“No—Monica—my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” I repeat. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”
Jeremy scoffs. “Actually I do. I told you all of this when we went out a week ago. You don’t remember?”
A week ago? I wrinkle my nose, trying to think back. “We went out? You and me?”
Jeremy sighs. “Not just you and me. There were a bunch of us from the office. We went to Jay’s?”
Vaguely the memory of a dark bar flashes in my mind, along with a cacophony of noise. Numerous faces surround me, but I can’t identify anyone. Is he sure I was there? I can’t imagine going out with everyone.
Another image comes to mind of a fuzzy silver tiara followed by a much sharper picture of a girl standing on the edge of a plane, clad in goggles and a bright green jumpsuit. I remember watching her launch herself out of the plane, whooping along with the stranger as we fell through the air. What a rush! So much better than sitting in a dingy bar. My thoughts flicker to the other image, the tiara. Was it someone’s birthday? “Oh yeah, it was for um…Tiffany?”
“Tiffany’s birthday, yeah. Monica met us there. I even introduced you.”
“Really?” I gasp. Why can’t I remember her? “I guess she isn’t very memorable,” I joke.
Jeremy’s blue eyes harden. “Or maybe you’re too wrapped up in that thing clinging to your neck,” he snarls. “You don’t even remember; I can tell when you’re lying. You need to wake up, Maggie, before you realize you’ve thrown your whole life away.” He turns away from me and the pretzel cart and begins walking.
My heart rate quickens. “Wait! Jeremy, wait!” I call, waving my arm in the air. I picture his bright eyes, imagine his rough laugh. He could have been mine. Maybe he still can be.
Jeremy doesn’t turn around, doesn’t stop his momentum. I break into a run, eager to catch up as the Vertix automatically launches Serenade. An upbeat song by Roxy spills from my mind as adrenaline pumps through my veins.
I reach forward and my fingers graze his gray pea coat, the same coat he was wearing when I met him. I speed up my pace until I have a grip on it. He jerks to the left but I hold fast and he slows to a stop.
“What the hell? Maggie, what are you doing?” Jeremy asks, prying my fingers off his coat.
Without thinking I propel myself forward, caught up in Roxy’s sweet lyrics and poppy melody, and throw my arms around Jeremy’s neck. I press my lips against him without grace, hitting his chin before finding his lips. The music video is too large. I close my eyes and let go of all thought as Roxy cheers me on.
For a moment Jeremy feels stiff, but then, as if caught up in the music too, he begins to relax. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer and I mold my frame against his solid build.
We stand there for a moment, locked in a delicious embrace. It feels so good to have a pair of real hands encircling my back, to feel the warmth of another person so close, to taste the heady scent of him. This is so much better than Hot Love. With the app I can feel my partner, but his touches are wispy, light, all in my mind. Jeremy is real, real and wonderful and perfect. I run my tongue along his lip, marveling at how well I fit in his arms.
Nothing matters. I don’t care about being fired. I don’t care that he has a girlfriend. Right now it’s just him and me, lost in the moment. I trace his jawline with the tip of my nose, nibbling his ear. “Ah, Marco, I want you,” I whisper, caught up in his musky scent.
Instantly Jeremy’s warm hands still and vanish from my skin. He jerks away, ending our passionate kiss. My eyelids flutter open as Roxy sings her last note. “What?” I ask as Jeremy’s expression hardens. “Are you all right?”
“Who’s Marco?” Jeremy asks, his voice cold.
“Marco?” I repeat. How the hell does he know about him? “What do you mean?”
“You just said, ‘Marco, I want you,’” Jeremy repeats, his voice rough. “As you can see, I’m not Marco. I’d be interested to know which guy you’re thinking about while kissing me.”
My gaping mouth likely resembles a dying fish. No. Please tell me I didn’t just do that! “Um, ah, Marco is my frie—”
“Don’t say friend,” Jeremy barks, cutting me off. “Don’t insult me.”
I shake my head, my eyes wide. What do I do? How do I save this? Just tell him the truth.
My shoulders sag under the heavy weight of the truth. “He’s this guy that I’ve been seeing for the past few weeks,” I admit.
