Pure Illusion (14 page)

Without
a word, his fingers curl into my elbow and he drags me down the hallway,
through the sea of bodies, out the front door. Hero abruptly stops. I look up
to see Rex and all his masculine glory, wearing all black, in his path. “What’s
this?” Rex says, his electric blue eyes sliding around Hero to me.

“Nothing,”
Hero replies. His fingers tighten on my elbow and I whimper. “I’m taking her
home.”

Rex
studies me for a long moment, his eyes thoroughly taking in my hair, my face,
my dress, my shoes, and finally on Hero’s hand at my elbow. His long, steady
gaze has gone beyond natural curiosity and makes feel like I’m some kind of
foreign object, filed and labeled for further
inspection. There’s something
about his intense blue eyes that are so very familiar. “Did you come to wish me
happy birthday, Isabel?”

Hero
dips his head down to stare at me expectedly.

I
jerk my elbow free. “Yes.”

Rex’s
eyes shift up to Hero. “I think she wants to stay.”

“She
doesn’t know what she wants,” Hero counters.

“I
think she does. You shouldn’t pressure a lady to do things she doesn’t want to
do.”

“Yeah,
you
know all about that,” Hero scoffs.

Rex’s
eyes change into something dark and deadly, he flexes his fingers at his side.
“I guess you’re right.” Then he smiles, blinding and lethal. His gleaming blue
eyes fall back on me and
see
right through me.

A
wave of panic washes over me and a prickle races down the line of my spine. I
grip the back of Hero’s T-shirt, burying my face in the soft material. “I
wouldn’t rape her here though, not with everyone watching, unless she’s into
that kind of shit?
Are
you into that, Isabel?”

“Motherfucker!”

I
feel Hero entire body tense and he lunges forward and then stops abruptly.

“Hey now,” a female’s voice cautions.
“Leave shit way
it’s at. Don’t get your hands filthy with it.”

“Move,
Taylor!” Hero shouts.

“I
think you’re absolutely correct. We should move, like to your car. I ran my ass
down here, so you owe me a ride back home,” Taylor says, laughing, trying her
best to lighten the situation.

“I
think she’s right,” Rex says, his voice tight and serious.

We,
as in Hero and I, begin to move. I lift my head to see a lanky girl, her
loosely curly hair midnight under the moon, hauling and dragging Hero by the
hand to his black Audi sedan. I shudder as I pass Rex and his fierce glare. I
follow Hero, linked by his shirt.

Hero
pulls his keys out and unlocks the doors, the headlights flashing on. My
fingers unclench his shirt. Taylor pries opens the door and I’m shoved into the
backseat by her. She shuts my door and climbs into the passenger seat and Hero
settles in. The doors slam shut and the engine roars to life. “Strap up,” he
demands.

Both
sounds of our seat-belts click and Hero presses on the accelerator, sending us
flying down the street. My body jolts against the belt that firmly holds me
against the smooth leather.

Unclear & Focused

Hero
drives on for a while, stopping at a fast-food place to get us all greasy
cheeseburgers, salty fries, and fizzy sodas. Taylor sings “Somewhere over the
rainbow” out loud and talks about rainbows nonstop: the color, the size, the
texture, when they appear, when they leave, how they form. The conversation
about rainbows lasts for what seems like forever. I guess it’s not really a
conversation if Taylor is the only one conversing. I would find her enthusiasm
and optimistic outlook on life annoying if she wasn’t so sweet and if I didn’t
love that song myself. Tyler used to sing the exact same song to me almost
every night.

Hero
devours his food and mostly hers too. I pick over my burger and chew on few
salty fires, but I don’t have much of an appetite.

He
pulls up into a dirt yard with a brown shotgun house. Rollerblades, big bouncy
balls, a red tricycle, a light blue inflatable pool among other things are
scattered around the front. This house is in the Parker District, a sketchy
side of town where most of the crimes occur. I don’t even know her and I don’t
want her to get out the car, it’s just not safe here.

“Well,
this is me,” Taylor announces quietly.

“Let
me walk you to the door,” Hero says just as quietly.

She
looks at him for brief moment and then nods, twisting her neck to glance at me.
I can’t tell what her eye color is. They could be green, hazel, or blue. But
that doesn’t matter; the shape of her eyes is hypnotizing. They’re wide, almost
doll-like and almond-shaped. So pretty, like everything else about her. Her
loose curly hair frames her round face perfectly. From what I can see, her skin
is clear, smooth and a deep-golden brown. Taylor might be Italian, or Latin,
maybe a beautiful combination of both.
“Nice to me you,
Isabel.”
She smiles at me, tender and sinecure. “Sorry about throwing
you in the car, but Hero
is
kinda important to me. You
know?”

I
nod and Hero jerks his head. “
Kinda
important?” he repeats as if the
words are completely foreign to him.

