Chapter 4: The Date

Chapter 4: The Date

            “So?” Layali looked at me. “Where is he?”

            “Who?” we were back in the van.

            “You s**t, the Cambion? You called and said you found him,” she flicked my head.

            “Yeah, I did find him.”

            “Where the f**k is he then?” she looked around.

            “Oh, well we’re meeting up tomorrow. We’re going to talk more then. Relax,” I told her.

            “What the…you think this is a joke, Roman?” Layali sat up straight, reminding me of her extreme height and tallness.

            “What’s wrong?” I leaned away from her. “What did I do?”

            “I cannot believe such a dumbass is the Savior,” she threw her face into her hands. “You do realize the sooner you get done with all these missions and journeys, the better, right? And also the quicker you get together your followers the better.”

            “Why? Since when did this turn into a race?” I was so confused. Why was Layali in such a rush for something that wasn’t even her responsibility?

            Layali started up the van and slowly pulled out onto the road silently. Finally she spoke up, “I’m sorry it’s just… I’ve heard things.”
            I waited for her to elaborate but to no avail. “Things pertaining to what?”

            “I was thinking about how… well you know how there were Saviors before you that all failed? And that if you do fail, then another Savior will be born?”

            “Yeah, and what of it?”

            “Well, what if that isn’t truthfully the case? What if Saviors aren’t born one at a time? What if there is more than one living at a time?” she looked over at me as we slowed to a red light. “In the end, there is only one Savior who can successfully receive all the blessings. So if this is true, you could be racing against a whole lot of other people trying to do the same as you. And you’ve only started and they could very well be extremely ahead of you.”

            I took a minute to think about this. “I don’t like thinking like this. How can we be sure that I’m not the only one right now?”

            “I don’t know. I mean, it’s just a theory but it’s a huge world and Nevada is such a small place in compare to it. I mean, what good is one Savior at a time anyway? If he or she takes too long to fulfill his or her duties? Wouldn’t it be handy for the Archdemons and Archangels to have made multiple Saviors at any given time to ensure the mission is fulfilled?”

            “You’re making me really miserable, Layali. I hope you realize that,” I slouched back in my seat, pressing my head against the headrest. “Either way, I’m going to do this my way. If I’m going to make ‘followers’ I need to take the time to get them to trust me and for me to be sure enough to trust them back.” I was talking more to reassure myself than for Layali to hear. “Besides, Lee really seems like he just needs someone to talk to�"”

            “Lee?” Layali smirked.

            “What? Oh, Achilles, I mean. The Cambion guy.”

            “It was your first night together and you are already on nickname basis?” She grinned over at me. A streetlight streaked by her face and flashed her white teeth.

            “You know what, Layali?” I clicked my tongue. “Shut up.”

            “So what was this Achilles kid like? His files say he’s barely sixteen so what’s he doing in a place like that?”

            I roughly told her of everything that happened on my way of trying to meet him. From getting hit on at the bar, dragged to the van, saved by drag queens, and nursed back to health by the very person I was looking for.

            “Oh my god, are you alright?” she sounded purely, genuinely worried.

            “No, I’m dead in an alleyway somewhere,” I sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank God for those queens.”

            “Drag queens really are the best, aren’t they?” she seemed to be talking to herself like she and cross dressing men go way back. “You owe them.”

            “I know that’s what I said but Barry�" the head guy�" said not to sweat it. But I’m going to get them something. I don’t know what. But I’ll ask Achilles I guess tomorrow.” I put my hands out in front of me. The seemed to have healed already since the bandages I changed at the church the second time we were there�" after seeing Asmodeus�" still looked fresh and I didn’t really feel any bleeding.

            “Roman’s first big date! I’m so excited,” she teased. She then looked over to me, “How are your hands?”

            “Fine,” I put them back down in my lap. “Well, they stopped bleeding anyway.”

            “Why don’t you unwrap them? Give them some air.”

            “Because they’re ugly and gross,” I rolled my eyes. “They’re scarred like crazy and it’ll never change. It’s like having a bad, highly noticeable tattoo. Except it physically hurts all the time too, not just when I first got them.”

