by Dee, Maria
“Sorry, I don’t believe in it—the palm reading part.”
“What about tarot cards?” she challenged. I didn’t want to be rude but I didn’t believe in anything she had to offer.
“Go on, try it—it’s fun,” Marla urged impatiently.
“Sure. Let’s see what the cards have in store, shall we?” I accepted indifferently.
“Hmm,” she hummed, murmuring something inaudible as she flipped three cards over. She pointed to each one, offering an explanation. “Someone will cross you, someone will die, and new life.”
“And all in one lifetime, I bet,” I said, reproachful. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to be someplace.”
“Wait. This is unusual. Each of these cards signifies a different person, none of which are you.”
“You mean to say, you’ve never given a reading like this before?” My voice was riddled with sarcasm.
“Never,” she gasped. I looked down at her trembling hands and then in her eyes. She was human or at least that’s what she appeared to be. I didn’t get a vibe from her like how I did from the others I knew.
“Saiph, we have a huge line up. Let’s get a move on,” Marla hollered.
“I’m surprised you, of all people, don’t believe in something that is otherworldly,” she whispered.
She knew.
Marla stood by my side, gawking at Saiph. “What do you mean?” Marla probed.
“Just something I saw in her path that would lead me to think—”
I cut her off mid-incriminating-sentence. “Here, something for your troubles,” I placed a twenty (for a five dollar reading) in the jar. It was for charity after all.
“If you need clarification, you can find me here,” Saiph offered her card.
“Doubt it,” I said, mostly to maintain indifferent for Marla’s sake. I did, however, take note of her name…for reference sake.
My insides strained to keep my outsides from displaying the horror that overcame me. Saiph knew what I was, and more importantly, about certain events in my life. I was the one who died, granted it was temporary or at least I hoped it was. The rebirth was Edric. However, the order wasn’t right. It was rebirth, crossing, and death—I wondered if it mattered in what order the cards were read. Nicholas said the end was nowhere near but I prayed history didn’t repeat itself.
Celebratory shots
“Come on, it’s Friday night and we need to go out. I need to go out,” said Calliope, rolling over onto her stomach. We were hanging out in my room of all places on a Friday night.
“Landon invited us to a house party. Should be fun,” Marla tempted.
“What’s funner than a movie night?” I asked, although the reception wasn’t very agreeable.
“A party filled with boys!” Calliope bellowed, distraught.
“She has a point. And besides, everyone is going to be there,” said Marla.
“Everyone?” I asked.
“Everyone. Ample opportunity for me to lay some ground work,” Calliope responded, checking her impeccable black hair in a pocket sized mirror.
“I doubt this party will even scratch the surface of the social stratosphere. Yes, I’ll admit to it. I ruined it for all other event planners,” she rejoiced and rightfully so. The successful carnival made the cover of the campus paper: “Best thrown by a freshman yet.”
“It was unlike any other carnival, that’s for sure,” I smiled nervously segueing into Calliope’s aforementioned pursuit. “But I’m not so sure you’d want to do that, Cal.” I knew exactly whom she had settled her talons into and I wasn’t about to sit back and watch; especially after day two of the carnival, whereby she ogled Orion at the dunk tank and flirted endlessly with catastrophe, his unofficial middle name.
“We’ve been through this before, Xenia. There’s nothing you can possibly say that’ll keep me from him.”
“Hear me out. When I was at the gym last, I overheard something shocking in the locker room. One girl swore by it. She saw it with her own eyes—Orion has herpes,” I whispered, vividly. There was one, and only one thing that could immediately dissuade Calliope from Orion—the epitome of venereal disease.
Calliope flinched, visibly irked by the very possibility. “So, what’s this about Landon throwing a party?” she addressed Marla.
I smiled merrily having gotten through to her for the time being. I never felt right about lying but there was no way around it; this small lie would stretch a long ways, ensuring the safety of one of my dearest friends. One day far down the road, the white gates would creak at my presence, however opening and welcoming just the same.
“Check this out. We’re all invited to hell,” she laughed, holding up her phone with the e-blast revealing a fire-filled room and a bloodied hand gripping a cracked wine bottle surrounded by a pool of red wine. The imagery was Orion’s picturesque representation of doomsday—sheer, provoked mockery. If I didn’t give in, then he’d lash out in any way he deemed fit.
“What a twisted, little, f—”
“It’s Halloween!” Marla jumped in to his defense. “He’s clearly festive and Landon just texted me saying he’s given up as it looks like everyone is going to Orion’s party.”
“Are you inviting Nicholas?” asked Calliope, pryingly.
“Since you’re all set on going, I will now.”
Calliope smirked while she creped on Landon’s eligible friends’ on Cyclopser, the crème de la crème of social media. Photo albums, health status ratings and current dateable ratings—yes, a girl’s best friend. Of course, no actual personal records were exposed, just helpful, reliable ratings. Cyclopser prided itself on upholding confidential and authorized use of information for its members. Once you registered, a file generated from the time of birth to the present. The photo albums automatically generated and no one knew how the chronological images came to be.
