by Jeff Hale
Yeah, high school. Lucky me. I was a senior at Cimarron Memorial, located in the north-western ‘suburb’ of Las Vegas. Granted, MAGE had taught me a lot of stuff, hell I could probably get a Bachelor’s degree with my level of education, but it was part of my cover. I had argued with MAGE at first; I was eighteen and I’d already been gone from the school long enough, why not just give me a G.E.D.? But they had just told me that was why I needed to go back, that it was my senior year, and it would seem odd to those who knew me for me to drop out now. That it was only one year, and it would give me time to socialize with those friends of mine that I had missed for so long now. So I didn’t have a choice. School was bad enough before I’d signed on with MAGE, now it was even more so. Do you know how boring it is to go to school when you already know what they’re teaching? Although I did find it amusing to correct the teachers on occasion. They turned a nice shade of red, and I never could tell if they were embarrassed or pissed, but at least it broke up the monotony.
The bus arrived about a half hour later, and I was glad to see that it was nearly empty. Good. I hated dealing with large amounts of people in small spaces. An old lady chatted with the bus driver, and an impoverished looking man sat towards the middle of the bus, lost in his own thoughts. I headed towards the back to sit, like I always did, then took my portable disc player from the pocket in my jacket, put my earplugs in and hit the play button.
The bus had those fluorescent lights for us night-time riders. Gave it that inner-city ghetto bus look. Well, that and the dirty floor and seats didn’t help any either. Neither did the graffiti all over the ads that were posted above the seats. A couple of stops later and a girl got on the bus, someone that I recognized; the aforementioned Valencia Marcus.
Would coincidences never cease? We had known each other for about a year now, having met before I made my return to school. She lived one apartment building over and had introduced herself to me the day she had seen me moving into mine.
Oh great, she was coming towards me. She was nice to look at, but she apparently didn’t know when the hell to shut up. She talked so much I always wondered if she remembered to stop and breathe. That, and she was fifteen years old, and I felt drawn towards her in ways I didn’t like to think about. Wouldn’t be a problem, except I was eighteen, and she talked too much. I think I’d shoot myself sometime in the second hour of any date I was on with her.
I figured today she must have snuck out of her apartment. She was wearing a leather corset that showed off her trim stomach, and pushed her decent sized chest upwards, and skin tight leather pants. She had a pair of those leather stiletto heeled boots on, making her much taller than my guess of five foot seven, and her makeup was impeccable. No way in hell her slime ball dad would ever let her leave the place dressed like that. She was fifteen and she looked at least twenty-one, but that seemed to be the norm. Vegas was called ‘Sin City’ for a reason and even the teenagers strove to live up to it in more ways than one.
Not that she needed to dress up to look good, because she was extremely attractive even without it. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but gawk at her for a split second before resuming watching the buildings and streetlights go by outside. I still noticed her as she made her way towards me, and I could swear she was sauntering. Her soft features curved into a smile and she flipped her long black hair over one bare shoulder. I just had to remember, she was fifteen. She sat down next to me and plucked out my right earphone.
Dammit.
“Heya, Aerick! Wha’cha doin? I was just coming home from a friend’s house after a party. She asked me to dress up and stuff, which is why I’m wearing this. Do you think I look hot in this outfit, or what? My mom let me get it, but I know if my dad sees it I’m gonna be so dead, so I hope he’s gone when I get home, or maybe in bed, or at least in the bathroom or something so I can sneak past him to my room before he sees it. Hey, Aerick? Why don’t you ever talk? I’ve always wondered that about you. Mom said it’s probably because of what happened. You know, about your parents and all. Is that why?”
See what I meant? All that in one breath.
“Anyway,” she continued on, the bus lights highlighting a face so pale I was pretty sure she had to dye her hair to get it so dark, “my mom thinks that it would be nice if you were to come over and visit more, have, you know that whole family environment again and all. Dad doesn’t like you so he keeps telling me that if I ever invited you over that he’d ground me for life.”
I had suspicions that he’d do more than ground her. I had heard him yelling at her when I would come home from work at times. I hadn’t witnessed anything worse than that, and I had an idea as to why he was so hard on her. Both her parents were darker skinned, her mother being Mediterranean and her father being at least half Hispanic, and both had dark brown eyes. Val didn’t. He probably had an inkling that Val might not be his, or he would if he had half a brain.
Val looked over to make sure I was listening. I just sighed, but she didn’t catch on. It was a bit jarring when all of a sudden her dark blue eyes narrowed on me and she asked, “Say, what are you doing on the other side of town this late at night anyway? Don’t you have school tomorrow? And why do you smell like smoke and garbage?” and was silent afterwards, awaiting my answer.
I was so stunned I didn’t even realize that she had caught on to the fact that I didn’t smell normal. Once I recovered from the fact that she had gone quiet, I caught myself thinking fast to give her a satisfactory answer. This wasn’t going to be easy. Val saw me pretty much every day, either at the apartment complex or at school.
“Well, yeah I have school, same as you. Why are you way out on the other side of town this late?” I asked, trying to deflect.
“I told you, weren’t you listening?” She looked a bit annoyed.