            “Don’t go and be all depressing on me now,” Layali’s voice lightened. “Come on, now. You’re just getting on to a good start. We’ve�" you’ve done everything you needed to so far in one day.”

            I was tired. I stretched my arms over my head and reclined the van seat back more so I could get a nap. I loved sleeping in cars. Just something so innocent and comforting about it. Watching the headlights of passing by cars going the opposite way, viewing all the colorful club and restaurant and hotel signs like none of it really affected me. The van must’ve been soundproof or something too because the only noise was the soft humming of the warm engine and some rock song Layali was playing quietly on the radio.

            “How are you going to tell your mom all of this?” Layali asked with more curiosity then worry.

            “What if I just don’t? How bad would that be?” I really didn’t need any more things to get my mother worried about me.

            “Pretty bad. But then again, what do I know about parents?” her voice was harsh but still small somehow. “Mine hate me.”

            “Is that why Darius is all grumpy about you?”

            “Don’t get me wrong, I’m Muslim and proud. I don’t mind wearing a hijab and covering up and believing Allah. I could go either way really�" dressing the way I do now or like I did before, that is. It’s just, I don’t know. You probably don’t care.”

            “Go ahead, you can rant,” I shrugged. “Get it off your chest. I’ll listen.”

            “It’s just all ridiculous, you know? How people would think Allah or God or whatever would encourage absolute hatred on people just because they’re ‘different’ or something. Like, one day I came home to introduce my first girlfriend at the time to my parents and they freaked. It wasn’t like we did anything either. I was like, fourteen. I thought they’d like to meet her�" she was also Muslim, the same Sunni type and everything. But I was completely shunned by them for like the rest of the year. Then, I don’t know what I was thinking, but later I came to introduce them to a boyfriend I had that I really liked. But once again they freaked when they found out that he was a Christian Methodist and lived with his single, never married, mother. I just grew tired of them telling me I was incapable of making them proud and they sucked Darius right there with them. I stopped covering up more in a protest to them rather than for any purpose of disrespect to Allah. I got out of there as soon as I graduated high school. I just wanted to show them that whether I wore a hijab or not, I was the same person. Whether I was dating a girl or guy, it was still me. You know?”

            I had absent mindedly unwrapped my hands as I listened to her. “‘You were born into a family that doesn’t always appreciate you, but one day things are going to be very different.’”

            “Did you just quote Home Alone at me?”

            “Matilda,” I corrected with a smile. “I may be the worst Savior yet but I know movies like nobody else.”

            At this she laughed and it made me feel better. I told her to drive me back to Superior but when I woke up from a nap I didn’t even realize I got into she was asking me for my address and directions to my house. I reluctantly told her, since I was just too tired to fight back, and she took me home.

            I went to open the door to leave but Layali caught my wrist. I shivered. It was weird having my hands exposed and touched by someone else. “Thank you, Roman.”

            “For what?”

            “For… I don’t know. Just thank you. And just be careful, okay?” Layali’s dark eyes were full of genuine concern and worry and kindness. “Okay?”

            “I know,” I nodded.

            “And,” she loosened her grip on my hand. The interior car lights had turned on since I had the door open so she could easily see my scarred and ugly wrists and hands. “You’re hands are beautiful, Roman.”

            “Thanks, Layali,” I shrugged. I would beg to differ. The scars were still fresh. They looked dark red, spanning from across the inside of my palms to the outside, reaching as far as to just before my inner elbow. “See you later.”

            Layali nodded kindly and I hopped out of the car. “Text me during your date with Achilles and let me know what’s going on.”

“It’s not a date..!”

She sped off right away, blasting some song I’m sure Jazz new the name of but I had no idea what it could’ve been. I made my way to my house.

            “Is that a new backpack?” my mom questioned me with a billion things as soon as I entered. I just told her the bag was an old one that I left at Jazz’s house a while back and she had just given it back to me. “Fine,” she said, like she openly knew that I was probably lying but she was too tired and not in the mood to argue with me.

            “I’m going to bed,” I was just glad that she hadn’t noticed the giant church van that had driven me here. “Goodnight.”

            She grunted in response, watching Fox News or something. There was coverage of a news story about a robbery that had happened and flashing pictures of the devastated family who were saying that everything happens for a reason and that everyone in their family was okay so the robber was unsuccessful in truly robbing them of anything.

