1 | Lock-In
I only manage to snag an hour or so
before Jonathan's loud-ass banging wakes me from the only sleep I'll get prior
to the lock-in. He crams contraband in his backpack and slams drawers. Still,
he could be quieter if he expects me to help him pull off the elaborate score
he's been lining up for weeks.
Why'd I have to go and lose that
bet? To settle up, I'm slave to my younger brother for the night. At his beck
and call. I was stupid to think he wouldn't best me in the pool. Since this
past summer he's been a regular medalist on the swim team. I should pack my
trunks.
It's late afternoon and not the time
for sleep. I rub the remnants from my eyes and stretch out the aches in my
limbs that scream for more than an hour of sleep. The shudder takes me by
surprise. Maybe he won’t notice. With any luck, I'll find somewhere private to
crash at the high school in case they come back again.
"I had no idea you were trying
out for a spot at the zombie prom."
"I'm not, dill weed. You're cocky
as ever." I glance with meaning at his bulging backpack. "You can't
be serious."
"A Boy Scout is always
prepared."
"You're no Boy Scout."
I force myself to my feet and rummage
through my own backpack to see what else I need to bring. This time, I promise myself. I pull a hoodie off the floor and
cinch it around my waist. My eyes slam shut in protest. Jonathan looks over at
me and sighs.
"Dude, I'm serious about
tonight. I've got a lot riding on your duties as wingman. Don't let me
down." He passes me several forbidden Mϕnster drinks he probably stole
from the fridge. One of the jerks my mother dates stashes them at our place,
but they’re off limits for us. I'm talking police-lights-rolling-red-blue-red-blue-from-every-reflective-surface
off limits. Doesn’t mean we haven’t pinched a few.
A wave of guilt washes across my
bedraggled frame. I know I shouldn't, but there's no way I'll survive tonight's
festivities without some serious help. I crack one open and chug the entire
contents, gasping as it burns on the way down. I hide the empty can in my
backpack just in case. Jonathan's considerate gesture is highly suspect. If he
weren't thinking with his dick, I'd be just as suspicious.
I shouldn’t get so worked up over a
drink that tastes like ass. It’s wannabe beer, not even a legal issue,
carbonated cough syrup. Why do I let it get to me? Because it’s one more thing,
another excuse my mother’s boyfriend uses to thump the life out of Jonathan and
me. I could lose the library over this. Hell if I’m giving up the one thing
that keeps me sane. That’s why Jonathan started calling him Mϕnster Man, over
his shrine on the top shelf of the fridge, and that purple welt he earned a few
weeks back.
I shudder. I can’t stop these images
from cycling through my mind on repeat, awake or asleep.
Our Mother's voice wafts up from
somewhere below. "Get a move on, you two. I'm not driving you in to this
thing if you miss the bus. It'll be here any minute." I grab my book as an
afterthought. We thunder down the stairs, backpacks and smuggled items in tow.
Fortunately, our Mother isn't one for a strip search or pat down. Too bad I
can't stop the belch from the Mϕnster before it's too late. My Mother raises an
eyebrow.
"Sorry," is axiomatic.
"Excuse me," is a bit harder to pull off without a guffaw.
"Please tell me that isn't what
I think it is. You know how he gets when you touch his stuff. Give me a break,
okay?"
"It was his idea," I say, tagging
Jonathan on the chest before bolting out to the safety of the bus stop. Serves
him right. Soon after, Jonathan comes out hauling ass behind me. He must've
done some smooth talking to break free so fast.
When we get to the bus stop my
stomach lurches at Elias Stone skulking about. I could care less about him;
it's his sister I'm queasy around. Elise could pass for Amber's doppelgänger if
she curled her straight hair and dyed it fiery red. I'm convinced everyone has
a body double scattered in different parts of the country. That's what Amber
and I are now. Scattered. Past tense. No longer a thing. So why am I nervous
around Elise's brother? Because he's a reminder she's already there, warming up
for the pep rally out where the bonfire is set up. All the varsity players and
cheer leaders will be there rehearsing. In fact, the lock-in might as well be a
preview for the season. At least I'll know where to avoid if I can help it. Of
course my thoughts don't stop Jonathan from an eyesore greeting.
"Elias, my man. What's
shakin'?" They complete an elaborate handshake before full-on chest
bumpage. That's when Jonathan's bag splits open, spilling an exorbitant amount
of condoms between their feet. Elias doubles over with laughter.
