Dark Days (9 page)

T
he only reason I'm letting you get away with that outfit is because it's your birthday.”

Beth was talking. But she was also texting. In fact, she was texting so intently I assumed she was just saying the words as she typed them, like movie subtitles but in reverse. That's why I didn't respond at first.

“Are you talking to me?”

“No, I'm talking to the total stranger standing over there in white shorts, black socks, and red sandals,” she said, shaking her head as she continued texting. “Of course I'm talking to you. It is
your
birthday, isn't it?”

We were in Brooklyn at the corner of Stillwell and Surf Avenues. I have no idea how she could simultaneously talk, text, and keep track of peripheral fashion violations, but I was impressed. Unlike the man in the socks and sandals, however, I had actually put some thought and consideration into what I was wearing.

“What's wrong with my outfit?” I asked.

“You mean other than the fact that those shorts and that top belong to me?”

Busted again. I thought I could get away with it because I found them in that sad box of clothes she hangs onto in case old trends come back into fashion.

“I figured when they go into the box, it means . . .”

She looked up from the phone for the first time in our conversation. “Just because I haven't worn them in a while, doesn't mean they're forgotten.”

“I just wanted to look . . .”

“. . . like a teenager,” she said, completing my thought. “I get it. That's why I'm classifying it as borrowing and not theft. No penalty.”

“Really?” I said, grateful. “Does that mean you might let me borrow them
permanently
?”

She considered this for a second and then shook her head.

“Not after seeing how good they look together,” she said. “I never wore them as an outfit. I think they may get promoted back into the closet. Not for school, but for weekend wear.”

As much as I wanted to keep the clothes, I kind of loved the fact that Beth was willing to wear an outfit that I had put together. Mark that as a first.

“You know, if you're interested,” she continued, “we can look for some new clothes during spring break. I know a couple places in the Village where you can get something cute without spending too much money.”

“That would be incredible,” I said. “I absolutely would love to do that.”

Even though she immediately went back to texting, I considered it a total teenage sister bonding moment.

I had only been thirteen for half a day, but so far it was great. It began when my dad surprised me with my favorite breakfast—bacon pancakes. (That's right, they're pancakes with bacon mixed right into the batter so you get both tastes in every bite!) Now Beth was volunteering to take me to Greenwich Village to find cool clothes. And my friends and I were about to spend the day having fun at Coney Island.

“I've got wristbands and tickets,” my dad said as he approached, and waved them in the air for me to see. “The wristbands give you unlimited rides on everything but the Cyclone. And the tickets are for the Cyclone. It's going to be great. I'm so glad I thought of this.”

My sister didn't say a word. She just raised her eyebrow and he instantly corrected himself.

“I mean I'm so glad Beth thought of this.”

She smiled and continued texting.

He gave me a map of all the rides and attractions and I started plotting the day's activities. The plan was for Alex, Grayson, Natalie, and I to ride the rides for a few hours while Dad went back home and did his miracle work in the kitchen to make dinner and a cake. Beth was going to hang out nearby with some friends on the beach in case we needed anything. The thought that we were going to be on our own made thirteen feel even cooler.

A few minutes later Alex and Grayson arrived.

Alex inhaled deeply before letting out an exaggerated breath. “Is that the best smell in the world, or what?”

“The salt air coming off the ocean?” asked Grayson.

Alex shook his head.

“Salt air's nice, but seventy-one percent of the earth is covered by ocean,” he said. “No, I was referring to the singular place on the planet where you can breathe in the awesomeness that is the original Nathan's Famous hot dogs.”

The “famous” in Nathan's Famous is legit. It's legendary. It's a hot dog stand that fills an entire block and hosts the world championships of hot dog eating every Fourth of July. We were standing right in front of it.

“Happy birthday,” Alex said as he handed me a present.

Even though it was wrapped, the shape and feel kind of gave it away.

“I'm guessing . . . baseball cap.”

“That's a good guess,” he said. “But do you know the team?”

For this there could only be one answer. “It better be the Yankees.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. You'll have to unwrap it to know for sure.”

With my lack of birthday party experience, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to open it then or wait until later. I looked to Dad for guidance.

“Go ahead and open it,” he said. “I want to know which team it is too.”

I tore it open expecting to see the classic Yankee design of navy hat with an
NY
logo, but instead it was a lighter blue and had a white
B
on the front. I didn't recognize it.

“The Dodgers,” said Alex.

“Then why is there a
B
?” I asked. “The Dodgers play in Los Angeles.”

“They do now,” he said. “But they used to play right here in Brooklyn. And it was on this date, your birthday, in 1947, that Jackie Robinson became the first African American to play in the major leagues. He's my hero and was incredibly brave . . . just like you.”

Every now and then I'm reminded that Alex is totally awesome and thoughtful. I slipped on the cap and it fit perfectly.

“I love it.”

“And this is from me,” Grayson said as he handed me a card.

I opened it to find a pair of tickets to the new space show at the Hayden Planetarium.

“Greatness!” I exclaimed. “I want to see this so bad.”

Like I said, thirteen was off to a great start. Which is not to say that everything went exactly as I hoped. A couple minutes later I got a call from Natalie that dampened the mood a little. I knew there was a chance she wasn't going to come, but in my heart I thought she'd make it.