            I shook my head.

***

School suddenly seemed the least of my worries as the day went through.  

            I was too preoccupied on thinking how I could possibly convince not only Achilles but future followers to be my “followers” than remembering to do my math homework during homeroom. What does that even mean? To have followers?

            I was contemplating on what I would have to do to earn and gain blessings of not only Gabriel’s blessing, but the other angels as well. What promise could I possibly make to an angel?

I was overly worried about trying to figure out the location of Gabriel than to focus on writing my English essay on “Prioress’ Tale” in the Canterbury Tales. Up high could be f*****g anywhere!

            “How was the essay?” Darius turned to me as the bell rang, ending English, our last class of the day. He was back to his smiley old self.

            “What essay?”

            He threw his head back in laughter.

            I went to the parking lot as usual to find Jazz’s truck while Darius talked at me about who knows what. We all slid inside her car once more, but this time I sat in the middle so Darius didn’t disturb Jazz’s driving this time with his huge a*s feet and backpack.

            That was when my phone buzzed.

            “I didn’t text you,” Jazz looked over at my phone as I checked it.

            “What?”

            “The contact says ‘Angel’ but I didn’t text you,” she was trying to hold back a smile, I could tell, as she made the lame a*s joke. She flicked her eyebrows up quickly, though.

            I had to bite my tongue to keep from giving her the satisfaction of laughing. Suddenly my phone buzzed again but this time it kept going. He was calling me.

            “I have to take this,” I said before sliding on top of Darius so I could quickly get out of the car. “Yeah?” I said into the phone.

            “I’m here!” Lee sounded too up beat.

            “What do you mean, you’re here?”

            “Well, I’m looking right at you. You better not leave with your girlfriend because today you’ve got a date with me.”

            I don’t know how I didn’t see the old fashioned light blue mini cooper blasting an old RuPaul song before but I certainly did now, especially as a blonde kid in denim shorts and a bright orange knit poncho opened the door of the little car and stepped out onto the sidewalk, waving a long hand at me.

            “How did you… you know where I go to school?”

            “You were wearing a shirt with your school name on it yesterday,” his voice was deep.

            “That’s kind of stalkerish.”

            “Hey, you’re the one who wants to ‘hang out,’” he reminded before abruptly hanging up.

            I took a deep breath and knocked on the window of Jazz’s driver seat and she rolled the glass down. “I have some bad news, Jazz.”

            “Looks like you have some other girlfriend to deal with,” she obviously took notice of Achilles, who was now out of his car and leaning on it, watching me.

            “Okay, um, firstly, that’s a dude. And secondly… girlfriend?”

            Jazz seemed to have realized what she just said but chose to ignore it. “That’s a guy? No way. How is that a guy? Look at her, the way she’s walking over here. That’s a girl, Roman, sorry to break it to you.”

            “No, it’s Achilles�" he’s walking over here?” I flipped around and sure enough he was practically already right there behind me.

            “What are you doing? Did you not remember?” he crossed his pale arms. I hadn’t realized exactly how pale he was until now, seeing him in broad daylight. His skin was like paper and his hair was like platinum, the only color in him being his pink lips and blue eyes and his orange poncho.

            Actually, he sort of looked like…Ariel.

            Besides the poncho and shorts.

            “And this is…?” Jazz looked like she was going to burst into laughter at the sight of Lee.

            “This is Achilles Weaver,” I introduced with a sigh.

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Jazz pointed at him. “This is the kid of Asmodeus? This is the guy you have to be careful of because he might be a total threat to humanity? Or, at least that was how Ariel worded it,” she shrugged.

            “Oh I’m a threat alright,” Lee stepped forward. “They said I couldn’t pull off this oversized shawl because it would just make me look shorter. But look at me go,” he did a twirl and the tassels and fringes at the end of the knitwear twirled along with him.

            Jazz gave me a look.

            “I have to go with him for a little while, okay? We can meet up at Game Stop or something if you want. I just really have to do this.”

