“So you found a new place,” I say, stating the obvious.
Sarah doesn’t stop her packing. “Yup. I’m moving into my friend’s place further uptown,” she replies.
“So what, I’m not your friend anymore?” I scoff, hearing how petty I sound and hating myself for it.
Sarah dumps several books into the bottom of the box, causing the bare mattress to bounce. “I thought that was obvious when you told me to fuck off,” Sarah says, not looking in my direction.
“When did I say that?”
“Three weeks ago,” Sarah answers. “I came home to find you still sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space like always. Remember? I tried shutting down the Vertix and you flipped out, just lost your shit like I tossed a baby out a window.”
I wrinkle my nose. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Are you sure that was me?”
Sarah laughs without humor. “Maggie, you haven’t been yourself for months, ever since you sold your soul to that stupid machine. Look, I’m not having this conversation again,” she says, shaking her head as she drops her jewelry box into the pile.
“What conversation?” I ask, letting my arms hang limp at my sides. “I didn’t think you were serious. I don’t want you to leave, Sar.”
“Well, it’s a little too late for that, Mags. I’m tired of living with a zombie. I want my happy, adventurous friend back, not this…” She waves one hand at me without looking in my direction.
I can only imagine what she sees when she looks at me. I clear my throat, turning down the singer’s raspy voice. “But you’re my best friend,” I whisper, but even to my ears it sounds fake, hollow.
Sarah continues to pack her remaining items. “Wish that meant something, huh? I’ll have my friend come by to get my bed and the dresser later this week. He’ll have my key so you won’t need to get up. I told him to leave it on the hook when he’s done. Give it to Andy I guess.” She pauses and looks at me, and her voice softens. “God, he looks awful—you both do. I know you’re not listening right now, but maybe there’s some small part of you still in there who can hear me.”
She moves closer, pausing about a foot away from me. She raises her arms and I think she’s going to hold my hands, but she pulls back at the last second. “Please, Maggie. Listen to me. Life is so much better outside of that machine. Get away from the screen, go live…before it’s too late,” she whispers, her gray eyes boring into mine.
I try to pay attention, but Lily V begins pulling me around in dizzying circles as another song kicks on. Why does she always leave me covered in glitter?
“Maggie?”
“What?” I ask, wrinkling my nose as a stuffed unicorn head butts me in the thigh. Can’t her videos ever be normal?
Sarah hangs her head and sighs, and before I can bring myself back to the present she has returned to her icy shell. “Forget it, forget everything. I’m going to make sure I have everything from the bathroom and then I’m gone,” she growls and brushes past me, wary not to brush up against me.
I don’t watch her go. I haven’t in the past so why start now? Instead I enter her room and perch on a corner of the bed not occupied by boxes. For a moment I can almost visualize those happy moments we shared in this room, but the memories are hazy and dull compared to the vibrancy of Wall Art. I turn and look inside one of the large cardboard boxes.
The objects inside aren’t organized in any way and it’s almost impossible to make anything out. Did she keep the little gifts I gave her over the years? Or did she throw them all away when our friendship started to crumble?
I hear the vanity doors bang shut. Sarah’s still kicking around the bathroom. My eyes zero back on the box and I spot a brilliant bright gold chain snaking through a mess of hair ties and other silver and black necklaces. I extract it from the jumbled mass. It’s the diamond necklace Sarah’s grandmother gave her right before she died.
Gritting my teeth, I lock my jaw and continue to stare at the beautiful diamond. In the light from above, the tiny faucets twinkle and gleam, showing off just how lovely and expensive it is. No. Don’t even think about it.
I cross my arms over my chest to keep from reaching out to hold the beautiful stone. I don’t steal from my friends. But the diamond continues to wink and glisten, almost daring me to take it. Would she even notice?
“Ah, listen to yourself!” I scold, disgusted, but unable to leave the room at the same time. “This is a family heirloom, not some junk from Claire’s. Leave it alone.” I force my eyes to look away and will my feet to move, but they stay where they are, not intimidated.
