by Tim McBain
I only have like two chapters left, but I’ve been putting off finishing it. Because then Max will stop asking me what part I’m at, and he’ll never have another reason to talk to me ever again. That’s my theory, anyway.
But I didn’t have anything else to do, so I sat down and finished it. And oh man. The end of this book, Kelly. You should find a copy immediately and read the dickens out of it.
I was so pumped after reading, that I was inspired all over again to go do something thoroughly out of character. I was going to go confess everything to Max. OK, maybe I’m not that bold. But I was at least going to drop a few hints about my feelings for him to see how he reacted.
Looking back, I think I was almost a little high after fighting with my mom and then the Dragon Lady.
Anyway, if all that doesn’t convince you to read this book, then I don’t know what will.
So I gathered up the book, and I might have even found a piece of gum in my bag to make sure my breath was good before I struck out in search of Max.
I checked his tent first, being mindful that I didn’t want to barge in on Breanne and Bennett getting it on or something. But the tent was empty. I tried the mess tent. Peeked through the fence at the catalpa tree. No dice. Breanne mentioned volunteering for guard duty, so I checked both booths. All negative.
I was pretty much set to give up and even started heading back to my tent when I remembered the Humvee. I bet he was back there hanging out. I didn’t know if I’d have the balls to do everything I’d been planning with a bunch of his friends sitting around — OK, let’s be clear, I know I don’t have the balls for that — but maybe I could convince him to take a walk with me or something.
I slipped through the gap in the concertina wire, heading for the river. The sun had only just disappeared behind the trees, so it was still light out and easy to pick my way across the field. But as soon as I passed under the canopy, it was almost night-time dark.
I rounded a bend in the trail and saw the Humvee. No one was sitting around outside, but one of the windows must have been open, because I could hear music. A radio.
As I got closer, I could see movement inside. Breanne has mentioned smoking pot with Bennett in the Humvee, so I wondered if that’s what was going on. I’ve never actually seen Max smoking, and he doesn’t really seem like the stoner type, but sometimes I think everyone smokes weed every now and then.
I picked my way through the underbrush and started to hear something else over the music. A weird rhythmic noise that wasn’t going with the music exactly but definitely had a steady cadence.
I took another step, and then I was almost close enough to put my hand against the body of the vehicle. Several seconds went by before I realized what I was hearing… and then what I was seeing.
It was Breanne. Getting pounded by Bennett.
He was giving it to her from behind, so they were both turned away from me. Even still, I can’t believe they didn’t hear me or at least like… sense my presence. I was so close, I could hear the sound of their naked skin slapping together. I almost vommed right there.
I don’t know how I managed to not scream or something, because it was just so… perplexing and embarrassing. I kept thinking about the time you told me about walking in on your parents and how you said you wanted to dunk your whole head in a bucket of bleach to try to erase the images and sounds.
And they were really going at it. Breanne was making these guttural noises that reminded me of a howler monkey. And Bennett was kind of grunting like a warthog every few thrusts. And I thought, well this was why Breanne was trying so hard to ditch me earlier.
I backed up and started to turn away, now totally terrified that they’d see me. I heard him say, “Oh God.”
I froze, thinking I’d been spotted. And then it hit me.
It wasn’t Bennett’s voice. Bennett’s voice is deep. Baritone. This was a familiar, reedy voice.
I looked back over my shoulder and saw then what I’d missed before. Instead of Bennett’s muscular frame and dark hair, I found a wiry build with a sandy crew cut. And I could even see his jacket hanging on the side mirror of the Humvee. The name was clearly legible.
Rippingale.
I had to take a break there for a second. Writing it all down again almost triggered a panic attack or something. I started shaking and couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I think I’m OK now.
I took off in a sprint back toward camp, not caring if they heard my footsteps anymore. I just wanted to get the hell away from them before I really did start screaming. Or puking. Or crying. I was kind of torn which to do first.
As soon as I slid between the rows of razor wire and stepped back into camp, I decided on crying. It wasn’t much of a choice, really. The tears just started spilling out. I tried not to. At least until I got back to our tent. Then I realized my mom might be back by now. No way in hell could I go back there. I was already in deep shit, and if I was crying then she’d really give me the third friggin’ degree. And what was I going to tell her?
Oh, you know my good buddy Max? I just caught him fucking my friend Breanne back in the woods. Doggy style. Yep, just really going at it.
Ha. Ha. HAHAHAHAHA. FUCKING HA.
I still can’t believe it.
Max, Mister Lots-Of-Guys-Like-Smart-Sexy-Women, fucking Breanne.
What an idiot I am.
And Breanne! With all of her talk about what a huge dork he is, and what a dork I am for liking him? What the shit?
Having decided that I couldn’t go back to our tent and deal with Mommy Dearest, I headed for the mess tent.
On the way, I remembered that I still had Max’s book in my hand. That made me start crying all over again. I veered off to the right. At the doorway of his tent, I tossed the book onto his sleeping bag. I guess it was a good thing I’d finished the book before all this, because I don’t know if I could stomach it now. It would have ruined the whole thing. Which isn’t fair, because it’s a really great book. But I’ll have a hard time not associating it with him for a long, long time.
