Put It Out There

by D. R. Graham

  I inhaled deeply and rubbed my palms along my thighs. I tried to remind myself there was nothing to be nervous about. He was just my friend who I goofed around with at student council meetings. I grew up around Trevor and Murphy and I hung out with Doug and his friends all the time. A guy was a guy. A date didn’t change that. Only, it kind of felt like it did.

  “Are you okay?” He looked seriously concerned.

  “I get a bit uncomfortable driving on the highway ever since my dad’s accident. If you drive the speed limit I’ll feel better.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” He eased up on the accelerator and slowed down.

  “Do you dance?” I asked to shift the conversation away from my anxieties.

  “Uh, not well. Why? Is that a prerequisite?”

  I shrugged because I didn’t have a boyfriend prerequisite list, at least not that I knew of. “It’s more fun to watch Sophie and the guys if you dance.”

  “Well, then we’ll dance—or you’ll dance and I’ll try not to look like an idiot.”

  I laughed and relaxed a little for the rest of the drive. He was chatty, and there was no lull in the conversation once we were both feeling more comfortable. The party was at a huge house in Squamish to celebrate the nineteenth birthday of a girl who had gone to our school. Her name was Brandi. I didn’t know her that well, but Steve’s sister was her best friend. He’d known her most of his life.

  The house was already packed with people when we arrived. The band hadn’t started playing yet, so music cranked out of a stereo system. I spotted Sophie in the corner, setting up the extension cord for her mic. “I’ll be right back.” I squeezed Steve’s hand, then walked over to Sophie and shouted in her ear, “Kill it!”

  “You know it!” she yelled back. “How’s it going with Steve?”

  “Okay.” I tucked my hair behind my ears.

  “Uh-oh, only okay?”

  “We got off to a rough start because he asked if my dad wanted to meet him.”

  She inserted the mic into the stand and adjusted the angle. “What a moron. Did you start bawling?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Nothing. Trevor was there, so he gave me a big hug and went to get my granddad.”

  Sophie’s lips curled into a sympathetic pout. “Trevor is so sweet.”

  “He takes his big brother duties very seriously.” I dropped my purse and cardigan next to the drums with Sophie’s bag.

  “Do something bold with Mason if you get the chance. You need to make a move.”

  “No. I’m not going to hit on a stranger. Even if I wanted to, I’d have no clue how to do that.”

  “Ask him to dance.”

  “I’m technically on a date with someone else, remember?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Steve’s just a pawn. Keep your eye on the prize.”

  Although chess was something I happened to be good at, I wasn’t interested in being the type of person who played with people’s feelings. I glanced around the party, feeling way out of my element. “I should probably get back to Steve before he thinks I ditched him.”

  “Don’t forget you’re on for the last song of the first set.”

  “No. Dirty Deri is not making an appearance tonight.”

  “Have a few drinks, she’ll show up.” She laughed and shoved my shoulder. “Go back to your date. It’s not going to kill you to have some fun.”

  I exhaled and walked back across the room towards Steve. He was with his sister and Brandi. They laughed. He smiled uncomfortably as if they had just teased him a little.

  “Happy birthday, Brandi,” I said as I tucked in next to Steve.

  “Thanks Derian. So you and Stevie, eh?” She pinched his cheek.

  I didn’t know if it was supposed to be a question or a statement, so I just smiled.

  Steve cleared his throat and said, “Derian, this is my sister Giselle.”

  I sort of knew her from school. She used to be a cheerleader, but I had never formally met her before. I extended my hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you.”

  “How do you like Stevie’s new hairstyle?” She giggled as she held his chin and turned his head from side-to-side to show off her handiwork.

  “I think it suits him.”

  “See! I told you,” she shouted and shoved his chest, way too hyper.

  “Okay,” Steve said as he shooed her away. “See you later. Sayonara. Adios. Bu-bye.”

  Giselle and Brandi laughed at him, then wrapped their arms around each other and staggered away into the crowd as the band took their positions. Doug stepped up to the mic and Sophie sat down at the drums. She normally sang lead, but she played the drums for their opening number. Doug yelled in his deep, raspy punk voice, “Hit it!” The guys in the band stood in wide guitar stances with their heads hung and played in synchronization while Sophie pounded out the beat. The crowd went mental and slammed into each other in a mosh pit. Doug killed it and then passed the mic to Sophie for their second song, which was always Joan Jett because Sophie could make her voice sound awesomely raw like Joan’s.

  “Do you want to dance?” Steve asked.

  “Sure, the next one they play is one of my favourites. It’s a punked-out version of Joel Plaskett Emergency’s old-school classic “Nowhere With You.” Do you know it?”

  “No, but if you can just jump around to it I should do all right.”

  Steve was a not bad dancer and, surprisingly, I was actually having a good time. We danced for at least five songs before taking a break, and I didn’t even mind when he rested his hand on my waist as we walked off the dance floor.

  “Do you want something to drink?” he shouted over the music.

