Authors: Patrick Freivald
"Uh… Game plan?"
She put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. "Yes. Game plan." She turned to look at him. "You want Fey to like you. She thinks you're a creepy obsessive fairy-chaser who went emo to get in her pants."
Dylan blushed. "Ouch."
"Yeah, so what's the game plan?" She glanced at the speedometer. He was going sixty in a thirty-five.
Never a cop when you need one.
"Um..." He took a hard left at twenty miles an hour. "Will you dance with me to make her jealous?"
"Not a chance."
"Why not?"
Because you're a creepy obsessive fairy-chaser who went emo to get into Fey's pants.
"Because then we really will be fresh meat. Besides, it wouldn't make her jealous. Emo kids don't dance at dances. They just hang in the back and look miserable."
He laughed, short and mirthless. "You're pretty jaded."
"Yup," she said.
* * *
They walked into the gym together, but not so close as to look romantic. Nobody seemed to notice either way. The room was dark and the bass cranked so high that the floor shook. Ani didn't see Mike or Devon anywhere, though Devon's cronies sweated it up under the strobe lights while trying to ignore the underclassmen at their heels.
Dylan made a beeline for the speakers.
Subtle.
Ani followed a few steps behind. Fey's step-dad wore giant earphones and bobbed his head to the beat, his eyes closed. Fey sat against a subwoofer, knees to her chin, and rubbed her back in slow circles across the vibrating fabric. She had a sucker in her mouth, and red drool had puddled on her leg.
Dylan elbowed Ani and jerked his head at Fey.
Ani stepped between Fey and the lights and yelled. "Hey!"
Fey opened her eyes and smiled, her teeth red. She slurped the sticky juice off her lips, then pulled the sucker out of her mouth. "Hey, Ani." She reached out and touched Ani's leg, staring wide-eyed as her hand rubbed the black fabric. "That feels amazing."
"It's called denim," Dylan said. Fey smiled at him and he smiled back.
It's called ecstasy.
Fey closed her eyes and dropped her hand, brushing her fingertips across the floor. "When are you done here?" Fey didn't respond. He scowled at Ani, then looked back at Fey. "Fey?"
Without opening her eyes, she swatted in his direction. He stepped back, then tried again a few minutes later. And again the song after that, to the same result.
He stormed over to the corner and crossed his arms, glaring at the floor. Ani followed and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll kill that stupid bitch," Dylan said through clenched teeth. "Nobody ignores me. Not me. Nobody."
Ani widened her eyes and took a step back. "Whoa, Dylan. You need to chill. She's just rolling."
He sat, arms folded, and ground his teeth through song after song, eyes locked on Fey. He seemed oblivious to the stares and ignored Mr. Betrus when he tried to engage him in conversation. With nothing else to do, Ani sat on an amp while Fey pet her leg.
Awesome.
As the dance wore on, Fey became less and less squirmy, and by eight forty-five, she was asleep. At nine-fifteen, her eyes snapped open and she sprang to her feet.
"Ani, hey. I'm starving, you want something?" Without another word she walked out of the gym.
Ani looked at Dylan, but the corner was empty. She followed Fey out to the concession stand.
The dance ended with no sign of Dylan, so Ani hitched a ride home with Fey.
The next day, Travis got his apology, so the night wasn't a complete loss.
* * *
Thursday was a half-day, and they had Friday off for parent-teacher conferences. English was up to a B+, but math had slipped to a B-. AP US History held strong at an A-. Music and Art were, of course, A's, and Gym was a D. There was no pleasing Mom with less than academic perfection, so she sat through a tag-team lecture from Mr. Gursslin and her mother.
Saturday and Sunday were the Fall Foliage Festival, where tens of thousands of people who lived with trees all around them for some reason converged on Ohneka Falls to gape at the foliage, eat greasy food, and play overpriced games with lame prizes. Everyone who lived in the village proper either cashed in on the festivities or got the heck out of town for two days. Her mom, unfortunately, was the former type.
If anyone else saw the irony of an independently wealthy cardiologist-turned-ZV-researcher-turned-school-nurse running a funnel cake stand, they never mentioned it. For as long as she could remember, Ani spent the weekend in her front yard as a Fall Foliage Traditional Kettle-Fried Funnel Cake slave, selling sugar-coated deep-fried batter at a six-thousand-percent markup. Only now it was Mom who ran the register and passed out the food, and Ani who did the frying.