“Oh God! Why’d they have to use that angle? I specified in my settings update to shoot from my right as it accentuates my features, meanwhile hiding this horrid blemish,” Calliope huffed, briskly snapping her compact mirror shut. “It’s a good thing you never registered.”
Another detail worth mentioning, the user did not have any say in the images used for the album. The images were often taken when you least expected, capturing you as you would be in day-to-day life. The majority called them candids but some others still considered it an invasion of privacy. Things you never thought were ratable were—that alone sweetened the pot for many. Cyclopser was the latest craze and indisputably so.
Browsing for potential companions never felt easier with a detailed rap sheet, validated images, and even a security status check amongst all other ratings, which guaranteed a pleasant and efficient browsing experience for those in search of companionship.
“Off I go. See ya’ll tonight,” I said. The art of keeping up appearances was becoming easier every day.
I texted Nicholas: You coming to the party tonight?
N: Are you?
X: Yes, with my usual partners in crime
N: Tied up now but I can meet you there…
X: Great, see you then
No smiley faces or winks. Just concise, one sentence responses. I couldn’t help but read into that as him still being morose over the incident with Orion. He acknowledged it at the least but was in no condition to face the consequences bestowed upon us. Technically, Orion used us both to get what he needed…wanted.
Shortly after, Marla and Calliope reconvened at my place for a pre-drink. Drinking wine, preferably red, was a beloved ritual of ours before a night out.
“Is Landon coming tonight?” Calliope asked, casually.
“Are you kidding? He wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, giggling, “Don’t worry, I told him to invite one of his sexy friends for you too,” she said, cla
irvoyantly.
“Yay,” she squealed, appeased.
“Stupid question here,” I said, giggling nervously. “Did he mention anything about Nicholas?” The wine was starting to get to me most apparent in my slurred speech.
“Are you two fighting or something?” Marla asked, concerned.
“Fighting?” I yelped, continuing, “Yes, that’s exactly it.” Diplozoe or human, when it came to matters of the heart, it all boiled down to fidelity. It so happened to be breached for Nicholas and myself thanks to Orion.
“He mentioned running into Nicholas earlier today but that was about it,” she said, sighing quickly. “Oh wait, Landon mentioned seeing him with another girl. She’s probably just a colleague or something.”
Or something. Revenge perhaps? It didn’t seem suited as the person who deserved retaliation was Orion, not me. I chalked it down to the alcohol…it was messing with me.
We walked over to the subway and headed south bound. Many rode the subway heading downtown to the main entertainment district, which was especially lively over the weekend. The ride was smooth and fun as usual. Calliope caught the eye of a passenger amongst his entourage. He coyly stared at her while taking heat from his friends. They jabbed and nudged him to make an advance.
“Make a move, make a move, make…a…mooooove,” I whispered inadvertently staring into the eyes of her admirer. Both Marla and Calliope chuckled, struggling to contain themselves.
Her admirer hesitantly stood up. Either Calliope’s allure expanded or I had flexed a skill that awaited flexing. I gasped, beguiled that my intended joke had inadvertently summoned him.
“Let me help the poor guy,” I said, swiftly waving him over.
“What’d you do that for?” Calliope scowled.
“At the rate he was going, we’d reach our stop before he made a move,” I responded slyly. “I think he’s shy.”
“I don’t like him already. See what you’ve inflicted on me now,” she hastened to whisper as he sat beside her now in our company.
“Hey,” he mustered coyly. “I didn’t mean to stare. I couldn’t help it, you’re very beautiful. I don’t usually approach girls on the subway and ramble on like this, especially in front of her friends. I’m Zack.”
Marla and I nodded in polite acknowledgement.
“Don’t worry. She’s used to it. This one time, a guy actually proposed to her. She said no of course and then it got ugly with a restraining order and stuff…so yeah,” Marla overzealously divulged. She loved meeting new people and her excitement was evident.
“Got it. No proposing on the first date,” he said, smiling awkwardly.
“That’s what you got from this?” Marla winced, disappointed by him taking her cautionary tale too lightly.
“Um, okay. Let’s go for a walk, Morris.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the far end of the subway cart. His two other friends stared in awe, coming over to join us as well.
“Looks like they’ve hit it off,” said a lanky guy, sheepishly. He cunningly winked at Marla.
“I have a boyfriend,” Marla snapped, turning to face me. Her expression ran wild with excitement.
“So do I,” he winked again. Maybe it was his thing, or quite possibly a twitch. “I’m Arthur but you can call me Artie. This is Jazz.”
We both nodded in salutation, staring between the two of them and then each other. “Oooooh, okay,” we hummed in unison.
The quiet one smiled agreeably at first before his face dropped, overrun by disbelief.
“Oh, oh-no,” he shook his head. “I’m not his…I’m not gay. I’m very straight...like this guy,” he said, sheepishly pointing toward a man’s man (and evidently so) dressed in sports gear holding a gym bag; he shook his head side to side, against Jazz’s favor.
Marla and I looked at one another straining to withhold an imminent fit of giggles.
“Of course,” Jazz said, sarcastically.
“How does it feel to be outed?” Marla asked, playfully.
“I was never in to begin with.”
