Any Second

by Kevin Emerson

Maya’s heart pounded. Mouth dry. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

  “God, relax. I’m almost done.”

  Maya slid off her stool anyway. Thought her legs might collapse, send her splattering to the floor in a boneless heap. Stiff steps toward the front of the shop. Eli still reflected in the window. Did he have any idea she was here? It didn’t seem like it.

  She rounded the espresso bar. The bathrooms were in the back. She’d have to pass right by him. She checked the surrounding tables. No one from their school. They would just be two strangers.

  And now he was right there. Fire licked at Maya’s vision, the walls of the Bauhaus exploding apart. Her ears rang with the cracking of concrete, the splintering of wood, and she vibrated all over as her molecules were torn from one another, but—

  NO! She kept staring at Eli, solid, right in front of her. You don’t get to do this, she told her brain. We don’t blow up. We survive.

  She still searched his sweatshirt for the outlines of explosives.

  The clinking of plates and cups from the kitchen area. The boisterous conversation of the tabletop gamers. Whir of the coffee grinder, laughter from a nearby table, the muted horn stabs of some seventies soul playing over the stereo system. Maya ran her fingertips along the wall.

  Eggshell-textured paint.

  Talk to him. TALK TO HIM—

  But she accelerated and slipped right by and into one of the bathrooms. Shut the door too hard. Everyone outside had probably noticed.

  Dammit! She lunged to the sink and put her shaking hands under the water. Rubbed them, added soap, rubbed more. Slid them over her face, looked in the mirror.

  Cracking black scab on her chin that could use a little work— No!

  “You have to,” she whispered at herself.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Janice: Where’d you go?

  Maya: I told you. Bathroom.

  Maya slid her phone in her pocket. Pee first. She didn’t even have to, but she sat down anyway, then immediately panicked. What if he left while she was screwing around in here? She jumped back up, washing her hands again. “You’re crazy,” she whispered into the mirror. Straggle-haired, another scab above her eyebrow…

  Suddenly she smiled.

  Fine, then. Crazy. That’s what she would be.

  Maya nodded, dried her hands, and gripped the door handle, her palm clammy with sweat.

  Walked out.

  September 24

  “Hey.”

  He barely heard the voice over the screaming synthesizers of Sideshow Fantasy. Assumed she was talking to someone else. Then a hand tapped the table. A few of the fingers in Band-Aids.

  Eli looked up—

  His heart tripped on itself. He fell into the red dark. The café became the DOL. All happening at once as he stared at Maya staring at him.

  Pulled off his headphones. “Hey.”

  But wait…He looked around. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention. Naomi, his math tutor, was long gone, and Melissa was busy on the other side of the bar. She worked here a few nights a week. Brought him for tutoring, and also for socialization, like he was a puppy. As long as you’re not annoying.

  Maya eyed the other tables too. She stepped closer to his, looked at the empty chair but didn’t sit down, just leaned against the wall, one hand in her hoodie pocket, the other scratching at the base of that black hat she always wore.

  Eli had no idea what to say. He’d been terrified to see her since the costume closet, had taken different routes to class when he’d spotted her. Why was she here? Was it about that?

  “How are you?” she finally asked. She didn’t seem angry.

  “Okay.”

  “I guess I look a little better than the last time you saw me, huh?” Her mouth lifted, a slight smile.

  “You, um…” Eli had been about to say she had looked fine then. Do NOT say that! She was shirtless and freaking out! Right. Definitely not that. “I’m really sorry. We shouldn’t have—”

  Maya waved her hand. “Forget it. But you guys were gross for being up there.” A phone buzzed. Eli’s was dark. Maya fished hers from her pocket and frowned at it. Lowered it but didn’t put it away, clutched it instead by her side.

  “I didn’t really know we were going to see you,” said Eli. “It was Graham’s idea—”

  “It’s okay, really. It’s maybe part of why I came over here. I don’t want that to be how you think of me.”

  Okay.

  “Also, are you all right? You fell out of a ceiling. That had to hurt.”

  “I think I sprained my ankle,” said Eli. “My shoulder was bad for a couple days but it’s okay now. Could have been worse.”

  “Yeah, it could have.” Maya looked around the café again. “So, what’s new?”

  Nothing. Come on! Had to speak for real. “Nothing. Just studying. What about you?”

  Maya shrugged. “Same. Otherwise just trying to survive at a new school.”

  “Me too.”

  “I shouldn’t complain. I’m not going through anything like you’re going through.”

  “You don’t look so good.”

  Maya cocked an eyebrow at him. Duh! Why did he say that?

  Suddenly she laughed. It broke her whole face apart, teeth showing, her eyes lighting up. She rubbed her hat and then held out her fingers, showing off the Band-Aids on a bunch of them. “No, I really don’t.”

  Look what you did. Look at the damage you caused. You didn’t even blow up and you still wrecked things. “I’m sorry.”

  Maya waved a hand at him. “Don’t say that anymore, okay? I was well on my way to crazy before the DOL.” She edged closer to the table. “What are you working on?”

  “Math.”

