Two

The fresh air was welcoming. It was cool and still raining. He slipped a black beanie on his head and slipped his thin hands into his coat pocket. He needed somewhere quiet to sit because she had made him feel sorry and that wasn’t something he was accustomed to. Alexander McLean didn’t want to feel sorry, at least sorry for not wanting to give whatever she would consider a “relationship” a try. It had hurt enough that she had questioned his sexual orientation in front of the guys. They had laughed it off but it was beginning to become discussed a lot because of his refusal to bed her and it was pissing him off. The party incident was her fault. But was she going to apologize? Probably not, because the great Jonna LaSal never apologized. Not for leaving her poor parents in France to come and pursue a musical career here in the states. She never apologized at chasing half his girlfriends away. And for some reason, he put up with her.

He had found his hell’s angel on the earth. She was beautiful but not for him.

Her hair changed too little, and she didn’t have a tattoo. She was always at church and she always tried to annoyingly convince him to go. Was it okay to believe there was a God but not to really care? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t a first priority. She wasn’t either and it was getting harder and harder for him to make her to understand. Why couldn’t they still be friends? It really wasn’t about the tattoo, or church, it was about her self respect. She was still a virgin, maybe? He didn’t know. He didn’t necessarily agree with her celibacy to whenever (he assumed never) but she drank a lot and she was clingy. She was extremely shy if she didn’t know you. So he turned out being the only person who knows her. He hasn’t seen her parents in years ever since she ran away for New York nearly topping ten years ago when she was thirteen. She had paid a couple of friends to make her a fake and it had apparently worked. She never told him how she got through airport security only that she had a fake id. It was a delicate issue to her so he didn’t press.

He had called her an approximate forty-seven times after the party. Mostly to vent off anger toward her. Near the thirtieth phone call, he began to enquire about the safety of driving drunk and then the sentencing period she could face. Mel Gibson was a celebrity and his case would be treated as one. He’d never serve jail time. It was Mel Gibson and she was a simple citizen with a bad temper and a soon to be hang over either in jail or in her bed.

She never returned the messages and it worried him somewhat but then again, not at all. She was Jonna LaSal and she was a big girl…at least for the most part. She could also manage herself…at least for the most part. It made him furious at her when she did stupid stuff and then brushed them off. Like getting her tongue pierced and not checking out the piercer which gave her tetanus and then she was hospitalized for longer than he wanted.

He slipped a cigarette from his pocket and slid it in his mouth. He flicked his lightered and inhaled. It calmed him remarkably and he began to focus again. His intellectual thinking with quick thoughts and a slow reaction time, as he found himself slamming roughly with a woman holding shopping bags was beginning to get the best of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He mumbled and he began to retrieve her things from all over the ground. She looked up and he could swear she had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. She smiled underneath her sun hat even though there was a beautiful sunset down near the beach area. The rain was now a small drizzle as the clouds had begun to fade and the sky was a brilliant pink.

“I’m Evelyn.” She said flashing her teeth that were pearly white. She was rich, he could clearly tell.

“I’m A.J.” he said offering her a hand after he placed all the things that had once been on the ground into the shopping bags. She accepted it and he pulled her up gently. She took the bags all the while starring into his eyes. Her thumb signaled to a café across the street.

“There’s Starbucks across the street…if you’re not going anywhere.” She suggested. He watched as her blonde curls bounced with a slight turn and tilt of her head. He love her button nose and full lips with her big blue eyes that were more intense than capped ocean waves. There was something innocent and naïve about her that he caught onto. It was like she was new to the real world. Like there in their meeting for only a minute, she was just being let go by her parents. Something weird at least close to it.

“Yea, yea, I have nothing to do.” He said staring at her almost awestruck. She was so beautiful, like a model. She grinned noticing the attention. She began across the street and he followed. They entered Starbucks and she ordered a Mocha Frappaciño. He just got the same and a cookie. They sat at a table and she began to eat the Mocha instead of drink it with a spoon. He raised an eyebrow and she laughed.