"Aw, yeah, that's what I'm talking
about." More high fives.
If they were any friendlier, I'd second-guess
their orientation. Jonathan's straight as a line and completely at home with
his sexuality. He doesn’t even mind it when other guys check him out in his
speedo. It doesn't hurt that him and Elias are teammates.
"D'you bring your gear for the
show later? I've got a few honeys lined up if you're game."
"Sa-weet." An eye roll
would be redundant. I slug my backpack over my shoulder and climb aboard.
#
The universe has it out for me. When
we arrive, not only does a hole fail to open up and swallow me whole, but Elise
meets us at the drop-off. I can't help but eye how high her cheer leader skirt
rides up as she bounces around, apparently excited to see her…brother? Ah, of course.
She is practically panting for Jonathan. Still, I ogle every flash of her spankies,
even though I can't actually see anything, before the thought of Amber seeing
me check her out makes my stomach contort. I duck behind Elias and Jonathan and
slink away, muttering something about catching up later, or never. Besides, I
have plans.
The universe has other plans.
"Leaving so soon?"
"Pretty much sums it up,"
I reply.
"That's too bad."
Dare I ask? I'm distracted by the
uniform and how much she reminds me of…
"—what did you say?"
"I said, 'That's too bad.'
"
Yep. Too bad every girl I know looks
right through me at Jonathan. "Have fun with pool boy."
"I was hoping we could finish
our conversation from last time." She sidles up next to me. I shake off
the urge to place my hands on her hips.
"Your lips were moving but I
don't recall any words." She doesn't deny this fact. I remember how close
we were to kissing. What would Amber think from a hundred miles away? The
confusing part is how much they look alike. I do a double take every time I see
Elise. I want to do things I shouldn't, things I never got the chance to
explore with Amber.
Just then, my brain engages and I
gain the ability to have a backbone again.
"Sorry, my plans for tonight
are full. See you around."
Before she can retaliate, I dive for
cover inside the school building and press through the crowd. Most of the
student body greet their friends in clumps and check the schedule of events. I
keep glancing over my shoulder to see if I gave them the slip. I try to ignore the
internal vertigo.
When I see the flash of pompoms I
don't hesitate. I pull on my hoodie and duck into the auditorium where the
movie marathon is underway. They're showing slasher movies. One's called
Scream. I don’t care. I pick a seat on the far left end, near the exit door. Just
as a door opens in the back, I slink down in my seat. Please don't let them
find me, please don't let them find me. The door closes again. I let out a slow
breath and my eyes realize I'm in the dark and am somewhat horizontal,
therefore closing is in order. My eyes think that means permanently sealed
shut. I fight to reopen them. I could knock out hard. Sleep tugs my eyelids
down. Until the realization hits me and my eyes pop open, darting left and
right. I can't let that happen. Not ever. Especially here.
Then I remember the three other Mϕnsters
in my bag. I pull one out and down it. The auditorium is not a safe hideout.
I'd better find another place to lay low or get going on my real mission. I
sneak out the side door and up the dim hallway where I can already see a
commotion underway.
"Five bucks he croaks before
his fingertips touch water."
"Isn't this the third or fourth
time he's tried?"
"Not a chance he'll break the
school record."
"He's gonna do it. Everybody to
the pool!"
I know Jonathan said something about
a "show" when he greeted Elias, but I didn't know it would draw a
crowd. The mass of bodies shoves toward the Panther Pool. I head in the opposite
direction, as a wave of pompoms and cheerleaders surge back toward the crowd. I
start to look around but an arm slides around my shoulder and steers me back toward
the natatorium.
"You're going the wrong way. I
thought you two were close."
"What's this about,
Elise?"
"You disappeared before I could
tell you earlier. Johnny's gonna try to break the district record. If he gets
it, he'll land Regionals."
"First of all, his name's
Jonathan. Not Johnny. Second, he's been trying to break that record since the
summer tryouts. I've got better things to do than watch him put on a show."
"Well, I want to be there when
he does."
"Don't let me keep you."
