Chapter 12

One is Not Like the Other

December 23, 1978

Saturday

1 Timothy 6:10 |*

For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.

Parents suck.

Instead of waking up to an early morning breakfast and any finishing last minute holiday shopping Vanessa Greenhill in her now wrinkled formal dress was walking down the cold and long corridor of the upper floors of the Preston Academy in New York City with the housemother who looked older than her thirty-six years.

Gloria Jenkins couldn't even have the winter vacation off, because not only was their one girl here with overly entitled parents, now there were two.

Didn't she have the right to a holiday break?

"You will be in Room 333. Listen, Victoria…"

"My name is Vanessa."

Whatever.

"I have to make some telephone calls, so you can introduce yourself to your new roommate, her name is Hannah Montgomery."

Vanessa thought it was way too early in the morning, how did the housemother know this roommate would even be up?

She knocked on the door, but no one answered, so she took it upon herself to open it.

There was teenage girl sitting up on her unmade bed listening to the stereo, tapping her socked feet on her blankets, with big black headphones on. She had a short dark hair in a pixie cut and Vanessa was immediately drawn to her black nail polish. She really did not want to make new friends.

She just wanted to be with Mark and she hoped that he was all right. Vanessa bought a gray suitcase in the airport gift shop; it only contained a pair of blue pajamas and her white coat. The only clothes she had was her now-out-of-place formal dress and Mark's black coat. Somewhere along the way between Chicago and New York she lost her corsage.

Hannah took off her headphones.

Who was this disheveled Cinderella who just burst into her dorm room uninvited and unannounced?

"And you are?"

She seemed as charming as Damien. Why was everything a damn constant test?

"Vanessa Greenhill. I'm your new roommate. Believe me I DO NOT want to be here. I just want to go to bed."

"You seem a little overdressed for the premises, chickie."

"Fuck you." Vanessa was shocked that she cursed at this stranger, she covered her mouth as if she could take the words back, "I'm so-rry." She sat on her bed and cried. How she needed to sob to try and get the hurt and disappointment out of her system.

Great. She was one those little flower types. She wasn't going to last five minutes in this school when the other girls came back after the holidays.

Hannah walked over to Vanessa's bed and sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder to indicate that 'everything would be all right'.

"Let's start over. I'm Hannah Montgomery. The fact that you are arriving here before the holidays mean that your parents are awful." That's when she noticed Vanessa's cross necklace. Great. Put the Atheist with the Christian.

Hannah handed Vanessa a few tissues from the green box that was decorated with one big white snowflake.

"I'm sorry for cursing at you. I'm Vanessa Greenhill." She wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It's okay. Hi, Vanessa. I'll help you unpack."

"There is nothing in my suitcase, but a pair of pajamas and my coat."

"Do you always dress formal for the occasion?" She smiled begrudgingly, this kid was going to need someone in her corner, "That coat is big and masculine on you – I think I understand…your parents disapprove of your boyfriend and think that separating the two of you is a good idea?" Hannah noticed the boyfriend's watch too. It was almost like a bangle bracelet on Vanessa's thin wrist.

"Yes. So If I was going to attend this stupid school, I stole my mother's credit card and ran out of the car and just kept on going and going, so I could see Mark and say a proper goodbye. The reason for the dress is there was a winter formal dance last night. I have no clothes. I guess I can go shopping, unless my mother cancelled my access to use her card." Vanessa wanted to get out of her shoes so bad. Her feet were killing her.

"We might be the same size," Hannah went to her dresser and took out what looked like a black t-shirt and jeans, "I have a feeling this is not going to be your style."

Vanessa held the t-shirt up, "Are the Ramones a band?"

Hannah laughed with her, but NOT at her. This girl was squarer than square.

"Yes. You might want to wear it inside out. We have free time until eight o'clock at night. Even though the school is closed, it supposedly makes Jenkins' life easier. Take a nap, we'll find some clothes for you and even if your mother's card won't work anymore, I'll buy."

"Why would you do that? You don't even know me."

"I know enough. You deserve a break, kid. I'm going back to my music. We'll stop for breakfast first."

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. At least her roommate was nice.

She hoped that Mark was okay. She wanted him to hold her and so she could feel taken care of. There was one thing she knew for certain and that was he was NOT sharing a room with anyone good.

Damien was an asshole, who probably loved the fact that she and Mark were apart.


Damien and Mark's Room

Mark was tired but couldn't sleep. Damien, on the other hand, was sleeping soundly, which made Mark want to grab the clock off his end table and throw it at his head.

How come he didn't get in any trouble? How come he NEVER got into any real trouble?

"DAMIEN! WAKE UP!"

Damien yawned as he turned over in his bed to face Mark. "Why are you yelling at me?"

"I don't think it's right that I got grounded for one month," Which was stupid considering he was going back to the military academy after the holiday break with no chance of seeing Vanessa in-between, "And no one noticed Christine was here after the dance?"

"Mark, here are two tips for you. Don't get caught and don't snitch on others who know what they are doing."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Damien."

"I think I'll get dressed and go outside for a walk before breakfast – it's cold out, but it's still a nice day."