“I know it’s weird but I eat it with a spoon. I have sensitive teeth.” She smiled brightly. He chuckled lightly. “So tell me about yourself.” She began.

“Well, my name is Alexander I bestow upon you the honor of calling me A.J.” he said and she laughed. “I’m twenty-four and I’m an aspiring musician and photographer. I don’t work for anybody but I sell my art commercially and that’s how I live.”

“Does it feel like you’re on the edge?” she asked grinning dangerously at him. He laughed rubbing his lip.

“Kind of. You’re living off your work so I guess it would be.”

“That’s hot.” She giggled. He smiled still hypnotized by her eyes.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m a rich, spoiled brat who just turned nineteen. I hope you don’t think I’m too young because baby,” she said flashing three fifty dollar bills, I can take care of myself.” He laughed.

“Alrightly then.” He responded. The smile faded from her face and her brow creased. “What?”

“She keeps starring at me.”

He turned and saw Jon. He looked her directly in the eyes and she disappeared around the frame of the building. She reappeared walking into the café. She sat down in a chair slamming her guitar on the table knocking the mocha onto the nineteen year old’s lap.

“Why did you leave forty messages on my answering service.”

“Forty seven to be approximate.” He shot knowing her game of chase the potential girlfriend away.

“Thanks for the math but I don’t care.”

“You know, that stunt you pulled up on the stage, it wasn’t very cute Jonna.”

“Shut up Alexander. It was a stunt, I was singing for real. It was from my heart.”

“You know, damn it. Why would you want to go out with a gay guy?” he asked sharply. His patience was wearing thin and the girl had stormed to the bathroom.

“I was drunk Alex.” She said emphasizing the words drunk heavily leaning across the table, “I was thinking straight but me confessing my love was real. It was from here.” She said signaling to the left side of her chest.

“Just give it a try damn it. You judge too fast.”

“You’re too clingy Jon. You’re not my type. There, I said it okay. I didn’t want to hurt you but you asked for it. I’m tired of being the damn gentlemen. ”

“You never even acted like a gentleman.”

“And yet you put up with me.” He leaned his back against the seat.

“What now, you’re gonna go fuck with this Barbie doll.”

“That’s it bitch. We’re going outside. You mad because he doesn’t want you anymore.” Jonna popped up from the chair and she turned quickly. Alex slid himself and took her punch to the jaw. He looked at her brown eyes. They had softened and her mouth hung open. He slowly raised his hand to his jaw and rubbed it gently while glaring deeply at her.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “It wasn’t meant for you Alex.” She said loudly.

“It shouldn’ of ‘en meant fer anyone Jonna.” He growled back. She looked at the floor and turned away from him. She picked up her guitar and swung it over her shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll leave.” She said softly and she walked out quickly.

Three
He saw her from inside the library. She was so striking as she strumming her guitar he nearly dropped his books. He gave the librarian his card and watched as she readjusted herself away from the middle of the steps. She sat there like she had all the time in the world watching nothing. She starred at the ground and he liked the way her brown hair moved when she let her head fall to watch her fingers glide across the strings. He decided there, he’d go out and find more about her. It had been nearly a year since a relationship had worked for him. This would be an excellent time to break his own record.

He walked outside to hear her strumming Vanessa Carlton. He could remember the song but not the name.

“It’s alright, and I put myself in his hands and I hold onto his secrets. Love, something ignites in my veins,. And I pray it never fades. In white houses.” She stopped and looked up at him.

“Oh I didn’t want you to stop, it was beautiful.”

She smiled widely.

“The guitar or my voice?” she asked with humor in her voice. He could spot a hint of a French accent.

“Are you visiting?” he asked. “They might arrest you for sitting on the steps in front of the library. They just might, I’m concerned.” He laughed. She laughed.

“No I’m not visiting and yes, unfortunately I’m French. You Americans are very rude with your jokes about us surrendering a lot.”

“Well miss…” he trailed off expecting her name.