            Jazz motioned with her finger for me to come closer. When I did, she reached out her hand and I realized that she was pulling me in to kiss her. I did but I felt really self-conscious and uncomfortable that Darius and especially Achilles were watching. Finally, we pulled away from each other. Jazz ruffled my hair with her small hand before driving away.

            “Come on, you little f**k,” Lee grabbed my arm and led me over to his car.

            “Why does everyone call me that?”

            “Because that’s what you are.” We took our seats inside the little thing and headed out. “Where do you want to go? Any good pizza places by here?”

            “Yeah,” I gave him directions to it. It was about ten minutes away or so.

            It was weird seeing Lee drive. I don’t know why, it was just strange seeing him doing something as normal as driving when he seemed so, well, not normal. He turned down the radio as we came to a red light.

            “So that glasses girl…?” he said slowly.

            “Jazz,” I told him.

            “Is she like, your girlfriend?”

            I hesitated. Was she? I had no idea what the hell Jazz and I turned into within the span of just one weekend. I mean we both liked kissing each other�" I certainly had no issue with that aspect�" but it was just kind of awkward whenever one of us mentioned something about being a couple.

            “I’m not really sure,” I admitted. “I mean, I hate to be that person but… it’s complicated.”

            “I totally get it,” he nodded, putting on a giant pair of sunglasses. The clouds must’ve cleared overhead because sun suddenly filled the car with light.

            “I mean, we’ve been friends for so long and I was okay with it like that. But at the same time, I’d wondered for the longest time what it would be like if we were together. And now that we sort of are, I don’t know. It just feels a little different from when we were friends and I don’t really like that. It’s like we now have to put on an act for each other or something. It feels weird, is what I guess I’m saying.”

            “It’s okay to be confused, Roman,” he touched my arm gently.

            “I really am,” I laughed plainly, taking a moment to realize that he was talking about something a lot different than what I was talking about. “But, uh, anyway,” I cleared my throat. “Take the next right and it’ll be right there.”

            “Yup, yup,” he did as I said and we pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. It was kind of too late for lunch but too early for dinner so it wasn’t that surprising that the restaurant was pretty empty when we walked in. I led Lee to the cashier with me and ordered our food.

            “One large pie. Toppings?” the cashier asked.

            “Half everything and half…” I looked to Lee.

            “I do love me a top,” he winked and ordered peperoni for his half.

            The cashier, now turning slightly red, told me the price and I handed my twenty. He quickly gave back some change and ran off to the back and into the kitchen.

            We got my favorite table which was right by a huge window so I could watch the cars pass by.

            “That cashier was so flustered,” Lee snorted. “Real cute.”

            “Maybe it’s because you made him uncomfortable.”

            “Maybe. Do I make you uncomfortable?” he was playing with his napkin, ripping it into a perfect square shape.

            “No, not really. You just make me self-conscious.”

            “Really?” he looked at me, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Why?”

            “Because I could never pull off a poncho like that.”

            “You might,” he laughed. The knit thing really was huge on him. It came off his shoulders on both sides, revealing the black straps of the thin shirt that he wore underneath it. “You never know until you try, as I always say.”

            “Yeah, I’m gonna have to disagree with that. Like, I’ve never tried wearing that poncho but I know it’s never going to work on me.”

            Lee broke out laughing and as he did, I noticed him eyeing my scarred hands with concern so I pulled them off the table and into my lap. Or at least I meant to but Lee was too fast and caught my left one by the wrist before I could bring it back. “How did you get these?” his eyes shone.

            “I don’t want to talk about it…” I looked away from him and he let go.

            “Sorry,” Lee said distractedly, like he was not sorry and still wanted to very much know about them.

            I heaved a sigh, “Have you heard of stigmata?”

            “The wounds of Jesus that he got from his crucifixion and suffering?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. “Or the movie.”

            “The former,” I raised my brows, impressed. “I sort of get those wounds. I’m not exactly sure as to why but the others seem to have recognized me as the Savior because of them.”

            The cashier also seemed to be out waiter for he came over and dropped our pizza pie on our table and then left hurriedly.

            “That’s sort of a religious thing, though, no?” He stuck a peperoni in his mouth. “And what you are has nothing to do with religion.”

            “I don’t know about that, I mean it must have something to do with it.”