#
I avoid the spectacle, but not the
aftermath. When Elise leans in, her eyes cast down toward my lips, eyelids
fluttering. When they close I freeze, unsure if I should kiss her back. Her
presence reminds me so much of Amber—that time in the dark inviting space of
the basement closet—that I struggle to think of anything except anticipating the
taste of her lips and tongue, my hands on her skirt pulling her close. Some
other part of me fires off an alarm, a warning, an interruption. What is wrong
with me? I bolt.
Cutting through the open gym, I pass
clusters of students playing badminton, basketball, volleyball. I run. The
divider wall had been opened so students can move between stations. I try to
imagine what Elise thinks, expecting our lips to meet and instead, the startle
when her eyes open and I'm gone.
Running is my go-to response,
especially when a situation like this one makes me uncomfortable. I did it
without thinking, like putting on one pant leg and then the other. One step
always follows the other. It was easy. I didn't have to deal with anything
messy, I could just do.
I stop at the field edge.
I know where I'm going, even though
I didn't think it through, didn't discuss it with myself. In fact, I planned this
all along when I packed extra clothes and Amber's letters and my toothbrush
earlier. I never planned to stay at the lock-in, or play wingman for Jonathan,
or run away from Elise all night. I planned to leave from here, something no
one would see coming until I am long gone. I promised myself and told no one:
I'm doing it this time, I'm running away.
"Where have you been?"
Shit. Jonathan.
"Look, I'm gonna hafta
reschedule. I'm busy."
I hope the look on my face explains
enough so I don’t get sucked into twenty questions. Too bad his brain is
otherwise occupied. If he could, he'd formulate a question, instead he just
stares.
"Jonathan, I've got problems.
Elise won't keep her hands off me." I head for the tree-line at the edge
of the field.
"Woah, bruh. Good for
you."
"No, not good." I turn to
face him.
"Oh?" There's something
weighted in his reply. Like he's holding back all that he's thinking.
The sound of the band and the crowd
surging out of the school for the field coincide with the realization that my
plans to leave have failed. Now I'll never get away before someone spots me. I
can't ditch Jonathan like this.
"My first rendezvous should be
here any minute. I need you on point. Circulate and prep the next few. Check
your list, but try not to be captain obvious. Capisce?"
I'm exercising great restraint not
to deck him in front of his entourage.
"You sure that bet was
legit?" My kingdom for a loophole or an escape clause.
Elise arrives in a flurry of pompoms
and skirts. Not that I was looking.
"What are we discussing? Is
this the bet that won you the coveted slave for a day slot at the
bonfire?" A smirk creeps across her face as she strikes a crossed arm
pose.
"What the hell?"
"Uh, I can explain."
Jonathan lifts his hands and starts to back away.
Everything explodes, tinged in red.
I'm shoving Jonathan with both arms before I even realize I've downshifted into
action.
"No need. Elise has caught me
up plenty, asshole." I take a swing and shudder as my fist connects with
his raised arm. Cue the posse.
"Brother death match!" someone
shouts as the crowd encircles us. I miss the next few punches but a kick sends
him reeling and then I've got him pinned to the ground and my fists are pummeling
him before I feel myself floating away and it's like I'm watching someone else
turn his brother's face to hamburger. Guys from the football team and the swim
team pull us apart. I feel something hot dripping down my face. I can't open my
left eye. Both hands hurt like hell. If my right eye was working I'm in far
better shape than Jonathan.
The worst part? When we're escorted
to the principal's office and they call our mother to come get us. It's close
to three and our mother is not a fan of losing sleep. I can't believe he'd
betray me like that. If Elise knows, then half the upperclassmen know by now.
What a douche. I refuse to make up this wingman job later if the whole thing
was a set up. Neither of us says a word. I doubt we could stick to words at
this point. My mother's voice slams into the tiny room before the rest of her
catches up.
"I've a mind to let you two
spend the night in jail for the stunt you just pulled. I cannot believe you'd
do this to me at three o'clock in the morning."
"Jonathan's the one who started
this whole thing. He-"
"-Joel threw the first punch.
He tore into me for no good reason."
"-Hey. Cool it. Not interested
in who did what. I've a mind to let Samuel talk some sense into you to when we
get home. Until then, zip it."
A hush falls as the weight of her words
and the realization sinks in: Samuel only lectures with a belt in his hands. Jonathan
glares. I flex my hands and wince. Our mother signs us out and we head to the
car in heavy silence. There go my plans.
That wasn't even the worst thing to
happen that night.
