Nails biting into my arm, she led me over to a circle of chairs where a variety of characters had already taken a seat. Mandy sat us down in two of the empty chairs and nodded to a woman across the way.
The woman brushed her strawberry blonde braid over her shoulder and smiled, the freckles on her face making me have a serious urge to play connect the dots. Smoothing her hands over her jeans and too nice of a shirt for this meeting, I knew immediately what she was. “Thank you all for coming. My name is Rosalie, and this is our Imaginary Friends Support Group.”
Fuck me.
I glared over at Mandy who kept her eyes forward. She shifted in her seat, proving my laser death eyes were affecting her. That’s right, bitch, squirm.
During my internal monologue, Rosalie kept talking, recapping on previous meetings. Watching her, I bet fifty bucks that her name ended with Ph.D. I’d dealt with my fair share of therapists, and if Rosalie wasn’t one, I’d eat my underwear.
“We have a visitor today,” Rosalie announced, and everyone looked around, me included until her gaze fell on me. Shit. “Please, stand and tell us what brings you here today.” She gestured at me as if she could use the Force to make me stand.
Gritting my teeth, I had every intention of staying put just to spite Mandy, but then the sneaky whore reached out lightning fast and pinched me.
“Ow!” I cried out, jumping to my feet. Spinning around, I realized I’d done exactly what I had planned not to do.
Now everyone’s eyes were on me like some alien life form of conjoined eyeballs and faces. The sudden imagery of the big blob of a person made me shudder. Talk about too many butt holes.
“Go ahead. Start with your name.” Rosalie’s soothing voice only made me want to punch her in the vagina. I bet she practiced that voice at home.
“Hi,” I started, pausing for a moment to clear my throat, my hands twisting in front of me. “My name's Jane and I …” I glanced down at my soon-to-be ex-best friend Mandy. The traitor gave me an encouraging nod, and I sighed. Turning back to the room, I gritted out, “I have imaginary friends.”
Imaginary, my Aunt Fanny. Just because no one else could see the angels didn’t mean they were in my head. Mandy knew they weren’t either. So, either she was doing this because she thinks in some twisted way it will help, or she was trying to pay me back for something. What that was, I couldn’t put my finger on. I’ve done plenty of things warranting payback, but who's keeping count?
Mandy, apparently.
A chorus of greetings answered my introduction. Each and every one of them had an eager look on their face as if they were happy to see someone else was as fucked up as they were. Rosalie, the self-proclaimed leader of this bundle of fun, smiled at me like she wasn't already analyzing every word I say.
“Jane,” Rosalie shifted closer to the edge of her chair, her hands clasped in front of her. “Why don't you tell us about your friends? What do you think made them first appear?”
“My friends?” I cocked my head to the side as I tried to figure out how to explain my guys. They would be irate to be called just friends. I shot a grin at Mandy, and she tensed, no doubt knowing I was up to no good.
“Well, first off I wouldn't really call them imaginary. They're angels. Like literal angels. Though, they don’t have wings. I just assumed that part was something man added. Though I guess I could probably ask them about that, I never really got around to it.”
The raised brows and general murmurs around the group told me I was the first to make such a claim. Great. The crazies thought I was crazy. Might as well milk it for all it's worth.
“Also,” I kept going, knowing I had the room’s full attention. “I wouldn't call them just friends. Maybe friends with benefits. Or maybe even boink buddies. Though, that doesn't seem exactly right either.” I tapped my chin with a finger, pretending to think of a better word.
“Wait a second,” a guy with a receding hairline and glasses thick enough to be bulletproof held his hand up. “You actually have sex with them? With angels?”
“Of course, she doesn't.” A woman sitting next to him shook her head. She had mousy brown hair tied tightly on the top of her head.
“Oh yes, I do,” I assured her with a shit-eating grin. Actually, I hadn’t, not yet, but they didn’t know that. “Let me tell you, they may be angels, but they know their way around the bedroom.” I circled my finger in the air. Each of them seemed to lean closer, on the edge of their seats. I hadn’t had this much attention since I had been caught making out with Jimmy Blake behind the common area at summer camp.
Overwhelmed with glee, I leaned in as if I were telling a secret, “Like Michael, he has such a filthy mouth, he could get me off just by talking.” I fanned myself with my hand, earning me a mixture of curious and horrified expressions.
Dear God, don’t let the guys show up now. Talk about embarrassing.
“She's just messing with us.” The woman from before glared at me with a sense of self-righteousness. Funny for someone who was currently sitting in group therapy.
I made a cross over my chest with a smirk. “Swear to God.” Really, God had nothing to do with it. He'd probably actually smite me for tainting his precious angels. Though, I had a feeling that happened way before I ever got there.
“So, about these angels." Mr. Receding hairline seemed even more eager than before to hear my story. "There's more than one?"
“Oh yeah.” I nodded vigorously, more than happy to indulge him.
Mandy, on the other hand, did not find me as interesting. She grappled with my hand trying to get me to sit down, but I ignored her. Take that, traitor.
Thinking about my guys always made me hot and bothered, being in a room full of people didn't change that. So, the breathlessness in my voice with my next words wasn’t even faked. "For example, Gabriel is wicked hot with his mouth and don't even get me started on Lucifer. I can see why he was kicked out of Heaven. That guy would make any celestial being jealous.”
Mandy jumped to her feet. Her hands still gripped tight to my arm, she almost ripped it off as she tried to drag me out of the room.
“I’m really sorry about her. She’s off her meds,” Mandy apologized, her eyes going to Rosalie who had a curious look on her face.
Therapists. Tell them you see angels and they wanted to write a book about it.
Mandy might be almost a foot taller than me, but I was scrappy. I could hold my own when needed. Wiggling out of her grasp, I held my hands out in front of me with a loopy grin. “I'm talking huge!”
A chorus of gasps responded, but before I could give them an encore, Mandy grabbed the back of my shirt and jerked me out of the room.
Party pooper.
11
My face hurt from smiling so hard. Even Mandy’s incessant tapping of her foot couldn’t get me down.
“You are unbelievable, you know that?” Mandy scowled at me, but I could see the smile threatening to break out across her face. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as we waited for the group in the room next to us to finish.
Not at all apologetic, I shrugged. “Pretty sure they believed me.”
Mandy sighed. “You couldn’t be serious for five minutes? Those people could have really helped you.”
I snorted. “Do what? Start a collection of animal heads? No thanks.”
“That makes no sense.” Mandy shook her head. “They are just people. Regular people who have some problems. Like you.”
“No,” I snapped, taking a step toward her. “They aren’t like me. They are randos who have insecurities they use imaginary friends to deal with. I see angels. Real, living, breathing angels. Just because your brain is not wired to see them doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”
As if things weren’t bad enough, not one, not two, but all three of my angels showed up in the tiny hallway. The three hulking angels filled the space around me, their auras buzzing off them and, even in my anger, caused fun tingles between my thighs.