  “It must be hard, the schoolwork. I mean, being in school too, after so long. High school sucks even under normal circumstances.”

  “Math is hard. Everything else too, I guess.”

  “I feel like…I spend the whole day trying to be invisible,” Maya said. “Except then everyone wants me to try to connect more.”

  “Me too,” said Eli. “All the teachers look at me funny.”

  “Same,” said Maya. “Like they’re waiting for me to lose my mind.”

  “For me it’s—” Eli caught himself.

  “It’s what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  Don’t say. “Well, it’s like they’re scared of me. Like I’ll blow them up.”

  Maya nodded. “I get that.” Her phone buzzed again. She checked it and huffed.

  “Are you here with someone?”

  “Yeah,” said Maya, her thumbs tapping. “Study date. One sec.”

  “What are you studying?”

  Maya looked up. “Invertebrate taxonomy? Like the Latin names of worms and sponges and bugs.”

  “Oh.”

  “It sounds boring, but it’s actually kind of interesting. It’s like the ancient catalog of the world.” She checked over her shoulder.

  “It’s okay if you have to go.”

  “Yeah, in a minute, but…” She shoved her phone back into her pocket, couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Listen, what you said about blowing up…”

  “Oh, I didn’t—”

  “No.” Her hands had started shaking, one finger picking at her thumb. “I’ve been having this dream where we’re in the DOL.”

  Adrenaline surged through Eli. “I—”

  “Just listen. It’s that day,” Maya went on, “but it’s also like a hundred other days. There’s always weird people there, or the floor will be made of Jell-O or whatever. But the point is, you always walk in, and then the bomb always goes off and we die, but…after I saw you at school the first week? The dream changed. It’s—”

  Maya’
s phone buzzed again. She looked like she might ignore it, but then fished it out. When she read the message, her face flushed and she looked to the front windows. Eli followed her gaze and saw a girl outside, arms crossed, glaring. Janice, from the costume closet. Eli had seen her around the auditorium since; Graham always made sure to avoid her.

  “Is she waiting for you?” Eli asked.

  “She, um…”

  Janice whirled and stalked away.

  Maya read her phone again and shook her head. “No, I guess not.”

  “What were you saying?”

  Her phone was still buzzing, but Maya silenced it and put it into her back pocket. She rubbed her face. Suddenly she looked exhausted. “About what?”

  “The dream.”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry. It’s just that lately we survive. Like, the bomb still goes off but we don’t die.” She peered at him like maybe he knew what that was all about.

  “That’s…good?” Eli said.

  “Maybe? It seems better than dying.” She smiled.

  “Yeah.” He smiled too, and felt this strange speeding-up inside. Had he missed her? It sort of felt like it, except that didn’t really make sense. He hadn’t even known her.

  “Thanks for coming over here,” he said.

  Maya made a little eye roll. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, even with the whole costume closet thing. Did you know I was stalking your pickup spot?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Out of the corner of his eye, Eli spotted Melissa rounding the bar. She looked from him to Maya and headed straight for them. “Um…,” he began.

  “Hey there,” said Melissa, wiping her hands on her apron. “I saw Naomi left. Who’s this?”

  Eli’s nerves rang. “This is a friend, from school.”

  “I’m Maya.” She held out her hand.

  Melissa shook it, her face stony. She knew who this was. Glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the customers, just like they had. “It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Right,” said Maya. “Yeah, sorry. I was just, um, going in here. Have a good night.” She spun and ducked into the bathroom.

  Eli sat frozen, staring into the space she’d just vacated.

  “Did you know she was going to be here?” Melissa asked quietly.

  No.

  “Do you realize the risk you’re taking talking to her? Tons of people know who she is. If anyone puts two and two together…”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s not just you, Eli. It’s my job here…everything. You have to think before you act.”

  Before you walk home alone.

  “Okay?” said Melissa. “I’m going to have Mom send her mother a message and let them know this place is off-limits.”

  Eli didn’t reply but clenched his fists beneath the table. You’re not Mom. Mom wasn’t quite Mom, though. Melissa thought she had to be, but still…

  “Mel!” the other woman behind the counter called. A line had formed at the register.

  “Coming.” Melissa spoke quietly to Eli: “When she comes out, nothing. Okay? Please?”

  Eli nodded. Whatever. He slipped his headphones on.

  Melissa went behind the counter, but instead of returning to the espresso machine, she took the other woman’s place at the register. A clear view of Eli. Checked him every few seconds.

  The bathroom door opened. Maya came out, spotted Melissa, and kept moving. But as she passed, under her breath: “Check the sugar packets in a minute.” She rounded the bar, giving Melissa a half smile.

  Eli saw her leave a moment later, walking past the windows outside. A quick glance at Eli, then back toward the counter.

  He felt an ache as she passed out of his sight. Why couldn’t he just talk to her? For a minute there, he hadn’t thought about anything other than what they were saying. It had felt easy. Even easier than with Graham.

  He waited a few more seconds and then got up and went to the counter.

  “Can I get a peppermint tea?” he asked Melissa.

