One of Those Girls

"Don't cry," the man said.

"I'm not," she said.

She just couldn't believe she had actually done it. Faith was in California, Los Angeles. She did miss home, but if everything went okay no one would even know she was gone. The bus made a loud hiss that startled Faith. She skittered away from the large Greyhound she had been sitting in since Portland. She went away from the man with the beard and the button down shirt and mustache.

"You're one of those girls," he said.

He had been trying to talk to her since she stepped off the bus. The minute her eyes went everywhere to look at everything. L.A. was supposed to be sunny, but it was just gray and gross and hot. But, somehow she didn't feel surprised. Faith felt like she knew this city, like the way she knew how to ride a bike, climb a wall, or stake a vampire. Like the way she knew this guy was bad news. He followed her into the station.

"I don't think you know what kind of girl I am, dude," she said.

What kind of a girl was she? One that could be scared by a bus. No, what kind of a woman? Faith was a Slayer. Most people didn't know about Slayers, or demons, even though Faith had learned more people knew now than before. Faith was learning a kinds of things from her new Slayer friend.

"Sure I do," he said.

She looked at the man. Then she realized she should be texting her friend and not caring about him, like any other teenager. So, she did. She texted him on her cheap flip-phone which she had spent all her birthday money one.

"You're beautiful," he continued, "So you thought you'd come here and be a star, but now you're not so sure."

Faith wasn't a teenager. She felt like one so much it was only fair she should be one. Technically, Faith was ten. No, not technically, mentally? Technically, she was much older than that. Not a hundred and forty-three or anything, like a vampire, but like 25 or 30. She didn't like to be exact about it because it bummed her out.

"It's always the same story," the man said as Faith slung her duffel bag over her shoulder.

The story went like this: something happened to Faith, something bad. Her mom said she went into a coma when she was nine even though her body grew all woman sized. But, now that she was getting older the story was changing.

"You're beautiful and you come here because you know you're beautiful but your realizing it isn't going to be easy."

Faith felt she had lived another life. No, she knew she had. Everyone admitted enough. Spike, Connor, even Faith's mom and dad who didn't want to admitted she had just hadn't slipped into some coma when she was nine. It had been something else.

"If you want the Hollywood starlet life it takes work," the guy continued, "It takes connections."

Weeks ago Faith asked Spike which one of his faces was "real" the demon vampire face or his human face. He said they were both real. He said they were all him. Actually it went like this:

They were in the fencing room and he was lacing up her cleats. She was biting her nails and she bit on a hangnail and blood came out. So, his face changed into the lumpy fanged vampire one. He apologized and literally shook it off and Faith asked: "So, is that like your real face? If that's true you don't gotta bother with the human one. I'm not a kid. I—"

Lately she had wanted to prove to him she wasn't a kid in the worst way. Of course now she realized that just made her look like even more of one. Maybe that was why he left on his special mission.

"It's all me, love. The demon is something I shift into when I want where I want and sometimes when I don't want, but I always know it's me, even if it's something I become."

"So, like which face is harder to do?" Faith asked, like a moron, "The human one, right? 'Cause—"

"There's no mask, Faith. Sometimes one is harder than the other and sometimes it's all the same. I've been a lot of things. Big bad vampire, poet, lap dog, Champion, Hero. I've played a lot of sides," he looked up at her as he laced up her cleats.

"At times I got lost in the roles and I had a good time doin' it," he said and smiled sadly, "That was my mistake. Not the good time. The gettin' caught up in a role thing. It was yours too, but—but never mind. Forget I said that."

He got up and turned around, like he suddenly found the swords on the pristine white walls interesting.

"It's okay," Faith said, "I didn't something really bad, did I?"

Spike turned to back to her.

"No," he said, "People, especially young and lonely people make mistakes, Faith. God knows I did. But. The important thing is don't get caught up in the lines, love. It kind of all happens in the in-between. As long as you know who you are, you can decide who you want to be, to a point."

"Is that what you did?" she asked, "You decided to be good even though all the other vamps aren't?"

"To a point," he said, "The older I get the more I think the most important thing I did wasn't deciding to be good. It was realizing that I'm myself, good, bad, ugly. It's all there. It's all me and I gotta see it all before I step blindly into these parts I get offered. You had a lot to do with that."

He looked sad.

"I did?" she said, "How? Because, honestly, it all seems really boring for a vampire. Hanging out with a kid who isn't a kid. I know it's getting boring for me."

He laughed. "You're a lot of things boring is never one of them but I can see how you're getting bored. I have to go somewhere for a bit. When I get back things 'll be a little better. You'll have more freedom. So, just hold tight. Hold tight and you can become what you were meant to be in time."

That was weeks ago and they felt like years and Faith couldn't wait anymore. She wanted to become what she was meant to be in time now.

"I can hook you up," the mustache guy said to her now, "Give you the life you want eventually. Even though you're staring a little old, with a girl like you it won't matter."

"And I can punch you in the face really hard," Faith said to him.

She was relieved when her friend texted back.

