Absolutely none of it was his fault, but the accident still changed him. Dad stayed home from work, wandering around the house like a ghost. Even the firefighters who’d been with him that night couldn’t get through to him.
Dad used to scream the whole house awake. Nightmares, Mom said, but that was an understatement.
Fenna would climb into my bed, terrified, whenever Dad started screaming. I’d hold her until she fell asleep.
I hated that Fenna had to go through that. I really wanted to do something to help, but I didn’t know what.
So when a documentary maker asked me if I’d do an interview about the effects of the fire on our family, I said yes immediately. The documentary was broadcast on a kids’ channel, and I hoped I’d be able to help someone, even if it was just one person.
It got loads of positive reactions from all kinds of young people, which pulled me through that tough time.
The situation with Dad seemed to be going on forever, but at a certain point it gradually started to get better. They gave him medication to calm him down. He saw a psychologist and, with the help of the other firefighters, he was even able to go back to work for half days.
After a few months, he went back full-time and seemed to have forgotten it all.
But I haven’t forgotten.
Now and then I watch the documentary again. I see the dark circles under my eyes, which look anxiously into the camera.
Even now, I still feel that scared sometimes.
Alissa. Every pizza I deliver for the rest of the evening, I’m thinking about her. As I ride my scooter home, I can still see her bare neck.
I don’t realize where I am until I’m almost at the front door. This is my old street.
How is that possible? All this time, I’ve never gone the wrong way. I settled into our new place immediately.
My heart skips a beat when I see that nothing’s changed. The sidewalk is lower in one place, where I could always ride over it on my bike without bumping the back wheel.
In the window of number 39, there’s still a line of wooden cows on the ledge. I used to spend ages looking at them when I was a little kid. Dad stood patiently beside me as I counted them and gave them all names.
The memory’s painful.
Nothing’s changed here, and yet everything has changed.
* * *
—
“Hey, sweetie,” Julie says as I go into the kitchen. “How was your day?”
Should I tell her that I accidentally rode my scooter to our old street? But then she will ask me all kinds of questions: how that made me feel, if I’d like to go visit the grave, if I want to go back to the old house with her….
“Oh, it was okay.” I lean over the pan. “Smells good.”
“Want to set the table?”
I put the plates opposite each other. Even though it’s just the two of us, Julie always cooks. She’s never allowed herself to be defeated after we lost Dad. But I know she cried over him for many nights. I could hear it through the thin walls of our new apartment.
* * *
—
I tidy the pens on my desk, stack the books I have to study for my driver’s license, and push my chair in.
It’s pitch dark outside; inside too.
I’d like to turn on the light, but then Julie will know I’m not asleep yet. Last week she asked if I often have trouble sleeping. I don’t know what she wants from me.
Does she want to see me cry?
I eat, drink, move, but nothing feels real anymore.
Until this afternoon.
Alissa felt real.
Now I’m thinking about her again.
I lie down on my bed and turn my head to one side. I’m staring directly into my wardrobe mirror. I often hang something over it, but it’s not covered now.
I see my hair, my lips…the looks that have helped me so often. People in grocery stores are always extra friendly. Teachers help me out if my grades are falling a little short. And girls will do just about anything for me.
But my face isn’t going to bring anyone back.
And what about Alissa?
Can she fix anything?
I think about Karla, the last girl who was in this room. She lay with me on this bed, under these sheets.
We talked about the future.
What we wanted to do, what we wanted to be.
Because we were sure we were going to get old together.
I had a future with her, but I destroyed it.
And I’ll destroy Alissa too.
I need to stay far, far away from her.
The light’s been off for a while.
It must be asleep by now.
Without any nightmares.
I’m the one with the nightmares.
Over and over and over.
And every time the same.
I turn around,
because I can’t stand here all night.
Today I finally got what I was hoping for.
There was such a slim chance
that this must be the sign.
On Friday afternoon, I’m happy when I can finally leave school. I know I shouldn’t be mad at Alissa, but I still am.
She’s in love with the wrong person. Why can’t she see that?
I head into the employees-only section at the pizzeria and, as I’m putting on my apron, I spot a flyer on the table.
Curious, I read the words.
SUPER-REALISTIC ESCAPE ROOM!
THE HAPPY FAMILY
THE DOOR SHUTS.
YOU HAVE SIXTY MINUTES.
BUT WHERE WILL YOU START LOOKING?
FIND THE CLUES! CRACK THE CODES! SOLVE THE PUZZLES!
CAN YOU ESCAPE WITHIN AN HOUR?
BUT BE WARNED:
THIS IS NERVE-RACKING, BLOOD-CHILLING, HEART-STOPPING!
NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART OR THE FEEBLE OF BRAIN!
THE HAPPY FAMILY IS DESIGNED FOR GROUPS OF AT LEAST 4 PEOPLE.