  She eyed him. “Sure.”

  He stood by the bar, his heart racing. There were a couple people over by the fixings.

  “One tea,” the other barista said, placing a mug in front of him.

  Eli took it and went to the fixings. Waited until the others were done. He reached into the sugar packets, trying to look nonchalant while pushing them around with his fingers—there was a torn-out piece of notebook paper. He checked to be sure Melissa wasn’t watching, slipped it in his pocket.

  Back at his chair, he carefully unfolded it in his lap.

  Her number.

  Eli bit his lip to keep from smiling.

  He held his phone beneath the table and sent a message: Got it.

  Excellent! Maya replied.

  Thanks for saying hi.

  She replied with a thumbs-up emoji. Then: We still shouldn’t talk in school.

  Nope.

  Getting off the bus now. More when I’m home.

  OK.

  Eli read a graphic novel Graham had let him borrow called Spill Zone. It was cool, and reminded Eli of that silent world Graham had talked about, a place all your own, and yet he realized he’d flipped through ten pages without absorbing anything. Because what was Maya doing? What was home like? And had she looked cute when she’d smiled? He was pretty sure she had.

  It was weird. She was three people in his mind now: the blurry memory from the DOL, the scared girl behind the costume racks, and now tonight, chatting with him at the coffee shop, getting what he was saying in a way that no one else seemed to.

  “Hey.” Melissa appeared. It was nearly nine. “Ready?”

  They walked through the cold, dry night to Mom’s car. The wind kicked up yellow leaves.

  It’s getting to be that time of year, when the Purpose must be obeyed. Barely over a month now until the anniversary.

  Eli winced. Pushed it back. Pictured her.

  They’d just pulled out of their parking spot when his phone buzzed.

  Sorry. Fighting with Janice.

  That’s too bad.

  Whatever. So are you going to the dance Friday?

  Graham had mentioned that. Said it was stupid but also that they should go. Eli hadn’t cared one way or the other, and also hadn’t yet asked if that would work with the police and such. I think so.

  We can probably chat there without causing AN INCIDENT. :)

  OK. :)

  “I know you’re messaging with her,” said Melissa.

  Eli slid his hand over his screen. “I’m not—”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Eli, I saw her leave her number. It’s dangerous and you know it.”

  She gets it.

  “You can’t risk people finding out—”

  “She’s the only one who was there.” Eli was surprised to hear his own raised voice. Was he allowed to show his frustration? Without it hurting anyone? “Talking to her felt…better.”

  Melissa flexed her fingers on the wheel. “You are screwed up.” She didn’t say anything for a second, then shook her head: “Okay, listen, we cannot let Mom know about this. You understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She will lose it, and she’s drinking enough as it is. And also definitely do not start chatting Maya up at school. We can’t risk that.”

  “I won’t.”

  Melissa made a sound like she was going to say something else.

  What?

  Her face scrunched. “I’ve read about how people who go through trauma together get weird bonds.” Melissa was thinking about majoring in criminal psychology. “Just don’t start getting hung up on this girl. You may have ended up in the same place last year—I get that you have that in common—but she did not go through anything lik
e what you have.”

  “I know.” Another surge of frustration. He was tired of hearing what everybody had read about him. Like he was a zoo animal. Hadn’t he been in a cage long enough?

  His phone buzzed again.

  “Okay?” said Melissa. She held out her fist.

  Eli bumped it. “Okay.”

  Maya had written: Look for me at the dance.

  I will.

  Until then…knowing glances only. Eyebrow gestures. She added an emoji of bushy eyebrows.

  Like secret agents, Eli wrote.

  She replied with a smiley face. Eli pictured her grinning again, the way it had seemed to break her whole face apart.

  I got you, she’d said. Almost the anniversary of that too.

  Good night, she said now.

  Bye. His stomach did a somersault. And while he didn’t quite smile, he felt like he was about to, holding it just behind his lips, secret-agent-style, for the rest of the night.

  September 28

  Whoops.

  Bodies swirled around her. Were her. Hips and shoulders rubbing, no borders.

  Serenitab + Pom vodka + school dance = it was all all right.

  She’d meant to go easy, have a good time. Stay balanced. No more being messy girl, sinking girl. Stay on top of things. She’d texted with Eli a couple times during the week, How was your day? and stuff like that, and also that they’d definitely find a way to meet up with each other here at some point.

  But then tonight was also + Janice.

  The dance had a retro eighties theme. They’d gone to Value Village after school for vintage jeans. Squeezed into the dressing room, nip of Dr. Pom, the fit of the jeans hilarious. Making out. Laughing.

  But also: “No, definitely that pair. You should wear them like this. Come here and let me help you get those off.”

  Another swig of Pom. Add a Serenitab.

  “Give me one of those, you little pill popper.”

  Then a stop for Red Bull and back to Janice’s house, raiding her mom’s closet, a museum of zippered garment bags, the retro outfits she’d kept for some reason. Bringing armfuls of clothes to the bathroom to try on. Phone blaring an eighties playlist.

  “Can you ever imagine our moms looking hot?” Maya had said.