Sex, Marry, Kill

by Travis, Todd

  She almost smiled. Almost. “Are you asking me out?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Mostly I’m asking what you’re doing later tonight.”

  “What I’m usually doing on a Saturday night. Sitting alone in my room, trying not to slit my wrists, listening to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band. What are you usually doing on a Saturday night?”

  “I usually have some stops to make, but that’s it.”

  “You have to sell some DRUGS.”

  “Kind of, yeah. That’s what I do on the weekends. Then I go back to the foster home and watch really bad television with everyone else. I have a curfew, most of the time, but I’ve found ways around that from time to time. They act tough, but they’re counting the days until I turn eighteen, just like me.”

  “It’s not so glamorous, the life of a drug dealer. And he’s asking me out.”

  “No, it’s pretty miserable, at least the kind of dealing I do.”

  “Like most things.”

  “Yeah. So … want some company later?”

  She didn’t answer right away as she thought about it.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Why didn’t I what?”

  “Why didn’t you grab a ticket on the Linda Sue Harris train?”

  “Not my kind of ride. And she’s not my type.”

  “I thought that didn’t matter to guys.”

  “It doesn’t matter to most guys. It does to me.”

  She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, staring at him.

  “I don’t really want any company.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean, it’s just not my thing.”

  “Okay. I get it. I understand.”

  “But …”

  “But?”

  “Thanks for asking.”

  Valerie put her sunglasses on, cranked up the music and turned around walking in the other direction. Darin watched her go.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I MADE ROGER FUCK EVERY ONE OF THE OLD CAFETERIA LADIES, EVEN THE ONE WITH THE HUGE MOLE ON HER FACE, YOU KNOW, THE MOLE THAT HAD THAT SINGLE DANGLING FACIAL HAIR? ROGER HIT THAT SHIT, BOYEEE!” – text message from Shakes.

  Chapter Thirty

  Darin threaded through the downtown area with its shops and walking mall, lost in his own thoughts. He turned a corner and didn’t see Goodwin until it was too late.

  “Detention Johnson,” Goodwin said and grinned. He leaned against an outside pillar. He had a pack of jocks with him, in fact, the usual letter-jacketed jackals that followed him everywhere. Roger was there, as was Wally and Tony and a few others.

  “Saw you laughing during Healy’s services yesterday. I didn’t like it.”

  “I bet you didn’t. But I don’t care. Healy was an asshole. And clearly he didn’t think much of you, either.”

  “Somebody cut and pasted that shit, did some digital tricks to make it seem like he said that, but I know coach would never say that about me. Do you know who did it?”

  “No. I wish I did. But I don’t.”

  Goodwin stared at him, then grinned again. “I believe you.”

  He stood up straight and casual. His group fanned out and circled.

  “We got some business, don’t we?”

  “What business is that?”

  “You know. Birkland told me he got some shit from you, just last night. Which means you owe me some dollars. Twenty percent, to be exact. And I need some more supplies of my own. So let’s go, sport.”

  “Look, man, why would you want to be in this business? It’s nothing but trouble. You’re a jock, you’re on the college track, probably a scholarship, why mess with that? Dude, you’re the BMOC, right? This kinda shit can only fuck your future up.”

  “Hell, Detention, I’m fucking touched that you care about my future, I well and truly am. But I think I’m gonna do this anyway. More dollars in my pocket is always a good thing, and I like the product, too.”

  “I can’t do that. It doesn’t make sense for me financially to take on a partner.”

  Goodwin looked to his friends. “Notice how he drops the tough guy act when he’s here all alone? I told you he’s a bitch,” Goodwin hitched his pants up. “It may not make sense for you FINANCIALLY to take me on as a partner, but it does make sense for your health and wellness, Detention. Pay up, now, before I put a boot up your ass.”

  Darin felt a flash of something, deep inside. A veteran of many a foster home, he’d been in more than his fair share of fights and scuffles and knew the rule was, being outweighed and outnumbered was never good. That whole canard of it’s not the size of the dog in a fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog, that was complete and utter bullshit, a lie invented by bigger guys to goad smaller ones into battles they would not win.