Will she even miss it? It was hidden beneath a pile of other necklaces, practically buried in dust. You’d be doing her a favor. Maybe she’s been meaning to sell it and just hasn’t gotten around to it. My thoughts start to weave dangerously through my mind, testing my resolve. Just take it.
The devil on my shoulder sings to me with a golden voice, making it impossible to ignore. I can always buy her another one if she gets upset. The angel on my other shoulder is nowhere to be found and the devil starts to dance with a new singer around the room.
“Fine!” I rasp and without another thought, I grab the large stone with the tips of my fingers and clutch it tightly in my fist. Standing, I rearrange the pile of necklaces, hoping Sarah won’t notice anything astray.
I take a step forward and pass her dresser, where a mirror is propped up against the wall. The girl looking back at me is tired and worn, but there is a mischievous smile blossoming on her lips that makes her whole face light up. With this diamond, I’ll be set for weeks. I grin at my reflection and turn up the music to drown out the gnawing guilt beginning in my gut.
Hurried footsteps sound on the wood floor and I step away from the dresser and bed toward the door, tucking the diamond necklace into my ratty pocket. I move to a position inches away from where Sarah left me, and focus my eyes on a blank spot on the wall. Were my arms crossed or at my sides? Sarah’s white coat appears in the corner of my vision and I shove my hands into my pocket while Hannah sings about deception. Shut up, Hannah.
Sarah eyes me. “Oh, you’re still here.” She frowns and crosses over to the bed, dumping several brushes and a hair dryer on top of the rest of her junk. My fingers curl around the gold metal, the chain biting into my skin like a venomous snake.
Tell her, tell her you took it!
Another voice drowns it out, rich and smooth as honey. She doesn’t want it, she doesn’t even know it’s there. Imagine how much Paul will give you for it. You could connect for the rest of the month.
“Yeah, well I hope you have fun at your new place,” I say, clearing my throat as I grasp the necklace a little tighter. “I’ll let you finish.”
Sarah stops trying to rearrange the hair dryer so it lies flat and looks in my direction. I turn away and retreat to the kitchen where Andy is sitting in my chair, staring at the white wall with a small carton of yogurt clutched in his hand. I pull out the chair beside him and interlace my fingers on the table. A sour odor wafts toward me and I sniff the unpleasant air.
“Andy, where did you find that?” I ask, plugging my nose.
“What?” Andy asks.
“I don’t think you should eat that,” I say, pointing to the half-eaten carton. Pull up calendar. My bonus should have been here by now. The Vertix pulls up my calendar and relates that it’s January third. Maybe they haven’t posted it yet.
“What?” Andy repeats, closing his eyes.
“What?” I say, trying to remember what time last year we received our bonus. Maybe next week, once everyone gets back from the holidays. I settle down in my chair. I should shower, but it’s so much work. I’ll get up in a few minutes. Launch My World, I have to see how Melissa’s vacation in Ireland is going.
Images of rolling green hills and cobblestone streets fill my vision, along with my friend’s happy face. She had invited me on the trip but I declined. At that point I was busy working on my manuscript and didn’t
think I’d have any free time around the holidays to travel. Ironic how things change. Now I have nothing but free time.
After a few minutes I hear Sarah’s boots clack across the tile. I turn my head and see her struggling under the weight of the large box. I open my mouth and raise my hand, but she ignores me, crossing to the door in three long strides to clear the lemonade still pooling on the floor. She shifts the box to her other hand and grabs the handle, pulling it open with a hard yank. The frosty wind blows the door wide and several snowflakes dance and twist on the breeze. I follow the flakes as they float lazily through the air, then dissolve into the lemonade.
Sarah glances over at us, a conflicted look in her eyes. I look away before we make eye contact, but I can sense a cold disappointment radiating from her that has nothing to do with the arctic air blowing toward me.
“Whatever,” Sarah scoffs and steps through the door. The wind shifts and the door slams shut.
Andy shivers and blinks, coming back to the present. He coughs and pushes the carton of sour yogurt toward me. “Want some?” he asks.
