Alive

by Chandler Baker

  “You won’t.” Lydia promises.

  We file off onto the lamplit street with hardly any intention of behaving at all. The neighborhood we gravitated to butts up to Lydia’s. Its homes have pool houses that could eat my entire home for breakfast. We pass a bunch of little kids triumphantly waving king-size candy bars. The sound of branches scraping the side of a house makes me feel as if I’m reliving a scene from Hocus Pocus.

  “Where to next?” I skip ahead to Levi, purposefully bypassing Henry in the process. The black asphalt sparkles with a fresh rain and a thin layer of clouds has turned the moon blood orange.

  “Damn it.” Brandon twists to check out the back of his costume. “I’m already starting to unravel.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have used generic,” I call back.

  Levi laces his fingers in mine. “How about that one?” He points to a sprawling mansion with iron gates adorned with fake spiderwebs. The collar of his cape casts dark shadows across his cheekbones.

  It wouldn’t take much for someone to convince me he’s a real vampire, not when he looks at me like I’m a candied apple he’d like to take a bite out of.…

  A shudder, equal parts pleasure and nerves, runs through me. I let it.

  It’s Halloween.

  “On it.” I walk over to the house, push open the gate, and, in minutes, return grinning with half a pillowcase full of Starburst and Twizzlers. “They weren’t home.” Levi’s shoulders slump. I hold the bag out for his review. “But I might share if you’re nice.”

  A smile playing under the shadows on his face, Levi leans in to kiss me on the cheek, but nearly head-butts Brynn instead. “Excuse you,” I tell her.

  “Thanks.” She plunges two hands into the stash of candy, wedging herself between me and Levi. “I love Twizzlers.”

  Levi pulls away before his lips can brush my skin and I’m left with a craving for his touch. I get a slight twinge of the ache in my heart when he’s gone, but it passes as quickly as a gust of wind.

  “Please, Brynn.” I snap the ends of the pillowcase closed. “Help yourself.”

  She waggles her eyebrows and takes a bite out of a red licorice stick. “Don’t mind if I do.” She turns to Levi and points at me. “You should have seen this one in middle school. Weirdest costumes ever. But cute.” She pinches my cheek. “In seventh grade she was a ‘little green man’ and in eighth—what were you again?”

  “Stop!” I cover my face. “It’s so embarrassing.”

  Henry clears his throat. He’s been so quiet I almost forgot he was standing right beside me. “She was the Loch Ness Monster, and she called herself Nessie.” His efforts to keep a straight face fail and he crumples into snorting laughter. “Only—only she didn’t look anything like a sea monster. Like at all. What’d you wear again?”

  I stare openmouthed at him—so glad that he’s finally talking to me, I can’t believe it. “I did too!” I get out before launching into a fit of giggles myself. “I wore seaweed on my clothes.” I shove him playfully in the arm.

  “Seaweed? That’s what that was?”

  “Yes, I got it from the aquarium aisle at PetSmart!”

  At this he rolls his head back and laughs up into the sky. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders. It’s been weeks since Henry and I have found anything funny together. It’s been almost that long since we’ve said more than two words.

  “Okay, fine, but remember what you were? Freddie Krueger, only your mom said you couldn’t take her nice steak knives!”

  He wraps the crook of his arm around my neck and pulls me in to a headlock to ruffle my hair. I stumble, laughing. “I was—”

  Before Henry can answer, there’s a tug at my hand and I’m ripped away. I’m pulled up against Levi’s side and staring from a short distance at Henry, who goes quiet. I nervously flatten my hair. Levi wraps his arm tightly around my waist. “Hey, Cross, do you think we should be heading home soon?” he whispers in my ear.

  My eyes flit away from Henry, but I notice him straighten his skeleton shirt and take a few careful steps back.

  “I…” I begin, but I’m not sure what to say. I keep my voice quiet, hoping no one else can hear. “I’m having a good time. Let’s stay out a little while longer.”

  Levi’s breath comes in short puffs against my earlobe. “You do seem to be having a nice time, but with Henry.”

  I allow our pace to lag so that we can fall back from the pack. Nobody seems to notice except for Henry. “He’s just my friend, Levi.”