The heat didn't bother her. She didn't sweat, and if the awning sheltered her from the sunlight, at least it was nearby. The tent kept the sea of humanity at bay, and if now and then she dragged a razor across her arm to release the tension, it was a small price to pay for spending two normal days with her mom.
The SATs were that Saturday, too, and that meant Devon was out of town. Mike spent the morning helping out, just like old times. They joked and laughed and she forgot herself, ignoring her mother's occasional frowns. Mike hip-bumped her as he sidled past, and she giggled. It felt so good to laugh. Drowning in his presence, she turned to hand her mother a stack of funnel cakes and froze.
Devon stood outside the tent, fists on her hips, her eyes ablaze. Mike was a deer in headlights.
Devon's voice was clipped. "Michael? Can I speak to you?"
Mike forced a pained smile. "Yeah, babe. How was the test?"
She stood her ground, glared at Ani, and then back at Mike. "In private?"
Mike untied his apron, set it on the counter, and walked out of the tent without saying 'goodbye.' Devon was bitching in muted tones before they'd taken two steps.
"Sweetie?" her mom asked.
Mike slumped his shoulders as they walked away.
"ANI! I need four more cakes."
Ani started, then handed her mother the cakes in her hand. Mike didn't even look back as she returned to her station. Her feet tangled and the world tilted. Arms flailing, she tried to catch herself as her chin slammed into the counter. Her hand hit the pot handle, and it flipped off the stove. Her mother screamed.
Four-hundred-degree oil gushed onto her side as she rolled out of the way. It sizzled as it soaked through to her skin, and she clawed her clothes away from her body. She heard panicked shouts and a fire extinguisher discharge but was too distracted to find their source.
She staggered to her feet to find a crowd gaping at her. She held her clothes out, away from her body, and gave a sheepish smile. "I'm okay! It's okay! It didn't make it through my clothes." Her mom's furious eyes followed her as she rushed inside to change.
She stripped to her bra in the bathroom, and winced as she touched the grey, shiny patch on her left ribs and abdomen. She winced as she poked at it, and again as the door flew open.
Her mom glared at her in the mirror. "Ani Romero, you need to watch what the hell you're doing." She dropped to her knees for a closer look and examined the injury. She pressed at the flesh around the burned spot with latex-covered hands. Ani didn't flinch. "Can you feel that?"
Ani nodded. "Yeah."
She moved onto the damaged skin. "And that?"
Ani shook her head. Her mom prodded further, and the entire area sagged, then sloughed off. Her mom sprang back as the meaty chunk slapped onto the floor. Ani shook in horror.
She could see ribs, stark white against her gray, lifeless innards.
Is that my liver?
She touched the lowest exposed bone, and her mother slapped her hand away.
"Don't touch," her mom said. "I'll get a bandage." She walked to the door, then looked back, her eyes watering. "Don't touch." She walked out.
Don't cry, Mom. You never cry.
Ten minutes later, she stepped outside to a chorus of cheers from people who thought she'd been crippled. Her mom waved them off, and Ani tried to ignore the odd sensation of her internal organs rubbing against the bandage. They closed shop for the day.
* * *
That evening, Jake came to the door, his eyeliner smudged across his temple. He peered into the house and spoke in a whisper. "Hey, Ani. Can you score any more booze?"
"No," she whispered back. "Mom's already wondering about the rum. You can't just come around here."
He leaned in close, a mischievous smile touching the corner of his mouth. "What's for dinner? BLTs?"
"What?" She'd made her mom some mac and cheese about an hour before.
Oh, no.
"Go away, Jake." She closed the door in his face.
Her mom called out from the basement. "Who was that, honey?"
She slipped behind the bookcase and tromped down the stairs. The lab smelled clean, antiseptic. The cinderblock walls were stark white, and racks of chemicals, labeled in block letters and shelved alphabetically, sat by type. Three giant, glass-door refrigerators stood against the far wall, lined with vials and Petri dishes of biological substances, and a yellow-orange cabinet labeled "DANGER: FLAMMABLE" sat in an insulation-lined corner, across from the fire extinguisher.
Her mom looked up from the confocal microscope, saw the look on Ani’s face and frowned. "What is it, honey?"