“Seeing or sleeping with?” Jeremy asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Sleeping with I guess, but it’s through this app, I’ve never really met him in person,” I confess, the words tumbling out of my mouth. “He doesn’t matter, we can just—”
“You’re sleeping with him through an app? What the hell does that even mean? No, wait, I don’t want to know,” Jeremy says, throwing up his hands.
“Wait, Jeremy, please. I’m not…I don’t…” I try to form the syllables on my tongue. Try to think of anything to make him stay, to make him want me.
He takes a few steps away. “No, I don’t want to hear any excuses, any lies. I’m done, Maggie, with…whatever this is or could have been. I have a girlfriend. A beautiful, funny, real girlfriend. I don’t know where it’s going, but I know one thing for sure. If Monica and I don’t make it, I can at least say I tried. Rather than hiding behind a bunch of wires and a one-way screen,” Jeremy says.
“But, I can—I don’t need—it’s not—” I try, but it doesn’t matter. Jeremy isn’t stopping.
“Have a good life, Maggie,” he calls over his shoulder.
I shove my hands into my coat pockets and turn in the direction of the subway. It doesn’t matter anyway.
• • • • •
My knuckles rap on the metal door, creating a hollow echo in the abandoned hallway. “Andy, open up!” Silence greets my shout. I know he’s in there. “Andy! I’m not going away.”
Heavy footsteps rumble on the other side of the door. Andy opens the door and a whoosh of air sends a soft breeze in my direction. It’s been a week since I’ve seen him. I think Sarah’s been coming over here instead. An unpleasant smell like old cheese wafts toward me. I wrinkle my nose but step across the threshold as Andy steps back to allow me in.
“Hey, Sis, what are you doing here?” Andy asks, rubbing his eyes. His red Vertix sits on the back of his neck.
I shrug, closing the door behind me. The smell is much worse now, but underneath it is something familiar that I can’t place. My eyes roam around the apartment. Andy has always been messy but he’s taken it to a new extreme now. Dirty shirts and dish rags cover the floor in wrinkled heaps, as if they’re covering up something sinister. Empty white cartons that once held Chinese food litter the coffee table and the floor around the trash can. The lid is slightly elevated from the mounting trash beneath it and I can hear the quiet buzz of a fly over the sad wails of Damien White. I pause Serenade and look at my brother.
He looks a little worse than usual. Maybe he has the flu. “I got off work early and thought I’d come see how you were doing. I haven’t seen you at my place lately. Though I’m shocked Sarah doesn’t yell at you to clean this place up or do it herself. It reeks,” I tease, tapping the cardboard lid of an empty pizza box.
Andy grins without looking at me. “Yeah, no she isn’t thrilled with me at the moment. I really should clean up but…I’ve been busy.”
“I’ll say,” I scoff, brushing aside a blackened banana peel to sit down on the couch. “So what’d you do this time?” I ask, leveling him with a stare.
“Nothing.” Andy frowns, crossing his thin arms over his chest.
“Of course. Girls just get mad for no reason,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Come on what’d you do?”
Andy glances up, his tagged blue eyes empty. “Nothing, like I said. A few days ago it was apparently our three-month anniversary and I didn’t get her anything.”
I grimace. “Oh no. Did she not like the e-card?”
Andy shakes his head. “I don’t know. She might have, if I got her one. I didn’t know what day it was.” he groans. “We were eating dinner, watching TV and she kept dropping all these hints. Then she gave me this little Patriots cosy-thing and sat there looking at me all wide-eyed. I asked her what was going on and she blew up. She started crying, saying I don’t care about her. It was awful. I was in the middle of a workout in my app, not really paying attention.” He sighs. “You can imagine how well that went over when I had to ask her to repeat herself.”
“Yikes,” I answer, knowing exactly what Sarah must have said. “And you guys haven’t talked since?” I think back to earlier this week. Has Sarah been crying? She seemed fine…I think. “So what did she do when you went to apologize?”
“Ah…I didn’t. I tried streaming a video but she wouldn’t even open it,” he says, sitting down on the couch beside me. His bare forearm presses against me. His skin is freezing.