  There was nothing tough about taking an avoidable beating. The smart play was to give Goodwin a little something now, agree to the deal to get his guard down and set him up for a bust later. The really tough guys were smart enough to play the long game. Darin had been in this situation before and every time had made it out both whole and victorious by playing smart and long and keeping his cool.

  But something internally pushed him in a different direction. Something dark spoke for him and took over.

  “Jason, you’re making a serious mistake here. You know? Because you think this is just a schoolyard thing, like, you’ll beat me up and I’ll whine and grovel and give you what you want? Because that’s the life you’ve lived, right, you’ve cruised through your years just pounding anyone you had to in order in your way, but most of them were just smaller versions of you. And by that I mean, soft, spoiled and dumb.”

  Goodwin couldn’t believe it, he turned to his friends, mouth open in amused surprise. “Soft? You hear this little bitch? He called me soft!”

  “Hey man, I’m sure you’ve won a lot of fistfights, but they were over what? Nothing. You didn’t like someone and they didn’t like you and you tussled and maybe got a bruise and that’s it. But it had little to no impact on your life. Were any of your fights life or death? I mean, have you ever stabbed someone, HAD to stab them, had no choice, did it and felt the blade go into their body? Felt their blood gush out over your hands. Have you ever been in a situation where you knew you had to take someone out, that it was either you or them, life or death? Have you ever stalked someone for days, found out where they lived, memorized their daily habits until you had them down cold, so you knew when they were coming and going, got it so you knew you could sneak into their home late at night if you had to, stood in their bedroom and watched them sleep?”

  Darin was on a roll now, the words pouring out of him in an avalanche. It was almost like he wasn’t in control anymore. He leaned forward.

  “Have you ever cut the brake lines on a person’s car? Put rat poison in their drink? Have you ever, ever planned and executed some lethal form of payback because you had to? Have you ever lit someone’s house on fire? I’m talking, lit that shit up, stood back and watched it burn down to the ground with them still inside, simply because that was the cleanest, most efficient way to remove the threat that they represented, have you ever done that?”

  Darin hawked and spit at the ground. His eyes and manner were transformed. “I’m sure you can bench press more than me, carry a football a whole lot farther, you can probably even beat me up in a fair fight, I don’t doubt it. But this ain’t a football field, a basketball court, or a schoolyard. And it’s sure as fuck not a fair fight, if such a thing exists. This is the real shit we’re talking about and nobody, nobody fights fair in the real shit. You want to be in my business, maybe you should ask yourself, are you willing to do any of the things I mentioned, are you willing to get neck deep in the real shit? Or, even more, ask yourself if you’re willing to risk having any of those specific actions directed at you? You got a pretty good life here. Ready to flush that shit right down the toilet? Because you might have to, you know. That’s the price of playing this game. You su
re want to take that kind of chance? Because if you’re not, we know right here and now who the real bitch is, don’t we?”

  Goodwin took an involuntary step back. Nothing was said for a moment.

  “You’re a fucking psycho, Johnson. Fucking homicidal nutcase.”

  “Technically I’m what’s known as a troubled teen. Either way, I’m totally not someone you would want to be in business with.”

  “No shit. Fucking stay away from me, and especially my house. Hear me?”

  Darin simply smiled.

  Goodwin glanced at his buddies and, as if by silent agreement, they all drifted away from Darin, cursing under their breath and shaking their heads at him. Darin shook it off, surprised at himself. He had no idea where that had come from. He’d set fires as a boy, as he mentioned, but all that he’d done was burn the toys that were given to him by his fosters. He’d never stabbed anyone, any fights he’d had were strictly teen-style fights where one boy pummeled the other and that was it. He had a rep as a delinquent, but it was all a posture, for the most part. He wanted no part of reform school.

  He thought he heard a baby’s cry, a faraway cry that was familiar. He turned and caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a nearby store window. He nearly didn’t recognize himself for a moment. One thing stood out. His hair was combed and slicked back. Darin usually let it just hang in his eyes.

