daynight

by Megan Thomason

  “I want you… to stay…” I say, still slurring my words.

  “No,” he says, getting up to leave. Not content to let him go, I try to get out of bed to stop him, and instead lurch head first towards the floor, forcing him to catch me. We both end up on the floor and I’m in his arms as intended. I reach my hands up under his shirt to feel his chest, and attempt to deliver a passionate kiss, but he turns his head and all I get is a mouthful of ear.

  “Stop it, Kira,” he says. “This isn’t cool. You don’t get to go from hating me to mauling me, nor would you had Tristan not drugged you.”

  “You saved me,” I say, words still slurred. “You’re my hero. Let me give you a proper thank you.” I try to kiss him again, but he pulls away, and then hefts me back up onto the bed. I land with a thump.

  “Sleep it off. If you still remember when you’re sober we can discuss things. But my bet’s on you still hating me in the evening.”

  “I won’t, I swear. You’re the guy for me, Ethan. I’ve known it from the moment I met you,” I say. “We could Cleave,” I add, wanting him more than ever, though that may be the drugs, I’m not sure. Is it Blake or Ethan that’s here? And did I just call Blake, Ethan? It sure looked like Ethan.

  “Good day, Kira,” he says, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. Wow, Tristan wouldn’t have blown me off like that. He’d have Cleaved me. But no, ugh, Tristan was repulsive tonight. Come back, Blake or Ethan or whoever you are. Please come back.

  “Holy freaking crap. A suicide bomber just detonated a bomb in my brain,” I say to myself as I rummage through the fridge for some juice, my throat so dry it could disintegrate at any moment. The orange juice I find doesn’t make a dent in my thirst or headache.

  “She speaks,” Blake says, looking me in the eye for the first time in nights, although he looks a little angry.

  “Yeah, but you shouldn’t. At least not so loudly. What happened last morn? I remember being at that freak show party and then Tristan giving me a drink and a tour,” I say, pausing to try to remember, but the concentration just sets off another blast in my head. “Nope, nothing but pain,” I say to myself.

  “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” he says, gritting his teeth. “The good news is you won’t have to play house with me anymore.”

  “Say what? Why?” I say, confused as to whether that truly constitutes good news. Despite his betrayal, he’s the only thing here that gives me hope of returning to Earth. And before he betrayed me, I had some semi-positive feelings developing for him.

  “Well, that’s where I deliver the bad news—or maybe you won’t see it that way. In your intoxicated state last night you Cleaved to Tristan, so you’re now a full citizen of Thera and can live happily ever with him and your to-be-assigned kids. You can teach ‘em how to be self-righteous and Tristan can whip them into shape with that ‘killer’ circuit of his.”

  I got drunk? Cleaved to Tristan? Am stuck here forever? The horror slams me like a pro-boxing knockout punch, and I slump to the floor and curl into a ball, rocking myself back and forth, attempting to sob but too dehydrated to get any tears to flow. How many times did Tristan try to convince me to give into him back on Earth, to which my reply was always ‘no’? And now, I chose to do it drunk and don’t even remember?

  How did I let it happen? And why didn’t Bri or Blake stop me? Or maybe they knew and looked the other way. Since Blake assumes I hate him over his betrayal, he probably figured it would happen sooner or later, so might as well get it over with and get rid of me so that he won’t have to watch out for me while carrying out his plans.

  “Anyway,” he says. “Congratulations, I guess. I’m going to get started on my classes. I made waffles if you’re hungry. And, here’s something for your headache,” he says, handing me a couple pills and a glass of water.

  “Thanks for the pills. It’s a great substitute for the pre-Cleaving intervention you should’ve done last morn. I guess you were too busy trying to sail down the Cleaving path with Bailey to notice,” I mumble, but he just chuckles and leaves the room. The situation’s so not funny, I think, but he must think I deserve it.

  I stay on the floor for twenty minutes, allowing my headache to dull, and then grab a waffle and join Blake in the living room to start my classes. But first, I swivel his chair towards me and yank his earphones off.