“Well, duh. You have to physically go over and see her,” I admonish. “What is with you? Do you want to lose her?” Jeremy’s words come flooding back to me. At least I tried, at least she’s real. I ignore them.
“I thought about it, okay?” Andy says, rubbing his eyes again. “But every time…I don’t know. I’m an idiot.”
I nod in agreement as I pick at the fraying skin around my nails. They used to look so polished. Now raw pink skin decorates my cuticles.
“So what about your love life?” Andy asks. “Are you still seeing that Marco guy?”
My head snaps to the right. “How do you know about him?”
“Calm down, crazy. Sarah told me about him a while ago. She was upset because you met him through an app. I don’t know what her problem is with this stuff,” Andy continues, pointing to his neck. “Everyone meets people online. They’ve been doing it for years.”
“Yeah, but not everyone only interacts with that person online. At some point they eventually meet and start a normal relationship,” I add quietly.
Andy’s face furrows. “What do you mean? You’re not going to meet him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t have any plans to. Our relationship is working out just fine like this. More than fine, even.” My cheeks blush red. I don’t know why I just admitted that to my brother.
Andy is quiet for a minute as the truth of my words sink in. “Oh? Oh really?” he says, but he doesn’t sound disgusted like Sarah. He sounds…interested. “What’s that like?”
I shrug. “Pretty awesome actually. I see him whenever I want, I don’t have to worry about, ah…anything, and there’s none of this.” I chuckle, motioning to him. “We don’t really talk so there’s nothing to fight about.”
“Wow,” Andy whispers. “That does sound pretty cool. So is this guy real? Or is he like an animated Sim thing?”
I punch Andy’s shoulder, scowling. “Come on, give me some credit. It’s not like I’m sleeping with a cartoon. He’s real just like me. Just instead of hooking up at some sleazy motel, the Vertix brings us to any destination imaginable and then…” I trail off as embarrassment finds me again.
“Huh, interesting.”
We are quiet for a few minutes and then my stomach growls, gurgling orders at me. A diagram of the human body materializes before me, depicting an inside look at the many systems functioning inside. Tall white bars elongate beside me and it takes me a moment to realize they are illustrating the nutrients my body needs. I’ve only used the app one time. It started telling me to eat spinach and beans to increase iron in my diet, along with nearly every other vitamin my body needed. It was too much work. Now it keeps popping up on its own. I need to delete this stupid thing.
I push myself off the stained couch and head to the kitchen. I was wrong earlier. There are at least four flies scavenging the trash. “So what kind of food do you have?” I call, opening the first cupboard I come to. I imagine the salt-sprinkled pretzel as my stomach yells again. I glance in the first cupboard and find nothing but a dead fly.
I move to the next, hoping for at least a granola bar. Again and again I check the empty cupboards, finding nothing to satisfy. “Seriously, Andy when was the last time you went grocery shopping?” I try the last cupboard, standing on my tiptoes to reach it. At first, another barren shelf greets my gaze, but as my hungry eyes roam to the back, I see a light blue box, the beginning of a word scribbled on the front.
“Better than nothing,” I cry, jumping a little to reach the box. My fingers just miss it, tapping the corner with my ragged nail. The contents make a delicious shake. “Andy! Can you…oomph,” I shout, jumping again. “Can you come reach this?” I jump one more time but it’s no use, the box is pushed too far back. “Andy?”
He enters the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
A surge of serotonin ignites in my mind at the thought of food. The dumb diagram is up again, showing me little bright spots as the hormone multiplies. “Just come help. I can’t reach whatever’s in there.” I sigh, pointing to the tall cupboard.
Andy nudges me out of the way and extends his arm up, then pulls it back down and chuckles. “There’s nothing up here, Mags. It’s empty.”
“Yes there is,” I argue. “It’s all the way in the back. Look again.”
Andy sighs but complies, reaching back up into the dark cupboard. This time I hear the same dry rattle from before. “That’s it, see! Grab it!” I envision a giant bag of potato chips and almost smell the cheesy powder.
