by Meghan Edge
sort of agitating encouragement, because at school Reenie is no better, saying, “This person will never be a real friend. They're only virtual.”
“Don't be a jealous bitch!” I tease as she reaches for my hat. Reenie's teeth glitter like pearly shark teeth. I put up a hand to stop her, but she gets the hat anyway.
“See you at lunch,” Reenie says triumphantly, and I wonder if somehow she knows. But she couldn't know for sure, to a regular person that would be madness. No one believes in magic anymore. At least, that's what I tell myself as I feel my hands tangle in her hair and shove my tongue down her throat.
I feel the need to confess to the digital darling. Like somehow I betrayed her, even though we're just friends and I'm sure she/him/it doesn't give two shits if I make out with a real life person. Only as I type it, my stomach is twisted in knots.
write2beluvd: Is she pretty?
I consider the question before I type a reply.
magichatmarcus: Yeah. On the outside.
There is a literal five minute pause before she writes again.
write2beluvd: What else did you do today?
I'm a little disappointed that she- that nothing- she didn't even react. But I let it go. It was stupid to mention it anyway.
Except when I sign off, she evades me when I say I'd talk to her the next day. And she doesn't say goodbye before her icon disappears.
I avoid her online for a few days. I don't know why I feel – well, actually, that is entirely accurate, I don't know why I feel anything – but I feel like I've betrayed her. We aren't a thing and, as Reenie likes to point out, our relationship is barely real. Finally, I cave and sign onto the messenger.
She isn't there.
She's not there the next day either, and when I mention it to Reenie she is disgustingly smug. I feel like my heart hurts and I clutch my hat to my head even tighter. At one time I'd loved how easily my hat could be removed, but now it makes me feel too exposed. I don't want to feel anymore.
Hey, I've been busy. I started helping out with the play at school and I haven't been online. No time. How are you? How is the new girlfriend? Ttyl – write2beluvd
Her email, three weeks later, betrays her. I see the lie and the awkward hurt. Jealous. She's jealous of Reenie. I write back.
Hey. I hope you have a lot of fun. She was just a friend- we used to kiss sometimes because I get lonely. I'm not the type to be attached or interested in anyone. Sorry. Ttyl, miss you. - Marcus
She doesn't immediately reply. I start to worry. When I don't hear from her the next day either, I become concerned for myself. That perhaps I'm just a little too attached.
write2beluvd: Hey.
The message pops up after a week of silence, on a rainy Saturday afternoon just after Amelia yelled at me for bouncing a basketball against the door. My computer pings with the message. I'd forgotten I was even signed in.
magichatmarcus: how are you?
write2beluvd: I'm good. You?
magichatmarcus: … ….
write2beluvd: What?
magichatmarcus: Missing you. How was the show?
write2beluvd: :-D Good. Got you a souvenir. Want me to mail it to you?
magichatmarcus: Sure!
write2beluvd: So … you missed me.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as she picked up on the one thing I hadn't meant to say. My secret. I really had missed her.
magichatmarcus: Didn't you?
write2beluvd: Of course I did.
magichatmarcus: :-)
magichatmarcus: So did I.
Everything is okay after that. Or as okay as it ever can be with how I am. I don't let anyone, even Reenie, touch my hat. I find myself avoiding my sisters. Their concerned glances and pointed remarks dig deep. So I had a friend. It wasn't like she held any power over me. She couldn't take my hat. She lived states and states away. I'm safe. If anything, they should've been more concerned about the real girls and boys who tried.
write2beluvd: Do you ever wonder what it would be like to die?
This message is waiting for me after school but she isn't signed on.
magichatmarcus: Doesn't everyone?
A few hours later, after dinner and homework, I have another message waiting.
write2beluvd: I just hate living today.
magichatmarcus: Hey. Don't.
magichatmarcus: I would miss you if you weren't here anymore.
I go to sleep, worried and waiting for a reply. I dream of my sister Gabrielle, and how she looked just before she died, and I almost feel like she's still here, watching me. I also dream of my friend, of meeting her and holding her, and of her holding me. It's the first time I've dreamed something like this. I can't see her face, but in my dream she's wearing my hat and I don't feel like tearing my flesh off or like kissing her to death. It's comfortable. There is a message when I wake up in the morning, groggy and unrefreshed.
write2beluved: I'd miss you, too.
