Falter Kingdom (10 page)

Good dress shirt and these designer-style jeans, the kind of jeans that are faded gray, yeah. They're simple but I think I look good in them.

This is me actually trying.

I go back into the bathroom, looking for something else to use in my hair, go through the cabinets—random cold medicine and old prescription pills, cleaning products—but then I see a thing of cologne I've never seen before. I don't remember buying this. Did I get it as a gift? Push that thought aside until I find a bottle of hair gel that I definitely didn't buy.

Yeah, so maybe my reaction wasn't right, especially if today—of all days—I wanted to just ignore the symptoms and feel normal.

“Stop fucking with me!”

My words, which I didn't really mean to shout, seem to hold there, right in front of me, instead of echoing out the way normal sound does. I can't explain it, but it felt like the area around me sank lower, packed in so that sound wouldn't travel the way it
usually does. I wish I'd paid more attention in class. I feel like we learned about the speed of sound and other frequencies.

But the important thing is that it's definitely messing with me, and I was stupid enough to lose my cool.

I took Father Albert's words about being true to myself in a way where I have to keep everything I care about, everything I know, close. That means pushing away all the other activity, the stuff that's supposed to get a reaction from me.

So here's what I'm going to do—

I'm going to use this hair gel.

I'm going to use this cologne.

I'm not going to admit that the hair gel works better than the hair spray ever could.

I'm not going to mention anything about how good the cologne smells.

I'm not going to notice that I'm locked in this bathroom.

No.

I'm not going to notice.

I'll just try the doorknob. Once. Twice. A third time.

So what if the lights go out and I'm cold, really damn cold? I'll shiver and keep trying the doorknob until it opens.

When it does, I head out, turning on the heat in my car, just for a little, to warm up. I don't leave it on for too long though, because Nikki won't like that. And I also don't want to start sweating.

Along the way, I feel better. I was able to just keep cool and not get worked up when activity started to really get in the way. Maybe that's all I need to do. I can't be sure, but at least it worked.

All I want to think about now is what's ahead. All I want to think about is Nikki and making sure this date goes well. Oh shit, I forgot the laptop in the car. Minor problem. But I don't think it got hot enough to scramble the chips and stuff. I'll have to try it later.

Maybe a little worried, but not going to think about that right now.

Nope.

I park in front of Nikki's house and I text her, figuring this is
probably the better way to go about it. Really, I don't want to meet her parents. That's just too much pressure.

She texts me back: “Be there in a few.”

Thinking: “Good, this is going to be good.”

Really feeling: nothing. I'm not nervous. Well, kind of nervous about the laptop. If it's dead, that's going to cost me more than I have to spend. I don't work a job and I've always been a little sensitive about that part. A lot of people at Meadows have part-time gigs. Some are full-time. I don't know how they manage it, but they have money to spend. I don't have money to spend. I don't like talking about it. Really don't. Worse is the fact that I still get an allowance. I used to quantify it as my mom and dad's way of saying, “Sorry we can't be around. But here's money for food and stuff.” Like, that makes a lot of sense. But I'm eighteen now. I'm about to graduate, and yeah: Still an allowance? I can't let Nikki know that this date is being funded by my parents' money.

What time is it? She said a few minutes. It's been fifteen.

I think about turning on some music but I don't really want to listen to the radio. Nothing on the radio is any good. I sound bitter. I guess I just don't like the type of music everybody likes.

Waiting, not letting my thoughts wander. This is hard.

First thing I'll say to Nikki: “You look great.”

No, that won't do. Um, how about “You smell nice.”

What am I, a serial killer?

“It's a nice night, huh?”

Yeah, that's better. Casual, kind of like I don't really care. Just being myself. Man, I'm really trying hard to be nervous, excited, or something. But yeah, this will be good.

I don't even see her walk up to the car.

She's right there, tapping on the glass, smile on her face, looking amazing—what else should I expect? Nikki's wearing a pinkish-red dress. It looks like she's ready to go to some lavish restaurant when really I'm taking her to a franchise place. Hope that's not a problem. The way her house looks from the outside, and the cars in the driveway,
her family is probably loaded.

When she opens the front passenger door, turns out she gets the first word: “Hunter, oh, Hunter, so excited!”

She leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips. It's closed-lipped and kind of like a tap, a peck.

I fall back on the least weird of choices: “It's a nice night, huh?”

Nikki nods, energy on high. She's acting different tonight.

“So what do you wanna do?” she asks.

I tell her that I planned to go to this restaurant, then either a show, some concert some kid told me about at school, or maybe just a movie.

She seems to dig the idea but then says, “Wanna just get a quick bite and then go for a walk?”

A walk? In a dress like that?

“Sure, if that's what you want.”

She winks. “I'm simple. And a concert isn't my thing.”

Well, all right then. I do my best to drive all cool and casual, making small talk, but really I can't help noticing that she keeps looking in the backseat. I don't want to say anything but I also can't help but, well, notice.

We end up at a fast-food place, her choice, and I order one of those family-feast-sized combos. She laughs and says, “It'll be our little secret.”

I park the car in the back of the fast-food parking lot, as far away from the other cars as possible, because, like I tell her, “We can't let anyone spot us.”

She calls the fully loaded nachos. I pretend to make a big deal out of it so I get two extra tacos than her share. We're fighting over who gets what and it's kind of funny. I know I'm laughing, having a good time.

Nikki and I look at each other, sharing the guilt, as we scarf down stuff that should never be called food.

I ask her, “How're the nachos you stole from me?'

She makes a face, mouth full. “Those tacos worth stabbing me in the back?”

Laughter and more eating.

She turns on the radio and tells me, “This song is, like, everywhere.
Every single station. Watch...”

