

“I’ll have a water with lemon.  Extra ice,” he said.  “And she’ll have –”

“Sweetened iced tea, please,” I finished.  Before now I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten out.

“Will that be all?” she asked, bending over in front of Jensen so he would notice her, um,
attributes
.

              “Yes,” he stated with a smile.  “And miss?” he spoke in a nice tone, giving her eye contact for the first time since she’d presented herself at our elegant table for two.

“Yes?” she asked, with hopeful eyes, like maybe he’d ask her out on a date or something.  A hint of jealously formed itself in my head.  I knew that wouldn’t happen.  I mean, what kind of person would do that right in front of their date?  I shrugged slightly realizing with my luck that could have been a possibility.

“Unless you’d like me to report you to your supervisor I’d advise you to please pick up your blouse.”

I couldn’t believe it.  My mouth dropped open and I went wide-eyed. I wasn’t expecting that one.  And neither was she.  She grunted and groaned up the stairs and into the bistro.

              “Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed, hand over mouth – failing an attempt to stifle my laughter – practically falling out of my chair.  “That was just…
brilliant
.  Bravo,” I commended him, clapping my hands together for effect.  Jensen laughed and took a tiny bow in his seat.

              Never in my life had I met someone as unique
or
as gutsy as Jensen.

              “That was for you,
mademoiselle
,” he said in a highly authentic French accent, his eyes glimmering against the setting sun.

              “
Merci
,” I responded, my French impression sounding like garbage next to his.  Heat rushed up my cheeks and stayed there.

Just then I had realized something – I was out in public, dining with a man – surrounded by men of all ages.  And yet I was completely at peace.  I didn’t see
him
anywhere.  I couldn’t feel his presence.  It was like last year never even happened.  I smiled to myself in satisfaction.

              A few moments later our waitress came back with our drinks.  I hoped she hadn’t noticed I was blushing.  Without a word she placed them in front of us, anger ornamented on her pretty face.

“Ready to order yet?” she asked, almost irritated by our presence.  Well, mostly mine.

              “No,” Jensen replied.  “We’d like a couple more minutes if that’s alright with you.”

Yeah
, I thought,
considering we haven’t even glanced at the menu since we sat down.  How can I focus on something other than Jensen?  He’s too handsome to look away from.

              “Yeah.  Whatever,” she said with an attitude, storming off with her long hair waving behind her.

              “Someone seems a bit cranky,” Jensen chuckled.

              “I wonder why,” I teased.

              “She’s just bitter because she sees I’m with such a gorgeous woman.  And she’s certainly
not
you.”

I couldn’t help it, I blushed again.  That was something I used to do all the time when I was the normal Avalon.  It felt great feeling the heat rise up to my cheeks once more.  I was starting to feel
alive
again.

              “Do you normally grin this much?” he asked with a smile of his own.

Have I really been doing that the entire time?

Embarrassment was now on its way.  “Um,” I began, “not recently.  I used to though.”  For a second, his face fell but regained control with a warm smile.

              “Then I hope it’s a good thing I’ve been causing you to do so.”

It was certainly all right with me.  We fixed our eyes on each other but didn’t speak.  It was as if we were in our own little world – an invisible bubble of quiet.  Our utopia was disturbed when a woman shrieked to the right of us.

              “Ugh!  You moron!  I can’t believe this!  Look what you did!” she yelled at the waiter.  He looked to be my age, maybe a little older.  He seemed distressed.  I felt sorry for him.  Food carnage was sprawled across the floor in all directions.  The light breeze was now blowing it around.

              “I’m sorry, miss,” the young waiter said, scrambling to wipe the food off the woman’s lap.  “I’ll clean this up right away.  Dessert is on the house.”

              “It’s just pastry, honey, it’ll wash out,” said the man she was dining with – most likely her husband.

              “Oh, Ralph,” she said infuriated, “
shut up
.”  And the couple disappeared inside.

              “I try to take you out to a nice restaurant but instead end up at a circus!” Jensen exclaimed, chuckling.

              “I like the circus,” I laughed.  “I’m having a really nice time.”

              “Yeah?”  His face lit up.

              “Yes.”

              “Well then, I guess we better take a look at our menus.  Shall we?”  He opened his but I stared at my unopened one.  “Huh,” he thought, “you know what you’re getting?  Because I have no clue.”  He paused for a second.  “Avalon?”

              I looked up at him.  “She’s going to spit in our food, isn’t she …” I laughed.

              He chuckled loudly.  “I suppose you could be right about that one.  Our waitress doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

              “More like she doesn’t like that I’m here with you.”

              “She can feel however she wants.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked, perplexed that I even mentioned it.  I was surprising myself more and more with every word I spoke tonight.

              “Yes.  I was going to ask you the same thing.”  Jensen left three dollars on the table for the drinks.

              “I know this great little place just down the road.  It’s super cheap and
so
good.”

              “Are we going deep-sea fishing for our meal?” he teased, glancing over at the beach.