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The car ride is uncomfortable. I know that Paul's friends don't necessarily like me, but to have to be in such close proximity to them makes that dislike escalate. I can feel their eyes on me and Chris, though he's there somewhere, I can't see him. I have a feeling he's sitting in the back, hovering I guess, not sitting. I can't very well talk to him in this car full of people. Paul is tapping the steering wheel lightly, no real rhythm, just tapping, like he's as anxious to get out of this car as I am. I'm so tempted to see if Chris is actually sitting behind me, but if I look back there, I think I'll get glared at.
It's like these guys think that I stole Paul from them, but that's not true. I didn't steal anyone. I let Paul…let sounds like such a bad word. Paul spends plenty of time with his friends. I don't need to allow him to do anything. We're not so exclusive that I control his every move or even need to know where he is at all times. We've never even declared ourselves exclusive and I've never slept with the man. We're still trying to get to know each other and until I feel like I really know him, I'm not going to let him anywhere near my bed.
Plus there's the Chris factor. I know that it shouldn't have any bearing on what I choose to do with other men, but the fact that Chris is always there, it's kind of turned the act of sex into something…weird. I mean, I know he doesn't sit there and observe and take notes, he's not a voyeur, he's a guardian angel. His job is to protect me from harm, not to take sex tips from me. Chris probably has no interest in sex. He did say his…parts were just there, serving no real purpose except to create the facsimile of a human being. Still though, with these jumbled thoughts and feelings I've been having, the thought of doing something so physical in front of Chris is not appealing.
He's not talking right now either, which is strange. I figured he would be talking about how greasy Sean's hair is or how Paul is tapping nearly incessantly now, but he's not saying anything at all. Is he even back there? I don't think he's disappeared, he promised he wouldn't disappear on me again, ever. So he must still be there. Would he be in the trunk? But why would he need space anyways, he can't touch anything so he could just hover. I try to glance in the rearview mirror, maybe I can see him then, but Paul has it maneuvered to his liking and I can't see the backseat. Wait, my mirror. I pull down the visor in front of me and lift up the little flap a tiny light coming on.
"Steph, babe, sorry, but could you close that, it's a little distracting," Paul asks.
"Oh, sorry," I tell him, closing it up and pushing the visor back up.
"Little princess has to be beautiful," I hear a muttering behind me. I know it's Sean's voice. It was low enough to for me to hear, but not loud enough for Paul to hear and I think that's just Sean's intention. If he appears to like me, then everything is okay between him and Paul and Paul is his meal ticket. It's not a stretch to say that Paul is going places. He's already one of the top guys and he's only going to rise higher and higher. Sean's been around forever and is still someone's lackey. He'll only ever be someone's lackey so he might as well ride the best coattails he could find.
"You look beautiful already," Paul told her and she smiled. If only he knew she wasn't going to look at herself, but look for Chris. She expected Chris to say something to that, some snide comment, but there's nothing whispering in my ear about the cheesiness of that statement.
I try not to let the bolt of fear ride through me as I think about Chris disappearing again. I didn't tell him to disappear, he wouldn't, right? Then why isn't he talking? He usually doesn't shut up unless I really need to be paying attention to something. Is there something I really need to be paying attention to? What if there's going to be a car accident? Someone could run out into the street and Paul would have to swerve and we could hit a street post or something, the car tangling into twisted and unrecognizable metal. I tense up, looking around, darting my eyes for any danger.
"Be careful on the road, Paul," I tell him, just as a precaution. He glances over at me and I want to yell at him to keep his eyes on the road. Oh God, what if I'm the cause. He needs to stop staring at me. "Keep your eyes on the road."
"Sorry," he said, looking back at the road, the car having swerved just the tiniest bit into the other lane. I grab the handle over the car door, just to steady myself. I'm feeling so tense right now. I can see the arena in the distance, but it still seems so far away. There's a lot of space between here and there and so many things can happen.
"It's okay," his voice and I close my eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to you."
When did his voice become such a comfort to me? Why is it now that I hear it and it doesn't creep me out or scare me, but fill me with such a calm that I suddenly feel like I'm floating? Is it possible to fall for a person just because of their voice? Wait, no, not a person, an angel. Perspective, Stephanie, you need to keep your perspective. Still, his voice calms me down enough to where my hand drops from the handle and I'm okay and the arena looms close and I know nothing is going to happen to me. Chris would lie, Chris can't lie.
