“Maybe not your mom.” The slight scowl in the bathroom mirror. “Mine had boys lined up.”
Right.
And also: “No, just the denim jacket and the tank top. Show some of that skin! No, silly, you can’t be cold when you’re this”—hands exploring—“hot.”
And: “Maybe your tech perv friend can get a feel. What did you two talk about at Bauhaus, anyway? He’s so horny for you. You like it. Trying to make me jealous.” All week with comments like this.
Dr. Pom, the whole bottle from the liquor cabinet. Tip it into the Red Bull.
Then on to the insane can of hair spray Janice had found. Teasing up their hair to ridiculous heights. Chemical cloud. “Now your turn.” Janice’s fingers plucking the hat from Maya’s head.
“No, I don’t know—”
“Come on, when I gave you this hat I didn’t think it would become your little binky.”
Janice threw it on the counter. Maya stood there, exposed in the mirror and harsh light, the long bare section on the back right side of her head, dotted with scabs, from her neckline up and around to the top of her ear. Another missing area above and behind that she couldn’t even see.
“Be right back,” Janice said, leaving Maya alone with it. This zombie in the mirror.
Swig gulp.
She started teasing up her bangs, the spray making her cough, but her eyes kept returning to the damage. There was no way. Hat back on. Shaking out another Serenitab, chasing it with the last drops straight from the vodka bottle.
“Come on,” Janice said, popping back in, hand going for the hat again. “The whole point was to look like twins.”
Maya threw both hands to her head, throat tight and eyes burning. “No, please.”
Janice shrugged. “Okay, fine. Hey, look, I got a fresh supply.” Bottle of peppermint schnapps, coated with dust. “And at least we can do this.” She laid out a handful of makeup and face paint.
Wild blue and pink stripes off their eyes. Chartreuse lipstick.
The schnapps like a dentist visit, like medicine like gasoline or liquid nitrogen, everything frosted, the good ship Serenitab on a lonely journey through the ice floes of the North Atlantic.
A blurry ride to the dance…and now whoooo laughing and singing along at full volume, spinning and twirling, Maya’s face upturned to the music and fog on the packed tennis courts. They were in the thick of the dancers right up front by the DJ, a pocket of heat, the molten center of a galaxy, swimming in purple melodies and pink beats. Mist clung to the clusters of court lights, coated everyone’s hair, surfaces bejeweled in the chilly evening. Sparkly people, floaty people, luminous fairies and star children and you could you could you could.
And yet.
Every once in a while, the lights became prison spots, the dancers seething hordes, the air liquid mercury, her smile a dying gasp. Kick down! Stay away! Everything dangerous.
And Janice close. Bodies bumping, clutching, demanding. Mateo slipping in and out of her proximity, letting a hand fall here and there, a gleaming smile. He was cute. Janice on everyone. Maya losing her balance a lot, just feeling, swimming away from the pieces of dialogue that kept trying to ensnare her in their jaws:
“Mateo’s parents are away for the weekend. They’ve got a hot tub. Plenty of bedrooms.”
Janice making out with Lucas. “That’s cool, right?”
It’s all good or not whatever. Maya reached for the air in front of Janice, fingers groping like a jellyfish. Janice handed her the flask. She took another deep swig of schnapps. Maybe this would be the sip that caused her to implode completely, to suck in on herself and wormhole to the other side, to some alternate universe far from here.
I don’t want this.
Fuck.
The song ended, and Janice threw her dewy arms around Maya and Mateo and pushed them together. Maya resisted but Janice pushed harder, until she was bumping into Mateo and his arms had slipped around her waist. Didn’t want—but hey that didn’t feel so bad and he was right there so she kissed him. Felt his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her ass. Well, well. Hoped Janice would hate it but then caught a glimpse of her grin and nearly retched.
It’s the least you could do, after ditching me at Bauhaus.
Roger that, Janny!
She almost started laughing. Or crying. There were no borders.