“Yeah, friend’s party. Right. Anyway I was uh… meeting with friends and going on some of the rides at the casinos,” I lied.
“With Nina and Dave? Why aren’t you with them in her truck then?” she inquired curiously.
Great. It had slipped my mind that she knew my friends from school. Or at least knew of them.
“Uh. Different friends,” I muttered.
“Oh, those friends that Nina doesn’t like?”
“No, friends from work,” I said quickly. I didn’t want even a whisper that I might be back on the streets to even come close to Nina’s ears. Nina was a good friend, but she could be overbearing at times.
Val nodded and sat in silence for a few more minutes before going off on a completely different tangent. I sat mutely while she chattered enough for a five person conversation. We finally got to our stop, said good night to each other and parted ways. I climbed the stairs to my little studio apartment and unlocked the door. Ah, home sweet home, such as it was. I liked having the place to myself, but I missed living with Nina and her family, or staying with Dave, or even better, those summers when I’d get to go stay at Serena’s in Oklahoma.
Serena. That one name brought back wistful memories.
I was five, in kindergarten and scared because I didn’t have my parents around for the first time in my life. All I had was some strange woman that my parents had left me with. She was supposed to control twenty other children and teach us all the colors, the alphabet and basic numbers.
That was the other thing. All the other kids. I didn’t know them, and my best friend, Ben, from three houses down, was in afternoon kindergarten. I had never really been in a situation where I had to deal with this many other kids, and I didn’t like it.
Recess was the only time I got to get away from them all. I usually commandeered one of the swings and stayed on it the entire time, or went to one corner and played with my toy airplanes that my dad had bought for me. No one bothered me because one of the bigger kids had tried to take one of my airplanes on the first day and I punched him in the mouth.
Today I decided to go to my corner, and as I walked there, I saw that same bully, Zach Garrison, push a tiny bl
onde girl to the ground after she offered him a flower. I felt warmth from inside me. It was warm outside, and humid too, only being a week removed from summer in Oklahoma. This was different though. This warmth matched my anger.
I knew it wasn’t right, but I also knew he would hurt her more. No one would dare stop him, and she was so small. Scared for her and what might happen to her, I ran over and pushed him down, and as he tried to stand up I kicked him in the stomach.
“You don’t hit girls,” I said, remembering what my dad had drilled into me when I had hit my cousin a year before. Zach looked up at me and sneered, so I went to punch him again and he flinched and started to cry as he crawled away.
I looked down at the girl and offered her a hand to help her up. She took it. Her hand was small in mine. Most of the girls were as big as me, and in some cases bigger. But not her. As I helped her up I was stunned by what I saw; the face of an angel. Flowing light blonde hair, deep emerald green eyes, and a shy smile that made my heart melt. My heart stopped for a brief second and I felt it drop into my stomach and then leap into my throat.
“Hi. My name’s Serena,” she said shyly.
“I’m Aerick,” I said, smiling at her. I knew I must have looked like a complete idiot in that moment.
“Want a flower? It’s a lilac, my favorite.” She handed me the light purple flower she had tried to give to Zach.
“Uh. Sure.” I took the flower, trying to be nice. She had been through enough today.
“You were like a superhero or something, but you didn’t have to hurt him so much. He’s still a person.” She smiled up at me.
“Ooooo, Aerick and Serena sitttin’ in a tree…” several of the girls started to sing.
I felt my face go red and I ran to my corner, still holding the flower. Yeah, that’s right. The big bad bully basher just got embarrassed by a couple of girls singing some stupid song. I went back to playing with my planes and a few moments later a small shadow descended over me.
“Can I… can I play with you over here?” I heard Serena’s shy voice. I looked up and saw her standing there with her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth from the balls of her feet to the heels and back again.
“Uh. Sure,” I said lamely. It might be nice to have company.
“Hey, don’t you live across the street from me?” she asked.
“I dunno.” I honestly didn’t remember ever seeing her.
She looked at me and smiled. “You do! You live right across the street from me. Well, one house over, but you do! You and that boy Ben are always playing together. I don’t like him. He’s kind of mean to me.” She frowned.
“I don’t remember you.” I thought really hard and then it clicked. I remembered seeing her get an ice cream sandwich from the ice cream truck when it came by last week. “Oh, wait! I saw you at the ice cream truck. Why don’t you ever play outside?”
“My daddy says that there’s nothing but boys that play outside and that boys are bad news. So I play with my My Little Ponies and Barbies in my room,” she informed me matter-of-factly…
I sucked in a breath and pushed open the apartment door, feeling something in my chest tighten painfully. That was the first day I had met her, and since we both lived close enough to the school, she had followed me the whole way home afterwards. We’d been friends from that point on, and we had both put up with teasing from other kids who had thought that it meant we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was worth it. I had even managed to convince Ben to be nicer to her.
When I had moved to Vegas with my parents when I was eight, Serena and I kept in constant contact. I had always had a crush on her, or at least I assumed I did, because I felt the same way every time I got a letter, or a phone call from her, or when I would get to see her when we went back during summer and winter breaks so my parents could check on the house and visit relatives. I always felt excited to see her, anxious, like she was the focal point of everything.
