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Liam lies awake in his bed, barely awake. His eyes hurt, but he tries to keep them open. They close anyway as he lies on his back, focusing on the sounds around him. All he can hear are birds chirping, a lot of them, but his mind equates the noise with a sense of stillness. He rolls over, wondering why he didn't go to bed earlier, wondering how he's going to manage to stand up. Time to stay home, time to stay in in bed... No, it's fine. I'm good. He sits up, tossing his blankets aside, then falling forward into his own lap as he closes his eyes again. Fuck... this is gonna be rough.
I decide to stop at a coffee shop. I don't like coffee, but sometimes just the smell of it can jolt me a little. I order a muffin and don't pay much attention to the girl serving me until she gives me this look that I can't explain, this odd sort of look that normal people don't give. That's all it takes for me to feel the beginning of an attraction to her. I wish I could explain it better, but you'd have to be here to see it, and then you'd know. Something is definitely passing between us. I smile at her as I accept my change and she smiles back, a genuine smile, our eyes connecting, and it feels good. I take a seat and watch her as she serves people, a giant line forming very suddenly as a group of people come through the door. She maintains a smile as she serves person after person, staying polite and courteous to all these faceless people, and I know it must be hard for her. It's still early, there must be hours left in her shift. Customers can wear you down, I know, I've had jobs like this before. Customers are always cold and inconsiderate in little ways they probably don't even notice. So I always try to be nice, I treat the counter staff with some goodwill and respect, even if they've been worn down to the point where they're not pretending that they're happy to serve me anymore. It goes a long way sometimes, I can feel their relief at someone finally approaching them from the position of two people making an exchange, not some kind of master and servant dynamic. I try to give them some sense that even though they're working as part of a rigidly pre-defined chain, their individual effort is still appreciated. It may be true that almost anyone could do their job, but there's no reason to remind them of it unnesessarily. Sometimes it really doesn't work, though; some people are so hardened by countless hours of thankless drudgery that they just turn themselves off, and that's why I quit my counter job. I could feel it happening to me, and it just wasn't worth it. I only had a job at all because my parents wanted me to get one, but I eventually decided that they had more than enough money to support me; if they were gonna move me all over the country the least they could do was give me a fucking allowance. It didn't take too much to convince them, mostly because it was just easier to give me the cash than to bother having to deal with me. I watch her for about ten minutes while I eat, and by the time I'm done I'm in love with her. It occurs to me that she might have a boyfriend, someone to go home to to make the whole day easier, but maybe she doesn't. Maybe she'll go home to her room and be alone. A sullen girl. I could be with her and help her be happy, I could hold her and make her smile. Even if she has a boyfriend I could almost certainly steal her away. I know I could. But I don't even know why I'm thinking about this. I have a girlfriend already. Still, on my way out I look at her. The line has thinned and she's trying to deal with an old woman. I smile at her and she smiles back, a strange thing to see, because it makes it suddenly obvious that the smile she'd been holding for all those other people wasn't real. It was nothing compared to this one. Our eyes connect for a moment and then I'm gone, out the door, across the parking lot and walking away.
"Shit, I definitely missed out." Lenny and Jeff stand outside of the school, grinning widely as they talk to Carl. "Man, you sure did. It was fucking fantastic." Jeff readjusts his pants. "It was like shit you only read about." "Oh yeah," says Lenny. "Unbelievable. Best time I ever had." Eyes wide, Carl says, "Wow... were they cute?" Lenny and Jeff exchange glances. "Well, yeah..." Jeff says. "They were okay." "Fuck. You guys are lucky fucks, man." Moving closer, Carl asks, "So are you gonna set up another one?" "We're gonna try," Jeff says, patting Carl on the back. "Don't worry, we'll invite you. This time it all sorta came together spontaneously, and we didn't want to freak out the ladies by inviting the whole neighborhood." "No, I understand. Gotta let the girls get comfortable. Say... was your sister there?" "Yeah," Jeff says. "She was there..." "But did not participate," Lenny continues. "Which is too bad, 'cause she is one hot little slut. Booya!" he says as he and Carl exchange a quick high-five. "Hey!" Jeff yells, glaring at them. "How many times do I have to tell you not to talk about my sister like that?" "But she did set it up, right?" asks Carl. "She arranged for you guys to go over there and fuck a bunch of her friends, did she not?" "Yeah, she arranged it, but it's her friends that are the sluts. She was just there to get drunk." Jeff's eyes shift to the side as he adds, "But can it. Here comes Father Puritanical." Lenny and Carl turn to see Liam strolling toward them. "So," Liam says, joining them and looking at Jeff. "Did you do it?" "Do what?" Jeff asks, somewhat warily. "You said you were gonna fuck one of your lambs in the ass. Did you pull it off?" Jeff's face moves to a wide smile. "You know it!" he says, and the four of them chuckle to one another.