(THIS ESCAPE ROOM IS TERRIFYINGLY TENSE!)
I read the flyer three times to let it all sink in. The word “super-realistic” has sucked me in. I always think the haunted houses at the county fair are ridiculously fake, but this? This is something I have to do.
Maybe, just maybe, just for a moment, I’ll forget the photo on my nightstand when I’m in this Escape Room. And maybe I’ll forget that those blue eyes will never look at me the way I want them to.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
I turn around and see Miles. He points at the flyer in my hand. “What’s that?”
I’m mad at him too, maybe even more than I am at Alissa. Those longing looks he was giving her yesterday. I just can’t bring myself to look at Caitlin that way, no matter how hard I try.
I stuff the flyer into my jeans pocket. “Nothing.”
* * *
—
Alissa and Mint are waiting outside when I leave work later. Alissa’s piercing twinkles away at me. Like she wasn’t pretty enough already.
“You coming to the movie?” Alissa asks.
“Got a date with Caitlin.” The moment I say it, I feel nervous again. Recently I’ve had the feeling that Caitlin wants to go further than just kissing. I know I should want the same, but I can’t do it. My mind’s on someone else.
“Things are pretty serious with you two, huh?”
I make a strange noise that could mean anything. A quick change of subject.
“Want to go here next Friday?” I pull the flyer for the Escape Room out of my pocket.
Alissa frowns. “What is it?”
“Oh, I’ve heard about that!” To my surprise, Mint pulls the leaflet out of my hand. “You have to solve puzzles so you can escape.”
“And that’s your idea of fun?” Alissa raises an eyebrow.
Mint nods. “Sounds cool.”
Alissa exchanges a quick glance with me. She’s clearly thinking the same thing I am: Mint’s too timid to do anything. She usually stays at home when we have a school trip, and Alissa and I go to the fair on our own every year because Mint says the rides make her nauseous. She rarely visits me at work, always claiming she has a stomachache or headache.
“Fine by me,” Alissa says.
I point to the bottom half of the flyer. “We just need a fourth person.”
“Caitlin?” Mint suggests.
Being with Caitlin already feels like one big real-life Escape Room.
“Or Miles?” Alissa says.
I curse to myself. No way I want to spend sixty minutes watching those two getting closer.
“Then there’ll be four of us.” Alissa looks at me. “Shall I ask him?”
* * *
—
I’m lying with Caitlin on my single bed. There’s a movie on the TV, but I’m hardly taking in anything about the plot.
Alissa asked Miles to come with us, and so on Friday next week I’ll be locked up with the two of them for an hour.
How could I be so dumb? Why did I even mention the Escape Room?
“That was good.” Caitlin yawns and stretches. I only notice now that the credits are rolling. I completely missed the end of the movie.
“How about we go to sleep now?”
I look up, startled. “We?”
Caitlin hardly dares to look at me as she whispers, “I brought my pajamas.”
I knew this was going to happen, but I’m not ready.
Caitlin disappears into the hallway, into our bathroom. I have to think of something, but what? I’ve already told her twice that I wasn’t feeling good.
Caitlin comes back in wearing a nightgown made of some kind of shiny fabric. It looks new. I wonder if she bought it especially for me.
“Are you going to sleep in your jeans?” she asks.
Oh yeah, that’s right—my clothes need to come off too. I get off the bed and pull down my jeans, but keep my T-shirt and boxer shorts on for safety.
Giggling, Caitlin climbs under my comforter. “You coming?”
Maybe it’s like bad cough medicine: sometimes just downing it in one gulp is the best approach.
I turn off the light and feel my way to my bed. I’m surprised by how soft Caitlin is. Soft legs, soft arms, soft stomach.
“So here we are, then,” I say.
Caitlin takes my hands and puts them over her breasts. I can feel her stiff nipples through the fabric of her nightgown.
I realize I should be doing something, so I start kneading them on automatic pilot as if they’re made of pizza dough.
Caitlin’s hand slides down and she feels between my legs.
No, no, no. This shouldn’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
I hear the front door. My mom and dad are back from their night out with friends.
“Hey, my mom and dad are home,” I say. “We can’t do anything now. Their bedroom’s right next door!”
It’s quiet for a moment, and then Caitlin whispers, “Too bad.”
I hold in a sigh of relief. For now, I’m safe.
“Yeah, too bad.”
Caitlin cuddles up close to me and puts her head on my chest. Before long, she’s snoring quietly, with her leg over mine.
It’s hours before I fall asleep.
Not long to wait, and then it’ll be Friday.
Friday. Free day.
And finally I’ll be free.
I said yes.
I’m going with Alissa to the Escape Room. What else was I supposed to do?
