If- Nina G. Jones Page 0,22

couldn’t allow myself to be switched on. So when it became too much, when Jordan and Trevor were no longer there to distract me, when I understood the true potential of her effect on me, I realized I had to leave right away. Because where this was heading was dangerous and uncharted.

Art was always the center of my fixation, but she was living art, and I feared that, somehow, she could get caught up in my storm.

So I found my way back to my brother’s house, returned the clothes I had borrowed, and made my way back out onto the solitude of the streets. He offered for me to stay in the guest house like he always did, but I could feel his wife’s dismay just as clearly as if she had begged me not stay. I considered caving since it was a holiday and that would be the good thing to do, but I didn’t even like facing my brother for long. He is the best brother in the world, but facing anyone in my family reminded me how much I had failed everyone.

I did take the flip phone he got for me, though. Mill begged me. Said he just wanted a way to reach me. I didn’t think that was too crazy of a request.

I was good for two weeks. I occupied my days wandering. Trying to distract myself from the visions that came to me, beckoning me to paint. Since meeting her, that had become harder and harder. But I couldn’t do both. I couldn’t paint with vigor and keep my sanity. Once the floodgates opened, nothing could stop the thunderous destructive waves.

At night, I would go to a new spot, one where I knew she wouldn’t see me. I wanted to make sure she was safe. 5th was no place for a pretty girl like her to be walking alone a night. But she didn’t show as often, and when she did, she was always with Jordan. Good.

This I could maintain—the way things were before she saved me. I was angry when she did that. She put herself at enormous risk, and I wasn’t worth it. But, at the same time, it proved to me that she was everything I thought she was: brave, kindhearted, even fiery. My senses never lied to me.

Then one night, I spotted her coming home with Jordan, their hands full of bags. I recognized the logo, the familiar box under her arm. She was carrying art supplies. She might as well have held a vial of crack under a junkie’s nose. Was that for her? Was she taking up painting or drawing? There was so much I could teach her. I had so much inside of me that I had been burying.

Because I was afraid to become that person again.

BIRD

It was Friday, and I was looking forward to having a rare weekend off. I just had a class in the morning, for the little ‘uns as I liked to call them, and then a short early afternoon shift at the restaurant. Jordan’s show was this weekend and I made sure that my schedule was completely clear for the festivities.

The weather was beautiful. The sky was perfectly blue, with just a few clouds dotting it. There was a nice cool breeze, enough to allow for a light sweater. Yet, while the sky above looked pristine, I was soon inhaling the odors of Skid Row that were picked up by the lovely breeze: piss that never washed away (thanks to LA’s perfect weather), body odor, and garbage.

The art supplies I had purchased for Ash were still in their bags on the floor of my apartment. I had resigned myself to the fact I would be returning them next week as it was getting closer to the thirty-day mark.

Apparently, Jordan was wrong. Ash didn’t want my help. He wasn’t giving me some secret signal, or playing mind games. He just didn’t want to be my charity case.

But of course, just as he always had a knack for doing, when I least expected him, there he was, in his old spot. I stopped in my tracks. This time, instead of pretending not to see me, he pushed himself away from the wall where he leaned, and looked right at me.

“Ash . . .” my voice drifted in disbelief. “Hey. I thought you had vanished on me.”

“I was just taking a break from here.”

“Why would you ever want to do that?” I asked sarcastically. I wondered