  Levi’s fingers clutch hard at my side. “Maybe I should go home, then, and you two can hang out.” He says these words in this tone that’s supposed to be kind but sends a shiver up my arms. A brief flash of pain erupts underneath my ribs. I picture myself being ripped away from him, and it’s like a hole is being torn through my gut.

  “No.” I gasp. “I just…” I peer up at him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t—”

  “Flirting?” He interrupts. He stares down at me hard and I squirm.

  “I wasn’t,” I say.

  Then he kisses my forehead. “It’s okay, Cross. Just…be good.”

  I close my eyes, trying to focus on the feeling Levi’s lips leave on my skin. Meanwhile, my stomach is brewing with a strange mix of emotions. Tiny hair follicles rise on the back of my neck, like the pressure in the air has dropped just before a storm and I can feel the first ghostlike fingers of its icy breeze pass through me.

  I know that if I look over, Henry will still be watching.

  Instead, I lift my chin and look into Levi’s eyes. I’m not sure what I expected—or rather, I am: I thought they’d be cold, hard, mean—but they’re not. He’s Levi once again. My Levi. I reach down for his hand and squeeze it. Now’s not the time to start a fight. We can talk about this later.

  I plant a long kiss on his lips before catching up to the group. Holding hands, we rejoin them at the spot where everyone else is stopped. I nuzzle into Levi’s neck, content to be free from any pain or discomfort. Later, I assure myself, we’ll talk about the thing with Henry. Just not now.

  Henry and I don’t acknowledge each other, and I realize that I’ve never felt further from him. There may as well be an ocean between us, and it’d be easy to stare longingly across it, but I try not to, because the pang I feel for Henry is nothing compared to what it’d be like if I lost Levi.

  “What are we doing?” I ask. The group is huddled at the end of the street, where Halloween spirit has apparently come to die. The rest of the avenue is buzzing with trick-or-treaters and whoops and hollers and candy highs, but a single house on the corner is a vacuum for light. Darkness bathes the tall, skinny house with the pointy roof. A wire fence hems in the overgrown yard. Weeds spill out through the chain link. Across the front gate, a sign warns that the house’s occupants will call the police on all trespassers.

  Brynn separates from the group and walks up to the fence, lifting the bottom of the sign up for closer inspection. “What jerks,” she says, peering up at the blacked-out windows. “There’s not even a bowl of candy left out. Do you think they tell kids that Santa Claus isn’t real, too?” She turns, a familiar glint in her eye. “Guys, I think it’s time to add a little trick to our treat.”

  Kids come close to the end of the street, before parents quickly steer them clear. Past the last lamppost, this side of the road feels abandoned and unused.

  “What did you have in mind?” Lydia asks with a nervous giggle.

  “Just a little good clean fun.” Her blond wig has fallen a bit cockeyed and she looks more Creepy Cabbage Patch Doll than Zombie Barbie. “The dare is to take a lap around the house, knock on the door, then meet back here.”

  “Brynn!” Lydia yelps. “We can’t.”

  “Says who?”

  Lydia tugs her cowgirl hat down lower over her eyes. “Fine. I can’t, then. My mom would kill me if someone called the cops.”

  “Okay, Lydia’s out. Everyone else? Who’s first?”

  “How do we even know
they’re home?” Brandon asks, edging farther down the street to crane for a look around the side.

  I squirm in my knee-high laced boots. I take a deep breath and remember the moment I stood on the pier looking down at the water. I know what Old Stella would do. She’d back out. Levi squeezes my hand as if reading my mind.

  “We’ll do it,” he says. The corners of his mouth curl up like a snake into a wicked smile. My heart thumps. I eye the size of the house, judge the distance around it.

  “We’ve got a live one here, folks,” says Brynn. “You in, Stel?”

  Levi watches me expectantly. I crack my neck. “I’m in.”

  I try to ignore Henry, who’s making a show of rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight.

  Levi pokes me in the side, prodding me forward. “We’ve got this, Cross.” His grin charges me with energy. A familiar rush runs through my body. My heartbeat accelerates. Palms sweat. I wish Levi had supplied me with a sound track for the moment, something to propel me forward.