            Lee seemed to take this all into consideration, peeling more peperoni off his pizza slice and plopping them into his mouth.

            “The whole point of ordering pepperoni on pizza is so you can have a pizza with peperoni on it.”

            “I don’t tell you how to live your life,” Lee snapped but I could tell he was joking because he had to laugh afterwards.

            “Everybody else seems to,” I took a bite of my every topping slice.

            “Does Roman not like being told what to do?” Lee leaned on his hand forward, pursing his lips.

            I mocked him, doing the same thing, “Does Achilles not know that he has a giant glob of tomato sauce on his mouth?” I broke out in laughter as he scrambled furiously for a napkin and rubbed the big red glob off his bottom lip. “Do you usually dress like that?” I blurted.

            “Like what?” he tugged on the hem of his poncho thing and rubbed his bare, pale shoulders with the only fabric being the thing black strips of his under shirt. He brushed his hair behind his ear like I made him himself conscious. I don’t for what reason he’d be self- conscious around me; why would I make anyone nervous? It was just that I remembered last seeing him in sweats so it was surprising to see him dressed up.

            “Never mind,” I regretted I said anything.

            “Why do you always dress like that?” he pointed at me.

            “Because this is how every suburban upper middle class teenager dresses,” I scratched my arms. It was weird having my arms exposed and not wearing a sweatshirt or any type of long sleeves.

            “And this is how every pretty boy with mommy issues dresses,” he shrugged.

            “Mommy issues?”

            “Why do you think I’m on my own?” he finally went in to take a bite of his actual pizza slice instead of just the meat on top. “Please, if I could have chosen, I’d be back home. And…” he looked away from me, his face reddening slightly, “…I’ve done some things�"a lot of things actually�"that I regret in the past because of running away.”

            “The past is the past,” I assured him.

            He looked back at me slowly. “That past is the past,” he took a clip that must’ve been in his pocket or something and clipped a strip of curly hair to the side and out of his face.

            “Yeah, it’s not fair to make judgments from someone else’s past,” I sat back in my chair. “I mean, people can change and the past suddenly isn’t relevant. Plus, it’s none of my or anybody else’s business.”

            Lee smiled and his sharp hollow cheeks rounded off. “I wish there were more people like you, Roman.”

            It was my turn to blush. I got that lump in my throat that I usually get when something unbelievable hits me all at once or like when I’m at the very tip of a rollercoaster’s highest point and that millisecond of regret hits right before you drop straight down. Or like when you do a somersault in the pool in slow motion and your stomach drops and when you come out of the water your vision is fuzzy. Or like when you’re little and you spin in a circle and tilt your head to the side and you get that high feeling. Or�"

            “What do you mean? Why?” I swallowed hard.

            He looked confused, like he wasn’t sure why I was so taken aback by his compliment. “Well, for instance, back at the club�"we’re like a family, don’t get me wrong. We’ve told some of our worst stories to each other but we still act respectfully to each other. But the judgment is still there. You can feel it by the way they can’t look at you in the eye or when they don’t want to borrow your wigs or let you do their makeup. But you, Roman Becker, really just genuinely don’t care.”

            “What can I say? Apathy is my specialty.”

            Lee gave a small laugh. “But seriously, the world would be such a better place if there were more people like you in it.”

            What the f**k am I supposed to say to that? Thank you?  I tried to change the topic as “Somebody to Love” came on to the restaurant’s overhead radio, “Oh, I love this song.”

             “Naw, suburban upper middle class boy likes Queen? Never would’ve guessed,” he shook his head sarcastically.

            “Shut up,” I kicked his shin from under the table.

            “At the club we had this guy, Timothy, he would lip sync a mad Freddie Mercury,” he smirked. “He was like, the real deal. He even grew the stache.”

            “That I’d see,” I admitted. “Is he still there?”

            “No, he got married and moved to New York. A real shame he’s gone, he was, like, the nicest guy,” Achilles nibbled on the crust of his pizza slice. “Business at the club has been slow since then since we don’t have our signature guy anymore.”

            “Maybe you can be the new signature guy,” I finished up my slice and reached for a new one from the pizza box.

