“You didn’t teach me; my dad taught me.”
“I became your driving instructor after the first lesson when I realized Mr. Willis didn’t know what he was doing. I became him for your behind-the-wheel lessons.”
“What?” She looked shocked. “You put your hand on my leg and squeezed it during the last session. I thought he was a total perv.”
“I did not!”
“You did too!” She looked at me pointedly.
“Eyes on the road, Evey.”
When we got to the warehouse, I said, “I’ll just sit in here and be invisible.”
“Won’t you be bored?”
I laughed hysterically. “This is what I’ve always done, and yeah, it’s boring as fuck.”
“Come in with me. Meet Tracey for real. She’ll love you. You have a perfect body for design.”
I frowned. “I’m not letting her dress me up.”
“Then let me.”
We walked in through the large roll-up door. There were tables and material scraps everywhere, and in the corner was a huge roll of denim. Tracey was talking to another assistant, who scurried away when Evey and I came in.
“Who’s this beautiful man?” Tracey said while she stared me up and down.
“This is my boyfriend, Lucian.”
“He’s your boyfriend?” she asked with more shock than spite.
“Yes,” Evey said, “he’s my boyfriend.”
Tracey wasn’t unlike Brooklyn in that she would probably be forever single, but she didn’t want to be. That was the difference. She was aging fast, approaching her mid-forties, and still had no serious male prospects. Part of the reason was that she emasculated and objectified men in a really disgusting way, much like she was doing to me presently.
“Take off your shirt,” she said to me.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you shy or something? You got little boy chest under that tee?”
I was still me, okay? I couldn’t resist. I pulled off my T-shirt and threw it to the side. I had left my belt and boxers at Evey’s, so there wasn’t much material left to hide anything. I didn’t even bother pulling up my hanging jeans. They covered the important part.
“Jesus, lord,” Tracey said. People really needed to stop saying that. I was starting to get a complex. She looked at Evey. “He’s perfect. Perfect shoulder width, sculpted jaw and abs, narrow hips.” She turned to me. “How tall are you? What’s your inseam?”
“Six two. Maybe thirty-five inseam.”
Evey came over and whispered in my ear, “You’re eating this up.”
“I have a plan,” I whispered back. I knew which items Evey had designed, but to Tracey, it was my first time in the warehouse.
Tracey left and then came back over with a stack of jeans and some T-shirts. I really had no shame. When I dropped my jeans, Tracey and the assistant lurking behind her froze. They went slack-jawed.
Evey, standing next to me, looked over and said, “Really, Lucian?”
“Well, he’s definitely not shy.” Tracey approached Evey and said, “How’d you land him?”
I slipped on a pair of jeans that I knew Tracey had designed because they were hideous. I shook my head, pulled them off, and dug around for a pair that Evey had worked on. “These are perfect.”
“Evey, we have a photographer coming,” Tracey said as she ran to the phone. “I’m canceling the other model. Lucian, how do you feel about making an easy grand?”
“Why not? But I only want to be photographed in these jeans.” I pointed at Evey’s.
Tracey was a ball-buster. “Well then, I better keep the other model on. Your pay just went down to two hundred.”
“Fine by me,” I said, although I wondered how I was going to get money now that I had been cut off from Mona and the higher-ups. No, Lucian, you are not going to model Tracey’s jeans.
The photographer only took about four shots of me. I kept my head down as much as I could, wondering what would happen to the photograph after I was gone. Would it just go poof like the rest of me? Was that my fate?
After we were done, Evey pressed her warm hand to my cheek. Looking into my eyes, she said, “Thank you. She would have never photographed the other model in those jeans.” I smiled but suddenly felt too weak to talk. “Are you okay, Lucian? You look pale.”
“I need to eat. Low blood sugar.”
“Oh yeah, you have that crazy metabolism,” she said.
But the truth was that angels didn’t need to eat. We could eat and enjoyed eating, but nothing happened if we didn’t. I was feeling weak because I was getting sick or starving, something I had never experienced.
“Come on,” I said, “let’s go get lunch.”
“Tracey, is it all right if I do some sketches at home and take the rest of the day off?”
“Two days in a row, huh?” Tracey asked.
I think both Evey and I had forgotten she’d missed the day before.
“I’ll email you sketches tonight, I promise,” Evey said.
Tracey quirked an eyebrow at me. “As long as he’s the subject.”
I rolled my eyes.
Once in the car, Evey asked where I wanted to go to lunch and I told her anywhere, so we ended up at her favorite Japanese restaurant. I had spent many Saturday nights hovering in the corner while Brooklyn and Evey drank sake with one random imbecile or another.
I felt a tiny bit better after eating, and I had no idea why. Back at Evey’s apartment, Brooklyn was sitting on the couch when we walked in. She was still in college, on the ten-year plan. She spent most days on the couch, surrounded by a pile of books I knew she hadn’t read. Studying, she called it. Her parents pretty much supported her and probably would for the rest of her life.
“Hey guys,” she said. “Do we need to start charging you rent, Lucian?”
“He’s not feeling well, Brooke. He’s gonna go lie down for a bit in my room while I work on some sketches.”
“Oh, right, I’m sure that’s what you guys will be doing.”
“Shut up, Brooklyn,” I blurted.
She turned around to look at me. “What is your problem, weirdo?”
I kept forgetting that she had only just met me. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m really cranky.”
“Come on,” Evey said as she pulled me down the hall.
I WAS SKETCHING on the small drafting table in my bedroom while Lucian rested on the bed. My mind was somewhere else. I had spent an hour sketching and had nothing to show for it but a pile of crumbled up papers at my feet. I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was how strangely Lucian was acting. I had to remind myself that he was an angel and this was uncharted territory. I wondered at what point I would start to freak out. How was I so accepting of this reality?
I looked at him and noticed his eyes were closed. “Lucian?”
He didn’t move. When I sat on the edge of the bed, he stirred before opening his eyes. He blinked a few times and then opened his eyes very wide. “I just fell asleep,” he said, in shock.