I knew she felt the same way about me, because she had no problems voicing her feelings for me. By the time we were teenagers, it had developed into a lot more, but I never told her how much she meant to me because I had always been confused in regards to my own feelings for her. Until it was too late.
After we had moved to Vegas I made friends quite quickly, using everything I had learned from Serena about being nicer and less ‘grumpy’ with other people. Her word, not mine. David Farelli and Nina Hawthorne were the first two friends I had made. They were a couple and had been since I’d met them in grade school. They were my closest friends, and had been there for me through everything that had happened in my life, including the death of my parents in a car accident when I was ten.
My parents hadn’t left a will or specified guardianship of me, and none of my distant relatives had been able to or willing to raise a small boy. So Nina’s family, particularly her mother, Violet, had pulled some strings to take me in when Child Services had been trying to find a place for me to keep me out of foster care. I would always be grateful to them and they were like family.
Through my pre-teen and early teen years, Dave and Nina had listened to all my problems with Serena and how I felt about her. They had always tried to point out that it didn’t have to be as complicated as I had made it. That she loved me, and I obviously loved her. What they hadn’t gotten was that I had had it etched into my mind that she was like a sister to me, so it was weird and awkward. I just wished I’d figured it all out sooner, and unwillingly, my mind went to the last time I’d seen her.
It had been six days since I last spoken with Serena. It was a couple months after her sixteenth birthday and a couple weeks after mine, and she had just gotten her driver’s license and a beat up old VW bug. She had driven all the way to Vegas from Oklahoma with her older sister, Alysa, just so she could spend the holidays with me. She had even saved up enough for a hotel room, but Mrs. Hawthorne wouldn’t have her staying anywhere but with us at their place.
We had a good Christmas together, but three days before New Year’s we had gotten into a bad argument and she ended up leaving early. I hadn’t talked to her since, and when I’d called her home to make sure she’d returned all right, her sister had just told me Serena didn’t want to speak with me. The fireworks that New Year’s Eve just didn’t seem as bright as I struggled with how I felt about Serena. Dave and Nina did what they could to cheer me up, but it just didn’t work out. At one point I felt a stabbing pain in my chest, and I knew something was wrong, but not with me. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
I was back in school three days after New Year’s. The day had passed with the usual ups and downs. I had at least managed to avoid any confrontations with the douches that inhabited my high school. I rode my bike up to the door to the Hawthorne’s house, followed closely by Dave and Nina on theirs, and we left the bikes on the porch. As I opened the door I could hear the phone ringing.
“Lee? Mrs. Hawthorne? Anyone home?” I called out, expecting someone to be here. The phone kept ringing as Dave and Nina followed me in.
“Mom? Dad?” Nina called out. No one answered, and still the phone rang. I shrugged and hurried to answer it before the machine finally picked up.
“Hello?” I asked as I put the receiver to my ear.
“Rick? Rick, is that you?” I heard Alysa’s voice on the other end. She sounded upset. Very upset.
“Yeah. Lysa, what’s up?” I asked, a strange sense of dread creeping over me.
“I know I should have called you sooner. You should have known right when it happened, but my parents, they didn’t want you to know. They don’t what you to take part…” she sobbed into the phone.
“Lysa, calm down. What’s going on?” I asked, panicked now. Dave and Nina were looking at me, obviously concerned
“Serena’s…. Serena’s…. She’s dead, Rick!” Alysa finally said.
I didn’t remember dropping to my knees. I didn’t remember dropping the cordless receiver or Nina picking it up and continui
ng the conversation with Alysa. All I felt was cold shock, and a growing emptiness where my heart used to be. Where it now lay shattered inside of me. Tears slid down my cheeks, but I didn’t remember crying.
Then I heard the screaming. It was incoherent and primal. At some point I realized that it was me, that the sound had torn its way out of me, and that I was still screaming. Nina knelt down and held me, rocking me and trying to assure me that I’d be okay. For all I knew, the world ceased to exist in those few moments. Pain wracked my chest and I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t stop those tortured noises…
I leaned on the doorframe, my heart racing as I pushed away the painful memory. Serena had been my whole world, and when she’d died, everything felt like it had broken around me. I learned later that someone had been prowling around the house, and when she and Alysa went to watch the New Year’s fireworks from the roof of her house, the prowler had attacked Serena. Alysa had heard the attacker say my name, but that was it. She didn’t tell Nina the details, but then, it didn’t matter, did it?
After Serena died, I disappeared from my regular life as best as I could. I didn’t bother to come home anymore, didn’t hang out with my friends, because there was a gaping hole inside of me that I just wanted to run from, to forget about, and the only way to do that was to try to forget about myself and who I was. I was partially successful. While living on the streets I got mixed up with a crowd that operated outside the bounds of the law. The same crowd that Nina didn’t want to see me hanging around with anymore.
I couldn’t blame her either. Those new friends of mine might have given me a place with them, but they were mainly drug dealers and gangbangers. They had supplied me with pills and powders and needles full of shit that took away who I was and took away my pain. And once I was hooked I had paid for it all by running their drugs for them, and a few times, in my drug addled state, even killing some people for not paying the man in charge of the gang.