We Came Back

by Patrick Lacey

  “Good, now come to bed. They’re probably just saying their goodnights to each other. She’ll be inside and sleeping in no time.”

  He patted her hand on his shoulder and yawned. “Fair enough.”

  Mona kissed his ear once more and slipped back beneath the covers. He heard her remove her nightgown. His boxer shorts grew tight in response, but the moment of relief passed quickly as he saw Alyssa kiss Busty and get out of the car. She walked up the drive, waved, and stepped inside.

  Busty’s car stayed in the driveway for a moment. Frank reached for his glasses.

  “I thought you said you were quitting for the night?” Mona said.

  Frank waved her off. “One second.”

  He put his glasses on, stared at the Honda. Busty was just sitting there. He watched Frank just as Frank had been watching him. They made eye contact and in the dark Frank could not deny the fear he felt looking at his daughter’s new boyfriend. There was something inherently off about that boy and Frank didn’t think it was just his paternal instincts sounding off.

  Busty lit a cigarette, smoke pouring from his nostrils like a dragon. The mist was purple in the moonlight.

  And his eyes seemed to glow red.

  Busty nodded at Frank, as if sending some message he couldn’t decipher, perhaps a threat. Then he drove off into the night.

  Frank watched for a while longer, certain the Honda would come back but it never did. Despite its absence, Frank had the strangest feeling, one that made no sense yet seemed preternaturally right in some way.

  He felt like Busty was still watching from somewhere.

  Chapter Four

  When Vickie Bronson woke up on Monday morning, the first day of her senior year, she felt… different somehow. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She’d been sick for most of the weekend, ever since her run on Friday night. In fact, she barely remembered her run, aside from getting home and feeling feverish. She’d crawled into bed and had barely left her room since, only opening the door and going downstairs to use the bathroom and fix food for herself. The hot flashes and nausea had since passed. Now she just felt… off.

  The strangest part was that she no longer feared the semester. Whereas she’d been anxious and stressed before, now she felt relaxed, calm, almost as if she didn’t even care anymore.

  There was a knock at the door. “Honey?” her mother said through the wood. “You’d better get up or you’re going to be late.”

  Vickie stretched and yawned. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Don’t be too long. It’s always good to be early, especially on the first day.”

  “I said I’ll be out in a minute. In case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

  Her mother gasped on the other side of the door and Vickie did the same. Her mouth hung open in shock. Her pulse tripled its speed. Had she just told her mother off? She felt her lips, as if they belonged to someone else. In all her eighteen years, she couldn’t remember doing such a thing. She didn’t see eye to eye with her parents, had never been good enough for them, but she’d never let them know this. She’d always smiled and nodded and been the good, obedient, second-place daughter.

  Weirder still was that Vickie was smiling. She’d liked telling her mother off, finally standing up to her. It was a small victory, but an important one nonetheless.

  Her mother paused for a long time. “I’ll… I’ll be downstairs with your father. We’re heading out soon. We’ll see you tonight then.”

  “Okay,” was all Vickie said. She stayed in bed a while longer, listening to her parents talking about her below. The house was large and expensive, but the walls were thin and the gap underneath her door allowed sound to travel with ease.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” her mother said, clanging pots and pans around.

  “I’ll have a talk with her tonight,” her father said, probably reading the paper or checking his email instead of looking his wife in the eyes. They were too busy with their careers to show affection. As gross as it was to think about, Vickie had a hard time believing they’d ever had sex. Had it not been for her and Veronica’s resemblance to their parents, she would’ve been inclined to think they were adopted.

  “Don’t you have to give a talk tonight?” her mother said. She gulped something, most likely a power smoothie with blueberries and kale and some other super fruit. Vickie winced just thinking of the putrid liquid.

  “Tomorrow then,” her father said like a reflex.

  Vickie’s interactions with her father were strained and awkward at best and she was willing to bet her entire week’s allowance that the discussion would never happen. She would not be reprimanded for mouthing off to her mother.

  Good, she thought. That bitch has had it coming for years.

  Again, her mouth hung slack. She was shocked at her own thoughts, as if they’d been implanted in her mind from an outside source. The moment passed and she took the covers off.

  Her mother had been right about one thing. Vickie was going to be late. Because she didn’t plan on leaving until her parents were out the door. She could sense her mother trying to wait her out, if only to ridicule her once more, but Vickie was in no rush.

  No rush? It’s the first day of school and you’re at the top of your class.

  She looked in the mirror and shrugged. She had her teachers in the palm of her hand, hadn’t been late once in the last three years, had barely taken a sick day even when she was sick. She had let school come first, sacrificing her social life and even her happiness.

  A half hour later she heard the door slam shut below, heard both her parents’ cars pull out of the driveway.

  She took her time getting ready, putting on her cover up and blush, then choosing her clothing, a slightly baggy pink shirt and Bermuda shorts, both practical and respectable as her mother would say.