Damn. Talk about kicking a man when he was down.

"I think that's a good idea." Mark put the covers over his head. He would try to fall asleep.

He missed Vanessa so much and hoped that she arrived in New York safely. He just wanted to hold her in his arms.


Department store after breakfast

"You probably hate stores like this." Vanessa said to Hannah while they were in the Junior Miss department with its racks of trendy clothes of the day.

Vanessa did take Hannah's advice to wear her band t-shirt inside out. Yet, there was a part of her that thought she could totally reinvent herself here and no one would be the wiser. She could cut off her hair and cake on the make-up and dress in revealing clothes, like an actor, wearing different outfits for their part. But she never wanted to be someone she wasn't.

While it was true that Hannah liked to get her clothes at vintage shops and the Salvation Army, she wasn't going to tell Vanessa that.

"Don't worry about it. Do my sneakers fit?" They were black lo-top Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars.

"Yeah." They were a bit big, but she didn't want to hurt Hannah's feelings.

"Now, you'll probably get our stupid uniform when break is over. There is no laundry service until school starts again. I'll let you pick out your clothes. I'm going to the vintage record store across the street; we can meet there when you're done."

Vanessa couldn't believe how gracious Hannah was and that was a good reminder that looks do not make a person. She had to work to stop judging others. That was God's job not hers. Except for Damien, she really couldn't stand him.

She wasn't really in the mood for shopping. She was just going to have to buy clothes and shoes because she needed them.

It was then that she wished she were poor. It was the money that gave her parents the means to separate her and Mark. Why? Because they were in love with each other, wanted to save themselves until marriage, and believed in a higher power? That was some messed up thinking, while they were do-gooders for various charities and projects, but they treated their daughter like she couldn't make her own decisions.

"May I help you, Miss?"

Vanessa looked at the older woman of about fifty-five, who had dark hair with gray flecks. She was wearing those pointed bifocals that were hanging from the bridge of her nose and attached to a pink and purple beaded chain so they wouldn't fall to the tiled floor. She was carrying a bunch of velvet clothes hangers. The name tag clipped to her blouse identified her as 'Marge'.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be getting a school uniform, but I need regular clothes."

"Why don't tell you me what you like and we'll see if your size is available?"

"Okay." She tried to smile in spite of her situation.


Damien and Mark's Room

Even with Damien gone, Mark could still not sleep. He sat at his desk to write Vanessa a letter. He would somehow have to get the address to the Preston Academy.

Dear Vanessa,

I miss you.

Mark tore the paper from the lined yellow pad, crumpled it up, and threw it in the wastebasket.

Dear Vanessa,

I'm sorry that your parents are…

Nope. He tried again, this time the ball of paper landed on the floor.

Dear Vanessa,

I love and miss you so much. I'm sorry that your parents are such jerks. I still don't know what we did wrong except miss curfew. My father grounded me for a month for last night. It really doesn't make any sense, since we are already apart.

"This came for you."

Fuck. Mark instinctively put his binder on top of the letter and turned around in his chair. Damien was holding a cardboard box and placed it on his cousin's bed.

"Thanks."

"Did you buy a present for Vanessa?"

"Yes. You can go now, Damien."

Damien knew these were patience tests, but still Mark had quite a lot of nerve to tell him that he couldn't be in his own room.

"This is also my space."

"Fine." Mark did not want Damien to see what he bought for Vanessa.

He wanted his girlfriend to have something to open for Christmas because he gave her his mother's necklace early. Now she was gone and he'd never be able to get this to her in New York in time.

"You can open it." Damien handed Mark the scissors from his desk handle side up.

"I'd rather wait."

"If you don't open this because I'm here, that really is not my problem." Damien went to stretch out on his bed, for no other reason than to prove he could.

"Damien, you don't know what it is like to REALLY LOVE someone else. Vanessa's parents did a real shitty thing to her. I don't expect you to understand."

"Right. Because according to you, I only love myself."

"So are you going to tell me that you love Christine? She has been your go-to lately, but I know you don't love her at all."

"You don't have to love someone to be with them."

Mark used the scissors as a box cutter and went across the strip of packing tape.

"No, you don't, Damien. It just makes for an empty existence."

Damien thought it was a good thing that Mark did not know about his true origins yet.

Mark was suddenly the expert on love? Just because Vanessa dangled sex in front of him like a carrot to a hungry rabbit? Who could only wait for marriage because their God told them so?

It took every fiber of his being to not force himself on his cousin. He was cognizant enough to know this was not the time and Damien really didn't want to will Mark to do anything. He only wanted him to look deep inside his person and come to those conclusions himself, when the time was right.

Mark opened up the parcel to take out the other box that was inside as Damien intently watched.


Outside the Indie Record Store

NYC

Vanessa met up with Hannah, she had two full shopping bags and Hannah had one square shaped brown paper one, which contained a used but good copy of Patti Smith's Horses.

"Are we going back to school?" Vanessa was still tired and wanted to put her head on a soft pillow to take a nap.

"I was hoping that we'd go out to Rizzo's for a milkshake."