“Jonna, Jonna LaSal.”

“Well, Miss LaSal, I apologize on behalf of the American people.”

“You’re very cute Mr…”

“Call me Alex. Or you can call me A.J.”

“A.J. is sexier.” She said twisting her face in a cat like manner.

“You need help up?” he asked extending his hand.

“I’m quite capable.” She said standing.

“You speak good English. Probably better than mine.” She laughed. “I wish. Now give me your number A.J.”


“A.J.” she said softly.

He held the phone to his ear annoyingly. “Hello?” he asked. He was cleaning his apartment which was in shambles for the last few rent parties that he had not cleaned up afterwards. He had seen his share of spiders and a flood of cockroaches in his friend’s apartment below had prompted an immediate exit and his apartment an immediate clean-up.

“A.J.” she said a little louder. He recognized the voice. It was Jonna. She sounded so small and helpless. He may have hated her recent ways to make him feel guilty but he still cared for her.

“Help me.” She sobbed, “I don’t want to die.”

“Jonna, what the hell?” he shot and she cried loudly. “Where-” he paused. “I’m coming Jonna.” There was only one place she was if she had called from home.

”Pretty Jonna, why do I have to give you my number? Why can’t you give me your number?” he cooed at her. She laughed as they walked down the street to a nearby restaurant. He carried her guitar by the strap. It was an old, wooden guitar worn with heavy age and it’s strap was the newest addition to the tired instrument.

“Because handsome boy, why does it rain?”

“Uh…” he trailed off thinking hard. “It’s that “e” word. I learned it in middle school or something.” She laughed as he still thought hard.

“Evaporation.”

“Yes!” he yelled and she laughed loudly throwing her head back. She was so beautiful. Her short brown hair flowed with her movements and her bangs hung just above her dark brown eyes. “Evaporation. The water from the ocean and stuff like that float up into the sky and then clouds are formed and then the cloud decided it’s gotta pee.”

“That’s disgusting.” She grinned pushing him playfully.

“Jonna!” he said unlocking the door with the key she had given him two weeks after they had met. He ran in the room. There was so much blood, so much blood. He dropped down to his knees by her side. She starred at him through fading eyes.

He didn’t notice the smashed pictures or the holes in the walls. He didn’t notice the broken vase or the hanging light bulb from her shattered lamp. He didn’t notice the Jack Daniel bottles here and there. He didn’t see her mirror in pieces on the floor that had sliced into the blue carpet covering the floor. He didn’t see the razor that had been unintentionally pushed under her couch or the bloody hand print that streaked off of her couch.

“I-I-I…”

“Shh…” he said as he dialed 9-1-1.

“No.” she whispered, “I want to die.” She had pushed those words out. He ignored her.

“Hello 9-1-1, what is your emergency.”

“Yes, yes. Uh I just found my friend. She, I don’t know what happened. I think she tried to kill herself. You need to hurry up.”

“Yes, is she conscious?” the operator asked as he grabbed the roll of paper towel from the wall, and ran into the living room.

“Jonna!” he yelled and her eyes blinked open. He began to wrap her wrist in paper towel tightly. “Yes, yeah she is.”

“Where are you?”

“At her house, 2735 Carlton Avenue.” He answered quickly. He began to wrap her left arm.

She winced as he wrapped the paper towel tightly around her arm.

“Someone is on the way. Do you want me to stay on?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I can pay for it.” He said putting a $50 down on the bill.

“That is really not necessary.” She said smiling as she rummaged through her wallet.

“Come on. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?” he asked raising his eyebrow at her.

“I don’t need a man to take care of me.” She smiled at him.

“I don’t need a man to take care of me.” Jonna pushed from her throat as paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. He climbed in looking at her.

She didn’t need a man, she needed a savior.

Four

“I don’t know.” She replied softly. She didn’t even look at him. She was so ashamed. She felt so naked and exposed. Her skin was no longer thick and beautiful like it had been to him. It was broken and rough covered in bruises and scars. She knew he didn’t know much about her family in France, but he did know one thing. They weren’t her favorite people in the world. They weren’t even close.