  He had no memory of slicking it back. None whatsoever.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN,” – a text message from Valerie to the group.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “I FEEL FUNY,” the text from Ed arrived on Sunday night. Darin checked and saw it wasn’t a group message, it was only to him.

  He responded with “FUNNY HOW?”

  “DK, JST CANT STOP THINKING THINGS. WIERD THINGS.”

  “LIKE WHAT?”

  “I DONT WANT TO SAY. BAD THINGS.”

  Darin thought about it. He’d gotten a few texts from Shakes during the day, inviting him and the rest of the gang over for more fun and games, but he ignored them. He sent a text to Valerie, too, but she hadn’t yet replied.

  “DID YOU GO OVER TO SHAKES’S HOUSE THIS AFTERNOON AND PLAY THAT DAMN GAME AGAIN?”

  “NO, GRAM SIAD I HAD 2 STAY HOME TODY. I GOT HOM LATE LAST NITE, SHE WAS UPSET. AND I GOT UPSET.”

  “A LOT’S HAPPENED, HEALY DYING AND STUFF,” Darin wrote. “YOU GOT A LOT ON YOUR MIND, IT HAPPENS. IT’S NORMAL.”

  “I YELLED AT MY GRAM. I NEVER DO THAT. I DONT KNOW HWY I DID. I JUST DID. I TOLD HER I WS SORY, BUT …”

  “BUT?”

  “I DNT FEEL SORY.”

  “Hey.”

  Darin looked up from his phone. His foster dad stood the doorway of Darin’s bedroom, in his usual ratty T-shirt and sweatpants. The rule was that Darin had to keep his bedroom door unlocked at all times and he had to leave it open when he wasn’t sleeping or changing or anything like that.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re all having ice cream and watching America’s Funniest Home videos. Want to join us?”

  New text from Ed: “FEEL FUNY. GLAD AND MAD @ SAME TIME.”

  “No, thanks,” Darin told him. He tapped away a message to Ed.

  “YOU’LL BE FINE, DUDE. IT’S JUST THE DRAMA, IT MESSES WITH EVERYONE, STRESS FROM THE SCHOOL SHIT. THAT’S ALL.”

  His foster dad nodded, nearly stepped away but stopped himself. He stared at Darin until Darin felt him and looked back up.

  “What?”

  “There anything you want to tell me?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Pretty sure. Anything you want to tell me?”

  “Look, if you’ve recently made some new … lifestyle choices … I can respect that. It explains some things, too. But if you need to talk about it … well, I’m here.”

  “Uh … okay. I haven’t, but okay.”

  “I KEEP DREEMING ABOUT THE BRIGE, THE CRYING BRIGE,” read another text from Ed. “I HEER IT, 2.”

  His foster dad stared at him. Darin held out his hands as if to say, what.

  “Sorry, it’s just … a different look for you. That’s all.”

  “What? My hair? I just combed it different, that’s all.”

  “It’s not that. It’s the makeup. I just … didn’t expect it. On you. But it’s all right, I respect diversity and your own personal … you know, stuff like that. I do. Okay. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

  Darin just stared at his foster dad until the man left. Then he sat up quick and looked at himself in the mirror just as he got another text from Ed.

  “IT DOSNT FEEL RIGHT.”

  Darin’s hair was still different, but now he wore dark purple eye shadow, too. He had no memory of putting that on or even where he’d gotten it from. How the hell did this happen, he thought. What the fuck? He took a tissue and wiped it off his face.

  “SUMTHINS WRONG,” wrote Ed.

  “YEAH, I THINK YOU’RE RIGHT,” Darin wrote back.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “THE SENIOR TRIP WAS THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME, EVEN THOUGH TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPENED ON THE TRIP AND I WANTED TO KILL MYSELF, IT WAS WORTH IT BECAUSE I GOT TO KNOW YOU ALL. I HAD NO FRIENDS BEFORE THAT. NOW I HAVE YOU. I’M SO ETERNALLY GRATEFUL THAT YOU ALL ARE WITH ME ON THIS JOURNEY,” – text message from Faye.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Darin rolled into school Monday morning and immediately felt that something was off. There was a buzz in the hallways and in the classrooms and even in the office. He sent a text to the group. “WHAT’S GOING ON? DID I MISS SOMETHING?”

