The Protection

Twenty - Eight

Campus was crawling with students and faculty, and I tried hopelessly to pull the sweatshirt up again. My new neck accessory was definitely against the puritanical DCU dress code. Beth had back to back classes this morning, and I was relieved to find the apartment was empty. I needed to strip off Ben's old high school basketball shorts, climb into my shower, and Google: best ways to get rid of a hickey. I tried to ignore the black t-shirt that still peeked out from my pile of dirty laundry. It had been over three months since I had last seen Kyler. Three months since he had grabbed my forearm and pleaded for me to understand outside of the convention center in Iowa. I scrubbed at my arms with my loofah until they turned bright red. The worst part was that I couldn't even feel him anymore. His brown eyes were now a muddled glassy shade within the furthest recesses of my mind. I spent many sleepless nights wondering why he just disappeared, why he hadn't been there for me, why I hadn't been enough.

I shut off the water and stepped out into the steam enveloped bathroom. My gray eyes met in the foggy mirror, and I thought for the millionth time: maybe he's married now. Maybe he's off making perfect little Protector babies with his gorgeous new wife, Alana. I angrily combed at my tangled hair, my eyes purposefully avoiding the spot on the bathroom counter where Kyler kissed me so passionately that night all those months ago. Life had stalled. I was stuck in one place. A place with no more visions or attacks or Protector sightings, just classes and drinking and sleeping with Ben - normal college activities. But I had seen behind the curtain, and now my life seemed so dull. I turned off the bathroom light and picked up the black shirt and quickly smelled it. It didn't even smell like Kyler anymore. It smelled like dust and fabric. I tossed it aside and instead chose a gray turtleneck sweater and black skinny jeans.

"A turtleneck would be a good idea today," a deep voice mocked behind me. I turned so quickly that my mascara stained towel almost spun right off of me. A very beautiful, albeit angry, man stood in the corner of my room. The same man that haunted my every dream for the last three months. He was even more stunning than I remembered, even with his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. Kyler nodded pointedly, "It would probably be smart to cover that awful monstrosity on your neck." The disdain oozed from his voice, and I clutched at the spot where Ben bit me last night. Frozen.

"I-" I stammered, but he rolled his perfect honey eyes.

"The fact that you could let a man mark you and degrade you like that is disgusting," he spat. My hands clenched at my towel like I had been slapped.

"Disgusting? Is it as disgusting as an engaged guy ripping off my clothes and feeling me up in my bed?" I snapped, pointing at the sheets behind me. His gaze dropped, but I could feel my anger only mounting, begging to be unleashed. I couldn't stop myself. Everything I imagined saying these months came spilling out. "Or the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about that jerk, no matter how hard I tried, even after he left me without a word. With nothing." He shuffled his feet, looking at the pile of laundry. "I must be a complete doormat to let someone treat me like that." I didn't care how he flinched, or how the color drained from his face. We stood frozen for several moments before I threw my hands into the air. "I haven't seen you in over three months, Kyler Issacs. If you would like to discuss something with me you can text me or call me, just like everyone else. You don't get to meet up with me in my room while I'm half-naked anymore." His Brown Eyes searched mine. "I have classes to go to and things to do today, and frankly, I don't have time for this back and forth drama with you right now." He opened his mouth to reply, but I held up a finger. "Thank you for stopping by. You can go back out the way you came in."

I clutched the gray material of the turtleneck, not daring to turn around. I was not going to give in and let him talk to me and shower me with excuses after all this time. No matter how desperate I was to hear it. I was not a doormat. I was still Perry Andrews. I was a legend around Dallas Christian University. Still, my legendary hands shook as I pulled the shirt over my head. I was unsure if it was the anger or his nearness, but I still felt off kilter. I heard him sigh and exit my open window. I smiled, despite the anxiety that clawed at my chest. Even if I was a mere human, I deserved to be treated better than I had been by this frustrating, egotistical, self-important creature.