Jenga

Chapter Twenty-Three- My Little Monster

"Please calm down . . . she didn't mean to . . . spit on you? Ah, whatever! Just forgive her," Wisty tells her father. It's unusual. I spit on him, and he's getting angry as if he's just woken up from being knocked out. And I didn't even spit on him as much as he's making it seem.

Wisty's father grabs my neck and holds me against the wall. Now this is too much. "You will pay for wetting my hair with your filthy DNA!"

I glance over my shoulder, at Charlie, or where he was, rather. Where'd he go? Then, suddenly, I hear a bang. I look ahead and there stands Charlie with his fist thrown up at Wisty's father's head. "Do you want to die?"

"Charlie!" I exclaim, trying to ignore the pain in my neck. How is this man not knocked out yet? Is he that pissed at me wetting his hair?

Charlie lowers his fist and looks at me. "Why do you sound surprised? You know that if anyone hurts you, they'll die."

Is he serious? "I appreciate the thought and concern, but this is your fiancee's father we're talking about here! Your parents will never forgive you! Wisty will never forgive you."

"That's right," Wisty's father says, regaining his strength and standing back up. "No matter what, you are to be married to my daughter."

"Because you want to be selfish," Charlie says darkly. Oh, no. This is bad. I better do something before Wisty loses her father to a demented, but hot sixteen-year-old boy who happens to be my boyfriend.

"This is for calling my DNA filthy!" I shout, and kick Wisty's father in the place that no man should ever be kicked in. My bad. Her father shrieks in pain, and Charlie grabs his neck, pinning him against the wall like he did so to me. Charlie is scarily strong. Wisty's father's grip on my neck was strong, but Charlie pulled it off easily.

"And this, Rowan is for touching my girl with your filthy hands." Charlie closes in on Rowan's neck, and he screams, but doesn't apologize. What a stubborn man.

"Stop! Stop, Charlie!" Wisty and I both finally say.

Seconds later, Charlie releases Rowan's neck, and leaves him on the floor, everyone in shock, while he runs off. Wisty kneels over to Rowan, almost in tears. I look at Arthur, Julia, Cyan and Max. They're faces are all telling me one thing.

Go after Charlie.

I grin widely. "As if I didn't know that already." Running off, I search for the boy who could've gotten arrested if he had continued.

Man, he's a fast runner.

. . . It's been five minutes and I still haven't found him. He runs too fast. And he's super strong?

"What is he, Superman?"

"I try to be."

I heard that. I don't know exactly where it came from. Looking around, I spot an alleyway across the street where Charlie is sitting, his left hand a bit bruised from that punch. He looks dead. Wet. Oh, yeah, it's raining. When did it start? I don't even have an umbrella and I didn't notice.

He looks like an angel of darkness--the ones I read from those storybooks when I was little. I walk over to him, of course checking to see if any cars are coming.

I sit next to him, and  make a gesture that should tell him to sit in between my legs. He does so, but with so much woe that you'd cry by looking at him.

"I'm sorry," he says. his voice cracking.

I sigh with a you're-hopeless-and-lucky-you-have-me expression. "Let me tell you something. When I was young, I used to read a lot of fantasy. I read picture books about angels. The pure, white angels would always defeat the dark angels. And it didn't make much sense to me; why did white defeat black? How come black couldn't defeat white? Would they be considered evil? What does evil mean?"

"I'm not catching your point."

I shake my head. Hopeless. "I'm not done. Let me finish."

"Fine."

"Anyway, I thought about the color black. Since when did become the color of evil? And I wondered if the dark angels were really evil, like the pure angels said so. They were probably just . . . broken. They needed fixing." Saying this, I don't know what comes over me, but I begin to stroke Charlie's wet hair. "Charlie, you're not evil, or a bad person. I just need to put you in check."

"That doesn't matter. I could have killed him. I'm not broken, I'm a mess. I try to be Superman, I try to save the ones I love, but somehow, I lose myself in the process."

"That's right, you told me before that you're not the guy I want you to be. You implied that you're not a hero."

"Exactly."

"Are you that retarded?"

"Excuse me? I'm retarded now? That's an insult to the people out there who actually are."

"OK, I'm sorry, but you're a moron. How do you know what I want you to be? How do you know that I don't already love you as you are? How, huh? You wanna be like Neil? A psychic psychopath?"

I begin to feel Charlie warm up. "Noa . . . are you sure about me?"

"I've never been more sure about someone in my entire life. We help each other out if we're together. We're better that way, my little monster."

<> <> <>

I see a flash of light. Well, I don't see it; my eyes are closed. Opening my eyes, I look in the direction of the where I saw-ish the light. Holy crap, we're still in the alley. I look down and see Charlie fast asleep.

I smile at him. "The monster's asleep, eh?"

Then the flash occurs again. I whip my head around to the right and my eyes widen.  There, standing and grinning as if he wants to ruin our lives, a man with a camera in his hands spots me, and scurries away.

I forgot Charlie is rich. I forgot his family is famous. I forgot we come from two different worlds. I forgot he's got an arranged marriage to Wis--

"If you were thinking lowly of yourself because of that, now you're retarded."

I open my mouth to scold him, but I think otherwise. "You're right."

"I know I am."

"Then why didn't you stop him if you were awake?!"

Charlie sighs and gets up. I follow him. "I was tired," he says.

"But now it's going to be in the newspaper! People will know our relationship, think you're cheating on Wisty. Moreover, they'll be pretty skeptical about you dating a girl not in your league." I don't know what I'm saying. Words are just coming out.

Charlie pushes a piece of my long hair behind my ear. "I thought I just told you not to think lowly of yourself. And, in a sense, I'm cheating on her."

"It's hard not to! I don't know why I kept fighting it, if it was for your sake or mine, but I can't anymore. I feel that I'm losing to you."

"Well I feel that I'm losing you. Noa, I need you to understand that I don't care. I don't care if the whole world knows about us, thinks disgracefully about us, they're insolent children. I love you, OK? That should be all that matters."

"What if . . . your father finds out?"

"If you're willing to fight for this relationship, I don't care."

"I'm willing. But hey, where did you get this sudden boost of confidence from?" I say, taking Charlie's hand and starting to walk.

He tightens his grasp on my hand and laughs. "I got it from you. Who else?"