  “How did it happen, Blake? I wouldn’t do something like that and I don’t even drink. Why can’t I remember anything? What’s going to happen now? How will I explain to my parents that I can never come home?” I ask, staring into his eyes and wondering how I could have possibly fallen subject to Tristan’s charms when Blake was at that house.

  “Uh well, I mean how would I know, Kira? You haven’t exactly been buddy-buddy with me since you uh, dumped me.” Huh? It’s not like we were really dating, but yeah, I guess those listening don’t know that. “I had to find out from Bri what you and Tristan were up to,” he says, looking some combination of angry, sad, and smug.

  “Oh no,” I say, covering my head with my arms. “Bri must hate me. And who could blame her? I certainly hate me right now.” How will I ever face her again? Or Tristan? He’ll be able to tell immediately how disappointed I am and that won’t exactly start things off on the right foot.

  “Well, as much as I’d love to chitchat all night about this, I’m going to get back to my work, and I suggest you do the same thing if you don’t want to re-consummate your Cleaving on Exiled ground,” he says, pulling his earphones back over his ears and turning his chair away from me.

  Time crawls the next few hours as I attempt to pay attention to my schoolwork, while trying to think of any loophole out of my current predicament. Blake doesn’t glance my way once and retreats to his room at lunch to avoid further conversation. By the time we’re cleared to leave for break I dread opening the door. Thankfully neither Tristan nor Bri await me. Blake exits on his board with a terse “see ya there,” and I make my way down the path towards the common area as slowly as possible, not wanting to face anyone. Of course, that’s impossible. Students—some I know from Earth, some I’ve met here, others I still haven’t gotten to know—are everywhere. I dodge engaging in more than some basic pleasantries. As I approach the outdoor hangout spot, Tristan walks down the path to meet me.

  “Hey,” he says, eyes staring at his feet as if he’s embarrassed. “I’m really sorry about last morn. It was wrong to force that on you, a real jerk move. I was wasted and just wanted to get to know you better, but let it go too far. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me somenight. I’m really not that bad of a guy, but I know I’ve come across like it. I just got so caught up in the whole Cleaving thing that I totally screwed up.” He honestly seems as distraught as I am over it, but what does he mean about forcing it on me?

  “I… I just don’t even know what to say Tristan. Can we talk about it later? I am just trying to get a handle on it, you know, and need some time,” I respond. In fact, I’ll need a lot of time—like a decade or two.

  “Sure, fine, I totally get it. Thanks for hearing me out. I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it,” he says, continuing to look downward at his shuffling feet. I’ve never seen Tristan so humble and penitent about anything. I guess facing a lifetime with someone who doesn’t want to be with you would do that to a guy.

  “I know we eventually need to talk it through, but as I said, I just need some time,” I say. He looks so hurt and I feel terrible that I’m causing him pain, but can’t help it. I can’t accept what I’ve done and what it means. Cleaved to the former dead guy. How do I explain to our future kids why I look at him like he’s a ghost, zombie, or some other creature from a horror flick?

  “Yeah, well okay, bye then,” he says, walking towards the canyon and not back to the common area. Bri has been viewing our exchange from above and I can tell she’s not going to let me walk by without a conversation. I approach cautiously; worried that she might just deck me for Cleaving her boyfriend in her
own house. She motions me over to her table and I take a seat.

  “Well, have you recovered from your big morning?” Bri says, eyes stabbing my heart.

  “No, I don’t think I’ll ever recover,” I say, unable to meet her glare.

  “I trusted you,” she says. “And yet you followed my boyfriend into his bedroom.” This I vaguely remember. He wanted to show me his wall art, but all I recall is my desire to leave, not stay, and certainly not hook up.

  “I’m so sorry. He was giving me a tour. I just never expected… Oh gosh, I’m just horrified Bri,” I say, shaking my head in shame. “You must hate me. Absolutely hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. I already told you that I understood why he’d go after you. But what he did still sucks and I’m not ready to forgive him for it,” she says. Is she honestly letting me off the hook? It takes two to Cleave. Surely I must have allowed it to happen and should be held equally responsible. When she and Tristan kissed at the Goodington’s party I was furious. And that was over a kiss! She always was the better friend in our pairing.