When we finally arrive, I don't think Sean can get away from me fast enough. There's only the problem that I'm still with Paul so there's no real escaping him or any of the members of Paul's little posse. BG keeps looking at me distrustfully, like I'm going to steal Paul away at any moment, but seriously, even if we were in a serious relationship, I'm not going to restrict his friendships. What do they take me for? I know everyone sees me as Daddy's little girl, the princess of the company, but I'm still a human being. We come up to the DX locker room for the evening, where they're going to be stationed.
I stop in front and lean against the wall as Paul stops too. "I guess I should let you be for the evening until we have to do stuff together," I tell him, closing my eyes then laughing a little at my choice of words.
"Do stuff together? I think I like the sound of that," he says, pressing his fingers to my chin and tilting my head towards him. I open my eyes and he's right there in front of me, his face taking up my vision. "What kind of stuff did you have in mind?"
"Not the kind of stuff you're thinking, I don't think," I tell him and he knows I'm not ready for any of that yet and, being the perfect gentleman he has been, he understands it. I'm grateful for that. Paul really is a wonderful guy. I'm really lucky to have him. He's real, he's real and he's here and I can feel him and touch him and I never thought being able to touch someone would be a major qualifier for a relationship, but there are a lot of things I can't explain about my world and life in general.
Before Chris, before I acknowledged him, I don't really think I believed in this whole God concept. I don't know, my parents just weren't very religious, they mostly believed in the religion of hard work. I guess I should've believed, what with this strange being hovering around me all my life, but I don't know, maybe I just thought Chris was a ghost or something. But now, I can't deny the presence of this all-powerful being and even though I feel like I understand more than the average person, there's still so much I don't understand. Like I don't understand why God, this merciful and loving God (from what I hear about him) would make me fall or whatever it is with Chris of all beings. There must be an end game.
Chris says that God lets us make our own decisions, but surely he would step in if I were to fall in love with an angel. The worst part is I can't go ahead and talk to God, I can't book an appointment and ask him about it. Even if I talked to God, as Chris says is okay, Chris would hear and I don't think he knows about my feelings. I hope he doesn't at least because I'll be so embarrassed. I don't know if he necessarily feels pity, but it might be a first for him if he knew that there were feelings from me to him that were decidedly not angel-like in their existence.
"That's too bad," Paul says and I almost forgot he was still there. He's leaning closer now and I stand up on the balls of my feet a little to make his reach a little shorter. I'm not resisting to his kisses. In fact, I like them, and in another dimension, where I'm completely alone, I would think them perfect. I wouldn't be thinking about whether or not Chris would be a good kisser. I'd really imagine he'd have to be, what with being an angel and being created in God's perfection.
"For you, maybe," I tell him, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his again. He deepens the kiss and I allow him to, feeling his tongue parting my lips. I allow him access into my mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer. I'm not usually one for public displays of affection, but if I'm going to let go of this silly idea of me and Chris, then I have to immerse myself in what is real. Not that Chris isn't real, but something real and tangible and that will work out. What kind of relationship could a woman have with an angel? None, that's what.
He pulls away, breathless and with his eyes shining as he searches my own. I curl my lips up into a smile and he gives me a lazy one back, reaching up to run his thumb under my lip, probably to get some of the smeared lip gloss up. "You're amazing," he whispers to me and I like hearing it. It's nice to hear compliments from someone you like, someone you're dating.
"You're pretty amazing too," I whisper back, but in the back of my mind, I'm wondering where Chris is. He's probably behind me, not watching so I can have a little bit of privacy.
"Thanks," he tells me. "I better get in there though, I think the guys will riot if I don't."
"Let them riot," I tell him, pulling him down for another heart-stopping kiss. He's a pretty good kisser, one of the better ones of the guys I've kissed, not that there have been many. He pull away first this time and wink at him, "That was just something to tide you over until we see each other again. I've got work to do though, my dad wants me to go over some financial documents."
"You know, I don't take you for the accounting type."
"That's why I'm trying to get my dad to let me broaden my horizons backstage," I tell him. "Later, Paul."
"Later."