  But once she put her outfit on she was disgusted by her own reflection. She wasn’t sure why. It was how she normally dressed but today, for whatever reason, it didn’t feel right. She scowled at the image before her and tore the clothes off, wiped away the makeup until she was a blank canvas again.

  She sat at her vanity and put on mascara, another rarity, followed by lipstick. Not the red or maroon shades she wore for fancy occasions, but the dark blue one she’d used for last year’s Halloween costume.

  She’d dressed as Elvira.

  She tossed her crumpled clothes into the hamper and searched through her closet for an alternative outfit. Everything turned her off. It was like rifling through a stranger’s wardrobe, someone whose taste she despised, even though that someone was her.

  Eventually she settled on a tank top she’d bought on the clearance rack at Hot Topic, though when she’d tried it on at home it had seemed too tight, clinging to her breasts so that it was easy to see their shape. Today though, as she slid it on over a black bra, she couldn’t help but smile. She liked the way her breasts looked. Why hide herself from the world? She was young and she ought to enjoy her body before age took its effect.

  The only pants that seemed to match were jeggings, also black, but it was much too hot out there for long pants. She grabbed her scissors and snipped at the fabric until she had herself a pair of cut-off shorts.

  Emphasis on short, she thought as she regarded her reflection. The edge of the fabric covered less skin than some of her panties.

  She was no longer disgusted at her reflection. If anything, she liked her new look. It was a welcome change of pace.

  New year, new you. Wasn’t that what they said?

  She looked at the clock. She’d need to run the ten blocks to school if she wanted to make it by first bell, but she didn’t intend to run.

  On the way out the door she thought she ought to stop by the corner convenience store and grab a pack of cigarettes. She cocked her head at the notion, trying to figure out why it seemed so strange.

  Then she remembered that she’d never smoked a day in her life.

  ●●�
�

  This was it. The first day back. The day Justin had been dreading since last semester had ended.

  But more so since his dad had died.

  He purposely kept the curtain down in his bedroom. He already had enough on his mind and he didn’t need any Alyssa distractions this morning. That could come later, after he’d faced the stares and whispers from his classmates.

  His bedroom door opened as he was gathering his things. His mother stood in the hall, drinking a cup of coffee that he could smell from across the room. Her eyes were dark and raccoon-like. She hadn’t been sleeping well these last few months, for obvious reasons.

  “Ever heard of knocking?” Justin said, grabbing his notebooks and pens.

  “Good morning to you too,” she said. She still had her EMT uniform on. Justin had a hard time recalling what her civilian clothes looked like. He couldn’t imagine her without the name badge: Elaine Wright, Emergency Medical Technician.

  “What if I had a girl in here?”

  “Honey, believe it or not, I can tell what’s going on in my own son’s life and I happen to know you’re still head over heels with the girl next door. So if she’s out there getting picked up by some tattooed guy, I know there’s not going to be a girl in here.”

  “Tattooed guy?”

  Elaine nodded toward the drawn curtain. “See for yourself.”

  He didn’t need to see to know who she was talking about, though he looked anyway. He wasn’t shocked to find the decrepit Honda parked next door again. Wasn’t shocked to see Alyssa waving goodbye to her parents and taking off with Busty Brown.

  He was only shocked by his restrain, because it took every ounce of strength not to speed down the stairs and confront that bastard who was stealing away the only thing that made him feel human anymore.

  “She’ll come around,” his mother said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “What would you know about coming around?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The answer was obvious. She just wanted to hear him say it, to tell his own mother he knew she couldn’t stand to be in the house where his father had breathed his last breath, where his oxygen tanks still stood in the living room like grave markers. The medical supply company was supposed to pick them up but something told him they were never coming.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just tired.”

  “You and me both. Listen, I won’t give you any grief. Today’s going to suck and we both know it. Just do your best. That’s all you can do.”

  He nodded. “I’ll try.”

  The front door opened below. “Hey, asshole. You ready or what?”

  “That would be Art,” Justin said, sliding on his bag.

  “He has a way with words, doesn’t he?” His mother sipped her coffee.

  “Coming,” Justin called from the hall.

  “About time,” Art said. “Figured you were jerking off.”

  His mother rolled her eyes.

  ●●●

  The teacher’s lounge reminded Frank of a funeral. Nobody wanted to look each other in the eye. To do so would acknowledge the fact that the semester had started again, that the summer break, for those who didn’t teach summer school and SAT make-up exams, had officially come to an end.

  Frank stood at the sink in the cramped room, running water into his coffee pot. He hated the crap the school provided. It tasted like chemicals and never failed to give him heartburn. Last year he’d bought his own coffee maker and set it up in his classroom.

  All around him he tried to ignore the gossip. It never failed to amaze him how nosey his coworkers were, as if they hadn’t grown up since they themselves had walked the halls as students. He didn’t much care who was pregnant, who’d gotten arrested. He was just glad Alyssa’s name never came up.

  Not yet at least. You keep prodding her hard enough and she’s going to lash out, get herself into some trouble. Considering that prick she’s dating, the day may not be far off.

  “Another year in paradise, huh?”

