Chapter 6

I hated myself for being there, but honestly, I wasn’t sure where else to go.

Therapy, a snide part of myself remarked, but I shook it off. Alex was a good person, understood things and made sure I never dropped off the edge. I was as scared of medication as I was of drugs and Alex was the only barrier between us. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to supply me and keep watch while I consumed it. Alex was trustworthy.

The door swung open and I could smell the smoke already.

“Aye, Lucifer!”

“Lilith,” I grumbled. “Why do you always forget?”

“When it hits that good”—She rolled the joint between her fingers—“you don’t need good memory.”

I forgot to mention that I had only ever attempted to do drugs once, but I chickened out and ran away. Alex had laughed about it for weeks. I rolled my eyes at her laugh, a deep rumble from her belly. If it wasn’t for her long, messy brown hair, she could’ve easily been mistaken for a teenage boy with that voice of hers.

But really, though, she had a terrible memory. Maybe I should just turn away now.

“Ahh, you’re chickening out again.” She smirked.

“Am not.”

“Come on in.” She swung the door wide open. “I made edibles.”

Knowing I’d cornered myself into this, I sighed and entered her place. It was beyond me why she made her space look like an acid trip: neon colors splashed onto the walls in spirals and zigzags, an assortment of indigenous masks decorated the only plain black wall, peculiar chandeliers (a little messy from the necklaces she’d throw at them), and bright bean bags and furry rugs. A warm hearth blazed in the corner of the room, and the mantel was loaded with snow globes. Alex’s place was the epitome of maximalism.

“Listen, before we start”—I grabbed her wrist—“I appreciate how highly you think of me and getting me clients, but you need to stop misinforming them. I’m not cupid.”

“Is this about Aubrey?”

“She’s completely changing the way I work now! She was fine until a few days ago.”

Alex snickered and plopped down onto a bean bag. “Look, I just wanted her off my back. Sorry to use you as a scapegoat. But you do catch vibes, though.”

“Patterns,” I grumbled and sat next to her on a cushion. “What have you got?”

“I’ve been making gummy bears,” she said and reached out for a jar full of jewel-toned jellies. I looked at it carefully as she held the jar in front of me with an encouraging gaze. “You know I’ll take care of you. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I glanced up at her with guilt in my heart, realizing I’d negated her position in my life a lot. She was always there whenever I broke down and tried something stupid. I’d always kept her at arm’s length without realizing how closely she held me to herself. Enough to make sure I’d never be successful in my bizarre attempts to end my life. I wasn’t like that anymore, of course, but it must’ve been exhausting for her. I felt like such a terrible person for always treating her as a mere acquaintance when she had acted as so much more.

“You deserve a little fun, Lilith.” She nudged my arm. “I don’t mind you crying, but it’s time you appreciated the good stuff that comes with life, too. Go on.”

Eyeing the jar of colorful little bears, I took a deep breath and moved before my anxiety could paralyze me. I popped a gleaming green jelly in my mouth and chewed on it. It tasted different, but not bad. It was still sweet.

And we sat there and talked, until thirty minutes later, it kicked in. A slight buzz that was…kind of nice. I expected to be dizzy, throwing up, or crying but this was nice. A warm feeling in my chest that made me realize things weren’t all that bad. I had Holly, Alex, and Marcus. I had a nice job and a pretty apartment I could only dream of at eighteen. I only had to work four days a week. Hell, I had my own company!

I took another gummy bear and popped it in my mouth, revelations from the universe and Mother Earth coming to me as I realized that I couldn’t be happy all the time but I couldn’t be sad forever, either. My life was like a rainbow sherbet from Baskin Robbins: sometimes weird and too sour but also pleasant at times.

The swirls and jagged lines on the walls started to pulsate lightly with a neon glow. I reached for another gummy, but my hand was smacked away.

“That’s enough for right now.” Alex chuckled, and so did I.

I laid back and stared up at the ceiling as bizarre as the walls, taking in the chandelier that seemingly broke apart and floated around gently. It was nice and peaceful. It was fun.

Alex’s phone rang and she picked it up immediately. “Jesus Christ, my man, it’s you! Yeah, I have your stash, come by. You’re almost here? Great.”

She hung up and I watched her rummaging around the table, searching for the package for her customer.

“You know, I should get going.”

“In this state?” She shook her head. “You’ll chase after the lights and walk straight into traffic. If you need to be home right now, then I’ll drive you.”

“I want to take a walk.”

“You can do that in your complex’s garden,” she suggested, finally finding a small square package and tossing it in her hands. The bell rang and she pulled me up to stand. “I’ll drop you off. Come on.”

I stretched my hands out to her and she grabbed them, pulling me up to stand, and my head spun slightly. I giggled and swayed, grabbing onto Alex’s biceps to step into my shoes properly. She reached out to open the door.

“You know, Alex,” I giggled, “if you ever wanna get married—”

“I’ll shoot myself in the leg before I ever agree to that.” She laughed and swung the door open. “Jesus!”

“John!”

“Cristo?” I gawked, suddenly sober. “Alex, do you know everyone in New York?”

“Only the best people.”

“And for the best stash.” Cristo grinned, handing Alex an envelope. “Thanks again for this. You did a lot on such short notice.”

“It’s nothing.”

They exchanged hands and bumped fists.

“I didn’t think you were the fun type, Lilith.” He smirked. “Is the stress finally getting to you?”

“None of your business.” I rolled my eyes.

“Huh. I bet it’s why your memory’s failing you these days?”

“Lay off her.” Alex chuckled. “I need to drop her home right now, so is there anything else you need?”

“Nah, this is all.”

Cristo cocked his head and studied me curiously. I only crossed my arms and looked away, feeling my face flush from the intoxication and his intense look.

