“It hasn’t happened to you, as I said before. Besides, what makes you believe that something bad would happen? Maybe something good is just around the corner.”
She pops the rest of the small pretzel into her mouth and brushes the crumbs off her fingers.
“Okay. All right. Let’s talk straight.”
“I thought we’ve talked straight.”
“Right...”
She drinks water.
“It never happened to me because I paid attention and chose wisely,” she says.
“You’ve never been married.”
“I didn’t get married, not because I didn’t have suitors. Yes, I had plenty of them...” she says in response to my baffled look. “Sadly, the one who almost got me was a taker. He wanted me to do everything for him. I was lucky to spot that thing about him before saying yes to him. I never had the chance to find the first kind of man–– the one who gives you everything–– but friends of mine have found him, and your grandmother and my sister had that kind of man too. Everybody, except for your mother. She got something else.”
She gestures dismissively.
“Never mind,” she says, sarcasm curling her lip. “Your father was a taker too. And Rose spot him from a mile, but it happened after she gave birth to you. Once she realized it, she ended her marriage.”
“I guess it runs in the family.”
“What?”
“Exceptions aside... picking good men?”
Her features relax.
“Yes, it does. I stayed away from troublemakers, and your mother did the same. I hope you’ll follow my example, too.”
“What about the third kind of man?” I ask after a moment, not giving her the reassurance that she seeks.
She leans back against a fluffed-up pillow.
“Uh... The third kind...”
She sighs.
“We’ve never had someone like that in our family, but I’ve seen that kind of man in real life. Friends of mine have dealt with him, and I had him in my court cases. I read about it too. It’s not pretty. It’s devastating. These men are like poison. They enter your life and don’t let go of you, no matter what you do. They only leave you after they killed you inside. It’s not the passion that consumes them. It’s the dark force inside them. The demons that they can’t control. They destroy the women that they pick and leave them for dead. They move on while the women never do. No man is worth that sacrifice.”
She stops, my mouth open in disbelief.
I have a hard time believing that those men exist. It’s even harder to imagine that I’d meet one. Where?
Inwardly, I want to laugh. But my chuckle would be a bit shaky since her words put a pang of fear in me.
I don’t know why.
Perhaps, it’s my imagination.
“Why would they do that? Who does that, after all?” I mutter, grappling with a strange sensation.
She lets out a soft exhale.
“That’s how they come into this world. They’re cursed with a dark power they cannot control. Nothing can stop them.”
I slump back in my seat.
“If that’s the case... What’s the point of warning me? Even if it happens, I won’t be able to do anything. I wouldn’t even know.”
“You can stay away from them. It’s better than falling for them.”
I stare at her for a few seconds.
“Can we talk about something else?” I say, her words hovering over the table like a dark cloud.
“There is something else,” she says, her expression shifting.
She slides off her seat and leaves the terrace for a moment.
Still tense, I pop another piece of dessert into my mouth, checking my phone.
She returns a few moments later–– a box of condoms in her hand.
I stop chewing, my mouth open.
“What the...?”
“You’ll thank me later,” she says, amused in response to my dumbfounded expression. “It’s summer, and you and Frankie are alone. Maybe not for long. You might find some company, so I thought a farewell gift would be appropriate.”
I snatch the box and set it in a chair next to me.
“I can buy condoms if I need them.”
“I’m sure you can.”
I study her face to grasp a hidden meaning of all this.
“You want me to get some experience over the summer.”
“Bingo.”
I laugh.
“You could’ve said so instead of spooking me with your stories. It won’t happen, though.”
“Why?”
I spring upright and set my elbows on the table.
“Because there are so many things I want to do. This is not one of them.”
I glance away at the water.
“I want to go out there and explore the coast. I can’t wait to take pictures and spend my days at the beach. Maybe climb a hiking trail. Make a trip to Big Sur.”
I shift my eyes to her.
“I don’t want men.”
She weighs my words for a second.
“You’re right. It’s a good plan. Just don’t forget what I’ve told you. Promise me.”
“I promise you,” I say, an engine sound beaming through the living room, echoing on the terrace.
“This must be Sasha,” she says, pushing to her feet.
Her voice trembles, and so does something in my body.
It may be the excitement spurred by the unknown, or maybe it’s way deeper–– a sensation shaping into something else.
Suddenly, I feel as if I’ve been warned, and I’m nervous.
3
LUNA RAE
Frankie and I watch the car pull away.
We’re both standing in front of the entrance, waving at the two women.
They wave back at us, excited, beaming with anticipation, getting ready for the adventure of their lives.
Their emotions echo in my chest, mirroring my feelings.
This is my first summer on my own, only having the company of my best friend, Frankie.
It’s not as if I need adult supervision, but it’s a strange feeling nonetheless.
Having the house for ourselves, Olivia’s classic car, the astounding view of the ocean, and the most scenic part of the coastal highway only a few minutes away is insane.
“I can’t believe they’re doing this. It’s crazy,” Frankie mutters, her eyes on the back of the car as it takes a turn at the end of the street and vanishes out of sight.
I toss a glance at her.
“I can’t believe we’re doing us,” I reply, spinning toward the house. “Are you hungry?”
She swings her eyes to me. Her gaze is washed with light.
“What do you think?”
“There’s food in the house, but we can buy something on our way and eat at the beach.”
She jerks out of her trance and gestures to the house.
“We can eat at the beach. I’ll make sandwiches. And we can stop at a cafe tonight.”
Sounds like a great plan.
We enter the house a moment later.
I spend the next few minutes in the bedroom, packing our stuff for the beach while she’s heading to the kitchen.
“Amber called,” she says, lifting her eyes from the table as I walk into the kitchen.