When I got to the mess tent, I noticed that Sgt. Foressi was there with all the rugrats. But since the lights were turned down for the Harry Potter reading, I slipped into the tent without anyone noticing.
I found a chair in the very back corner where it was extra dark. By then, I wasn’t sobbing so much as the tears were just sort of falling out of my eyeballs and rolling down my cheeks. Maybe if anyone saw me crying, they’d just assume I was really touched by the performance.
I suddenly felt this small, sticky hand on mine, and I looked down. Izzy had crawled under the row of seats in front of me and crept up right beside me.
I thought she’d ask me what was wrong, but she didn’t. She just patted my hand.
That made me cry even harder, and I bent forward and buried my face in my arms. Izzy combed my hair through her fingers a few times, and I’ll tell you what, Kel. I felt like a big piece of shit right then. Because this kid has lost her whole fucking family, but there she was, comforting me because I was upset over some stupid guy that isn’t even my boyfriend or anything.
I am the worst.
Erin
Delfino
Outside of New Bern, North Carolina
4 years, 49 days after
I shushed Meat before I was fully awake. He’d woofed once, or at least I was pretty sure he had. Anyway, he was quiet now, and I was glad for it.
I listened.
That endless chirp of insects had thinned out over the past few nights — only the heartiest of the crickets kept at it in the face of this newfound cold. Still, their one-note song was the only thing I heard. No crashing around in the weeds tonight.
I draped an arm over the side of the bed and felt for it anyway. Just in case.
The grip of the gun was so cold against my fingers that my first thought upon touching it was that it was surely dead. That seemed funny after a second. Weird the nonsense your mind comes up with when it’s still
half asleep. Anyway, the important thing was that the gun was there within arm’s reach, right where I expected it to be.
With that settled, I skimmed my hand over the covers by my feet. Eventually I found the little lump where the dog slept, all wrapped up in two blankets. Good. Maybe he could appreciate good sleeping weather as well.
I lay back, drifting once more toward unconsciousness. I felt that sleepy warmth swell along the back of my neck and skull where they touched the pillow, though the tip of my nose remained icy cold.
I believe I slept for a time, maybe just a few minutes. I never did reach those deeper levels I’d lusted after.
Meatball made a noise unlike any I’d ever heard. A single falsetto shriek that held just long enough to be eerie.
I shushed him, and he fell quiet, but I was spooked now. Wide the fuck awake. The hair on the back of my neck stood as tall as it could. To be honest, I don’t know how I didn’t launch myself out of bed and land in a karate stance with how on guard I was.
Instead I sat up, rubbed my eyes. I felt around for the dog, and he was quivering again like I expected.
I listened. Nothing.
Then I noticed the figure of a man standing in the doorway of the cabin.
I jumped in fright, almost more startled by the fact that I had no idea how long this son of a bitch had been there. Before I could lean over and get my gun, he spoke.
“Meatball in there?”
It was Hellickson, of course, and I realized after a second that this fact eased my fear not at all.
“No.”
“No? Don’t he sleep in here most nights?”
I thought I detected something close to panic in his voice. I scratched my chin.
“Most nights, yeah, but I ain’t seen him tonight.”
He stood there a second longer, and then he turned and left.
I reached down and pet the dog through the pile of blankets again. I don’t know why I lied exactly. To be honest, the notion of telling him the truth never once crossed my mind.
I waited a beat, and then I picked up my gun and moved to follow Dan Hellickson into the dark.
Erin
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
12 days after
Kelly-
When I got back to my tent last night, no one was there. I don’t know why, but that made me feel bad all over again. Maybe just thinking about how alone I am. I have no one to talk to now. Unless this notebook full of letters counts, and who knows if you’ll ever even get it.
It wasn’t quite full dark when I finished writing you, but I crawled into my cot anyway. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them again. Breanne and Max. I didn’t think I’d actually be able to sleep. But I must have drifted off eventually, because when I woke up, it was almost morning.
My mom and I weren’t due in the quarantine tent until the afternoon, so I just puttered around the tent all morning. I wondered if my mom would think it was weird that I hadn’t left, and then I remembered that I was grounded anyway. And I would probably soon be worse than grounded when the Dragon Lady reported back to my mom about me running off.
The time for first meal rolled around, and my mom still wasn’t out of bed. After some debate, I went over to her cot and tried to wake her. She squinted through half-closed eyelids.
“What is it?”
“We’re going to miss breakfast if we don’t go.”
Her sleeping bag rose and fell with her respirations. “I don’t think I can.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Another headache. And it’s making me nauseous. The idea of food just now is… I can’t.”
I started to get a little worried. Maybe she was sicker than I’d realized.
“Should I go get Dr. Kaiser or Dr. Graves?”
“No, it’s fine. This is just what happens with migraines.”
I’d never recalled my mom having migraines before.
