We go around to the front of the mansion, and Dave opens the passenger door of his blue Ferrari.
I hate his car. Not because it’s expensive or I’m one of those morons who loathes people who work hard for what they want in life, which Dave does despite being an epic douchebag. I hate it because it’s so Dave. Dave would never be caught dead in Grandma’s old Bronco or a beat-up truck. He’s obsessed with status and looking the part of a powerful, rich guy. He treats women like they’re accessories for his public persona.
The irony is that what he really wants is someone like me. Someone he knows he can trust, and when she says I love you, she means it unconditionally.
Yet he had me at one point, eight years ago in college, and he lost me because he couldn’t resist chasing someone hotter. Oh yeah. I met her. Big tits, tall slender body, waves of silky blonde curls. Almost my exact opposite—long, straight black hair, five two, and average B cup. I wouldn’t call myself ugly, since I have the signature Norfolk cat-shaped eyes and high cheekbones, but I’m definitely not the ten Dave always chases.
Oddly enough, Alwar said it was Bard who first discovered Dave was cheating on me. According to Alwar, Bard had been keeping an eye on me while I was away at college, to “ensure I was not impregnated by a weak, unworthy human male.” Did Grandma know about the spying? Was she in on it? Does it mean Bard lived nearby the entire four years, and I just never saw him? Either way, I always did wonder how the other woman found out about me. Now I know. Bard must’ve tipped her off, because she knew where I lived and came to see me. She wanted to know for certain if Dave was two-timing us. Yep. He sure was. And sadly, we wouldn’t be the last of his victims because Dave is a serial cheater. If it weren’t for that one huge flaw, I know he could make someone happy. He has a good heart.
That’s why I could never bring myself to hate him after we broke up. I don’t believe in putting people into boxes. Good. Bad. Saint. Irredeemable. In reality, very few people fall cleanly into those categories. Most are on a spectrum.
For example, Grandma Rain was there for me when my parents disappeared. I was nine, and the town accused her of killing them. But Grandma Rain didn’t care about the rumors. Her only concern was me, and I’m sure it took everything she had to bury her broken heart over losing my mom. She chose to be strong for me.
Okay, and she also lied and hid everything she knew about Monsterland, including the fact that the Wall Men expect me to proxy for them in the Blood Battle. I know she simply wanted to give me a normal life for as long as possible, but the point is, she lied. She hid things. She wasn’t always a nice person. She even used to cuss out the people in town. “Useless, ignorant cunts, the whole lot of you!” she’d say. Or, “I’ve taken shits smarter than you dumb hicks!”
But that doesn’t mean she belonged in the “irredeemable” box. She was capable of incredible strength and kindness in the face of a community calling for her head on a spike. Meanwhile, those very same people who hated and judged her had no idea she spent her life guarding this side of the wall, protecting them, their children and families, from monsters who want to turn us into cheeseburgers.
Now, after all these years, her resentment finally makes sense. She lost her daughter in the Blood Battle—part of a system meant to maintain the peace in Monsterland and keep us humans safe—and in return for that sacrifice, the town accused Grandma of murder. They treated her like a pariah. Pretty messed up.
But maybe that’s the reason I’m so reluctant to throw labels on people, good or bad. You have to look at the entirety of a person to find the truth.
“So where should I take you first?” Dave asks. “Looks like you could use a change of clothes.”
“There’s a Walmart in Titusville. It’s about an hour’s drive.”
Dave tries not to react, but I see the cringe in his face. “Are you sure, Lake? I mean, you’ve got millions of dollars now.”
Yep. I sure do. A giant diamond appeared out of nowhere after Grandma Rain died. The money allowed me to pay the estate tax and start renovations to save it from ruin. I’ve since learned Alwar supplied the gem. Apparently, they have no use for such things in Monsterland.
“Dave, I could be worth a trillion bucks, and I’d still wear clothes I can wash in warm water, throw in the dryer, and wear a thousand times.” I’m not opposed to dressing up and wearing an expensive dress, but it’s not a priority. Especially now.