Steven peers through the doorway into Elizabeth's class. She seems to be studying something in her hand, but he can't tell what it is. He walks slowly toward her, holding her book in his hand. She seems to be looking at a piece of hair – she holds it up against the light, then places it in her palm as she continues to scrutinize it. "Man," she says, finally acknowledging his presence. "Look at how pretty this is. Look at the way light reflects off it... I don't know, I just never really looked at hair before." "Uh huh..." he says, watching her. "Where did you get that? Off the floor?" "No, it's from my head." She tosses it away and says, "So what did you want?" Alright, Steven thinks, She's acting kinda weird and I'm not gonna hang around. Just relay the message and get the fuck out. "I'm just dropping off your book. You forgot it yesterday." "Oh yeah." She takes the book and turns her attention away from him, looking it over. Okay, now I leave. I did what I came here for, she's paying no attention to me, just go. Show her I'm not clingy, I'm not needy, that I can just walk up to her and say a few things and then leave... "I read it," he says. She looks back at him for a moment, utters a fairly disinterested, "Yeah?" and turns away as she asks, "So how was it?" "I really liked it. It was very well written." He continues to stand next to her desk and for a moment considers sitting down, but ends up just standing where he is. "I finally saw Silence of the Lambs last night," she says, looking at him. "I don't know why it took me so long, 'cause I always meant to see it. I actually really liked the idea of it – when you don't like someone, you don't just kill them." She takes his arms and says, "You kill them and eat them." She raises his arm and gives it a sudden bite. She doesn't apply any pressure but he jerks his arm back in surprise, staring at her as he rubs his imaginary wound. "Jesus!" he cries. "What the fuck's the matter with you?" She laughs at his look of indignation, and he gives her one final glare before storming away. She turns with a grin and notices a few of her classmates watching her. She ignores them and looks out the window, one of her hands moving absently through her hair.
Jennifer walks through the rows of her classroom, handing our graded assignments. "Very good, Jessica," she says, dropping a paper on Jessica's desk. "You did surprisingly well." Jessica frowns as Ms. Cantrell continues down the row. She picks up her assignment and sees that it's marked D-. Flipping through the pages she finds a gigantic amount of red ink, dozens of things circled, each accompanied by a quick explanation. Technically they do all seem to be errors, but errors of the smallest, most absurd kind. "Hey," she asks quietly, leaning toward Lindsey's desk. "Do you think Cantrell saw us yesterday?" "I don't know," Lindsey replies, looking over her similarly hyper-critical paper, "but she must have at least heard you. You were laughing like a fucking idiot." "Well excuse me." Jessica watches Cantrell continue around the room and says, "You know what this means?" Lindsey raises an eyebrow. Still glaring at Cantrell, Jessica says, "This means war." "Oh for... look, I'm not going through the rest of the semester with marks like these." She flips her paper toward Jessica. "What are you complaining about? You got a B!" "Well, I'm a lot smarter than you." Lindsey gives a quick look around the room, then asks, "What were you planning, anyway?" "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I'll need your help." Lindsey shrugs to herself, re-examining her paper. "I dunno. We'll see."
Hillary sits leaning back in her chair, a foot propped up on her desk. She looks up from her textbook and glances slowly around the room, which is still mostly empty except for a few groups of quietly talking students. She notices Evan come through the door and walk straight to her. "We have to talk, Hillary," he says, standing beside her desk. "Do we?" "There's not going to be a repeat of what happened yesterday." "And what happened yesterday?" she asks, putting down her textbook. "You know very well what happened! That fiasco at the movie theater! There will be no more of us playing the couple." She smirks. "So you want to call it off, then?" He pulls up a chair and sits down across from her. "You don't get off that easily. I at least expect your side of the bargain to be paid. You'll call Elizabeth today and arrange a date with her and Liam." He looks her in the eye. "Clear?" She glances away with a smirk as she tips her chair forward to its original position. She looks him in the eye and answers, "Okay." "Alright. Let me know the details," he says as he stands up and walks toward the door. "Yeah," she says, returning to her textbook. "See you."