“Ow!” Mateo flinched away, fingers to his lip. Had she bitten him?
“Sorry,” she said, maybe out loud.
“Oooh, somebody’s feisty!” Janice spun Maya by the arm.
You can’t see them anymore but they were bruises. BRUISES! And she’ll give you more if you don’t just turn when she says turn—
Raggedy Maya.
Janice’s tongue in Maya.
Chemical alcohol sugar. You wanna kiss I’ll kiss— She mashed her lips into Janice until their teeth collided.
Janice didn’t flinch. Never flinched. Oh yeah? She jammed at Maya even harder, her hand sliding down Maya’s chest.
Fuck you!
And then the next song lit and shoulders collided and everybody started jumping and Maya was cut loose. Janice back in the moment, one with everyone, and yet the slightest glare at Maya as they separated, the side-eye that said, I’m not finished with you.
She probably meant it to be hot.
Maya sank deeper.
But no! Stay up! The thought urgent. You’ll never escape otherwise!
Escape?
RUN.
So she grabbed at the surface, fought to stay afloat, and the music overwhelmed and there was another swirl of time in which she just danced and there were falling stars in the fog light, and they were on Europa, in the low grav, their meat and bones barely consequential—
Maya’s stomach lurched. She slowed, a searing pain carving at the inside of her skull.
She leaned into Janice. “I don’t feel good!”
“It does feel good!”
Maya slipped away, gave Janice’s waist a hard squeeze to throw her off the scent. Found Mateo’s ear. “I’m going to find some water! I’m queasy!”
Mateo bobbed and smiled and rubbed her ass again. “Take it easy!”
Was she even a speaking thing anymore?
Maya staggered through the crowd, bouncing from one body to the next, the world ebbing dizzily like when you looked up from a carousel ride.
She reached the edge of the dancers. Buzzing from her pocket.
Eli. We’re at the back of the courts. Just got here.
Maya stabbed the screen with her Muppet fingers. Heading to bathroom. Need water!
We’re going to get tacos. Do you want one?
Maya sent a thumbs-up. She crossed the playground toward the community center. There were bathrooms there. Crowds milled in the parking lot. A long line at the taco truck. Steam wafting off shoulders and heads.
“Maya?”
She paused, or thought she did.
“Maya Abrams?”
Maya turned, almost fell. A woman at the edge of the parking lot. She waved at Maya, reflection of tennis court lights in her glasses.
“Hey, Maya! I’m Tamara…from Chalk!”
“Fuck.” Maya spun in the other direction. She headed up the gentle rise of dew-soaked grass toward a line of portable bathrooms along the school drive.
“I just wanted to ask a few questions—”
“Stay away from me!” Maya shouted over her shoulder, then tripped. She righted, stumbled on, marching toward the bathrooms, her breath making clouds, her vision slipping, body shivering from the sweat gone frosty. She wrestled with her high-waisted jeans, chafing everywhere.
So hot—SHUT UP, JANNY JAN.
Her heart hammered. Fingers tingled. Halfway up the gentle hill, she checked over her shoulder. No one following her. Couldn’t make out T
amara among the silhouettes, or in the crowd by the taco truck. She’d be waiting, though. In one of the many messages she’d left, she’d said something about being on a deadline.
Miiiiiiddle finger to your deadline, chica.
Ahead, the bathroom doors clunked open and closed, handles turning red to green to red. The music warbled behind her, the grass swishing under her sneakers, cool mist on her face and a brown smell of fallen leaves. Maya almost smiled. So many beautiful things. Leaves were decaying and entropy was winning but they smelled amazing when they did. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Maybe it’s just that you’re far away from Janice.
She stopped among the gaggle waiting for a bathroom and got out her phone. Beautiful night, isn’t it? she messaged to Eli.
Saw the dots like he was replying.
Behind her, the music shifted, the beat slowing, getting more urgent. Sharp-edged keyboard sounds like spinning blades. A familiar song…
Maya’s fingers tingled. Her heart rate spiked. Stomach churned.