I start locking my hat in my locker during the day. It never occurs to me that it's not a safe place to leave it. The air feels weird on my shaved head and I shiver, cold but hot at the same time. Between periods, I find my hat is gone. I'm upset and worried and there is that niggling feeling that something is wrong. My hat. My object. My heart.
magichatmarcus: I might start acting weird.
(Who am I kidding? As the rash-burning-itch feeling starts to settle in for the long haul. I know I'm already acting weird. Messaging her feels like another kind of betrayal. Different this time, but similar.)
write2beluvd: What's wrong? Are you okay?
magichatmarcus: My- something I use was stolen from me. something. i'm going to start acting WEIRD.
write2beluvd: What can I do to help?
magichatmarcus: Nothing. There is nothing I can do.
write2beluvd: That isn't what I asked you.
I can already feel the alien longing for passion eating my guts up, twisting me into something I don't recognize.
magichatmarcus: Correction, then. there is nothing anyone can do.
The next day as Reenie slams into me in the closet, her kisses burning my mouth. I feel better. The itching has stopped as long as her hands are on me, claiming. Her skin is a salve and it soothes me. My troubled heart calms. I'm chanting her name like a prayer and I don't even recognize my voice.
My sister Waverly had her object stolen once. She told me about it in the late night when we were both huddled on the porch, watching a storm roll in off the ocean. She warned me about how the feeling crawled over her until she wanted to claw her way out of her own body. How sometimes she still had nightmares about the unwanted touches and lack of control. Waverly told me because she knew about my hat. She knew I let people take it from me, let them pet and kiss me when I needed affection. She wanted to know how it was different, because in both instances we were under the control of someone else, someone who had our objects. I told her that it was different because mine had been freely given for a bit of fun, whereas hers was taken from her without consent. She nodded, and we fell silent in the darkness, listening to the thunder roll.
I understand what she meant now.
At least I have Reenie, a good IRL friend to look out for me until I can find the culprit who stole my hat. Someone to rely on, to give me a hint of relief until I'm back in control of myself. It's just that I feel so dishonest. I mean, the online girl is just this person I found online, she's not even real to me. Is she? She's just a friend I've never ever seen. And I want Reenie so much. So much that I ignore my friend and I do whatever Reenie asks because only she can make the burning stop.
Marcus,
I don't know what I could have said to you but I'm annoyed that you haven't been around lately. I was worried about you that night, when you said you might be acting weird. If you didn't want to be my friend, if you didn't care about me, why couldn't you have just said so? I wouldn't have understood, but I think I deserve better than you just not talking to me. I thought, anyw
ay. So I guess goodbye and thanks for talking to me. I hope we helped each other.
- write2beluved / Emily
The email takes me by surprise. I'm not expecting that, not expecting her to just leave like that. I warned her, I did warn her! It wasn't my fault that I felt so out of control. The burning, fever-hot part of my brain that I know my object controls is whispering to me that it's alright, that she never mattered but this sane part of me, sitting stunned in front of my computer, realizes that she did. She did matter and she's going to be gone now because I couldn't find my object. But how could she matter? She wasn't real-
Only she's real to me. And I do care about her. More than Reenie, or my sisters or anyone.
It's like being in the eye of a hurricane, that realization. When I know that I don't need my hat anymore and the crawling animal inside me starts to quiet. Emily, her name is Emily, and she's the most important thing in my life. My hat doesn't matter. I'm in control.
Emily,
I am sorry but I can't explain why I've been distant. But hearing from you was exactly what I needed. I think I can do what I need to do now. I hope it's not goodbye, but if it is, you fixed a part of me that was broken for so long. Thank you.
-Marcus
The next day at school, when Reenie puts her hands on me, I tell her to stop and I mean it. It doesn't bring me relief like rain to a dry Earth. Instead her touches repulse me, make me want to take a shower. I am not surprised when I find my hat in her locker, or by the look on her face when I take it from her.
After school I find myself staring at the hat in my hands. It's meaningless but it feels important.