I shrug and accept the purple and white cup. “Yeah, all right.” I withdraw the spoon and raise the thick yogurt to my mouth, swallowing as my friend Melissa shows me a panoramic shot of Blarney Castle. The yogurt feels bumpy on my tongue. Mm-hmm, this is pretty good.
• • • • •
“Okay, I’m heading out!” I shout, stepping into my moccasins.
You’re going to want to wear something more substantial than that, Weather Cat purrs, licking his blue fur. Haven’t you looked outside?
“No, there’s nothing out there I want to see,” I grumble, kicking off my comfy moccasins in exchange for my tight snow boots.
Tsk tsk tsk. Weather Cat sighs. Put a hat and mittens on too. The wind chill is going to get nasty. Your little virtual campfire won’t do anything to warm you out there.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I say, picking up two different gloves. I throw a purple beanie over my damp hair and tuck my keys in my pocket. “Do you need anything while I’m out?” I call to Andy in the next room but only silence greets me. “Okay, bye then,” I say under my breath. I bend down and grab the large bag full of kitchen utensils and random objects I found in my room.
Last week I brought Paul my KitchenAide Mixer and several cookie sheets. He was excited about the mixer but paid me for the cookie sheets grudgingly. I peek in the bag and adjust the whisk poking out between the toaster and the spatula. Hopefully the weather won’t prevent Paul from opening. Not that a closed sign has stopped me before.
I pull open the door and shiver as the icy cold grips me. “Oh heck no,” I say, my teeth chattering. This is crazy, go back inside and snuggle on the couch. Watch a movie. You can go to Paul’s tomorrow when the wind calms down. I begin to shut the door when Andy shuffles into the kitchen.
“Hey…Jesus, shut that would you?” Andy says, wrapping his thin arms around his torso. I comply, ignoring Weather Cat’s smug expression. “Why are you going out there?”
I set my bag back down and roll my eyes. “You told me this morning you were almost out of funds. I don’t know how that’s possible because I just gave you money last week. How are you burning through your money so fast?”
Andy shrugs, filling up a glass of water and raising it to his lips. His perception is off though and he ends up dumping most of it on the front of his shirt. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying out this new app. It’s called Alpha Foxtrot. It’s so cool, Mags. It puts you right in the middle of whatever war you want. I was just a solider in World War I. I shot down three Germans! It’s awesome! A ton of blood and guts though,” he says, taking another sip. This time he manages to swallow it.
I wrinkle my nose. “What happens if you get shot?”
Andy sets the glass in the crowded sink and leans against the counter. “I just respawn, kind of like a video game. It hurts like hell though. Some German stabbed me with a bayonet when I came out of the trenches earlier this morning. I felt it, right here,” Andy says, patting the base of his throat. “It was pretty rough.”
A gruesome image fills my mind as I picture Andy being skewered to death, lying in a pool of blood. “It’s pretty nasty out there.” I grimace, turning the deadbolt. I pull my hat off, my damp hair frizzing from the static. “Is it okay if I don’t go out today? You can make it a while?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I still have plenty,” Andy says, waving away my concern.
I shed my gloves and throw my winter gear into the box near the door as the wind whistles outside the kitchen window.
Good choice, Weather Cat purrs. In an hour or so, freezing rain will start, but tomorrow the sun will be out with hardly any clouds.
“Works for me,” I say, dumping my coat on the kitchen table. We stand there for a minute while Weather Cat chuckles in the back of my mind. “So, I guess I’ll see you later.”
Andy exhales in obvious relief. “Yeah, see you,” he says, exiting the kitchen toward the living room.
Have you two spent any time together since he moved in? Weather Cat purrs, arching his dark blue eyebrow.
I scoff and kick my boots off. “Yeah, like all the time.”
Right, Weather Cat says with an eye roll. So what’s on the agenda now that you’ve abandoned your perilous task?
I glance around the grimy kitchen, eyeing the growing pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “Well I know what I don’t want to do.” I sigh. I should at least attempt to wash some, but my legs are sore. “I think I’ll just go sit down. I was scrolling the other day on My World and this girl was talking about a new app. Have you heard of In It?”
No. I have better things to do, Weather Cat points out.