She
smiles and laughs. “I mean, super important. I don’t want him to get in any
trouble. Rex is trouble, for everyone.” She pauses and puts a hand on Hero’s
cheek. I think he blushes a little. “Hero has been through a lot. He doesn’t
need more negative things in his life.”

My
eyes shift from Taylor to Hero in sudden awareness. She’s in love with him.
Taylor ran all the way to the eastside of town to Rex’s house just to make sure
Hero didn’t get into “trouble.” The run might have only been four miles, but
still. It’s dark and she lives in a not so safe area.

“I
understand, won’t happen again. Well, at least on my part,” I say, grinning
back at her.

“Thank
you,” she whispers gratefully.

They
both glide out the car. They laugh and murmur to one another as they approach
the steps towards her small porch. She fishes out a key on long chain from her
pocket. Hero digs into his pocket as well and pulls out his wallet. He takes
what I assume is cash and tries to hand it to her. She shoves his hand away,
saying something I can’t hear or make out. He shakes his head, taking a step
forward with his outreached hand towards her. She shakes her head, too. His
head dips down and his free hand pinches the bridge of his nose. Taylor wraps
her arms around his middle and gives him the tightest embrace. Hero hugs her
back, sneaking the wad of cash in her back pocket of her jeans.

He
eases out the hug, kisses her on her forehead and waves, turning his back to
her as he makes his way down the steps.

She
bites her lip and sags against the door to watch him leave. Her eyes flicker
over to me and I tense.

She
smiles and gives her head a slight shake, waving sheepishly.

I
wave back and watch her unlock the door, open it and disappear into the dark
house.

Hero
jogs to the car and around the hood as it begins to rain.

“She
loves you,” I whisper when he glides back into the car.

Hero
starts the engine, looks over his shoulder and reverses out of the dirt yard,
effectively ignore me completely.

“She’s
such a nice girl. Taylor shouldn’t be living here.”

His
jaw tenses as he puts the car back in gear. “Where do you want to go,
Falcon’s?”

“No,”
I mumble, looking out the raindrop-splattered window. Clasps of thunder begin
to rumble and shake the ground. I flinch a few times. Thunderstorms always give
me the worse anxiety. I hated them ever since I can remember.

“I’m
heading to Hunter’s to crash.”

“Perfect,”
I say, “is there room for one more?”

Hero
shrugs, indifferent. “He’s not there, so it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Where
is he?”

“Hunter
has been getting help outside of town.”

“Help?”
I repeat,
confused.

“Professional help.
He’s seeing a
psychiatrist and taking anger management classes. He told me what happened
between you two, and it
really
messed him up. Hunter doesn’t want to
hurt you; he’s just extreme in everything he does. He has been like that
forever. That’s just Hunter.”

“I
know he doesn’t want to hurt me,” I admit, closing my eyes and pressing my
forehead to the chilled window, squeezing my wounded hand together to feel the
throb of pain. “When will he be back?”

“I
don’t know, maybe sometime late Sunday. You’ll be gone by then.”

The
rest of drive to Hunter’s house is quiet, only filled with the sounds of
howling wind, ear-shattering thunder, and pouring rain. The yellow and white
illuminating lights from the town fade and then disappear entirely as Hunter
drives through the thick, dark forest. A perfect rectangular two story house
made of glass, stone, and dark wood comes into view. The house is so
spectacularly clear you can see right through it. The winding pebble pathway to
the massive oak front door cuts exactly through the large yard with brilliant
LED bulbs glowing on either side. His house looks like it belongs here, as if
it’s a part of nature’s original design, an immaculate crystal shooting up from
the dirt and ferns.

Hunter
and I slam the doors of his car shut and run up to the yard to the opening of
the deep porch. He inserts the key into the lock and pushes open the door, gesturing
for me to go in first. I scurry inside the dark space, stepping out of my
drenched, soggy boots.

Hero
flips the lights in the vast living room on; he scratches his head and looks at
me. “Well, you know where everything is. I’m goin’ to bed.”

I
nod. “Thanks.”

Hero
nods too and then jogs up the spiral staircase. I hear a door shut shortly
after. Wandering around the living room, I take in some of the pictures on the
bookshelves and white mantel of the stacked stone fireplace. Some of them are
of his baby sister, Nya. I think she’s around Tyler’s age. She looks so very
different from all of them. Nya’s hair is far from blond, it long and dark, the
color of coal. Her eyes are smoky emerald green, and her skin is creamy brown
like mine. She’s smiling and has her arm thrown over Hero and Hunter in almost
in every photo. Other pictures are of Hunter’s friends from campus and his
mother, Grace, with her timeless beauty and sophistication. Hunter and Hero are
exact replicas of their mother: golden hair, fair skin, pale eyes, absurdly
attractive in every way. But even with all that beauty she’s still an ice
queen. Grace is a conservative, religious woman that will gladly destroy and
degrade you to prove a point. She hates homosexuals, democrats, anyone with a different
opinion than hers, and thinks each race should
only
reproduce within
their own. Grace never cared for my family much; we were everything she
despises.

