Chapter 24
Old Reruns
(But On A Better TV)
I remember a split second after I punch through the small square of glass that you are supposed to wrap cloth around it first. But I am so numb that I barely feel a thing. I staunch the flow of blood using one of the paper rolls from the battered pack I arrived with, leaving the remainder by the garage door.
I know they are out because I can't hear any arguments coming from upstairs. Not that I cared, but this was simpler without them interrupting me.
I don't know what led me here exactly. A sense of nostalgia from meeting faces from my past? Or the need to staunch another kind of bleeding.
My room is in the same mess I left it in all those months ago, more or less, though much of the floor space is now filled with boxes of stock for whatever new get rich scheme is in the works. I have to shift some packages off my stale, sour stinking bed to make room to sit. The air is thick with dust and memories that sting just enough to make me feel something.
Xander, like me, numbed his pain with distraction and jokes. He focused his mind on useless trivia about superheroes and memorizing movie dialog. He filled every space he could with childish things to keep the inner child safe. I have to thank him for that. It got me through. It kept me going.
Willow was always infantile, giddy and she filled my days with childhood glee and tender forgiveness for being immature. The Master's Harvest collected us both up, still silly children, unprepared for the world, let alone the world of shadows, and forced us to grow up fast. I can see now how it stretched us, cracking us in parts, into the shape of young adults, but inside we weren't at all.
Willow looks mature now, more a woman, and carries herself with her chin up, having found power in magic. But inside she still is still irresponsible, careless… a petulant, snatching child.
And what am I?
My outer coating has changed too, vastly so, but inside? I thought I was growing up, I thought I had grown up.
Puberty made me obsessed with girls, but didn't give me the confidence or self esteem or social skills to approach them. I remained an abused, neglected child, wanting and frustrated and blaming.
I got obsessed with Buffy, and I attached all my flaws to that one answer- if Buffy wanted me, then I was valid, then I was something and I would have everything I craved: sex, self esteem, love. But she didn't want me that way.
Cordelia did, but her price tag for making out with me was a slew of sleights that kept my self esteem in the same tattered state. Sure, I was dating the Queen of the school, but in doing so she was dragged down to my level, so heavy was I in the mire. I think at the heart of it, that's why the 'fluke' happened with Willow. Why I allowed it to happen.
And then Faith.
Faith was sex. Pure, simple, hot, unrepentant sex. I wanted her and she wanted sex. No strings, just the teenage fantasy. An amazing body willing to let you do what your body so, so ached to do more than anything. She burned hot, she burned fast and she burned me. Because I wanted a girl to take my burdens, fill my needs- all of them. And just sex?
Well, that left me standing in the cold, naked, carrying my bundle alone.
Faith took sex from me, she gave it in return. But she refused to take my emotional burden, and like a child I was angry and hurt by that.
I laugh at the ironic twist ending. Xander did hand his entire burden to one girl.
Me.
I look around the room.
"Well, least you can do is give me some of your junk" I say. "You jackass."
As I head up the stairs to my apartment, I feel a fresh wave of numbness come over me. Something inside of me tells me Faith won't be there when I turn that key and open that door.
And I know that, she is still weak and a long way from recovering, but it's okay. It's gonna be okay. She doesn't owe me my absolution. She doesn't owe me the love I know I crave from her (and fear).
I am Lexi Hart, and I just pour the drinks. And I like my coffee with milk, and the feel of my muscles after I fight, and I stitch up the wounded and help those who need it. I make a mean Martini, and man, you just dare trying to beat me a comic book trivia dude.
And I give my heart away too easily, and I don't like people to see me cry. And I like girls and, maybe some guys a teensy bit too.
And I am going to be alright.
I am going to open this here door, and whatever I find behind it, I am going to be alright.