  “I hate me,” I say. “The whole thing sucks. Just really freaking sucks.”

  “How’d Blake take it? He was pretty pissed last morn,” she says. “I thought he was going to kill Tristan in that fight. He didn’t, but sure humiliated him.” Fight? What fight? Blake didn’t tell me they’d fought. He acted like he didn’t care that I’d Cleaved Tristan this evening, but he must have if Blake attacked Tristan. Too bad he didn’t do that before the Cleaving.

  “He seemed pretty indifferent to it all,” I say, disappointed that it’s the truth and still pissed that he didn’t intervene.

  “You are insane if you think for one second that Blake’s indifferent to you. If you search for ‘smitten’ on your tablet, you’re going to find his picture,” she says.

  “I doubt that’s still the case under the circumstances,” I respond, looking around for Blake, tears coming to my eyes at the thought of losing him forever, despite what he’s done. “He was all over Bailey last night.”

  “Hardly!! Bailey was the one mauling him. Blake burst into Tristan’s room to save you after Tristan gives you some straight-up Theranberry juice, fights for your honor, and then carries you home like a freaking princess, and you think he’s into Bailey and not you? Geez girl, what’s it going to take for you to Cleave to that boy?” Hold on. Did I hear her correctly? I can’t Cleave to Blake if I already Cleaved to Tristan. My mouth’s gaped open and I might as well have been struck by lightning given the shock I’m feeling.

  “Uh wait. Say again. Last morn’s still a little fuzzy for me,” I say.

  “I bet, given the state we found you in. Your painkillers didn’t mix with Tristan’s cocktail. Tristan was putting the moves on you when we came in. Blake decked him and then downed him before telling him if he ever tried it again he’d gladly risk Exile to get revenge. And then he carried you home and put you to bed. Your boyfriend is the ultimate gentleman, unlike mine.”

  Oh my freaking fake boyfriend. He was messing with me. I scan for the offender and see him talking to some boys and watching our conversation intently. How should I handle this?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Blake

  Well, she doesn’t look pissed, so she must not have figured it out yet, though I’m not sure how that’s possible after talking to both Tristan and Bri. I don’t know what possessed me to lie to her and tell her she’d Cleaved to Tristan, but after what she pulled last morn I feel justified. She shunned me for three nights after I confessed my sins without a single chance for me to explain or discuss it. And then she begs me to sleep next to her? Cleave to her? And calls me Ethan? When did she meet him? And fall for him enough to know he was ‘the one’ from the moment they met? Granted she’d been drugged, but it still messed with me. Kept me up all day. Well, that and I can’t seem to get some of Bailey’s ‘offers’ out of my mind. But, I’m too smart to cave, since I know what happens after things go sour and I’m not in the mood to have Bailey’s ‘punishments’ derail my plans for the SCI.

  When Kira told me that last night was one big black hole, I filled in the blanks with a little misinformation. A harmless joke, or okay, maybe it wasn’t so harmless since she looks like hell just froze over and she’s stuck in the ice. She’ll figure it out soon enough and that should get her blood flowing enough to reignite hell’s fiery furnaces. If she were as evil as Bailey, I’d have to be worried about what Kira would dish back, but she’s too nice to play dirty. Shame, really.

  Perhaps if I could go skate the canyons rather than entertain the dead kids I’d be in better spirits, but Ted banned me from it. Yesternight I’d been getting some air that would turn a skate pro’s head when Ted interrupted. He told me that my wings were clipped until I learned to be a proper social butterfly. That really fouled my mood and then to have to go to that whacked party, and find Tristan all over Kira, well, I flipped. That jerk has been testing my patience all week. Basketball, baseball, football, lacrosse, weights… it all has to be a freaking contest. When I suggest we go board or do some long distance running he laughed in my face, saying that it figured I’d pick stuff meant for loners with no friends.

  Justified or not, I’m feeling guilty for my prank on Kira. Some part of me thought she’d be relieved at the notion of being reunited with her lost true love and being able to ditch me and my mess. Instead, she appears heartbroken and disgusted at the thought of a life with Tristan. Go figure.