My
eyes roam over more walls, hoping to see a picture of us somewhere. We took a
lot pictures when we were together, when we were friends. But in the end there
are no photos of Hunter and me. So I don’t understand the ping of
disappointment that stings badly. I clearly don’t belong in his life. 

With
sluggish feet, I wander up the stairs and into Hunter’s spacious room. Pawing
through his chest of drawers, I find one of his large T-shirts, shimmy out of
the mirror dress and toss Hunter’s shirt over my head. Sweeping the covers
back, I lie in Hunter’s bed. His scent wraps around me in a weird protective
and comforting shield, causing my chest to become tight.

***

Hero

Listening
to my iPod, I take a few swigs of moonshine. It only takes a little to get
shitfaced. Too much is swimming close to death. The clear liquor burns my mouth
and sears my throat and chest. The warmth spreads quickly, ebbing away the icy
numbness. Sitting the bottle down, I bury my face in the soft pillows and hope
sleep takes me before the nightmares of old memories do. Isabel is not the only
one broken and hurting. I loved Tyler, not in the same way he loved me, but I
loved
him. He was more than a friend and less than a lover. We grow up together and
played house when Isabel and Hunter made us, we were their children. Tyler was
so fucking fragile and that’s what made him unbelievably beautiful to me.

He
was troubled and shattered. I wanted to protect him from the world, wanted to
fight anyone who caused him distress and many times did. We we’re planning to
travel the world together with Lark. It was something all three of us looked
forward to. We were set to leave right after graduation, so I don’t understand
why he would go through with suicide. He had my fucking number. Tyler knew rain
or shine, day or night that I would be there for him. He fucking knew. After
everything we’ve been through I know deep down within the depths of my heart,
hundred percent assured that he knew I had his damn back. He was hurting, I was
hurting. We were in hell together.

But
he didn’t call. He didn’t tell me what was bothering him. The last week of his
life he isolated himself. He didn’t want to be around me at all. I should’ve
picked up the signs, caught on faster. Maybe he would still be alive if I did
my duty in such. Tyler loved being in my space and in my life, shit he was my
life. Outside of him there was little to no rays of hope. We hung out every
fucking day. He introduced me to Taylor Cruz our freshman year of high school.
She’s quiet and pretty and dressed like shit, that’s all I knew. Tyler told me
he’d been friends with her since sixth grade. I thought that was strange
considering I knew almost everything about Tyler and never once did he mention
Taylor before. She’s nice though. I think she has a thing for me, or had a
thing for me. I didn’t pounce on the opportunity when I had the chance because
I was too concerned about Tyler’s feelings. I knew he loved me in a way I could
never love him. I’m just not wired that way. He liked boys. I don’t. But what
we had was bigger than that. I didn’t ask Taylor to be mine because I didn’t
want to hurt him.

I
don’t know why Hunter and I share this unhealthy fascination with delicate
souls that go down the road of self-destruction. We want to save them and in
the end and be
their everything
, their world. I don’t
know what made Hunter pull the stick from his ass and finally get involved with
Isabel again. I just hope he realizes how fucking lucky he is to have her
breathing
and fight for her, even when it seems like he’s fighting a losing battle. He
should fight for her until his heart stops beating. I would fight for Tyler
like that. I
did
fight for Tyler like that. Hunter is too complicated.
He should just stake his claim.

Isabel
is fucking attractive and she doesn’t have an inkling of how beautiful she
really is.
Tragic.
It’s torment every time I look at
her. She looks so much like Tyler, it’s like she’s the girl version of him.
Pure fucking agony.
I have some kind of longing and
connection towards her because of the resemblance. I want to comfort her,
stroke her hair and whisper reassurances in her ear and then another part of me
wants nothing to do with her, an entirely different part of me wants to hate
her. She’s like a walking reminder of my biggest failure in life.

I
can’t live up to my fucking name.

I
turn the volume up on my iPod and take more sips from the lethal liquid. My
eyes drift to the window and I watch a sea of raindrops splash and crash down
until blackness takes over.

***

Isabel

The
thunder crackles and harsh white lightning bolts flash across the sky. The rain
is heavy and isn’t letting up, transforming the outside into a water world.
Scooting out the bed, I make my way down the long wooden corridor to Hero’s
room. I can’t sleep, maybe he is still awake.

The
door is ajar, but when I step inside the dark room, Hero is passed out on top
of the bed, fully clothed, his long limbs sprawled out and taking up most of
the space. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open, earbuds plugged into
his ears, Nirvana blasting from the speakers. For a moment, I just admire the
beauty that is him: tousled hair, thick lashes that curl upwards, full,
kissable lips that are too similar to Hunter’s, the cutest nose, and a strong
jaw line. Every single detail about Hero is appealing in a very unnatural way.
No human has the right to be that attractive.