I can’t get her out of my head. On Monday, I think I see her walking through town. I race after her on my scooter, but it turns out to be someone else.
On Tuesday, I find the documentary she’s in on the internet, and I watch it five times in a row.
Wednesday night, I dream that I’m kissing her and wake up with drool on my pillow.
On Thursday, the waiting’s driving me crazy and I tear through the meadows on my scooter. When I open the visor of my helmet, the fresh fall wind hits my face.
I have to stop this. Nothing’s going to happen between me and Alissa. It’s doomed to fail.
In the middle of the meadows, I brake and kick down the stand. I pull the helmet off my head.
There’s a bench just like the one in the park where I met Alissa last week.
At first, I hoped I was just making her prettier in my head than she really is. But every time I paused the documentary, her blue eyes looked deep into mine.
Karla used to look at me like that when we were still together.
Whenever I think about Alissa, I automatically think about Karla.
That last time, she looked at me like I was a stranger. She was terrified of me. And no matter what I said, I couldn’t make it up to her.
It’s going to end just as dramatically with Alissa, maybe even worse.
I can feel this huge rage bubbling up inside me.
Why can’t I just get on with my life? Why does everything from back then keep chasing me around like a swarm of wasps?
I swing my helmet backward with a big sweep of my arm and thump it onto the bench a few times with a succession of dull thuds.
I shatter my memories into splinters.
I’ve had stomach pains all week, someone else’s stomach pains. I can’t think who they’re coming from, but they’re getting worse every day. By Thursday afternoon, it’s like I swallowed a razor blade. When I’m out cycling in the meadows, I actually have to stop for a moment and clutch my stomach with both hands.
I groan as another stabbing pain shoots through me. What on earth is this?
Then I’m startled by a scream somewhere very close to me. My view is blocked by a big bush, but as I walk toward the sound, I see a boy standing by a bench. He slams a helmet onto the wood twice, three times.
Then he hurls the helmet away, and it rolls into a ditch. A couple of ducks fly up into the air, terrified.
I’m about to get back onto my bike, but then I see who it is.
Miles.
He slumps down onto the bench and covers his face with his hands. Is he crying?
My stomach’s suddenly so painful that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from screaming. I double over behind the bush and breathe deeply.
So now I know who the pain’s coming from. What’s wrong with Miles? My nose was hurting last week because of Alissa’s piercing, but that was nothing in comparison. My stomach feels like I’m being ripped open from the inside.
Someone’s approaching in the distance. A woman. As she gets closer, I see it’s the same jogger from the park last week. I recognize her by the red scarf.
She’s reached Miles now, and she stops in her tracks. What’s she going to do? She’d be crazy to talk to Miles when he’s so mad.
But then I hear her quietly asking him something. She probably wants to know if he’s okay.
Miles takes his hands away from his face and lashes out at her. “What the hell do you want?”
I back away. The woman does the same. I hear her saying something else, but I can’t make out what it is.
“No!” Miles’s voice sounds really furious now. “You heard me, didn’t you? Get the hell away from me!”
The woman runs on, and I stand there behind the bush, frozen. Why was Miles yelling at a stranger like that?
I think about Alissa, who seems to like him. I’m sure she’d change her mind if she saw that.
I look at Miles, who is staring into the distance. In the park, he didn’t even introduce himself to me, as if I was invisible, but being in
visible does have its advantages.
I make myself scarce.
* * *
—
Alissa is just coming out her front door when I get there. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
All the way to her place, I’ve been debating with myself what I should do, but the bad feeling I got about Miles made my mind up for me.
I take a deep breath. “I’d just like to talk to you for a moment.”
Alissa grabs her bike, which is leaning against the front of the house. “Now? What about?”
“About Miles.”
“Oh, well, speak of the devil. He just sent me a message to ask if I wanted to go over to his place for dinner so we can get to know each other a bit better before tomorrow.”
It’s like a hundred alarm bells going off in my body at once.
“Don’t go,” I blurt out.
Alissa frowns. “Why not?”
I have absolutely no evidence against him. It’s more of a hunch. There’s something about Miles, something that’s not right.
That look in his eyes—it gives me the shivers.
But is that enough to convince Alissa to cancel her date?
“Just be careful, okay?”
Alissa bursts out laughing. “With Miles? I know who you got that panicky stuff from, but seriously, you’re being a bit of a drama queen.”
* * *
—
I look at myself in the mirror and see two big green eyes. Alissa’s remark hurts. I know my mom panicked last week because I was late, but that’s bad enough. Alissa doesn’t need to compare me to her.
And at the same time I’m wondering about it. Is that how everyone sees me?
I look at my reflection again. The girl who looks back is nondescript, a nothing. Alissa is exactly the opposite. You have to look at her, whether you want to or not. Sky’s also pretty striking, with his piercings and the clothes he wears, but me?
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