            “If only,” he sighed dreamily. “But I don’t think I could do it.”

            “You can’t only if you say you can’t.”

            “I mean, I am as good as everyone else there, even though I’ve only been there for just about a year now. Just imagine what I’ll be like in a couple of more years.”

            “Hell, imagine what you’d be like tomorrow.”

            “You’re so cute,” he laughed. “No but, Barry would never let me. He’s like my mom and no mommy would let her son be the star of a gig like that.”

            “I’m sure once he sees how good you are, it won’t matter.”

            “I feel like I’ve been saying that to myself my whole life,” he muttered surprisingly bitterly. “But it seems as though it always matters. I’m never going to be enough.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            Lee flipped over his wrist subconsciously, rubbing his pale skin. I looked down at them quickly to see that he too bore scars across them but they looked old, like he’d got them a long time ago. Though, I had a feeling it was for an entirely different reason as to why I had my scars.

            “Mom kicked me out when I was like twelve or thirteen or so. Like I said before, I just made my way through doing gross things�" that was the only way I thought I was of any use. My mom was pretty much the same way. I guess I got it from her. There was this guy who I ran into who helped me out in getting business for that. I had to give him eighty percent of my profit and in return he got me a place to stay and food to eat. I was with other kids like me and we were all miserable messes. Even though I found a community of people who were in the same situation as me, it wasn’t really better. It was worse, actually, knowing that this man was using us kids at whatever cost so he could make a few bucks without being first handedly responsible.

            “In the end, I turned out to be his highest profit. I became his favorite and, well, you could probably tell what sort of hell that turned into. I was just over thirteen when they caught this guy and busted the whole business. Of course part of me was relieved that the hell was over and no longer a daily thing but, at the same time, I’d lost my job. It was how I survived and suddenly it was getting taken away from me.

            “All of us kids were shoved into a crappy orphanage and foster homes. I watched all my�" friends I guess you could call them�"get adopted while I was neglected and claimed as too reckless and have too many behavioral problems to be adopted. They tried to put me through this behavioral school when I was fourteen but I finally was able to get out of there and run away once more.

            “I went back to my old business and was actually pretty successful. You’d be surprised at the amount of pedophiles in Washington. There was this one time, though, my last job. He took me to his place and I�" just couldn’t do what he wanted me to. It was too much. You see, he had all his friends over and… I just cried while they did it.

            “It was Barry who saved me. He was visiting a relative or something in the apartment next door and he barged in, hearing all the commotion. He beat their asses real good. He was like a black Hulk, kicking the s**t out of all of them himself. And well, he ended up bring me back with him to Vegas here and took care of me like I was his son or something.”

            Lee was looking down, his face glowing with embarrassment, like he’d just realized that he told his whole life story. “Sorry. You don’t care.”

            I reached out and touched his arm gently, “I care.”

            He looked right at my hand on him, “Really?”

            “Yeah. I do.”

            He gave a chipped tooth smile and we just finished the rest of the pizza whilst telling each other light hearted jokes and quoting stupid movies.

            “Roman?”

            “Mmm?” I swallowed down my last pizza slice. “Yeah?”

            Lee’s cheeks were rosy and he looked embarrassed again but in a much lighter sense now. “Remember what you said about being confused?”

            “When?”

            “About your relationship with Jazz. I was just wonder if�"”

            “Are you thirsty? Oh my God, how could I forget drinks? I’m so dumb, I’ll be right back,” I stood as quickly as I could and made my way back to the main counter. I already was flustered enough trying to handle with trying to figure out how and why one person likes me, I wasn’t really sure how I could handle another.

It looked like the same cashier from a distance as well as when I got close up to him. But the closer I looked at him, the more I got the feeling like this was a different person, despite him looking exactly like the same guy as before.

            “What did Asmodeus tell you?” I recognized him by his voice and his eyes turning into the bright orange color.

            “Bee?”

            “Yup, yup. Tell me.”

            “What did you do to the cashier?”

            “Crawled into his skin just a few seconds ago. Now speak up. Where’s Gabe?” he seemed to have read my mind because he put out two paper cups for the soda fountain.

            “Gabe?”

            “Archangel Gabriel, whatever.”