  “You owe me for this,” I tease. Gingerly, I tug at the base of my push-up bra, which feels as though it’s cutting off my oxygen supply. I couldn’t help but notice Levi appreciating my enhanced bustline, but next time I go out for an evening of childish antics, I’m totally dressing as something other than a deranged dolly. With fabric that doesn’t make me sweat rivulets.

  My heeled boots click against the rain-soaked pavement and I force myself not to glance back. Levi’s hand is hot against mine.

  The metal fence creaks open. I hike my shoulders up, afraid someone will hear. I slip in through the gate.

  “Shhhhh.” I hold my finger up to my lips. Both of our eyes are dancing in the dark. The sidewalk leading up to the porch is cracked and uneven. There’s a rush of static electricity between us.

  Leaves rustle overhead. I tug him after me. Let’s get this over with, I think. We make our way around the side of the house. The tall grass itches my ankles. It’s a short distance to the back, but even spookier. The yard is nearly pitch-black here. The roof blocks the moon and power lines sway ominously overhead.

  Levi meanders, taking his sweet time. My heart, on the other hand, won’t relax. “Hurry up,” I tell him, then jump at the sound of a rustling bush. We edge around to the opposite side of the house. The wood siding is peeling off in layers, the paint completely eaten away in places. When we reach the front again, I see our friends silently goading us on from outside the fence. I shoot them the thumbs-up and peer sideways at the porch.

  “Are you ready?” Levi asks in my ear.

  I nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “One…two…” On three, we trample up the short flight of stairs to the porch. Levi and I both knock three times on the door. A jolt of energy. The feeling of being seventeen. Truly seventeen. I feel myself smiling stupidly. And then Levi’s pulling me in. He kisses me there on the porch in front of everyone and there’s a cheer from the street. Levi’s fist shoots up and we’re smiling into each other. My insides buzz.

  Then there are voices behind us screaming my name. Louder and louder. It’s only when I notice that the front door has cracked open and I hear the guttural rip of a dog’s growl that something inside me jars awake. Shit.

  “Hey!” an angry voice yells. I don’t see the face or size of the dog. I only hear the snarl and feel the puff of hot breath on my calves. I’ve already turned. I’m sprinting in the opposite direction, barreling after Levi, out the gate, slamming it shut behind us, trailing a cheap blond wig, a man-size wad of toilet paper, and a billowing vampire cape.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I mutter. My feet fly across the road, leaping curbs and a fire hydrant. I catch up to the group and we veer right, winding our way around a sweeping corner past little fairy princesses, Batmans, and goblins. There’s a clicking in my chest. A dying carburetor that turns over and over and over again. Click-click-click. I try to keep up, but that’s when I start coughing.

  My lungs are begging for air. It’s only when we’re on the next street that we let our pace lag. A few feet more and we come to a dead stop.

  Brynn doubles over. “Oh my God, Stel! You should have seen your face.”

  I clutch my side and walk in circles, breathing in and out. In and out. Henry looks hard at me. “You okay?”

  I nod. Not ready for words. And also not really okay. Levi’s laugh sounds hollow in my ears.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to run,” Henry says.

  “Helpful,” I gasp. I make a final effort to sound normal. Like everything is fine. Completely routine. “Who’s next?” I say, which elicits a couple laughs.

  I place one hand on each knee. My hair cascades over my shoulders, covering my face like curtains. Every nerve teeters on a knife’s edge. In fact, my entire body shakes like I’m a junkie in need of a hit.

  “Stella.” It sounds as if someone is saying my name through a long tube. “Stella.”

  Black spots creep into my vision. First my hands hit the ground. Followed by my side. I crumple, all the while choking as if someone’s shoving a length of drainpipe down my throat.

  A blond wig hangs down over me. “Stella? Stella?” A cool hand is pressed to my cheek. Brynn’s pulling out her cell phone. She’s dialing.

  “No!” My words are strangled by gags. I don’t want an ambulance. I don’t want the hospital. “No, please,” I groan.

  The vision of my life as normal cracks over me, shattering like crystals on the concrete. I sob and gasp for air while directly overhead, the moon closes in on me, a giant hanging orb. The coppery smell of blood taints every lungful of air.