Ani tried to keep the disgust out of her voice. "Mom, Jake thinks I smell like bacon."
Her mom's eyes widened. "Ani, we have to do something ."
Ani shook her head. "No, he didn't realize it was me." She slumped onto a stool. "He thought we were having BLTs." She hated pouting, but she couldn't help it.
Her mom took off her lab coat and stripped off her latex gloves. "Oh, sweetie," she said, walking around the table. She tossed the gloves into the biohazard bin. "We'll get that taken care of as soon as I finish this rejuvenation test." She gave her a hug, and held it. After a moment, Ani pulled away.
"Mom, the bath isn't working."
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is." She took out a syringe and a bottle of appetite suppressant, filled the needle half full, and squirted out the air. "Do you have any idea what shape you'd be in without the new regeneratives?"
"Yeah, Mom, it's better than the straight formalin, it really is..." She paused as her mother pushed back the wig and injected the serum into her brain. A small prick, and the familiar rush of warmth flooded her. "But I'm freaking falling apart here."
Her mother set down the syringe and threw up her hands. "What do you want from me, Ani? I can't both work on another new bath and work on a cure. The bath's good enough as long as you're careful. If you keep out of harm's way, maybe we can avoid home school."
Ani gasped. "Mom, you
promised
. Social interaction stimulates my cerebral neurons. It's
essential
."
"I know, and it is, but things can change if you don't stop getting hurt. Your safety is top priority." She pulled on a new pair of gloves. "No more mooning after Mike. No boys. No friends over." She put on her lab coat. "And cut Jake off for a while. I'm not having him die in a DWI just so you can fit in." She walked over to the microscope, then smiled to take the edge off of the lecture. "Go practice your piano. I'll call you when I'm ready to deal with that... bacon smell."
Chapter 6
Monday was Columbus Day. A day off from school, wasted in study for the PSATs on Wednesday, after which Ani ran Warhammer night at the Lair. The customers kept asking her questions as if she played the game.
Boys and their little metal dolls.
Even emos looked down on the war-gamers. The thirty-year-olds with neck beards and beer guts were the worst.
Creepy.
She was almost glad to get in the bath.
She spent all day Tuesday worrying about the essay test in AP History, then nailed it. Three hours at the Lair, then home to study.
So much pressure for a test nobody cares about once you take the SAT.
She laughed.
Mom cares. Mom always cares.
* * *
Ani walked out of the cafeteria feeling pretty good.
"That was brutal," Mike said as he stepped up next to her. His emerald eyes looked flat and lifeless under the fluorescent lights.
"I think I did okay," Ani said. "Did you study?"
He shook his head. "How do you study for a test like that?"
Fey grabbed her arm as she opened her mouth to reply, and dragged her toward the bathroom. She didn't dare look back.
Inside, Fey pulled a bottle of pills from her purse, popped one in her mouth, and offered it to Ani.
More drugs, Fey?
Ani shook her head, so she capped it and put it back. "What the hell was that?" Fey asked.
"Uh..." Ani said. "He was... Uh... we were just talking about the test."
Fey rolled her eyes. "You. Are. Pathetic." She punctuated each word with a poke in the shoulder. "
I
was talking about the test. What the hell did that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know," Ani said. She checked her makeup.
Haggard and hideous. Perfect.
"College, I guess."
"Huh," Fey said. "You going?"
"To college?"
Fey rolled her eyes. "No, to the freaking moon."
Ani bit her lower lip, thinking. "I think so. You?"
Fey shook her head. "What for? So I can learn to sit in a cubicle the rest of my life? There is no future. You live, you die—that's it. Done. Just try not to get hurt too much on the way."
I'm sure those pills are helping, Fey.
"Yeah," Ani said. "My mom wants me to go. Maybe music or something."
Fey smiled, her eyes glassier by the second. "Music's cool. You could do that." She looked around the bathroom at the cracked ceramic tile and old grout. "Escape this crapfest anyway. I'll die before I become a townie."
* * *
Ani rounded the corner and swore under her breath. Devon stood there, leaning against Ani's locker with one hand, talking to Leah and Rose. To the untrained eye, they looked nonchalant—just three girls pausing for a chat. To Ani they looked like lions circling a wounded antelope.