            I was getting really tired of repeating myself a billion times but I told him about the whole uncomfortable conversation I had with Asmodeus and how I went to go get Achilles on his command.

            “So that’s the kid he’s been hunting down all this time?” Bee looked behind me to catch a look at Lee. Lee was preoccupied with reapplying eye makeup or something along with holding a pocket sized mirror. “I see the resemblance.”

            “Do you have any idea where Gabe�" I mean Gabriel, is?”

            “I think so,” he rubbed his chin… or the cashier’s chin, I guess.

            “Can you tell me what you’re thinking? Please? Anything?”

            “Nope, that’s not my job,” he filled the two cups to the brim with soda. “Can’t help you out there.” He proceeded to dump both of the contents of the cups into his mouth simultaneously.

            “Then where can you help me?” I slapped my hand down on the counter.

            “Okay, okay. I can tell you a little about Gabe. But hold on,” he put his head inside the soda fountain and unleased a stream of Coca Cola straight into his mouth. This went on for about a minute and then he looked back at me and wiped his mouth. “Why don’t we sit down. I can get out of this kid’s body and not worry about blowing up his stupid mortal stomach.”

            I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at but Bee left the cashier’s body like how one who would step through a waterfall. That’s really the best I could explain it; like stepping through a seemingly solid looking thing, deceiving my eyes.

            The kid’s body was fine once Bee was out all the way but he passed out, falling straight to the floor while Bee was sort of just this glowing silhouette of a body before pursing back into the way I first saw him. He wore a dark tee shirt that was just a little too short at the hem, cargo shorts the color of his eyes, and flip flops that showed off his veiny feet.

            “Let’s go,” he came over to where Lee was still sitting and pulled over a chair. “Hello, Achilles Weaver,” he put out his hand.

            Lee looked from him to me. “Beelzebub,” I told him. “Another demon.”

            “Archdemon,” Bee corrected. “And I prefer Bee,” he took the origami crane Lee had into his big hand. “Anyway, Roman, where were we?”

            “Gabriel.”

            “You see, Gabriel is the weakest of us all. He’s the weakest in between the Archdemons and the Archangels. It also doesn’t help that he can’t have Nephilim children to back him up,” he refolded the napkin.

            “Why not?” I watched his hands work quickly at the paper.

            “A reason that’s not really my place to tell you. But he probably will. But that’s not important�"”

            A question just hit me, “Are there other Saviors out there? Like, ones that are living the same time as me right now?”

            For once Bee’s gluttonous grin left his face and his expression turned to stone. “Now where would you get an idea like that from?”

            As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out to look at who the text was from: Layali.

            “Answer my question,” I told him. “Is this some sort of competition or race?”

            Bee pursed his lips, like he had to think about his answer. In the meantime, I looked at Layali’s text:

            How’s the date going?

            Beelzebub is here, I texted back.

            So not good, she pretty much answered right away. Where are you?

            I texted her directions to the pizzeria. Maybe she could help me sort this all out and push Bee into giving me some straight answers.

            Bee finally decided on an answer and opened his big mouth full of sharp teeth like a shark’s. He leaned inwards, like he was going to tell me a secret, “I’m not exactly the strongest of the bunch either. I’m not not answering your questions just to mess with you, Roman. Though it does entertain me a lot. But there are those who are a lot… stronger than me out there. We aren’t equals, you see? Some Archangels are stronger than other Archangels and the same with us Archdemons. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty powerful but, there are a hell of a lot, uh, ‘higher powers’ than myself out there who really would not like me saying things to you.”

            “Like God?”

            Bee burst out laughing and looked to Lee, pointing at me, “He’s really funny, isn’t he? Listen, Roman, in certain aspects, I’m just as lost as you. But who I was really talking about was,” he lowered his voice again, “Archdemon Lucifer and archangel Uriel. The two most powerful counterparts. They don’t really want me blabbing everything to you. The two of them don’t really care much about what we do but they have one rule that the Savior must be wise enough on his own. So, to answer your question sort of, if there were other Saviors with you right now, it wouldn’t really be a competition because the winner is chosen the moment he or she is born.”

            “So you know if I’m going to be the successful Savior?” I sat up straight.