I was wrong.

She called and apologized, saying that her doctors and parents wouldn't let her. I understood, but I was still disappointed. I also felt bad because my dad bought four wristbands and it turned out we only needed three.

“Do you think you can get your money back?” I asked him. “For the extra wristband?”

“What extra wristband?” Beth said, taking the last one from my father.

“I thought you were going to meet your friends at the beach?” I asked.

Beth whipped out her phone and sent a lightning quick text.

“Done,” she said. “Now, are we going to have fun or are we just going to stand around and talk?”

It's amazing how much of a difference one person can make. If it had only been Alex, Grayson, and me, I don't think it would have felt as much like a party. But four was the perfect number. When we went on the go-karts, we raced boys against the girls. When we rode the roller coasters, no one ended up sitting alone. It was also cool because it was the first time Alex and Grayson got to hang out with her.

She told them about her plans to work at drama camp that summer and amazed them with her ability to do different accents. She could switch from Bronx to Queens to Long Island in the middle of a sentence.

The Cyclone was fun for everyone else, but with my dislike for heights I'm not really a big roller coaster fan. I was much more into the bumper cars because they have lots of excitement but stay close to the ground. And also because Beth turned it into a challenge.

“I have a secret mission for you two,” she said to the boys, using an exaggerated Eastern European accent. “Do everything you can to make sure Molly does not make it all the way around the track.”

“Hey!” I complained. “That's not fair.”

“Let me finish,” she said, turning to me. “If you can complete an entire lap, you can keep the clothes.”

“That's a deal,” I said, giddy with excitement. “Challenge accepted.”

I hopped into the car and strapped on my safety belt nice and tight. The cars sparked to life and the battle began. The three of them chased me in circles, slammed me with their bumpers, and hounded me all around.

They had me pretty good until I realized that I should stop thinking of it as an amusement park ride and instead consider it a physics experiment. Bumper cars are a perfect demonstration of Newton's laws of motion. Rather than go head to head, where I was losing out, I decided to change direction ever so slightly, which diverted their energy and let me escape from the pack.

It was a bold and exciting move but I soon learned that Newton's laws of motion are nothing compared to Beth's law's of fashion. She was not about to let me get those clothes, and somehow she managed to drive backward and trap me in a corner until the time ran out.

“You put up a good fight,” she said as she reached down to help me out of the car. “You even worked up a sweat.”

For a second I thought she was going to give me the outfit anyway.

“Make sure you take the clothes to the dry cleaners before you put them back in my closet.”

I was so busy having a great time that I didn't really think much about Natalie being a no-show. At least not until after dinner and cake. (The cake, by the way, was out-of-control amazing. It had cream cheese frosting and a layer of raspberry filling. I thought Alex was going to faint when he took his first taste.) I know she had a good excuse, but it still made me wonder about our friendship. And since I was now a teenager, I decided the mature thing would be to talk to her about it. That's why I headed over to see her the next morning.

I spent the entire subway ride trying to come up with the right way to say what I was feeling.

Natalie, I want to talk to you about our friendship.

Natalie, I want you to be honest with me.

Natalie, is there something you want to tell me?

Each line sounded more and more ridiculous. I didn't want to be emotional or dramatic, just honest. By the time I stepped into the elevator, I realized I was getting worked up and needed to relax. Luckily, I had all the way to the twelfth floor to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down. Rather than blurt it out, I decided the best approach would be to say that I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by to see how she was doing. I'd let the conversation flow from there.

I knocked on the door and panicked as I realized that it was a terrible excuse. Her neighborhood was nowhere near mine. It didn't make sense for me to be there. I was still trying to come up with a better reason when the door opened.

“Can I help you?”

I went to talk and then I saw that it wasn't Natalie or her mother. It was some random woman who I'd never seen before. I wondered if she was one of the doctors working with her.

“I'm sorry,” I said confused. “I'm looking for my friend Natalie Allen.”

The woman smiled. “The Allens are downstairs in apartment 2B.”

“Sorry, I totally forgot.”

In my moment of full diva drama I'd forgotten that Natalie and her family had moved downstairs. Now I had another elevator ride to come up with a better excuse. But as I started down toward the second floor I realized something. Natalie and her family had moved so their apartment could be renovated. But it wasn't being renovated. An entirely different family was living in it.

That made no sense.

Why had a temporary move become permanent? Why would Natalie's family move ten flights downstairs to a less exclusive apartment? That didn't seem like them at all. Her parents were so proud of their view of Central Park. They also seemed to have an endless supply of money and loved to show it off.

When I got to the second floor, I knocked on the door for 2B. And it was then, while I was waiting for someone to answer, that I figured out a possible answer to my question. It was an answer that was totally ridiculous, yet somehow explained everything that had been going on with Natalie lately. It was an answer that took my breath away.

She had moved from the twelfth floor to the second. She had gone down into Dead City with someone I had never seen before. She'd gone into the Blockhouse where the undead go to recharge. She said she wanted to come to my party when she thought it was going to be dinner and a musical in Manhattan, but canceled when she learned it was Coney Island in Brooklyn.

What if none of this had anything to do with our friendship or Omega and instead was all about Manhattan schist?

What if Natalie was undead?