“Oh shut up,” I say with a chuckle. Deciding to leave the dishes for another day, I head for my room.
So was there a point to your story? Weather Cat continues.
“Wow, you’re really crabby today. What’s got your tail in a twist?” I scoff as I pad down the hallway.
Mm-hmm, I guess I’m just hoping for a change of scenery. The tabby sighs. All I ever see is this apartment. Remember when you used to travel? I loved giving the report of the shifting tides at the beach and the pulsing heat as the thermometer climbed in the triple digits when we went out to Arizona for that conference. I guess I’m just nostalgic for the old days.
I roll my eyes and run my fingers down his virtual tail, smiling as he puffs up his fur in annoyance before allowing a reluctant purr. “As I was saying, this new app lets you go back to any point in time and participate rather than just look at it! I can’t wait to try it out. I’ve been itching to since this morning. Do you want to go with me?” I ask hopefully as I collapse on my bed. It’d be so nice to get out and go somewhere with a friend.
Weather Cat shrugs his small shoulders. I suppose. I’m not doing anything else.
I close my eyes, snuggling deeper into my pillow. Launch In It, I order.
Of course, the Vertix says.
Oh, I’m so excited! Where do you want to go first? I grin, turning to where Weather Cat sits near my leg.
How about somewhere…rustic? I’m in the mood for some heat in all this wretched snow, the tabby grumps.
“Rustic,” I whisper and the app flickers as if I’ve punched the magic button.
My bedroom disappears and I’m standing in a sea of swirling reddish-brown dust. I can barely make out towering gray shadows through the haze. Once it settles, I realize I’m staring at a small town, the buildings all crafted of wood and steel. A jaunty tune flows out of the paneless windows in one of the nearby shops, followed by the whinnying of several horses.
“Weather Cat, we’re in the Wild West!” I say, taking a step closer to the double doors of the saloon. Two grizzled men in filthy clothes lean against the open porch, leering in my direction. I shrink back from their unblinking stares, noting their thick beards, grimy hands, and bulging bottom lips, no doubt stuffed with chewing tobacco. The wind shifts, blowing thei
r foul stench toward me.
Lovely, you’ve brought us back to a time when only the wealthy used soap. The blue tabby grimaces. His long tail flickers through the parched earth, causing a little cloud of dust to rise.
“Whatever, this is so cool, what an adventure,” I tell him.
Yes, Weather Cat says, picking his paw up as large tumbleweeds blow by. Nice dress by the way.
“What?” I glance down and almost choke. Soft red cloth is wrapped around my petite frame, somehow giving me the appearance of thick curves. I run the material between my fingers and twirl, loving the way the knee-length skirt dances along with me. My fingers trail upward. The dress’s sleeves hug the skin above my elbows, leaving my shoulders bare. My pale skin sparkles in the bright sun, but here I look beautiful and fresh, rather than sallow and sickly. Black heels prop me up above the searing sand and for the first time in a long time I feel sexy.
May I suggest we get inside? Those men are looking at you like hungry wolves, Weather Cat growls.
Glancing up from under my lashes, I see what the tabby is talking about. One of the men, with the less scraggly beard, spits a long stream of dark brown chew into the dirt. He raises his eyes to mine and smiles, the few yellow teeth he has caked with brown juice.
“Hey, you ain’t from round these parts,” the man says, taking a step toward me.
“She sure is pretty.” The other man grins, jumping off the porch. His spurs laugh with the movement.
Run, Maggie. Get inside the saloon quickly, Weather Cat cautions, slinking between the cowboys’ boots.
“Excuse me, fellas, but I’m actually late,” I say, sliding past them with a wide berth.
The two men chuckle and spin on their heels, watching as I pass. As I push through the swinging doors of the saloon I hear them spit again.
Several heads turn as I stumble inside, my heel getting caught in a small rut between two planks of wood. As gracefully as I can, I right myself and walk over to the bar, aware of the numerous eyes following my movement. The joyous piano music continues, creating a light and happy atmosphere. I glance over and see a young woman with strawberry blonde curls playing the instrument, a bright smile on her cherry lips.
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