Nikki scans the other stations, stopping only long enough to hear a couple beats. But she's right, two stations down the line, the song is playing.

“See?” She sips from a big plastic thing of soda.

“I don't get it,” I tell her.

Nikki says, “I love the song. It's so...
now.”

I guess so. A song that defines this moment?

I start on another taco.

She jumps up in her seat, leaning forward, which makes me drop the taco all over my lap. She laughs and says, “Come on, let's do something else!”

I'm like, “Yeah, sure,” and then, “Of course, I've had enough to feel guilty for a long-ass time.”

Nikki touches my arm. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You know I do. But let's not seem too eager. I tell her, “Sounds good.” And then I ask, “Where?”

She narrows her eyes, knowing well that I won't be able to say no. “You know where...”

At first I think she's joking. Then I begin to see it all. Everything. I see it pull back, like one of those movie shots where it starts zoomed in and then zooms out to reveal a huge landscape.

In this case, I'm focused on her so much that I forget to even notice everything that makes her even want to be around me.

Zoom out and I see.

Zoom out more and I can't help but feel cheated.

Zoom out to the point where I'm parking the damn car at the fields, and we're both getting out into the dark of the night, walking the fields with our phones used as flashlights, me shining my light over her shape, Nikki shining her light in my eyes, blinding me, laughing—it's a wide zoom that makes me feel, well, kind of sick.

I know. I know that she is like all the others.

I'm quiet and she's all happy, giggling and doing her thing, what she probably uses on any guy she wants.

Hand in hand, but my arm is limp; she's swinging it as we walk
closer and closer to the real cause for all this.

Do I need to really say it?

Do I really need to say anything?

Zoom out enough and it's all so obvious. But from this distance, it seems like everyone would get it instantly. I'm the stupid moron who thought that she actually liked me.

I see the spray-painted black crown from far away.

The moon is high in the sky.

She's leading the way.

There it is—root cause. And I think I'm going to be sick. All that fast food's going to end up under some tree.

Nikki pulls me in close. “Tell me,” she says in a whisper.

I got to play up the conversation. I can't stand it, but that doesn't mean I'm a wuss and won't go through with this, like maybe I'll still get to make out or round the bases with a one-of-a-kind girl like Nikki.

But come on, I know that I won't get that far.

Still, I say in a perfect even tone, “Tell you what?” Say it in a way that's as sexual as possible. Flirting, I guess.

I don't know what I'm doing.

Nikki's eyes glow. “Is it here?”

Do I play dumb or do I fast-forward, zoom the hell out to where I can be sick and everything that seemed worth it ends up being wrong?

I push it aside, mostly because I don't want to believe it, don't want to believe that it's just the same as anything or anyone else.

I tell her, “Yeah.”

Nikki kisses me. It's a real kiss. I want it to be because she likes me, not because she wants to be near it.

When I pull away, she says, “Keep kissing me. I wanna know what it feels like to kiss you.”

We kiss and then she runs away from me screaming, “I wanna know what it's like!”

I run after her. “What are you doing?”

She runs toward the opening, as if she's going to run too.

I'm saying something like, “Are you serious?” But it doesn't come out as a question. She stops near the opening of the Falter tunnel and then kisses me again. She pushes me to the ground. “What does it feel like to never be alone?”

A kiss.

“I just, like, wanna know what it feels like to be around.”

I tell her, “This is what it feels like.”

“It's watching us right now, right?”

I nod.

She giggles. “I wanna make out right here, right now.”

“W-what?” It's a genuine stutter. She's kind of freaking me out.

She's unbuttoning my shirt, her face near mine, breathing heavy, eyes wide and really bold. “I know you wanna.”

I don't.

Nikki pulls her dress up. “I wanna be as close to it as possible.”

I really don't.

Nikki bites my lower lip. “Make it do something.”

I really can't.

I'm frozen in place, shocked by what's happening. Nikki kisses me hard, driving her tongue into my mouth. She keeps asking me about the demon—what it's like to be haunted by it, what it's like to be so close to possession, what it's like to never be really sure of what I'm feeling—and then I push her away when she finally comes out with it: “Make it latch on to me.”

I tell her, “Stop.”

But she doesn't, not at first. She keeps trying to kiss me, forcing her will on me or something.

My stomach churns. I jump up to my feet, knowing that it's all coming up. I don't want her to see it, so I run into the tunnel.

She doesn't follow.

I hear her call out my name, but I run until I can't see the entrance anymore.

I run and then somewhere around there, I feel better. I feel fine. The sickness disappears. I stop and just stand there, wherever I am, in complete darkness. I'd look around but there's nothing to see,
nothing to feel either. The air around me heavy, but really, I feel fine. I feel... safe.

I think about what might happen next.

How I'll have to go back to that.

“That” being the failure of a date, the failure of everything.

I'm confused but here, in the tunnel, it's strange, almost comforting. The fact that nothing is there, literally nothing at all, not even sound, makes me feel great. It's comforting. I stand there, absent to everything.

Until I know that I'll have to face it.

So I walk back until I can see the opening. Nikki is sitting on one of the rocks, her dress wrinkled. She looks depressed.

When she sees me, she runs to me, and it's clear that she's still not convinced that this—whatever's between us—is over.

“Hunter, what the hell?”

All I say is “I'm heading back.”

“But...”

She follows. She doesn't want to be abandoned at Falter, not with the legend being so true and real and mysterious and fun and awesome and attractive.

On the drive back, Nikki tries to talk to me, tries to apologize, but she doesn't know why any of this has happened. She feels vulnerable, and you know what? She should feel that way. If only she knew how insane this feels for me. And then she looks in the backseat and asks me if it's there.

“I just wanna know, that's all.”