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times, done some drugs, and laid with her fair share of men, but in the shadow of the panoply of heartbreak and regret that this woman had probably been through, she was but a girl.

Lena made for the kitchen. “You want a drink, baby?”

Even dopey, Téa knew that wasn’t a good idea. “Uhh, not really.”

Lena nodded. “Too early for you probably, huh? Eh. Way I figure, it’s happy hour somewhere. A couple of girls can have a drink.” She put her hands on her hips and leaned in like a diva, looking at Téa sideways. “You don’t want a drink, maybe you have other concerns? What is it this time, baby? Got more questions about a guy?”

Téa chuckled weakly, mostly at herself. “Uh, no. It’s not really a guy problem this time, Mrs. Rod.”

Lena was on a roll with her fawning and couldn’t be bothered to stop. “Speaking of which,” she spoke as she sauntered into the kitchen to make a small drink for herself, “you gonna have a date for the big Komen Fundraiser I’m throwing together?”

Téa had completely forgotten about Lena’s little masquerade ball. She’d gotten the e-mail but hadn’t responded. “Oh . . . maybe.”

Lena leaned her head out of the kitchen and looked at Téa admonishingly. “Baby, you do not want to come to one of these things stag, believe me.” She stepped out of the kitchen and put her hand on her chest. “I kinda get a pass. I think I deserve it, but you, no. With these types, it is socially unacceptable for a girl to be showing up alone.”

Téa shifted around and shrugged. “You know, I don’t really need to go.”

Lena approached her with a halting hand. “Oh, no. Téa, you need to come. I need you and Christina there to support me. You girls are my team. We’re Charlie’s Angels. You wouldn’t force me to deal with those awful people alone, would you?”

Téa had been guilted into service. She smiled nervously and gave in. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Lena smiled warmly. “Thank you.” There she switched gears again. “It shouldn’t be hard for someone with as much going for them as you to find a guy who will go with you. And someone with a suit, not those skinny guys I always see you hanging out with you find at the coffee shop or whatever. Just wear something showing a little more skin. This”—Lena indicated the clothes Téa was wearing with a meandering finger—“this ratty hoody look isn’t going to fly.”

Téa smiled and shook her head. “I’ll give it a shot, Mrs. Rodriguez.”

Lena smirked. She knew her victory had been won through no manner of high-minded guile. “Thanks. So what did you come here for, sweetie?”

Téa sucked in a bunch of air and held it for a few seconds before letting out a sharp sigh. “Uh, clothes, actually. I’m looking for clothes.”

Lena tilted her head slightly and squinted in consternation.

Téa continued nervously. She was about to probe a nerve, and she knew it. “I’ve been working on a charity project of my own, and I’m trying to get old clothes together for it. I know that . . . you have some of Adam’s clothes still, and . . . I know that you’re always trying to do good things with his . . . legacy, so . . .” Téa paused. Her tension was so apparent, her breaths were almost echoing in the room. She never did well in these situations. “Uhh . . .”

Of course, the whole time Téa had been talking, an increasingly large smile had been growing on Lena’s face. It was two parts adoration and eight parts hilarity at watching Téa crumble under enormous, imaginary pressure.

“What?” Téa finally asked.

Lena shook her head with the perfect white smile still carving up her cheeks. She walked right up to Téa and embraced the young woman’s shoulders. “You are not gonna have any trouble at all finding a guy to go with you to the fundraiser.” She pinched Téa’s cheeks. “You are adorable.”

At that, Lena walked away toward the stairs. Téa was left to puzzle.

“I’ll get those clothes for you right away,” Lena said as she climbed the stairs. Then her voice resounded through the house once again. “What’s the charity?”

Téa had to swallow down the urge to say, “The Human Fund.”

“Uh . . . it’s a church thing!” Téa shouted after her. “The homeless, you know. The church is . . .” Here Téa’s voice trailed off so Mrs. Rodriguez couldn’t hear. “Always trying to help . . . the homeless.” It sounded too stupid to say at full volume.

There was a period of silence, and then Téa could hear Lena’s heels on the stairs.

“Is that why you needed Christina’s address earlier,” Lena called, “to get old clothes from her?”

Téa didn’t remember this conversation and briefly questioned just how high she’d been. “When?”

“When what?”

“When did I ask you about Christina’s address?” She felt like she still knew Christina’s address by heart. Did they move?

Lena came back downstairs carrying a rather large cardboard box filled with old clothes. “Earlier, when we were on Facebook? You asked me how I was doing, I said I was doing fine, and then you asked me if I still had Christina’s address. Wasn’t that you? Does someone else have access to your account?”

Téa thought a moment, with her eyebrows furrowed from the stress of it. Finally, she figured it out, and her face relaxed. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Now I remember.” She shook her head and covered her face with her hand. “I’ve been busy lately.”

Lena smiled at Téa’s awkward behavior again. “You do seem pretty tired.”

The two girls giggled. Téa’s laughter was painfully awkward.

“Well,” Lena started, “these aren’t going to make the homeless any more stylish.”

