An Evil Mind

Sometimes I wonder if they can taste him.

A song comes on with booming bass and Heather squeals and grabs my hand, dragging me to the wood dining room that’s been converted into a dance floor. I get lost in the music, laughing when Heather tries to pop-and-lock in six-inch drunk heels. She leans over and kisses a guy who isn’t Tyler, and it’s then I realize I’m not special. A lot of the people here - heck, maybe most of them - are kissing a guy, or a girl, to forget the kiss of someone else. We’d all rather be kissing that one special person, but for some reason, we can’t or won’t. So we’re here.

I’m not special. It just took me a while to come down to everyone else’s level, is all. It just took me a while to get desperate enough to forget. That’s all.

I wade out of the dance floor and pour myself a coke and rum, downing it as fast as I can. It burns. But, hell, everything burns nowadays. A headache blindsides me, so I go outside and sit on the steps where the cool air can calm my throbbing head.

“You really did a good job,” A voice says. Nameless, in a sweatshirt and jeans, sits beside me with a grin. “Losing weight, I mean. That was a lot of meat to lose. I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” I snarl.

“Oh, we both know you did, Isis,” He chuckles. “It was hilarious – watching you fade away. Picking at your food in the cafeteria. We used to take bets on it – if you’d eat the one single celery stick you picked out or not. You didn’t, most of the time. I lost a lot of money betting on you, piggy.”

I gnaw my lip to force myself not to run away out of habit. I’m not as weak as I used to be, and I’ll show him that. He can’t taint me with anymore darkness. There’s no light to snuff out in me anymore. I’m all shadow, now. He’s just hosing down a campfire that’s underwater.

“Remember when you fainted?” His chuckles get loud. “Oh, shit, that was good. It was in the middle of dodgeball, and you just –”

He goes stiff as a board and falls to the side, coming up laughing.

“Christ. That was funny. True humor. Are you sure you should be here in school and not like, doing stand-up? I’m sure they’d just start laughing at your face. Wouldn’t even have to say anything. Eassssy money.” He narrows his eyes at me, and shakes his head. “And who put that makeup on for you, your grandma?”

“What do you want?” I ask, steely.

Nameless shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “Just wanted to say hello. I know Tyler, and I wanted some whiskey, so I came down. The girls here aren’t half bad. You’re a different story. You stick out like a stubbed toe.”

He’s lying. He used to be better at it, or maybe I’ve just gotten better at reading liars?

“What do you really want, a*shole?”

He looks surprised, and starts clapping. “Oh, wow. A*shole. You haven’t had the guts to say my name for three years, let alone insult me. I’m impressed. My compliments to your shrink.”

“I never went to one. I didn’t need one.”

“I know. You just tried to kill yourself, instead.”

I look sharply at his knee, and he laughs, slapping it.

“Yeah, I know what that diet was really all about. You can’t fool me, piggy. Anybody with half a brain could see you wanted to die. And the best part? No one stopped you. Not even your shitty aunt.” He leans in and whispers. “They all wanted you to die. So why didn’t you?”

A volcanic vent oozes from my heart, spilling hot lava on my lungs, my stomach, my liver, and charring them instantly. Nameless smiles wider.

“It’s weird – I’ve been hearing rumors. About you. Not that you’re ugly, like usual, but something more…strange. Isis Blake is turning into quite the party girl. She makes out with anybody if she gets drunk enough.”

I try to breathe, to keep breathing and not let the memories overwhelm me. Nameless pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, and my heartrate skyrockets and all I hear is a high-pitched white noise. My hands start shaking, the scar on my wrist aching with a phantom burn. Nameless smirks, blowing the smoke in my face.

“What’s the matter? Did that stuck-up pretty boy refuse to f*ck you? Is that why you’re throwing yourself at anybody with a pair of lips?”

I’m frozen, rooted to the steps as echoes of pain sear my skin all over again. The smell of cigarette smoke, the way it curls around my face and lingers in my hair – I want all of it to go away. To stop existing. I don’t want to be here. I want to stop existing, right now. I want to black out. If I hold my breath long enough, I’ll black out and everything will stop.

Nameless chuckles, my silence all the affirmation he needs.

“See, Isis, I knew he wouldn’t. He’s a smart, talented, handsome guy. Someone like that would never want someone like you. It’s just the rule of nature – beautiful people don’t date ugly people. They just don’t. You tried to step above your status, and he put you back in your place. What a great guy. My opinion of him has done a total one eighty.”

He leans in, and the bile in my throat moves to my mouth.

“Or maybe…maybe it’s more than that. Maybe you told him what happened between us. And maybe he just doesn’t want to f*ck a ruined girl. Because that’s what you are. You’re ruined. Trash. Dirt. No one else is going to want you. Not after –”

“Isis? What’s going on out here?”

The horrid black spell cracks, and I can move again, think again. I turn, Kieran’s huge frame blacking out the door. Nameless smiles at him, turning on the charm full-blast.

“Oh nothin’. Just a little talk between old friends. Do you know where Tyler is?”

Kieran glares at him, then jerks his thumb. “Upstairs.”

Nameless pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

When he’s gone, Kieran sits on the steps with me.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat, the pain fading. “Old friend.”

“You don’t look very friendly with him.”

“It’s…nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Kieran lets out a breath. “Well, look. Me and Ulfric and a few of the girls are going into town. There’s a club that’s got a rave night. You wanna come?”

Kieran might be big and on the wrestling team and flunking all his English classes, but he’s got cute dark eyes, like a puppy, and he’s weirdly sensitive. He knows exactly what to say and do to help a person feel better, and he’s got a sixth sense slash invisible insect antennae for how people feel in general. He’s like Wren, in that way. He can tell I don’t want to be here anymore now that Nameless is around. I nod.

“Yeah. Sure. Who’s driving?”

“Me,” Kieran smirks. “I’m the DD, but you may call me Sir Chauffer. You get shotgun.”

“I wish I had a shotgun,” I grumble as I follow him to his PT Cruiser. Two girls in form-fitting dresses and a massive blonde guy who looks slightly like a bloodthirsty Viking are waiting by it.

“Oh yeah?” Kieran laughs. “What would you do with one?”

“Go on picnic. Start an indie band. Kill people.”

“We’re killing people?” The girl in the red dress claps her hands. “Let’s start with Professor Summers. We’d be doing the world a favor.”