  If I should die before I wake…

  My eyelids grow heavy and then…and then, the light’s gone.

  The back of my throat is raw. My nose is dry. A cold compress clings to my forehead and there’s a tug from inside my skin when I try to move my arm. I can hardly move my limbs anyway, let alone speak. I’m surrounded by a heavy, warm darkness that feels stuffy and difficult to breathe in without wheezing. I let my head loll to the side and fall still. When opening my eyes is too hard, I give that up, too.

  The next time I wake, I can just peek through my eyelashes. My breaths are cooler and full. I wonder if anyone’s here, but when I notice movement, I’m too tired to investigate. I seal my eyelids shut and doze off instead.

  “Stella? Hello? Stella?” I wake up abruptly to a hand holding mine. It’s Mom’s. She’s here, smiling.

  I nod, groggy. “Where’s Levi?”

  Her smile falters. “Levi?” I nod. “He’s not here. Your doctors aren’t letting in any visitors.” She moves her hand to my shoulder. I don’t find this comforting.

  “But you’re here,” I say.

  Ropy lines strain in her throat as she swallows. “Yes, but I’m your mother, Stella.”

  Through whatever pain meds they have me on, an aching starts to radiate from my back through to my sternum. I recognize the pain instantly and feel my eyes widen. I stare around the room, unseeing. The anxiety only heightens the agony. My fingers claw at the hospital bedsheets. “Where’s Levi?” I repeat, my voice unrecognizable even to me.

  “Stella, stop it.” My mother hushes me.

  “Where is he?” Pain trumpets out of me. I kick my legs. “Where is he?” I’m yelling now. I thrash my back against the mattress. My paper gown tears.

  Mom jumps to her feet. “What’s gotten into you? What is the matter?”

  I pound my fists into the bed and the machines attached to my veins crash toward me. “I need Levi. I need him. Where is he?” Tears slide down my nose. “I’m not joking.” This time it comes out as a scream. White pain goes off inside me like flashing bulbs.

  My teeth rattle, clacking against each other. With effort, I lever my weight up in bed. But Mom pushes me back down, this time not so gently. I glare at her. An open wound howls in my chest. I snarl for Levi again. My mother freezes, and then I start to scream.

  The shrill pitch of my shriek reaches the nu
rses’ station first, and three women rush in. Hands force me down. Hands brace my legs. A white coat appears with a syringe. I flail against them. My mom’s fingers are pressed against her lips. She diverts her eyes, staring at the far wall. I don’t stop screaming until the needle plunges into my thigh and the sound withers in my mouth.

  It’s time to go home, Mom says in that flower-petal voice reserved for patients. It makes me want to break things. “They have you sedated.” That’s not what she says, but it’s something like that and I understand her meaning even though my head is filled with cotton balls. I don’t mention Levi or the cramping between my rib bones. I want to go home. Anywhere but here, where it smells of burned coffee and disinfectant.

  I find myself wrapped in clean sheets and a lavender down comforter, but the pain is already busy driving up through me. How long has it been? Either way, it’s managed to catch me off guard again, which makes me angry. Like my body forgot to play fair.

  Blurry numbers on the alarm clock read 5:08. No one’s around. Definitely not Levi. There’s no point in even saying his name. I pull the covers over my head and breathe in short sips. My arms are weak as I clutch the blanket around me like a fort. One by one, each bony knob of my back pushes pain through to my stomach. The aching rips a hole through the fog of medicine and my eyes spring open. A thick sweat springs from my upper lip. When I can’t sit still any longer I screech and when I do I sound like something wild. An animal. No one approaches my room, and as the hurt unhooks its raking claws from my body, I begin to slip back under the fog of unconsciousness.

  Eventually, I’m able to sit upright in bed. There’s an inky speck on the white underbelly of my forearm that someone might mistake for a freckle. The skin around it is a yellowing bruise where the nurse inserted the IV. Inside my room, I notice that the box of swim trophies stashed in the corner is gone. I guess even my parents realized I won’t be needing those anymore. Better to forget.

  12:25. I stare at the glowing red numbers of my alarm clock until they smear.