I turn and start to walk away and there is Chris and he was behind me. He lets me walk past him and then he's beside me, probably materialized right next to me. I glance over at him a couple times and it's like he knows when I'm going to do that because when I do, he almost immediately turns and smiles at me. I guess he just feels me turning and then turns and I smile at him and I hope nobody is watching me smile into thin air. I have to be more careful at shows. I don't want people thinking I belong in a padded cell.
I make it to my office and lift up my briefcase, taking out the papers I need for the evening. It isn't until an hour later that I notice the quiet. In fact, Chris has been quiet for quite a while now. I look up and he's sitting there on the couch, just staring at the ground. I wonder if someone is talking to him, some higher being and he just has to listen and not talk. Maybe God is berating him for what he said earlier about me being the prettiest girl in the world to him. Maybe God didn't like that, that one of his angels would be so bold.
"Chris, are you in trouble?"
He looks up at me and he narrows his eyes a little, confusion tinging his cheeks, "In trouble?"
"With God?"
"Why would I be in trouble with God?"
"Because of what you said earlier, you know, about me being the prettiest girl in the world, are you in trouble?"
"No, I'm not in trouble with God," Chris tells me, shaking his head. "I think God has a lot more to worry about than what I think about my charge."
"Your charge," I mutter to myself. I hate that word, it sounds so informal. The least he could've done was say friend, but I guess that we're not exactly friends, but that I am his charge. Nothing more, nothing less. "Well, I'm glad you're not in trouble."
"What's wrong with the word charge?" he asks and I forget that he probably has super hearing.
"What?"
"You said charge like it was a bad thing, that's what you are, you're my charge."
"Well, I don't know, I just thought, maybe it would be more appropriate if you called me your friend or something, it just doesn't sound as…impersonal," I respond. I don't want him to see me as something he's obligated to. He was made for me, that makes him special. Unless he's not special.
"Okay, you're my friend," he indulges me. "So what's the other question you had on your mind? I've known you for your entire life, Stephanie, don't give me that look, I know when you want to ask something."
"Is there someone that looks like you in the world? Like does God make a human copy of the angels, like is there an angel that looks like me?"
"No, we're all unique, there's nobody that looks like me and there's nobody that looks like you."
"Good." I like the idea that he's all mine. "So you're not in trouble for what you said."
"Stephanie, there are wars, diseases, famine, poverty that God has to contend with. He can't do everything because well, there are things in this world that you nor anyone else could possibly understand. I can't reveal these things to you, but just…there's a balance to life, every life, for every good, bad, it's just how the world…I've revealed too much as it is. But no, I'm not in trouble with anyone."
"Okay, just making sure."
"Trust me, one comment does not a heavenly law break."
We fall back into silence and again, more time passes until the show is actually starting and he's still being quiet. "Why are you so quiet tonight? You weren't quiet earlier and now you're being like a statue, just sitting there, staring at the ground," I break the silence. I just can't take it anymore. He usually talks to me and keeps me occupied and now he's just sitting there.
"Sorry?" he says, probably for lack of anything better to say. "I wasn't aware I was your baby-sitter and had to keep you entertained."
I groan, "It's not about that, it's not about keeping me entertained, but you've been silent all evening and it's not like you to be that quiet, not around me, well, not that you can be around anyone else, but you didn't even comment on any of the cheesy comments that Paul was throwing my way and that's not like you because you always comment on it because you don't like him."
"I never said I didn't like him."
"I think it's pretty clear."
"I like him, he's a human being, I like him."
"Oh yeah, obligation or whatever," I say snottily. "Could you see me marrying him? Do you think he could be the one? Can you see that into the future?"
He furrows his brow, "No, no, I can't see that far into the future."
"Fine," I say, "so why are you being so quiet?"
"I'm just thinking."
"What are you thinking?" I ask him.
"Nothing that you need to be concerned about," he tells me and I just stare at him. I get the feeling he's lying, but why would he lie to me, he can't lie to me, surely that breaks some sort of heavenly law. Isn't that one of the Ten Commandments, thou shalt not lie or something? It must be in there somewhere.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive, just go back to work and stop worrying about me sitting here. If you want, I'll throw out a quip about Paul every hour on the hour, like that line about how you're beautiful the way you are, what, did he get that out of a book on how to score women or something?" Chris says and I smile. That's the Chris I've come to know.
"I thought it was sweet."
"You would."
"Chris, you were really just thinking about nothing."
"Yes, Stephanie, it's nothing, I promise."