  Crap, she just looked my way. I’m toast. She’s coming over. Best to just fess up and take the heat. Strangely though, she’s still wearing the downtrodden body language, head bowed and shaking in disbelief. I clench my teeth as she approaches. I’m going to have to tell her. And there may very well be violence involved when I do.

  “Could we walk?” she says. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure, I guess,” I mumble, following her down a steep trail, through the strobing lights, and to the bottom of the canyon.

  “Sit with me,” she says. “I’m still shaky.” I do and she sits facing me Indian-style, her knees touching mine.

  “I saw you talked to Tristan and Bri. How’d that go?” I say, not sure I want to hear the answer, but glance up to peek at her.

  “Awkward on both fronts,” she says. “Tristan apologized… said he should never have forced it on me. I told him I needed time to get my head around the magnitude of it. And Bri, well she forgave me, which was hard for me to hear. She says you got me out of there afterwards, so thank you for that. It sounds like I was in no state to handle things myself.” To this I can’t respond or lift my eyes to meet hers, my guilt ulcering my gut like Swiss cheese. I definitely took my joke too far.

  “Before they make me move in with Tristan, I needed to talk to you, to apologize to you for how I reacted the other night. Given the situation it’s a lot to ask, but will you hear me out?” She pulls up my chin and looks into my eyes and I want to crawl under the cement floor of this canyon and rot. But instead I nod because I want to hear what she has to say. Need to know how she plans to handle what I told her. If she turns me in I’m Exiled at best, executed at worst.

  “I am so freaked out, Blake,” she says. “The thought of spending the rest of my life with Tristan here is, well, unbearable. I don’t want to get into all the complications of my relationship with him, but I just don’t know if I can do it. How can I spend a lifetime with someone I can’t even be honest with? And who cheated on me back on Earth? I don’t even know what I ever saw in him at this point. He’s such a tool now that it’s hard to remember the good stuff.” She’s shaking her head and staring at a line of ants a stone’s throw away.

  “But, my real problem and the real reason I can’t do it is you,” she says, looking back towards me. “My brain’s been going full throttle since you told me everything and I admit I am angry and betrayed and hurt, but I need you to know that I do understand why you did it. You were stuck. Once they chose me, if you’d given me
warning, we’d both be dead. I get that. It would’ve been impossible for me to fake my reaction when I saw Tristan and Bri had I known ahead of time. Besides, I chose to come here.” She pauses. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit. She understands why I did it and even takes responsibility for her part in it? And I’ve gone and screwed it up worse by telling her yet another lie.

  “So, Blake, I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, that I shut you out, but it always takes me a while to work through stuff in my head.” I never thought she’d forgive me; expected she’d hate me forever.

  “But here’s the most important part, because despite everything you’ve done, I’m going to ask for more. I have no right to ask this, but I need to anyway. Your mission here is now my mission. If you can’t succeed—if you can’t save the Exilers, and everyone here—well then I’m doomed to an eternity in hell. I need you to get me out of here, and preferably sooner, rather than later. If I need to, I’ll get myself Exiled and hope to meet up with the others, but I can’t play Tristan’s life partner under any circumstances.” She pauses and looks me directly in the eye with a look so predatory, I shift uncomfortably. Has Bailey been giving her lessons or what? “I can’t pretend to love him when I’m pretty sure that you’re the only one I have feelings for.”

  Her words penetrate me with the force of a cannon ball. Kira Donovan, the girl I once believed to be a vapid cheerleader, the girl who tried to seduce me under the influence last night, just told me that she has real feelings for me. What do I say to that? Crap. I don’t do feelings. Not anymore. Especially mushy ones. She senses I’m not going to respond, sighs, and continues.

  “Once I figured out I could forgive you the rest came easy to me. I’d always planned to wait for someone I could see spending my life with, someone I could give every part of myself to without hesitation or regret. I never felt that way with Tristan, which is why I never gave into him back on Earth. In fact, I stayed sober so that I’d never even be tempted. With you, I’m tempted. Really tempted. So when you told me I’d Cleaved Tristan, everything snapped into place. I realized I’d destroyed the only future that could ever make me happy. I vowed to only ever be with one man, but I’m going to have to break that vow because I only want to ever be with you.”