"It's December and freezing."

"And we'll be inside. I promised Keith, my boyfriend, I'd buy him this album so he could learn the drum parts. Rox might be there too."

"Who is Rox?"

"Roxanne. She's goes to a school in New Jersey in a place that's just like Preston in a place that's just like yours in Illinois. She plays bass."

"I don't know. I don't know those people and we barely know each other, Hannah. You've been so kind to me and I really don't deserve it. What can I offer you guys? Under different circumstances you'd probably all make fun of me. I'd rather just go back to the school."

Hannah took Vanessa's white cotton gloved hand in hers. "That's not true. I know enough. You deserve friends. Is it just you and your boyfriend?"

"Mark seems to have more friends than I do. It's different with guys. Girls are just catty and mean. It never stops."

"Keith and Rox are cool. I would not have asked you join us, Vanessa, if I didn't want to. Besides, everybody loves a shake. What's your favorite flavor?"

Vanessa blushed; it seemed too typical, too corny, so white bread. Now she was back to her self-doubt and she wondered again, what could Mark possibly see in her?

"Vanilla."

"Nothing wrong with that. Everything mixes with vanilla. I like coffee with mocha chunks sprinkled on top."

Vanessa looked at the cracks in the sidewalk and then at Hannah. "Okay. Sure."

If Hannah wanted to invite her to meet her boyfriend and her friend over a simple milkshake, why was that a bad thing?

It would be nice to have friends, even if they were just casual ones.

Jesus, Mark, and a few friends by her side were all that she needed, until she and Mark had children of their own someday.


Damien and Mark's Room

When it was obvious that Damien wasn't going to leave until Mark opened up Vanessa's present in front of him. He did it quickly the way a mother would remove a bandage from a squirming child.

"I wish I could get this to her before Christmas."

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Damien got in for a closer look.

Didn't Vanessa already have one of these stupid fluffy white stuffed animals on her bed? Was she five-years-old?

It was a plush horse.

Mark didn't know where his patience came from, but he really wanted to take a swing at his cousin, but that didn't quite work out from the last time they had an escalated fight. No one would ever see his side. It just wasn't worth it to get into more trouble especially with the holiday being two days away.

Also whenever he was stressed he would get a massive migraine. Why bother fighting Damien? He'd never win and he had more important things to do.

"Now that you've seen it, you can go now, Damien."

"What's that around its neck?"

"A chain."

"Is Vanessa really worth all of this time and trouble?" Damien really had to know.

"Of course. But you have to LOVE someone besides yourself to understand the concept of LOVE in the first place," Mark sighed, maybe this would work, maybe not, but it was worth a try. "Why don't you read the Bible?"

Damien was astonished. Was Mark for real? Damien didn't know if he should feel insulted or find the whole thought amusing.

"Really?"

"I don't want to tell you how to live your life, but you might find some comfort in the Bible. You seem to lack a spiritual side, Damien."

Amusement. That's what Damien felt, because Mark had no Earthly idea on what he was rambling on about.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"I'm sorry if that upsets you, Damien. I know why this bothers you so and I never once brought it up…."

"Go ahead and speak your mind, Mark." Damien was too curious for him to stop in the middle of a sentence like that.

"You never want to talk about your parents. Your mother died when she fell out of a hospital window** and your father. How he tried to kill you in a church when you were little, causing the police to murder him to stop him from doing the same to you, because he snapped and went insane. All of this could make anyone reject their faith, but, you of all people should embrace the teachings of Christ. I probably sound like some kind of holy-roller and that's not my intent. I do love you, Damien, even though you drive me crazy."

He wasn't about to hug him or share any other emotions. It seemed so anti-male, but if his cousin needed him, Mark would always be there. Maybe this talk would help him, and then all of the uncomfortableness would be worth it.

"You said your peace. I'm going outside."

"Are you mad at me, Damien?"

"No."

Mark tried to smile and decided to take a shower before getting dressed. When he closed the door behind him, Damien looked at the stuffed horse with its thin gold chain around its neck. A small script 'V' dangled from it.

YOU TWO CANNOT CO EXIST

"Shut up, Father." Damien whispered, "Just shut up."

Damien knew his disrespect would probably cause him to be punished later, but for now, he grabbed the invoice out from the packing materials and placed it on Mark's desk. He took a pen out of the plastic cup with the Chicago Cubs orange "C" logo on it and he proceeded to turn the receipt over to write on the back.

M,

This will be mailed to Vanessa.

Merry C –

Fuck no.

Damien would sooner have thrown himself into a pit of fire than write the word, so he changed it to

Merry Holidays,

D

He made sure the horse was put in the box and he took it with him before leaving the room. He would find Murray and whether by legal postal means or alternative measures the high-horse bitch would get her fucking steed, NOT because Mark loved her, but because Damien loved him.

Damien smiled brilliantly as he walked down the staircase carrying the package with the knowledge that he controlled all of their destinies in his hands.


*King James Version

**I'm giving Mark limited knowledge of Katherine Thorn's death.

Author's Note: I went through every chapter to do some much needed fan fic housecleaning.