I knew she’d said “were” because Hayden was gone, not because he and I weren’t friends anymore. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about the night he died and how awful everything had been, especially between us. I didn’t want to look at Astrid—I didn’t want her to see whatever look was on my face and think it was because of her—so I turned to the glass case next to where we were standing, which held action figures from various games and other trinkets.
“Hayden used to make fun of people who bought stuff like this,” I said. “He called them dolls for dorks, as if that was going to somehow distinguish us from them.”
“Kind of like that Venn diagram of dorks versus geeks versus nerds?” she asked.
“You’ve seen that too?” I asked. Was this some kind of joke? A girl follows me into my favorite store and knows all about the stuff I’m into? “Anyway, one of these figurines kind of reminds me of Hayden’s character in Mage Warfare.” I waited for her to ask me what that was, but she didn’t. This was getting even stranger, but in a kind of awesome way. I’d never met a girl who knew what Mage Warfare was. But then again, I’d hardly hung out with any girls.
“Which one?”
I pointed to one of the figurines. It was maybe four inches tall, a long-haired man in a cloak and a floppy hat, holding a wand.
“A wizard?” she asked.
“It’s actually more of a warlock, or a magus. A disciple of Zoroaster, the inventor of magic.” I paused when I thought I saw her eyes glaze over. Apparently I could still be too dorky, even with a girl who seemed to get it. “I mean, yeah, wizard works.”
“Aren’t you just full of useful information?” she said, with a smirk. “Doesn’t look much like Hayden, though.”
It was true; Hayden hadn’t really hit his growth spurt yet, and his mother’s nagging him to eat more protein and skip dessert had only made him stubborn. Physically the magus looked more like me, tall and skinny, not unlike Astrid’s hipster boyfriend. But the whole point of living in a fantasy world was the fantasy, right? My character was a golem, strong and sturdy like I wasn’t and probably would never be, unless I turned into one of those gym rats and started lifting weights all the time. I’d probably drop them on myself anyway. “It’s a role-playing game,” I said. “He could be whoever he wanted there.”
“Sounds liberating,” she said. “I think you should buy it if it reminds you of him. A keepsake.”
“So I won’t forget him?” I tried not to sound bitter.
Either she didn’t hear the sour note in my voice or it didn’t bother her. “You’ll never forget him. But you’re not going to make it through the rest of the school year, or the rest of high school, if you think about him all the time. If you have this, you’ll have a place to focus. You can think about him when you look at it, and the rest of the time you can try to live.”
“Sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve been through some stuff,” she said. Cryptic, like Hayden was. I could see why they might have been friends. “Trust me on this one.”
“I will,” I said. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She reached over again and picked up one of the earbuds dangling from my neck. I hoped she couldn’t feel my pulse starting to speed up. “What were you listening to, when I so rudely interrupted you?”
“It wasn’t rude,” I said, but she’d already stuck the earbud in her ear.
“Come on, press play,” she said.
I put the other earbud in my ear, hit the button, and listened with her. It was a song from the playlist, haunting and beautiful. Listening to it with her felt otherworldly, like we’d somehow left the store and wandered off by ourselves, into some dark and creepy forest. But together. I closed my eyes and kept listening.
“Gary Jules,” she said, and I snapped out of it, opening my eyes to the fluorescent lighting. Astrid was looking right at me; I hoped she didn’t think it was weird that I’d closed my eyes. “From the Donnie Darko soundtrack. It’s a cover of an old Tears for Fears song.”
I knew the original version, but I hadn’t heard the cover until the playlist. It didn’t sound like something Hayden would normally listen to, and I wondered about the fact that Astrid had immediately recognized it. “You’ve seen the movie?” I asked.
“A bunch of times. It’s amazing. You should totally watch it and tell me what you think.”
“Will do,” I said, and I knew it was true. I wanted to ask her more questions, to find out how she knew Hayden, to start, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Eric walking back into the store. No, I wanted to say. Not yet.
“Looks like it’s time for me to go,” Astrid said.
I wasn’t about to ask her to stay in front of her boyfriend. I really wished she’d come alone, but then again, I might have made even more of an ass out of myself.
Astrid smoothed the collar on my suit, a gesture that would have felt motherly from someone older but which didn’t feel motherly at all coming from her. Almost like we knew each other well enough that she had the right. I liked it. “Don’t worry about all those people at the funeral. The ones who deserve it will get theirs someday. Karma, you know.”
She sounded just like me. “Thanks.”
“Find me at school,” she said. “After you’ve watched the movie.”
I could feel my arm tingling where her fingers had been even as she walked away, which highlighted how sore it already was from Jason knocking me into that pew. God, I hated those guys.
Once Astrid was gone, I went up to the counter and asked if I could see the magus figurine. The guy working there was the same guy who was there every time we came in. Hayden and I had often wondered if the store had more than one employee. What would happen if he got sick? Or even just wanted a day off? He looked like one of the collectors: middle-aged and a little creepy. Maybe this was his dream job, and there was never anywhere else he wanted to be. I couldn’t even imagine what kind of job that would be, for me.
“Where’s your friend?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here by yourself.”
For some reason it hadn’t occurred to me that there would be people who didn’t know what had happened. And that I might have to explain it to them. I felt my face get hot as I started to panic at the idea of telling the store clerk about Hayden. I couldn’t do it. “He’s not here,” I said. “Can I just look at the figurine, please?”
“No problem.” He unlocked the glass case and handed the figurine to me. It felt heavy in my hands, cool to the touch, cast in pewter or some other metal and then painted. Not exactly expert craftsmanship—the paint was crudely applied and was already starting to chip.
I turned it over to see the price tag. “Thirty-five bucks for this?” I asked.
“It’s a collectible,” he said.
“Sure it is,” I muttered.
“Look, do you want it or not?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”