“It’s a simple question Jonna, was this for me.”

“No.” she answered softly turning her head away. It had really been a normal day. She went to work looking and calling places where she could have a gig and then she went to work at the small café right around the corner from her tight apartment. By the end of that day, she had felt lonely and two bottles of Jack Daniels had only increased this feeling. The angst had come in emotional waves, one after the other. First it had been her apartment. It was in shambles. She had thrown glass, smashed pictures, splintered her hand from punching holes into her wall and she had done the unthinkable, she destroyed her guitar. After she had starred down at the once beautiful guitar of red velvet that was now a mess of wood and strings, she collapsed. The razor had been still sitting on the table from when she last used it which was to shave her legs.

“Then why did you do it?”

Her response was so soft he didn’t hear it.

“What?” It was a gentle ‘what’. One of deep compassion. One of caring. He really did care for her, it was just her lack of self respect that cut him down to his bones.

“Go away.” She said louder pulling the blanket to her chin. Her wrists were throbbing. She demanded she didn’t want medicine to make her drowsy. She wanted the medicine now but then it would have seemed as if she was as unstable as an unstable suicidal person could be.

‘I knew he’d save me,’ she thought trying to comfort herself, ‘He had to.’ She was stable, she was just bored. It was a comforting thing to her but she knew how that looked to an average sane person. The impression wasn’t very good either.

She had starred at it hard, for several minutes. An hour had actually passed before she just ripped it from the table and dug it deep into her skin cutting hard. She didn’t bother to gasp, she just drank the pain and did the same to her right wrist. She finally took a swig of Jack Daniels and started to cry again. She decided to call A.J. and plead for her life. It had worked. She had gotten his attention. Now she just needed a way to keep it.

‘I’m not a psycho,’ she thought, ‘I’m just unnaturally clingy because of my past.’

“I’m not going away until you tell me what the hell is going on.” He growled at her. He stormed around the bed and looked straight into her eyes.

“Go away!” she hissed. The thought of slitting her own throat had come into her head but she felt it too gruesome. ‘Besides, when A.J. would rescue me, I might not be able to speak ever again or my singing voice would be ruined.’ She remembered than thought and buried her face into the pillow. Would it still matter? Her guitar was a heap of trash now, wood and strings and a strap to carry it by.

“I love you Jonna LaSal, is that what you want me to say? I love you?” he said this in the coldest manner he could possibly come out with. She closed her eyes quickly swallowing hard.

‘Why is he doing this?’ she thought. She wasn’t about to cry. You couldn’t say she felt much emotion; there really wasn’t any to be felt. She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She felt something weird, something new. It was as if she felt sorry for trying to take her life. She didn’t really want to die then. It was a rush of emotion, a day of loneliness and two bottles of Jack Daniels.

“I’m sleepy.” She whispered. He inhaled sharply.

“Fuck you.” He growled and he was gone.

~

He took another swig of his whiskey and swallowed it hard. It was harsh rushing down his throat quickly. It was more forced. It had taken him close to two hours for him to calm his nerves. Two shots and three cigarettes had done the trick. She had royally pissed him off. He tried to care, he tried to be gentle and keep his space but this girl wouldn’t budge. He was thoroughly worried for her. Two weeks ago, he never had to worry about her cutting her wrists and now she was on the verge of self-destruction. It was frustrating for him to watch but during the times of the arguments, those weren’t the feelings she saw. They were anger and annoyance. He knew she hadn’t had a great life, but he realized neither had he and he was doing the best he could. But his heart, his oh so soft heart that had been the downfall of him before had given into her excuses. He didn’t know whether it was the fact that he was weakened by the other sex or whether he felt somehow strangely intimidated with her “fierce” determination to find love with him and only him. He had once been attracted, he’d admit to anyone but her, but his attraction fell when she let him deeper inside. He tried to avoid this hostile side of her but he couldn’t seem to get past it.