Elizabeth sits in class, smiling. She's watching Liam's desk, where he's laying on his arms, asleep. She glances at the teacher, who's writing something on the board, then raises Liam's textbook so that it's propped in front of him, obscuring him from view. She keeps watching him, not paying any attention to the class until the teacher asks, "And what kind of literary technique is being used here? Let's see... Liam?" Elizabeth holds up a hand in a stopping motion, still watching Liam. "He's sleeping." "Well," the teacher says, "Perhaps Mr. Scott would care to rouse himself long enough to-" "Shh!" She glances at the board for a moment then says, "It's didactic simile. Don't wake him up." The teacher stares at her, then shrugs resignedly and continues with the lesson. Eventually the other students also return their attention to the board as Liam continues to sleep, still being watched by Elizabeth. She reaches into her bookbag and takes out a black marker. Carefully she draws cat whiskers on his face, then puts a dot on his nose. There, she thinks, surveying her work. Not too obnoxious. Tasteful, even. When class ends she gently shakes him awake. "Hey." "What?" he asks, blinking his eyes groggily. "Time to go?" She nods and he pulls himself to his feet. Once he's gathered his things she leads him from the room, smiling as they walk down the hall.
I'm sitting in class, looking around listlessly, and I can't fall asleep again. I've gotta stay awake. Don't hafta stay focused, don't hafta participate, just have to stay awake... I scratch my head and lay on my arm. This is the worst class. I somehow managed not to befriend anyone in here. There aren't any acquaintances from other classes even, it's like I just moved into town yesterday. I look down at my textbook, or more specifically the novel I've got hidden inside of it and try to read a few lines, but I can't concentrate. This is never going to happen again. From now on I will get more sleep. It's amazing how a whole day can get lost in this fog, only half experiencing everything, never feeling quite present in any situation... My eyes linger on the last word of the last paragraph I'd tried to read before sweeping across the room, and I freeze. What the fuck... What is this? I hold my eyes steady, thinking back, remembering. Deja-vu, really, really strong... Fuck, I hate it when this happens. I've seen this before, I've been here before – but I've never been here before, so how do I remember it? I mean, I've been here for the last few months, but this memory feels like it was from years ago... the memory of this moment spans back to somewhere early in my life. Usually when this happens I just shrug it off, but deja-vu can really piss me off sometimes, because I don't understand it. Something is going on here, something strong, and it completely eludes me. Of course, if I really cared I could go look it up; studies have surely been done. Deja-vu... already seen... I need to go to fucking bed... Everybody starts to gather their books, and a few people are in the hallway before the bell even rings. I know this drives the teacher nuts, but she didn't make a sufficiently big deal about it when it first started happening and now she couldn't stop it without a major war. There are a few kids who's watches are timed with the bell down to the second, so they're the ones to tip everybody else off when there's about twenty seconds left in class. I never wear a watch, but sometimes I'm tempted; it's kinda funny how they hang around out in the hallway before class and don't step inside until the exact second before the bell rings. If you don't know how to keep control being a teacher must be really annoying. Not really enough time between classes to see Elizabeth, I'd better just get a pop and head to the next class. School really is such a waste; I don't hate it the way Elizabeth does, but it's definitely tiresome. I haven't absorbed a single word all day and it hasn't made a fucking stitch of difference. So I wander down the hallway to the pop machine. You've gotta love that, a pop machine in school. One school I went to even had a bank machine. That'd be great material for a sarcastic jab at society, but fuck it, I think it's great. Capitalist to the bone. Give me a plastic container of carbonated liquid in exchange for the change in my pocket or give me death. Some days I just look at the lines of stores, malls, restaurants, and it really makes me glad. I think it makes most people glad, they just don't like to admit it. Sure it's crass as hell, but it's comforting; if they weren't there I'd be walking across an empty grass field, carrying an unquenchable thirst for cream soda. And it's looking like a cream soda day, because almost everything else is sold out. I hate that little "sold out" light. I've got a dollar in change in my pocket, a whole dollar! I can do anything with this dollar, I can buy a pen and some paper, or a toothbrush, or some gum. But I can't turn off those damn sold out lights. Though in a way, it's the money in my pocket that will eventually fill this machine back up. The potential of this money that has yet to be spent. Christ, that's the worst thing about being tired – listen to this stupid shit running through my head... So I buy some cream soda, and while I'm taking a drink my eyes rest on the liquid in the bottle. It really is amazing to look at – a clean, even, transparent red. Beautifully unnatural, if it were possible for anything to be truly unnatural. If you went back in time a few hundred years and showed this to a native, it'd fascinate him. He'd have never seen anything like it. Not to mention the plastic bottle; a plastic bottle 400 years ago would be priceless, because no one else would have one. I lower the bottle and notice some girls giggling at me. They're younger than me, probably grade tens, and as I look in their direction they give me some peculiar smiles. One of them winks and curls her hand in a paw-like motion, and I give them a confused nod before continuing on my way. It seems like people have been giving me weird looks all day. Maybe I'm just tired.