Téa smiled when she looked at the clothes. It was mostly graphic tees and blue jeans. Adam never needed a good shirt between high school and the military. Téa took the box, and it almost immediately fell out of her tiny hands. Both girls giggled, and Téa thanked Mrs. Rodriguez for her help.

“No problem, sweetie,” Lena replied. “I’m just glad they’re finally coming in handy, and that Adam can still be a hero to someone.”

Téa smiled and nodded, licking her lips knowingly. “Yeah. It feels kinda good knowing that, doesn’t it? Well, I’ll see ya Mrs. Rod.”

Lena stabbed a finger at Téa. “I’ll hold you to that. I see precious little of you around here, and I know Christina won’t mind your visit either. A friendship starves when all it has is Facebook Messenger.”

Lena held the door open, and Téa took the clothes outside to her car. The small economy car didn’t offer much in the way of storage space, so she had to seat it all cattywompus on the passenger’s side. The askew position pointed the open box top toward her as she sat in the driver’s seat. After starting the car, she looked over, and it called her name. It looked so soft.

Téa sighed, her eyelids heavier than she’d ever felt before. She pitched over unintentionally, and the world was a blank space before her head even landed in the embrace of the cloth.


13


In a distant neighborhood, Christina Lacey and her husband, Daniel, left their house as the sun approached its peak and started a leisurely walk to the park. They lived no more than a couple of blocks away. As they took each other’s hands and started their stroll, they paid no attention to the slouching, hooded figure that watched them on the far side of the street.

Adam left Téa’s at nearly a run not long after Téa did and had arrived at Christina’s house just as they were about to leave. Luckily, some of Téa’s lazy sweatpants and baggy hoodies fit Adam, albeit tightly. He had been staring at the house from a distance and quickly turned away when the front door swung open by surprise. Once the happy couple had their backs to him, Adam dared to watch as they walked away. Seeing the two holding hands encouraged a fresh wave of envy and regret from the poor, dead soldier. He could only take a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the terrible feeling that was overcoming him.

Adam followed the duo all the way to their destination. As they walked, the leaves of the deciduous trees that lined the sidewalks in that part of town filtered the noon sun and painted a picturesque image of young love in the city. Danny did seem different somehow. He had been working out, that much was obvious to the naked eye, but there was something more. Danny possessed an uncanny allure about him. Adam noticed that the women who passed him by would sneak furtive looks at him over their shoulders. Some primal part of Adam hated him for that, mostly because somehow that allure had earned Danny Adam’s high school sweetheart as a wife.

Christina was still so beautiful. That day, she wore a blue blouse trimmed with a subdued floral pattern over a white tank top. Her caramel skin was as flawless as ever and was emphasized even more in the sunlight’s complementary glow. She was an angel. Her body had matured further in five years, and Adam looked thirsty staring at her sweet, sweet backside.

Too many times, Danny would check behind them and see Adam skulking in the shadows. Adam knew Danny saw him because their eyes met briefly before Adam could look away, but Danny made no case of it. He didn’t stop to confront Adam, and it didn’t appear as if he recognized Adam, but he was nonetheless very aware that he and his wife were being followed. Adam swore there was something like satisfaction in Danny’s eyes, as if he were daring this stalker to cause distress. The twisted confidence spurned Adam’s rage further. He stewed in impotent silence, and the heat was getting to him. It was not hoodie weather.

At the park, Christina sat down on a swing and Danny started pushing her higher and higher. Christina laughed with glee, the childish delight having been their sole reason for going out. It was a chance for them to be silly together. They looked happy, very happy, to the point that Adam couldn’t even imagine a world where he hadn’t died. That he’d intended to screw up this life of Christina’s was a cruel intention, and by then, a cruel joke. He couldn’t do that.

Adam walked to a distant part of the park and sat down on a bench with both hands stuffed in the front pocket of the hoodie. He could still see the happy couple’s shapes in the distance, and hear Christina’s gleeful chortles. He closed his eyes, hung his head, and sulked.

Adam breathed through his nose, just thinking. He was thinking about the future. All of this was to get back in contact with Christina. He thought about his condition. If he didn’t find his soul mate, he was going to have to keep feeding on human beings and nearly killing them to stay alive. This vampiric victimization would eventually get him into trouble. With Christina, she would understand him still being alive and accept it. That’s what soul mates do. Then he would have an unlimited supply of energy and never need another person again. But at this rate, he would be a ghoul or vampire or incubus or whatever forever. How could she want to be his soul mate if she’s with Danny?

Adam opened his eyes and sat back in his seat, sighing. It was all so complicated. The sun was beating down, and Adam had started to really sweat.

“Why does Téa put up with this?” he grumbled aloud.

Suddenly, a beat cop came walking from Adam’s right and sat down on the bench. Adam looked at the cop out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looked away. An expression of panic was all too apparent on his face. He wondered if the guy knew who he was sitting next to and was just trying not to make a scene out of his arrest.

The cop sat slouching over, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. It appeared as if he was ignoring Adam at first, but then he turned his head and looked directly into Adam’s eyes with recognition. Adam was trying desperately not to look back. The cop peered down

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