“Wait.” He smirked again. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

“Cristo,” I shot back warningly.

Alex gave me an odd look and pushed at Cristo, urging him to leave. He seemed to understand her gaze and hurriedly turned to go.

“I gotta be somewhere real quick. See you next week! Nice meeting you, Lilith.”

No different from yesterday, he scurried off.

“Do I scare him?” I turned to Alex.

She gave me a dubious expression, as if unsure how to respond. “You tell me, Lucifer.” She shook her head and closed the door behind her, locking it and grabbing my arm to lead me away.

The next morning was strangely peaceful. I didn’t feel agitated, or down in the dumps, or stressed about the next hour. For the first time in my entire life, I wasn’t planning ahead or stuck in the past. I was focused on the present, and not only as a distraction.

Running my gaze over the files, I matched a potential partner to thirty-five-year-old Ibiza Prices, a furniture designer, and a major shareholder in many companies. His name was Maurice Grover, forty, a big part of the agriculture industry in Europe and sitting on loads of intergenerational wealth. I’d assessed him once myself at a premier for World War Z. The guy was obsessed with zombies and had a room with arcade games of House of Dead, all editions. Good dude.

I picked up my phone and shot her an e-mail, subsequently returning to my paperwork.

A knock came at the glass door of my office. I gestured for them to come in, still focused on reading the files.

“You’ve been invited to Barry Halls’ wedding. It’s next weekend,” Lyra, my assistant, announced. “He’s asked you to profile his younger sister and hopefully find her a match.”

“The girl’s a free spirit, Lyra.” I shook my head. “She’ll never settle, and she will definitely not agree to this.”

“He’s asking for a discreet service.”

“I’m not a spy.” I laughed. “Figure out if she doesn’t already know me before I make a fool of myself in front of her.”

“All right.”

I went back to work, entering data into my laptop quickly. It had only been a few seconds when she knocked again.

I gestured her in. “That was quick of you.” I said.

“Were you expecting me?”

I jumped at the familiar deep voice with a yelp, and the man fell back into the loveseat behind him in shock.

“Marcus!”

“You scare easily,” he breathed out with a hand to his heart. “And I mean that in all ways possible.”

“I would’ve appreciated a call!” I hissed, reaching up to fix my glasses hanging off an ear. He was wearing dark pants and a vest under his lab coat, holding a familiar paper bag in one hand. “Is that…coffee?”

“Uh, yeah…” He trailed off with a slight blush on his face. “I was on a break and thought that maybe I could drop by and say hi. Ask how you’re doing.”

I glanced at the clock, shocked at how time had flown and how much I’d gotten done without realizing.

“That’s nice of you.” I smiled and got up to sit next to him. He handed me my coffee, and we talked aimlessly about our days as I tried to ignore the sly looks my employees were sending me from outside my office.

“Is everything all right?” he said abruptly after a short silence.

“Yeah, it’s just…” I laughed lightly, “my employees. They, uhh, they’re placing bets right now.”

“Oh?”

“They’re too invested in my lack of a love life.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s such a mystery to them why I don’t date.”

“In all honesty, you’re a very mysterious woman.” He said this so seriously, I almost choked on my coffee.

Sputtering, I shook my head and chugged down a sip to clear my throat. “No, I’m not!”

“Really? What’s your major, then?”

“Genetics.”

He paused, genuinely surprised. “Are you serious?”

“It’s very important when assessing couples who plan on having children.”

“And that’s not supposed to surprise me?”

I thought on it, comparing myself to others in my mentorship. “Fair point.”

“How did you even end up in this industry?” He shook his head, seeming genuinely confused.

“It’s a funny story, really.” I laughed. “Halfway into my second year, I wrote a paper on how behaviors and personalities correlated to genes that could make it possible to create a system that predicts and identifies suitable matches, either emotional or reproductive. I then became obsessed with it and created said system with a team. Then word got around and some seniors came to help improve on it and tested it out. One of them wanted to test their compatibility with her husband and it was pretty low, which caused a fight. And then Mrs. Beaumont came up to me after saying that she’d predicted it well before my machine did. I’m not sure how I became so interested in what she did, but she gave me her number to call and…it just felt like the right thing to do. Probably because I saw the money it made and really needed it at the time.”

“But you’ve been doing this for quite a while,” he said. “You’re only thirty, right?”

“Yeah, I mentored under her while completing my studies. Had to leave one of my jobs and also take up summer courses to graduate early. Then I just became lucky to incorporate my studies that started all this into my business. It’s what helped with the popularity, or I would’ve crashed in the first few years without it. I paid off all my loans immediately and the rest is now mine.”

“You’ve worked very hard,” he said and sat quietly in contemplation. “My life was very comfortable and not as interesting. It feels like I haven’t accomplished much.”

“You’re a doctor that makes people more comfortable in their bodies.” I shrugged and took a light sip. “I think you’re doing an impressive job.”

“It feels like such a crime, though.” He sighed. “Living a comfortable life and having everything handed to me on a plate. I do give back as much as I can, but so many people struggle, and it turns them into such interesting personalities.”

“Trust me,” my voice fell grim, “only about half of them make it out alive with not much accomplished, and even lesser into a successfully comfortable life. Struggle isn’t…it isn’t…I don’t know how to say it. It isn’t beautiful. It’s hard and breaks you down really bad sometimes.”

“I think I might’ve romanticized it,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re a heck of a lot more self-aware than most people in your place,” I said. “Maybe if more people were as empathic and selfless, it would make living easier.”

“I get that.” He nodded, and we fell into a comfortable silence. It wasn’t long before it was time for him to leave. He walked out with a smile and a casual "see you later.” I masked my face in politeness, although internally attacked with memories of everything I had gone through to get where I was.

I would kill to be Marcus right now.