“Relax, don’t do it, when you want to go to it—”
Everything went white.
* * *
***
The DOL is empty. Everyone evacuated, the mall vacant. Music still plays softly from the speakers. No bomb technicians. Everyone outside. Eli stands there in the wolf mask. Their hands are clasped.
“I can’t,” he says, voice muffled by plastic.
“Sure you can,” Maya replies. “Let’s get out of here. This is our chance.”
Eli shakes. Finger pressing hard on the trigger. “What about the leaf smell?”
“The what?”
“What about that moment before you hit the drums? That second right before?”
“They never last. Just do it.”
“I don’t have the bomb,” says Eli. “You do.”
Maya feels the heat welling up inside her. She looks down and sees bulges beneath her shirt. Feels stretched: the chemical bottles are inside her abdomen. The impressions of wires snaking under her skin.
She’s been the one, all along.
“Three! Two! One!”
The chemicals slosh. Maya’s knees go weak.
But the bomb doesn’t go off.
The DOL begins to disintegrate, replaced by shadows and trapezoids of light angled on turquoise walls…
* * *
***
A portable toilet. Murky liquid, clumps of toilet paper, sloshing over the black seat.
Maya reeled, her shoulder bumping against the side. Her knees, damp through her jeans, sliding on the moist floor.
“Come on, man! Push harder!”
She blinked. Eyes stung. Smell of sour and shit and urine. Vomit around the seat inches from her face. Hers? The taste in her mouth said yes.
And the bathroom was lurching from side to side, the waste plunking back and forth.
“Almost!”
Creaking and groaning of strained plastic. Maya fell against the wall.
Stop!
Grabbed the wet rim of the plastic urinal. Tried to drag herself to her feet. Shoes smearing the muck on the floor.
“Stop! I’m in here!”
“Oh shit!” one of the boys shouted, laughing.
“Hurry up!” said another.
“Help!” Maya shouted. “Help!”
“Hey, knock it off!” a voice called from a distance.
“Ah, fuck it,” one of the boys grunted. “Let’s go.”
The bathroom crashed back to upright. A fresh splash of liquid on Maya’s sneakers.
She grabbed for the handle, the world spinning. Turned the latch and slammed it open and stumbled out, careening—
Arms grabbed her.
“We got her!” a voice grunted. “Hostile forces neutralized!”
“You okay?”
Maya dropped to her knees in the cool, damp grass. Pain stabbing in her head. A tremor in her stomach like she might vomit again, but she clenched her abdomen and it passed. Distantly, she heard the laughter of the toilet tippers running off.
She looked up. Eli. And that friend of his.
“He knows about us,” said Eli, “but it’s all right.”
Graham brushed his long hair out of his eyes. “You don’t look so good.” His eyes also flashed down her shirt.
Maya pulled her denim jacket closed, leaned on Eli’s arm, tried to stand, but slid back to her knees. The grass listed like the deck of a ship, the tennis court lights swaying. “Too much to drink.” She closed her eyes and winced. “How did you find me?”
Eli crouched beside her. “We heard that woman calling to you and saw you heading this way. I thought it might be safer to talk to you up here.”
“Apparently not,” Maya muttered, looking back at the toilet. “Assholes.”
“Did you pass out in there or something?” Graham asked.
“I, um…” Maya rubbed her head. “This song came on. I used to…” She looked at Eli. “It’s one of the memories from that day. It kinda sets me off.” It occurred to her to check her palm. A lock of hair there. A brushstroke of blood.
“Sorry,” said Eli. “Come on, you should get up.”
Eli helped her to her feet. She was a good half a foot taller than him. She’d forgotten that. In her dreams, he always seemed to be her height.
“Do I smell?”
“Kinda.”
Maya laughed to herself, her brain still sliding around on roller skates. “Does that ever happen to you? Losing track?”
“All the time.”
