The Patron Saint of Monsters

Chapter Five Part Five

Oleander had this slight problem with making decisions; she tended to change her mind shortly after she made one. For as long as she could remember, her life had  been full of moments of regret. Moments where all she could think was “I should have ordered the soup.” “I should have asked for purple glitter.” “I shouldn’t have let my friends in my house, or bled on that Ouija board.” But right now as she sat in her bed in a drunken stupor, knowing that her friends were passed out in other rooms, the thought racing through her head was, “I shouldn’t get rid of Trent.”

Not when Trent was nice and familiar. Not when things felt easier with Trent than they did with anybody else, when things like banter and laughter came as naturally as sucking air into her lungs. Not when Trent did things like carry her bridal style up to her room because she couldn’t hold her liquor as good as she had thought. She sighed in confusion as Trent handed her pajamas, she mindlessly changed into them. She didn’t bother asking Trent to turn around but he did anyway and after she crawled into bed and lay down on her side, he tucked her in tightly before crawling in behind her.

His arm was around her waist and her hair was in his face. He never minded a faceful of Oleander’s unthinkably soft hair, he loved her intoxicating scent; except for tonight. It wasn’t even the smell of booze and intoxication that bothered him. She was tainted with the aroma of Ian, his Forrest soap and cologne or maybe aftershave, whatever it was, Trent was willing to bet that it was the same thing Ian’s father wore. Trent remembered when he was legitimately a teenager, he recalled doing things to impress girls he just didn’t remember being as completely goofy as Ian. Trent felt as though maybe he would have been more like Ian, if he himself wasn’t tainted with darkness and sadness. Trent hated to admit it, but Ian was a solid caricature of whom Trent would want Oleander to be with. If she wasn’t meant to be with Trent obviously. Trent had long ago started considering Oleander in terms like “Mine”. He just needed to find a way to show Oleander that she was as his as he was hers.

Oleander began to wiggle and pushed Trent’s arm off of her, rolling over to face him. Trent smiled at the pleasant surprise and leaned back with ease when she pressed him onto his back, he wrapped his arms around her slim waist when she lay atop him. She ran her hands up beneath his worn thin tee shirt, her soft fingers dancing over his rib bones, reaching his protruding clavicle before twirling and returning down to V of his hip bones. It was quite fortunate that Trent didn't require oxygen; for had he needed to breathe in that moment, he surely would have suffocated.

Oleander frowned and muttered “How is this possible?”

“How is what possible?” He countered.

“I was thinking, I can see how you wish me to perceive right? So there shouldn’t be anything under your clothes. Because you aren’t real.” She said.

“But I am real, love.” He assured her with a caress to her forehead.

She shook her head with a force that comes only with intoxication, mumbling “Don’t.”

He returned his hands to her hips in concession. She turned her head to face him once more. “When I was a child, why didn’t you make me perceive you, as also a child.”

Trent’s eyebrows rose and he replied, “Erm, well. I guess I didn’t do that because the thought never entered my brain until you just said that. I should have done that.”

“Most kids have imaginary friends who are their age.” She nodded. “Do you think all imaginary friends are like you?”

“No. You and I, we have something special.” He declared.

“You’re so weird sometimes Trent. You don’t talk like it’s the nineteen nineties. Why doesn’t technology freak you out?” She slurred.

“I read almost constantly. Even though I’m not alive, it’s like I am alive. I watch the news, I remember September eleventh. I remember Hurricane Katrina. Just because you couldn’t see me doesn’t mean that I couldn’t see the world around me.” Trent explained.

“Oh. Yeah.” was all Oleander could muster.

“I have date later, you can’t Trina.”  She said a few minutes later.

“Darling, I’m not Trina.” Trent said worriedly, decidedly ignoring the mention of a date.

“I meant you can’t tag along.” Oleander said in a whine.

“I won’t.” Trent reassured her.

“I don’t believe you.” Oleander mumbled with an exaggerated pout.

“Well that’s probably because I’m lying sweetheart.”  He quipped with a smirk.

Oleander just grumbled and ducked her head, deciding to go to sleep and solve the problem later.