Elizabeth lays on her stomach, her feet hanging off the edge of her bed, trying to read. Her eyes move across the words and the words form into sentences and the sentences collect in her brain, but instead of flowing into vibrant images they strike some unseen wall and fall into a heap of meaningless letters. She goes back a few sentences and tries again, but can't focus. She just can't pay attention... Steven's eyes were on these pages, these same sentences were running through his mind just last night; she can feel him, like a physical presence all over this book, spread across all of these ideas... This is motherfucking ridiculous. Steven isn't even here, he's in his house miles away. Why does he still seem like he's in my head? She puts the book aside. It'll have to wait. She closes her eyes and lays on her back, breathing out heavily as she lays her hands across her stomach. Wouldn't it be nice if this was like a mutant power? That I could pick up latent mental images of people? That would definitely be better than the alternative, which seems to be that I'm going stone fucking crazy... She rubs her eyes and gets up to go to the bathroom. She looks in the mirror, pulling the skin around one of her eyes lightly downward for a moment. Maybe I don't always like looking at myself in the mirror. Maybe I don't always like everything I see. Maybe I'm not perfect. But that can't be an unusual feeling. So maybe I am. She hears the phone ring distantly from the first floor, and a moment later her mother calls, "Telephone!" She furrows her brow as she walks downstairs, then picks up the receiver as she runs a hand across her forehead. "Hello?" "Hey, 'Lizabeth. What's up?" She smiles. "Hil! Hi, how are you?" "Good. I just thought I'd give you a call since we haven't talked in ages. You'd hardly even know we go to the same school." "Yeah, we've sorta drifted, and I spend most of my spare time with Liam. Or Steven," she adds darkly. "Steven who?" Hillary asks. "Steven Parker?" "That's the one." "Good god! Why?" Elizabeth laughs. "I don't know, he started hanging around me and I was a little delinquent in telling him to fuck off. So now he's in love with me." "Better you than me. I actually wanted to talk to you about you and Liam; I thought it might be fun to go on a double date sometime. To catch up a little." "With who?" "Me and Evan." Elizabeth doesn't answer, so Hillary adds, "Oh god, I didn't tell you – I met this new guy Evan and we've been going out for a little while. I think you'll like him, he's really nice." "Is he on the badminton team? I think Liam's mentioned him. New guy in town?" "That's him. So what do you say? It'll be fun." Elizabeth hesitates for a moment, then says, "Yeah, okay. What the hell." "Great! We'll just have to decide on where we're going. I'll let you know once we work it out." "Okay," Elizabeth says, still smiling. "So, what else has been going on with you?"