She put her arm around Eli’s shoulders. More solid than she’d expected. She looked at him again. Was he cute? You’re drunk, stop it.
And why do you think that is, brain-that-just-tried-to-kill-me? To get away from YOU.
“What?” Eli asked.
Had she said that out loud? Sort of mumbled it. “I need a biiig Coke.”
“We were gonna get tacos,” said Graham, maybe sounding annoyed.
Maya reeled her arm in and tried standing on her own.
“You got it?” Eli asked.
“I’m good. I—” Her legs turned to jelly and she fell again. Eli caught her by the elbow.
“Here, come on, soldier.” Graham took her other arm and they lifted her between them. Maya didn’t love Graham’s hand there, so close to the rest of her, but standing was good, better than not standing.
“Tacos,” said Maya. “Coke.”
“Hey, what the hell are you two perverts doing?”
Janice, Mateo, and Lucas, marching up the grassy slope.
“Fuck,” said Graham under his breath.
“Jesus,” said Janice, “get your rapey hands off my friend!”
Eli let go of her.
“Relax,” said Graham, still holding Maya’s arm, “we’re taking her to get a drink—”
“Don’t tell me to relax, Graham! You’d do just about anything to get some half-conscious hands on your cock. Now give her to me and get the fuck out of here!”
Janice moved in, hard. Maya felt Graham tense up, but Lucas and Mateo were looming too and he let go.
“You guys go ahead,” Maya said, the words slurring.
“Why should we?” said Graham.
“Come on.” Eli tugged his arm.
“You really, really oughta get going, Freaker,” said Mateo.
“Screw you guys,” said Graham, but he let Eli pull him away.
“Not in a million years,” said Janice.
“Assholes,” Graham added under his breath.
“Come here and say it again,” Lucas called after them. “Please.”
But Eli and Graham retreated down the hill. Maya could hear them arguing, saw Graham’s arms moving wildly. Keep going, she though
t, but also: Come back.
“Oh.” Janice’s nose wrinkled. “What happened to you, lady?” She hoisted Maya’s arm over her shoulder.
Maya’s stomach quaked, threatening to revolt again. Tiny inhales, large exhales. Her head ballooning. “Just let me go. Getting a Coke with…” She tried to turn and see where Eli had gone.
“With them? God, you’re out of it right now.” She turned Maya by the shoulders and guided her down the hill. “I don’t know what you see in that new kid.”
“He’s nobody,” said Maya.
“Then why do you want to jump him so bad?”
“I don’t—”
“I get the appeal of a charity case,” said Janice with a grin, “but I mean, come on.”
Maya yanked herself free. “I need. A Coke.” The world swooned again, but she fought it, would stand on her own.
“Okay, jeez, settle down.” Janice rolled her eyes at Lucas and Mateo. “Do you guys mind taking a snack break?”
“It’s cool,” said Mateo.
“I’m starving,” said Lucas.
Janice pulled Maya close. Compressing rib cage, deflating lungs. “Oh, Maya. See what happens when you run off?”
“I’m fine. Just drank too much too fast.”
“Seems like more than that. Tell Janice what really happened. Did you have a freak-out?”
Maya shook her head. “Nope.” Freaker. Not many letters away from that label.
They made their way down to the parking lot and got in line at the truck. Lucas and Mateo stood in front of Maya and Janice, hunched over Lucas’s phone. Something to do with the Mariners score. Maya spotted Eli over by the pickup window. He had his hands in his hoodie, head down. Graham was talking excitedly, but quietly. He seemed pissed.
“We’ll get some food in you, a little sugar,” said Janice. “And then get back in the action. We don’t want to lose the attention of our dessert.” She ran a finger down Lucas’s spine.
He looked casually over his shoulder and grinned.
“Mmm,” said Janice.
Maya took a small step away so her shoulder was no longer touching Janice’s. “I might be too tired.”
Janice didn’t look over but exhaled hard and spoke quietly. “How about maybe don’t sabotage this any more than you already have?”
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