  Frank turned and saw Rick McNeil, one of the only other teachers in his department he could stomach. The man was a decade older, would likely retire in the coming years, but he didn’t act old school. If anything, he had more piss and vinegar than half of the new blood.

  “That’s one way to put it,” Frank said, shutting off the faucet and drying the coffee pot.

  Rick nodded to the carafe. “You buy the good stuff again?” He lowered his voice, looked around as if they were talking about drugs.

  Frank played along. “Sumatra. Fair trade. You want in?”

  Rick pretended to slip him money and they cracked up like kids. There were a few chuckles in the lounge and Rick clapped his hands at the response. “That’s what I like to hear. You can smile, you know. We allow that kind of behavior here. Sometimes we even welcome it.”

  Nancy Holden, head of the math department and one of the oldest faculty members, stared at them like they were idiots before turning around and leaving.

  “You ought to watch yourself or you’re going to get fired,” Frank said.

  “Buddy, if I was gonna get fired, it would’ve happened a long time ago. At the most they’ll offer me early retirement.”

  “And you’ll take them up on it?”

  Rick put his lunch into the fridge and took a piece of chocolate from the candy dish. “Hell no. I plan on being a pain in the ass for as long as I can. What’s got you down, Tanner?”

  “Nothing, just another day in paradise.”

  “I’ve known you too long and you’re a terrible liar.”

  Frank sighed, grabbed a coffee filter from the cabinet. “If you want the truth, it’s my daughter. She’s seeing a real piece of work. Looks like a zombie.”

  “Every father’s worse nightmare.”

  Frank nodded. “I don’t know what she sees in him but Mona keeps telling me to back off, give her some space. I get it. She wants to date a rebel, give her parents a heart attack. It wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t get such a bad vibe from the kid.”

  “He from around here? A former student?”

  Frank nibbled his lip, curled the filter with his finger. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him before but he reminds me of someone. I just can’t put my finger on it. It’s been driving me nuts.” In fact, the more he’d thought about it, the more he swore he recognized that pale white face from somewhere. The answer seemed just beyond reach.

  Rick put a hand on his shoulder just as the first bell rang. Everyone in the lounge grabbed their mugs and shuffled into the hall. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Frank. It’s probably just a fling. If I were him, I’d be scared shitless of you.”

  Ten minutes later, after homeroom, he opened his textbook, asked the class to do the same, and began taking attendance. It was pointless to do so on the first day of the semester. No one with half a brain would skip. But the administration was locking down on them, wanted to keep better tabs on the students. He went through the list, each of the kids mumbling their response or quickly lifting their arms. It was just as he’d expected. Everyone was there.

  Everyone except Vickie Bronson.

  He said her name again, looked through the thirty or so attendees, but Vickie wasn’t there. He frowned. It didn’t make sense. She was a superstar. The girl studied more than her classmates and could probably teach most classes better than the faculty. He hoped she wasn’t sick or facing a family emergency.

  “Let’s talk about the Civil War,” he said, trying not to seem too concerned.

  He turned to the board and began to write some notes. Every so often he heard quiet snickers and whispered conversations, nothing he had to address in an honors class. For the most part, these kids were well behaved, at the top of their academic game.

  The door opened.

  He turned, still writing, thinking it was just Rick taking him up on his coffee, but he stopped jotting mid-sentence when he saw the girl.

  Her skin was d
eathly pale. The bags around her eyes were accentuated by mascara and her lips, both dark blue, reminded him of bruises. He looked at her revealing shorts and quickly looked away, hoping no one had seen. “Miss, I think you have the wrong classroom.”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t, Mr. Tanner.”

  He dropped the marker. It rolled under his desk.

  That voice. He recognized it instantly, but he must have been mistaken. It did not match the face or body. There was no way this girl could be Vickie Bronson.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I’m late. It won’t happen again. Cross my heart and all that.” Her hair was a mess, as if she’d just crawled out of bed, and the smell of cigarettes wafted toward him.

  The class looked just as shocked as Frank, their eyes wide as if seeing an apparition.

  He stared a while longer, trying to tell himself he was just seeing things, but the pale girl truly was one of his star students, even if she was almost unrecognizable. When she met his eyes he wanted to look away, had the urge to pack up his stuff and tell the kids he wasn’t feeling well. Her appearance seemed so odd, so unlike what he was used to, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

  It was the same feeling, he realized, that he got around Busty.

  Like he was looking at a walking thing instead of a teenager.

  He cleared his throat and retrieved the fallen marker. “Have a seat, Miss Bronson. I won’t mark you as tardy today but don’t let it happen again.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, winking at him. She made her way to the only empty desk. The girl sitting next to her recoiled as if she’d seen a spider.

  Frank couldn’t blame her.

  ●●●

  Justin was almost late to his trig class. The new high school, so he’d heard, was three times the size as the old haunted castle on the hill. Though he’d traveled its halls for three years now, he still didn’t have the layout memorized. The third floor, reserved mostly for seniors, was labyrinth-like. He’d made several wrong turns until he finally located the correct room.