  Shakes replied. “BOY DID YOU! THE FURIOUS FIVE RULZ!”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS,” Valerie wrote.

  “I’M SKARED,” Ed wrote.

  “LET’S ALL MEET IN THE LIBRARY, SECOND PERIOD, COOL?” Shakes wrote. “WE NEED TO GET OUR HEADS TOGETHER ON THIS. THIS IS BIG, WE’RE TALKING GAME-CHANGING, WORLD-BEATING FREAKING BIG, YO.”

  “IS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON?” Darin wrote just as the second bell rang.

  “TRACY JONES TOOK OFF WITH ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL WEITZ,” Faye wrote. “THEY FLEW TO VEGAS AND GOT MARRIED THERE YESTERDAY.”

  “WE ARE GODS, DUDE,” Shakes wrote. “MEET ME IN THE LIBRARY, PERIOD 2. THIS WORLD IS NOW OURS TO RULE.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “What the fuck?” Darin said. “Is this for real? Tracy Jones took off and got married to that old bald bastard Weitz?”

  “So it seems,” Valerie said. “Which was something of a surprise to Weitz’s wife, as that he didn’t bother to divorce or even inform her that he’d taken up with a seventeen-year-old student. That’s a good look for you, by the way.”

  “What?” Darin wiped his eyes, saw makeup on his hands. “Again? Damn it.”

  He used his sleeve to wipe the rest of it off his face. “I don’t know how this is happening. Every time I turn around I’ve somehow put more on without remembering it. You’re wearing more makeup, too. What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know. I just stopped fighting it. Every time I wash it off, I seem to put it back on not long afterward. And I have no memory of doing it,” Valerie said. “If you have an explanation, I’d love to hear it.”

  Ed came into the library, moping. He wore dark jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair was slicked back, too, but no makeup. But he carried himself differently than before.

  “I don’t like this game anymore,” Ed said.

  “It can’t be the game, that doesn’t make sense,” Darin said.

  “Then what other explanation do you have? Why are we all dressing different?”

  “It could be some sort of autohypnosis, we all stared at the screen with that crying bridge and it hypnotized us somehow. They can do that, I’ve seen it on TV.”

  “How does that explain Linda Sue or Tracy Jones? They didn’t log into the site.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe after we log in
the names, whoever is running it tracks them down and hypnotizes them, too. Why they’d do that, I don’t know. This is all fucked up. I don’t like that I can’t remember what I’m doing half the time.”

  Darin stopped and stared as Faye strolled into the library.

  She was transformed into a goth goddess, wearing black and lace, her hair teased up and makeup caked on her face. She displayed a prominent cleavage and black leather boots. She looked darkly beautiful.

  “Is this wonderful? I never have to see Tracy Jones ever again,” she said. “She’ll spend the rest of her life with that stinky old man and his bad breath.”

  “I heard that the marriage was, whatever it’s called, not legal, because he’s still married to his … wife. And she’s only seventeen and he took her across state lines, so they arrested him for violating the Mann Act, I think it’s called, so he’s going to jail⁠—”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s pledged her undying love to Weitz, said she’ll wait for him and when he gets out of jail and his divorce is finalized, she’ll marry him then. This is the best thing, ever.”

  “You’re saying you put HIS name in the box to marry her?” Darin asked.

  “Yes. Him. Let her spend her life with HIM. Isn’t it the best?”

  “Uh, I guess it depends on who you talk to, his life is ruined, so is hers,” Darin said.

  “Who cares? She’s a terrible person. So was he. He’d see people make fun of me all the time for being fat and never do a thing about it. They deserve each other.”

  “Faye. You look … uh,” Valerie said. “Different.”

  “I know, this is my new look. You like it?” She winked. “You know, for the first time in my life, I feel pretty. Really pretty. I like that. Where’s Samuel?”

  “Samuel? You mean Shakes?”

  “Yes. Where is he? He was texting me like crazy until fifteen minutes ago. We have a lot we can do now, you know. A lot.”