But I also don’t want to be a monster—and Collintold me to give in to that part. He even tried to convince me somehow that it was a good thing!
And maybe if you’re an immortal, all-knowing spirit, the math works out for that. Maybe in the grand scheme of the universe, there’d be some kind of net benefit. But it sure as hell doesn’t work for me.
I was searching for a reason to believe that we weren’t meant for each other. Looks like I now have it.
And I don’t think I’ve ever felt so miserable.
21
We all rideback without saying another word. It takes over an hour to get back to my block in San Francisco. The driver doesn’t look at me when I exit the car, and I don’t look at Collin, even though I know he’s there, just a step behind me. Driver Dan then motors off to deal with what I just did to him, what I made him do, all on his own. I hope it doesn’t mess him up too bad. But it probably will.
Once back in my apartment, I kick off my shoes and go straight for the bathroom. I drop my pants to the chipped tile floor, knowing it’ll make the Avatar disappear. I don’t want to put any more effort into pretending he doesn’t exist, and I don’t want to even touch the stupid watch to remove it.
I give myself a quick once-over in the mirror. There’s dried blood under my nose, on my chin, on my polo shirt. My eyes look a bit hollow. And I’m covered in dirt. But I’ve been worse off. (And not too long ago!) Almost all ofthe bruising from the car crash is gone. And the Obligation is dead quiet for now. If I can keep it from digging into me again, I should be back to normal in a couple days.
Big “if.”
I strip off the rest of my clothes and step into my second shower of the morning. Crank it up to what feels like near-boiling and try to burn off all the filth I feel.
Nothing happened, I tell myself.I stopped it in time.
But I know different. I might pretend the monster is something separate. That’s just another pipe dream, though. It’s not something “other.” Something I can pretend belongs to someone else. This is who I am.
Suddenly, it all feels like too much. My mom, the druid, what I just did, Collin, the whole fucked-up night and day. What I am. Tears flood my eyes, and I let them come. I press my forehead against the peeling semi-gloss wall above the tub, and choke out wailing sobs while hot water beats down on my back. The truth is, I’ve never needed fae magic to convince me I should hate myself. I just need to look inside to get that answer.
I let the water stream over me for ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Have myself a good full-throated little cry. But eventually, I run out of tears, and then I’m just this pathetic, useless dude, pruning up in the shower, which doesn’t change a goddamned thing.
I turn off the faucet, grab a towel, and scrape it over my face. The water did its work. I’m a long way from okay, but I’m no longer blindingly angry. I can do what needs to be done.
I finish drying off and get myself fresh clothes fromthe bedroom. Dark-wash jeans. Gray sweatshirt. Athletic sneakers.
The window still looks intact. I walk up to it. I can tap on the glass.
Well, I guess some thingscanbe fixed with magic.
Time to focus on the other stuff.
I get the watch from my other pants—leaving the pointless book page it was wrapped in behind—and slip it into the back pocket of my jeans, just before I sit down on my love seat. Collin appears immediately. He’s way over on the other side of the room, standing in the corner between my cheapo silver plastic TV and even cheaper IKEA torch lamp. Barely glancing up at me. His eyes are red, like he’s been crying, too.
We stare at each other for several seconds. Seems he’s waiting for me to start.
Okay.
“Why did you tell me to give in to the monster inside me, Collin?” I ask, keeping my tone cold and steady.
“Ah, Alvin, you’renota monster…” His voice is soft. Full of emotion. Rough. He has been crying. “You’re the opposite of that.”
“Really? I was going to rape that man.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No thanks to you.”
He bites his lower lip and drops his gaze. “You were fierce sick. Probably more than you could tell. The Obligation was trying to kill you, and you needed the power to fight it.” He looks back up at me. “You wouldn’t have hurt him. Not in any permanent way. If you hadn’t stopped it, even his memories would be happy. Notbecause of any mind control. Because it would have been a truly joy-filled experience for him.”
I deliver my words flat and hard. “I’m not sure his wife would agree with how joyful that experience was. And I’ve heard the argument you’re making before.”
His frown deepens. “Your mom is wrong about a great many things. But not this.”