            “No. But Lucifer and Uriel do.”

            “Well, when do I get to meet them?”

            “They’re your last two missions,” he shrugged. “So you’ll probably already know yourself by then anyway�"”

            The door of the restaurant slammed open and I flipped my head around to see who it was.

            “Ah, Miss Essa,” Bee crossed his arms. “You know, I just saw your brother the other day. You two really do look alike.”

            “What the hell are you doing here?” Layali pointed a strong finger at him. “You are not supposed to be here; this is a mission that Roman is on. You cannot interfere! That’s against… that’s not…”

            “You and I both know that there aren’t really rules to this, Layali,” Bee gave a sharp tooth grin. “I also know a lot other things,” he tapped his long chin with amusement.

            “Hey! You know what?” Layali stomped her sneakers over and snatched Bee by one of his lanky ears. “You’re coming with me!”

            “Ow, ow! Wait!” he flailed his long limbs as she pulled him off his seat. “You can’t do this! You can’t�" ouch!” Layali easily dragged out the Archdemon of the restaurant with her two fingers. She went along with him outside and I could’ve sworn she winked at me before leaving with Bee.

            Lee looked at me. “Who…?”

            “Uh, long story,” I shrugged. “She helps me out with dealing with all this stuff, though.”

            “As I can see,” he tugged on his bright orange poncho. “This is all really the real deal, huh?”

            “What, did you think I was just insane before?” I made a face at him.

            “Sort of.”

            “It that’s the case then you willingly just hopped in a car, ate pizza with, and told your life story to an insane person.”

            “You just seem to have that sort of effect on people, Roman Becker,” he shrugged with a laugh. “But, since obviously you have a lot more important things on your plate right now,” he stood up and stepped to the side, pushing his chair in. “I should go.” He pulled his small strappy bag over his shoulder.

            “Wait,” I called before he could leave. “Will you…” I wasn’t sure how to word this. “Are you going to be one of my… uh, ‘followers,’ I guess?”

            Lee crossed his pale ankles and arms in thought. He looked like something out of a fashion magazine or something, standing there. Empty chairs and tables behind him, the afternoon sun just about to set behind him, and the way his white hair swept messily yet fashionably around his face; it all just seemed like such a natural setting to him.

            “Fine,” Lee decided. “Only because you paid, though. Now, what do I have to do? As one of your followers, I mean?”

            “Honestly, I have no idea,” I’m so glad Lee was so open minded and had such faith in me. Anyone else probably would’ve shrugged me off a day ago. “I guess we will just have to figure that out together.”

            Lee smiled charmingly, “Guess so. So I guess I’ll be spending a lot of time with you, then.”

            “I suppose so…” I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Though it seems dumb that I wouldn’t. I mean, he’s my “follower” for God’s sake. And I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean we just have to talk one time. Or even hang out casually like this.

“‘It’s your followers that will help you, though. They are the ones who decide if you are able to fulfill your duties as the Savior. So make sure you have trustworthy followers�"you know, not backstabbers,’” I remembered what Asmodeus said and shared it with Achilles.

“Well I can promise you one thing, Roman,” he tugged on his bag strap. “I am not a backstabber and nor do I ever plan on being one.”

“That’s good to know.”

“And personally, while I’m still not really sure what you are, or what the ‘Savior’s duties are and why you have to fulfill them; I think you can do it. And I wouldn’t say something like that if it wasn’t true. And,” he blushed, “I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

            “I know this is asking a lot and that I already owe you a whole bunch but…”

            “Are you still on that?” he stomped his foot. “You don’t owe any of us anything from that day. We were only being good people, not trying to get you to owe us something.”

            “But I want to do something in return. I know I don’t have to. In what way can I help you guys?”

            Lee sighed, like he gave up on trying to convince me otherwise. Which was a good idea because I was stubborn like my mom and wouldn’t give up on something like this for anything. “I don’t know, I suppose I’ll ask the others if you really want.”

            “I do.”

            “Then I will,” he rolled his eyes.

            Finally I let him leave. I watched his car pull out and drive away, just before realizing that he was my ride here.  

Author's Note

*Gets weirdly descriptive in some parts just because I was experimenting a bit.