“This? This is what you’re so excited about?” Andy gasps, retrieving the box. “Here.” He hands me the dry pasta, the same dull look on his face.
I accept the box gratefully. It’s no bag of chips, but after a few minutes the warm noodles will taste like heaven. “What are you talking about, it’s pasta! Let’s cook this up and have some breakfast! Or is it lunch? I don’t know what time it is.” I laugh. Time, I instruct and large digital numbers flicker before me. “Okay, a late lunch,” I correct as the large 3:54 vanishes.
Andy leans against the low counter. “You’re going to eat that? I think that’s been up there since before I moved in.”
“So what,” I say, crossing to the fridge. “Noodles don’t go bad.” I pull on the handle, kicking on the pale-yellow light inside. My heart plummets as I take in the bare shelves and one half-filled bottle of water. “I shouldn’t even bother looking for sauce, huh?”
Andy shakes his head. “Nah, I haven’t had a chance to go shopping lately.”
“Join the club,” I growl, my hope for a hot meal fading. “That’s fine, I’ll just eat them plain. Where are your pots? I didn’t see any in the cupboards.”
Andy looks away, rubbing his eyes. “Ah, there was an incident and I ended up throwing all of them out the window,” he admits, looking down at his socked feet.
“An incident? With all your pans? What happ—”
Andy shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just go pick something up at the little store downstairs,” he instructs, wandering back to the couch where his imprint welcomes him.
I imagine walking down the four flights of stairs and waiting in line at the tiny deli. Then my eyes wander back to the box in my hands. I don’t think my stomach can wait any longer. Following Andy back into the cluttered living room, I sit down and wedge my finger under the cardboard lid. With a quick tug, I open the seal and peel back the two little flaps to unveil the crunchy noodles inside.
Maybe they won’t be so bad. I reach my hand inside and jostle around the noodles, my fingers ready to close on one nearest the top when a soft fluttering sensation grazes my skin. Instinctively I wrench my hand back, making room for a small horde of pale white moths to alight into the air. Before the Vertix can stop them, the frightening images of the yellow butterflies leap to the front of my mind. I can see them in my left eye while my right continues to look at the diagram of my body. A soft sound, like the rustling of paper reaches my ears and I drop the box, spilling noodles everywhere.
The Verti
x shows my heart rate is accelerating and adrenaline is pumping through my veins as the flight or fight response kicks in. I wave my arms above me, terrified that the butterflies will find me, will somehow climb down my throat once more.
Cold hands grab my wrists, holding them down against my thighs. “Maggie, chill. Everything’s fine,” Andy’s deep voice says.
A moment later, dopamine sparks in my mind, sending a soothing sensation through my body. The diagram depicts my muscles relaxing, my heart slowing. There’s no danger. It’s all right, Maggie, the Vertix soothes. I hold on to the velvet voice, already feeling better.
“What happened?” I ask, giving my head a little shake.
Andy bends down to retrieve the box, ignoring the numerous noodles that escaped. “I told you it was old. Careful, there might be more in there.”
I take the box from Andy, holding it far away to peer inside. There are still two or three dusty moths climbing over the yellowed noodles while another clings to the flimsy plastic window. “Why would you put moths in here?” I accuse.
“I don’t know,” Andy whispers, staring straight ahead. I no longer have his attention.
My empty stomach roils again. It sounds as if I’m about to tear in half. Revulsion blooms in the back of my mind but the Vertix refuses to let it fully form, keeping it at bay. Well, I’m starving. I can at least try.
I swallow my fear and insert my hand inside again, ignoring the papery wings. The tips of my fingers graze the noodles and I pull two out. These at least are moth free.
Andy’s head swivels back in my direction. “That’s nasty, Sis. Those things are probably swarming with moth eggs. Go get something across the street.”
I shake my head. If I don’t eat something fast, I’m convinced I’m going to die on Andy’s sunken couch. “Just stop talking,” I command. “This is already going to be hard enough without you making faces like that.” I raise the first noodle to my lips, the food unyielding and thick under my touch. I slide the noodle between my teeth and Andy’s hand reaches forward and smacks it out.
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