“I used to get them when you were very young,” she explained, as if I’d voiced my doubt aloud. “I’d forgotten how awful they are.”
“What about Tylenol? I could see if they’ll give me something from the quarantine tent.”
She rocked her head from side to side and grimaced.
“That never helps. The best thing was always sleep. And caffeine.”
“Coffee then,” I said. “I’ll bring some back for you. I mean… if I’m allowed to go eat?”
There was a long pause, and I thought she might say no.
But then she said, “Of course. And coffee would be nice. Thank you.”
I ate alone. The whole time I felt like everyone was staring at the loser sitting by herself in the corner, even though I’m pretty sure no one was really paying attention to me at all.
When I was almost finished eating, a tray clattered to the table across from me. I glanced up from my half-eaten beans and rice and saw Breanne.
“Oh my god,” she said, and I couldn’t help but thinking of hearing Max moaning the night before. “We need to talk.”
And then she smiled.
Smiled.
I froze, not knowing what to do. Should I scream at her? Throw beans in her face? Get up and walk away without saying a word? Before I could get my thoughts straight, she launched into her tale.
“I went to try to find Bennett last night, you know? And I sort of ran into Max instead. Totally by accident. And I guess I must have looked upset, because he asked what was wrong. We got to talking, and I told him about Bennett and all our fighting. He is so sweet. I mean, you can tell he’s actually listening to what you’re saying.”
I still had a mouthful of rice, but it might as well have been dirt. That’s about what it tasted like at the moment.
“So we walked around for a while, and we ended up out by the Humvee. Just hanging out, you know? And then… well. We sort of started kissing. And one thing led to another, and…”
And I’m stopping there, but she didn’t. Nope. She went on and on. In great detail.
You are probably wondering how I reacted to this bizarre turn of events. This fucking upside-down, ass-backwards circus of a scenario.
Breanne, my supposed friend, is telling me about her sexual escapades with Max, the guy she knows I have a crush on, as if it is some juicy, oozing gossip.
Not to mention the fact that she’s spent the last three weeks recounting all the ways in which Max is positively repulsive to her!
Maybe I was asleep and having some weird nightmare. That would explain how she could do such a thing in the first place and then come tell me all about it like it wasn’t at all awkward or… or… uncouth. Yeah, that’s right. UN-FUCKING-COUTH.
But then she said, “I mean, it’s just so weird, because I thought you were nuts for seeing anything in him before. But now I totally get it.”
I am telling you, Kel, my heart actually sprouted arms and legs and started crawling up my throat, dragging itself, hand over fist, inch-by-inch. That’s the best way I can describe how I felt right then, because it was this insane mix of sadness and anger and disbelief. I just couldn’t believe that anyone — let alone someone I considered a friend — would do this.
Suddenly, she seemed to grow some semblance of a conscience.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
Note the phrasing there. She was basically expecting me — pushing me — to say, No.
My heart was still dangling from my uvula by one hand, so I couldn’t really answer. So Breanne kept talking. Now her words were a nervous patter that seemed to pour out of her mouth. Quite the opposite of how she’d been five minutes earlier when she’d recounted the very specific way Max had kissed her neck and put his hands under her top…
“Because I didn’t plan it, you know. I had no idea it was going to happen. I swear.”
I. Swear.
The two words every Big Fat Liar always utters at the conclusion of one of their fables.
She leaned forward, and now she really looked worried. I guess because I still hadn’t s
aid a word.
“Are you going to tell Bennett?”
Again, let’s just pause and analyze this. She basically betrays me and her pseudo-boyfriend, and now she’s worried about herself. Again. It also kind of annoyed me that she’d think I would tell Bennett. Because I wouldn’t. Even if I didn’t think he was the biggest creepfuck on the planet, I wouldn’t. It’s none of my business, and I (unlike some people) don’t go around stirring up drama for no fucking reason. But then I recalled what Mr. Barnard said in Psych 100 once… That people tend to assume everyone else thinks the same way they do. So I guess Breanne is the type that would have tattled, had our roles been reversed.
I was still stuck on her claim that she hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t know it was going to happen.
“Then why were you so insistent that I not go look for Max?”
Her face screwed up, and she kind of recoiled like I’d hit her.
“What?”
“You told me he volunteered for guard duty.”
“Well… I guess he changed his mind.”
“OK,” I said.
I wasn’t buying it.
“So you are mad? Because it’s not like you guys are together. I technically didn’t do anything wrong.”
It stung, maybe because it was true. But it also hurt because she’d obviously already thought all of this through. She was going through the motions with me, I guess. Seeing what she could get away with. What I’d put up with.
My mouth quirked into a bitter half-smile. Mostly to keep from crying.
“I guess that’s why you feel so guilty. Otherwise, I don’t think you’d keep insisting that I shouldn’t be upset, and that you didn’t do anything wrong.”
For whatever reason, I think that pissed her off more than anything else I could have said. Her eyes went wide, and she took a big breath, and then she said, “Fuck you!”
She stood up and started to stomp away, but she turned back and said, “You’re just jealous, because he wanted me and not you!”