"C'mon Linds," Jessica says, holding a plastic bag in front of her friend's mouth. "You can do it." Lindsey holds a finger to the back of her throat and gags a few times, then extracts it. "It's no good. I can't do it." "Yes you can! I didn't spend the last two hours stuffing you with food for nothing!" Lindsey re-inserts the finger and induces one more choke before dropping her arm to her side. "It's starting to hurt. No more." "Yeah, okay." Jessica tosses the plastic bag aside and glances around the room, stopping on a small plastic garbage can. "Just a second," she says, checking to see that the can is empty and sliding it in front of Lindsey. "What are you doing?" Lindsey asks a moment before Jessica grabs her mouth and jams two fingers into her throat. Lindsey struggles for a second before doubling over and vomiting, holding her stomach as she heaves several times. Jessica smiles, but winces slightly at the sight of her friend throwing up into the plastic bin. "There, there..." she says, patting Lindsey on the back. "Let it all out..." Lindsey brushes her hair away and dry heaves a few more times before turning away from the garbage can, still holding her stomach. "God," she says, sticking out her tongue in disgust. "That was fucking..." She coughs a few times and stays silent. "I know, it's rough." Jessica reaches into her pocket and pulls out two twenties. "Here you go; payment as promised." "I hope you got your money's worth," Lindsey says, pocketing the bills. "'Cause I'm never doing that again." "Not even for fifty?" "No." "Fine, once should be enough." She picks up the plastic bag and asks, "Could you help me pour that in here?" Lindsey leers at the garbage can, but hesitantly picks it up and tips it slowly over. "Watch out not to spill any," says Jessica as she watches the more liquefied elements of the vomit roll smoothly down the inside of the container and into her plastic bag.
Liam knocks lightly on Elizabeth's bedroom door and steps inside. She's sitting cross-legged on her bed, a dozen or so drawings spread out in front of her. She looks up at him and smiles. "Hi." He sits down on the bed next to her. "What are you doing?" "Just looking over some old drawings. You know how people say they can only make a certain percentage of whatever they envision in their mind an actuality?" She takes some drawings in her hands. "I never noticed that. I think I was just too busy moving on to the next one all the time." Glancing at one of the drawings he asks, "Is that me?" "Yup! Pretty good, huh?" She takes her pencil and lightly adds some cat whiskers to his portrait. "Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. It was three hours before anyone told me." "So, it looked cool. You're right to thank me." He smirks slightly, then glances at the other drawings. "I haven't seen you do any of these in awhile." "I haven't been inspired." She shuffles through the drawings again, stopping on one of Hillary. "Me and Hil started together when we were in the seventh grade. We actually met in an art class." She smiles as she flips through a few more pictures. "It seems so weird that you can know someone for that long and just drift apart." "It hasn't been that long. We've known each other about... five years, I guess." "To me, that's epic. I always wanted to have a friend like that, someone to span across the years of my young life," he says, sweeping a hand majestically before him. "Yeah," she says, raising an eyebrow at him. "It was fantastic. But we haven't drifted that far," she adds, looking back at the drawings. "She called me today and asked if we wanted to go out somewhere with her and that guy you know. You know, what's his name. Evan." "They're going out? Wait, yeah, I think he told me that." "So what's he like? I've never met the guy." Liam shrugs. "He's alright. We don't really talk much. He's getting a lot better at badminton, but I don't think the other guys really care for him. He just sorta rubs people the wrong way. But I've got nothing against him." He stretches a little and says, "You wanna get out of here? Let's go for a walk or something." "Shouldn't you be all tuckered out? You could barely keep your eyes open in school." "Nah, I fell asleep as soon as I got home. I'll be awake for hours now." "Alright." She reaches under her bed for a pair of shoes and he stands beside the bed as she pulls them on and laces them tightly. She leaps up, smiling. "I love these shoes," she says. "They're my favorite pair. Do you ever put on a pair of shoes and just feel a sudden burst of energy, like the shoes are making you lighter? You could dance in them, you could run in them, you could jump off buildings and climb up walls, you could kick the ass of anybody you met-" She sweeps a leg suddenly up toward him and he catches her by the ankle. "You could Kung-Fu fight," she says with a grin. "No," he answers, laughing a little. "My shoes aren't that good." She shakes her foot free of his grasp and hops a couple of times. "C'mon," she says, heading for the window. "There's only one proper way to leave any building." She climbs out and he hears her jump to the ground. He can't see her in the darkness as he climbs carefully down after her. Once on the ground he catches a glimpse of her darting into the woods and follows her. He looks for another sign of her, but sees nothing. He peers around for a moment before she appears suddenly beside him and yells "BOO!" "Jesus fucking christ!" he says, clutching his chest. "Don't fucking do that!" She laughs and takes him by the hand, leading him deeper into the woods.
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