“Sure,” she snickered, rolling her eyes.
We reached our subway stop and the guys rose along with us.
“Are you girls headed to the grand summoning?” Artie asked, clarifying, “You know of the party right?”
Grand summoning? Stupid, stupid Orion.
“But of course,” I strained sarcastically.
“Mind if we join you ladies on the walk over? I promise to keep my buddy here in check,” he smirked, playfully at his friend who snarled back at him.
“Sure, we’re all headed there anyway,” Marla replied, indifferently.
“I’m harmless, really,” Jazz replied in his defense.
“You sure about that?” Artie teased, wrapping his arm around Jazz’s shoulder, tussling his hair. “Jazz never approaches girls on the subway or in public domain for that matter.”
He pushed Artie off, sighing in frustration. “Hey, I talk to girls. It just so happens they don’t talk back—big difference.”
Marla wrinkled her brow. “Aw,” she mirrored kindly, “It’s hard meeting new people.”
“You don’t say,” Jazz sighed, continuing, “You’d think a gay wing-man would work to a straight guy’s advantage but clearly not,” he scowled at his friend.
“That all depends,” Artie deliberated, continuing, “If you were trying to pick up a drunken girl, then yes, but if you were trying to converse with a girl, then no—I’m personable, what can I say,” he grinned, ear to ear. His mischievous allure was infectious.
“It’s true. I like you already,” I agreed, cracking a smile as Artie chuckled, getting a rise out of his friend. “I’m still not feeling you, Jazz.”
Marla looked away, avoiding eye contact. “No comment.”
“Well, I guess it’s settled. I’m a big loser,” he muttered, accidentally bumping into a pedestrian who was rather annoyed. “Watch it,” the stranger grumbled pushing past Jazz.
“My bad,” he said, with his hands up in defense.
“Tonight is so not your night. Come here, Jazz,” Marla whispered, holding her arms out in pity.
He graciously accepted her pity hug, progressively grinning. “Hey, from where I stand, things are already starting to look up.”
Marla rolled her eyes. “I need some cash. I’ll quickly run inside. Do you mind?” she paused to ask as we passed a local bank.
“I’ll loan you some cash—interest-free,” Jazz offered, grinning devilishly.
“No thanks. I have a strange feeling I’d somehow be indebted to you,” she snickered.
Calliope and the others continued to walk ahead, while Marla and I headed to the bank. Marla quickly withdrew money, as there was only one functioning machine. I decided upon back up cash myself.
Marla’s cell phone rang. “It’s Landon. I’ll take it outside,” she excused herself, while chatting amicably on her phone.
I rummaged through my wallet, finding my card wedged between two other points cards. As I pulled it out, it fell to the ground. “Shit,” I grumbled, bending down to pick it up. That very moment, I heard a loud cracking sound—a sound I had only heard in movies. A horrid sound I never thought I’d hear firsthand ever in my life. I turned to face the exit where only seconds ago, a blissful carefree Marla stood. Instead, she lay on the ground as a mysterious man made off with her purse.
I ran outside, falling to my knees beside my wounded friend—more than a friend, she was family. My heart thrashed violently, but I felt it not just against the wall of my chest, but through my head. My skull felt as though it cracked just a little as the blood rushed, pooling down toward my lower limbs.
“Marla! What happened?” I cried hysterical.
“It…I don’t know…it happened so fast,” she said
, coughing. “He said something about…my purse…he took it,” she said, feeling the ground around her, while her other hand rested over her wound. She was shot in the abdomen and there was a lot of blood—too much blood. She shut her eyes and I wept uncontrollably.
“It’s okay, s-stay with me. I’ll get us help,” I stuttered as Calliope and Zack ran back toward us in what felt like slow motion. Everything around us moved slowly, except for the erratic, rapid beating in my head and chest. Calliope stooped to Marla’s other side, her face grave with worry.
“I’m calling for help,” Zack reassured, panic-stricken. Artie and Jazz looked around, scrambling to do something.
“We’ll go look for help,” Jazz hollered, as they took off in different directions. “Help!” They both screamed, one after the other until they were too far to hear.
I removed my cardigan, using it to compress the wound over her abdomen, but there was too much blood.
“Cal, go to the convenience store down the street, we need gauze—lots of it,” I ordered.
I didn’t want her to witness what happened next.
She nodded, smearing blackened tears from her eyes before scurrying off.
My heart rate escalated and the surge of sadness and anger immersed into every cell of my being. My blood boiled and something felt ready to rip through my flesh, I reached my breaking point, unleashing a scream at the top of my lungs. A bright light, a warm healing light emanated from my hand and I instinctively pressed it over her wound.
A Cyclopod dropped beside Marla, crackling in the gravel. I panted wildly, ferociously craning my neck to look up at him.
His face turned ghostly white. “What…the fuck?” he stammered, backing away. “Your hands…your eyes…they’re bleeding!”
“GO…AWAY!” I growled a sound from a different dimension. He was insignificant to me and the last thing I needed was to explain myself to someone I barely knew.
Zack picked up his cell, tripping a little in the process as he quickly ran off, kicking the sparse gravel aside.