The thing was, sometimes Faith wasn't very good. This was even true in the nine years she could remember. She got in trouble for fighting in school. There was the time they destroyed her favorite Amelia Bedelia book. She lost it and bit a scratched Joey McNamara who was three times bigger than her. Now she lied to her mother. It was beyond a lie, it was a clever rouse.

"Don't be like that," the guy said, "I know what this seems like, but I'm just tryin' to help you. I had to be honest you're a little old to be comin' out here to La La land to be a star, but it'll be all right."

"This all seems really familiar," Faith said, "Like déjà vu. You know, déjà vu?"

Faith knew she was mad Spike had left, and she knew she was being an a-hole. How many times had she closed her eyes at night and knew that her mother was really a good mother, a good person who loved her, but it wasn't enough.

"Is this your second time here giving it a go? Happens all the time. Don't worry," the guy still talked, "I know some people that can work with the age thing to break you into the biz but—"

"The Biz?" Faith said, "Oh, you mean stripping, right?"

Faith looked around the dingy bus station. She saw a lot of girls skinny and pretty and young. One had dark hair and olive skin like her mother. How many times had Faith wanted her mother to be sober, and more like a real mother or a fake one on TV, that bought her toys and baked cookies.

"No," he said, "The film business."

"Oh, well, stripping is how I learned what déjà vu meant. I was seven. My mom had this friend whose stripper name was Déjà You, she'd make you remember the best night of your life for years or some crap."

How many times had Faith wished her father would come back, or even that mom would just date a decent guy? With her mom with Connor and dad back, and Spike, Faith had everything she ever wanted. She had more, but she still wanted even more, that couldn't make a good person.

"Um," the guy said.

"I'm not here to get into the film business," Faith said, "I'm here to meet my friend."

Faith zeroed in on the girl with olive skin. Faith liked her clothes, a blue flannel, a red and grey baseball shirt and boots. She wanted to wear them.

"If you're already crying you're not off to a good start with him," he said.

"My friend is a girl and I wasn't crying because of her," Faith said, "I was crying because people that care about me want to keep us apart. They think we're no good for each other. Meanwhile, she's the only person that can understand."

"Lesbians, even better," he said, "Look, the two of you are going to need money and I—"

"She has money. I think they fund her and she has a job somewhere. I'm the one that had to lie and steal," Faith said with a sigh as the girl came closer, "She's lived out of the treatment center, or whatever it is, for a while. Connected to some big ass company Wolfram & Hart."

"Wolfram—" the guy began.

People milled around the bus station. Hugging goodbye, talking on their phones. Faith saw a sickly looking homeless man and put the last of her money into his jingling cup.

"She hasn't killed anyone in like years. We're the same, I think. I know," Faith kept moving towards he target. The Subway smell of bread was making her hungry, "That's why my mom, and everyone, wanted to keep us apart, but, I don't think we can be. I think we're important to each other. We're Slayers who can't remember. We're old for Slayers but we're like arrested."

"You were arrested? Trouble with the law," he said.

"No I mean like our maturity is arrested, like we didn't grow 'cause of trauma," Faith said.

"You're messing with me, right?" The mustached man held his hands up.

Faith was barely looking at him. She was looking at the girl. Their taste in clothes. Their bodies. They were the same. Faith could probably use her I.D. to get things. It wasn't like she had one living as a ten year old.

"No," Faith said, "But, you're messing with me. Right? You want to get me into porn? Exploit me as a lesbian or whatever. Telling me I'll be famous. How often do you do this? How often does it work?"

Faith kept walking forward and the guy kept walking backwards until he hit a bus bench. There seemed to be a whole bunch of skinny blonde in L.A. The head Slayer was one. That didn't surprise Faith a bit. Blonde girls were always in charge of everything at Faith's school. They all had names like Melody McEwen and Chrissie "C.C." Castellany.

"You know what?" Faith said and she felt herself smile, "I don't care."

It felt so good to figure something out. It felt even better to not care about it. The girl was so close Faith could feel the air of her walking. The girl looked at Faith and smiled. Faith smiled. Then the girl hit the guy swiftly in the face. He fell on back on the bench.

"He's asleep," the girl said. She cocked her head to the side and her wavy brown hair fell further down her back, "Well, pimpin' ain't easy."

She turned to Faith her smile was huge. The girl wrapped her arms around Faith. Seeing someone in real life was different than on line.
"Yo Dana, what up," Faith said returning the hug, "I dunno if you shoulda done that. Aren't we good Slayers now?"

"We're Slayers," Dana said, "That makes us good no matter what, bae."

Faith felt herself smile. She felt a giddy feeling like Christmas in her stomach. Maybe seeing people in real life is different, but Faith decided it was better.

"Sure," Faith said, "We're BFFS, right?"

"BSFFs," Dana said, "Best Slayer Friends Forever. You ready to have some real fun in La La land? Some real fun you can remember?"

"Hell to the yeah," Faith said and felt a wicked grin come to her face that felt good.