  Although Sophie suggested that a drink might help, I wasn’t a drinker. I tried a sip of my dad’s beer once, just to see what it was like. I didn’t like it, at all. Plus, I preferred to have all my faculties at my disposal, so I said, “Water would be great. Thanks.”

  Steve nodded before he headed towards the kitchen, maybe slightly disappointed that I didn’t want to get drunk. Or maybe he didn’t care. I couldn’t tell. I leaned my back against the wall and looked around. Trevor and Murphy were on the other side of the room surrounded by a group of girls. They were always surrounded by a group of girls, but as far as I could tell, Trevor wasn’t dating anyone. He noticed me and tipped his glass. I waved at him, but then tucked my hair behind my ears and turned my focus towards the kitchen.

  Steve held two bottles of water while he talked to Lisa Alvarez. She arched her back and flipped her long brown hair to flirt with him, the same way she acted with every member of the male species. I never understood why someone as pretty and smart as Lisa felt the need to be sleazy to get attention. I probably should have felt jealous, but I assumed she had a shitty home life or something, so I actually felt sorry for her. Steve chatted away with her, maybe oblivious to her tactics, or enjoying them.

  Mason arrived through the front door, wove his way through the crowd, and leaned up against a wall by himself. I watched as he scanned the room. When his gaze reached mine, I froze. I wanted to look away, but for some reason I couldn’t. I was stuck staring at him like a ditz. His expression didn’t change, and he didn’t look away either. I had never actually seen anyone as attractive as him, except in magazines and cologne commercials. If I didn’t look away, he was absolutely going to think there was something stalkerish about me. Fortunately, Steve came back with the waters and blocked my view of Mason. “Are you having a good time?” He handed me one of the bottles.

  “Yes.” I chugged the entire thing. “Are you?”

  “Definitely.” He smiled and turned so he was beside me shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a really good dancer.”

  “Thanks. I used to take lessons.”

  He smiled, and he was even cuter when he did. I hadn’t noticed before. We talked for a while as Sophie sang old-school songs from The Killers, Green Day, and The White Stripes. Steve asked me to dance again. The
n, when Sophie finished belting out “Bad Reputation”, she called me on the mic, “Derian, get your scrawny ass up here.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled as every set of eyes on the dance floor shifted in my direction. Sophie waved to coax me up on the stage. It was a toss-up which was more humiliating, let Dirty Deri loose or stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while everyone gawked at me. The new Derian, I reminded myself and took a deep breath. “Excuse me, Steve, that’s my cue.”

  “Cue for what?”

  I winked at him and said, “You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I reluctantly made my way through the crowd towards the stage, heart racing. The one and only time I had ever danced for the band had been less than a week after my dad’s funeral. I was a distraught and angry wreck at the time, which apparently tapped into a latent punk side. Doug coined the term Dirty Deri when they were talking about my uncharacteristic flash dance the following day. I thought they were all making too big of a deal of it until I saw a video recording and shocked myself. I had to watch it twice before I believed it was me.

  Without extreme grief to fuel me, I convinced myself it was just dancing and stood next to Sophie with my head hung, so my hair would fall forward to cover my face. Doug counted us in, and as soon as the guys started to play, I danced my very best punk rampage. Sophie cranked out the Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated.” The crowd egged me on as I spun repeatedly and flipped my hair violently for effect. It was dizzying and invigorating at the same time. The lights blended into streaks and the music throbbed inside me like a heartbeat. For a minute, I forgot about the people watching me, my stress, everything, and just danced. I was free. Then it was over, and in time with the last drum beat, I flashed a two-handed devil horns and stuck out my tongue like a real rocker. It made the crowd cheer, although I was not even remotely badassed.

  The band gave me high fives, then took a break. I walked back to Steve, not sure what he was going to think of my alter ego. He smiled, but it was kind of a dumbfounded smile. “That was awesome.”

  “Thanks. It’s kind of stupid.”

  “No. It was cool. You must be thirsty again. I’ll get you some more water.” He rushed towards the kitchen.

  I was sweating disgustingly, so I lifted my hair off the back of my neck to cool down. Hands slid across each side of my waist from behind. Air tickled my neck and Trevor’s voice whispered, “Welcome back, Dirty Deri. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  His hands dropped away. I spun around to look at him, but he was already at least three strides away and headed out onto the deck. Not sure if it was his way of teasing or complimenting me, I turned back around. Mason Cartwright had crossed the room and was only a few feet away from me when Giselle bounded up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey, new guy,” she slurred. “You’re sexy. Let’s go hang out in Brandi’s room. And by hang out I mean make out.”

  He ran his finger across his eyebrow, maybe uncomfortable by the proposition or the sloppy way she was hanging off him.

  “Come on. I want to show you around.” She stepped back and tugged his hand. He didn’t budge. “Okay, I’ll meet you upstairs. Don’t take too long, though, because if I get bored, I might start without you.”

  Mason and I both stared at her because she didn’t actually leave. She clutched her chest and wheezed, like she couldn’t breathe. She winced as if a pain shot through her brain and then her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Before I had the chance to register what was going on, her body contorted and her legs collapsed. I lunged forward and tried to break her fall. I was too slow. Her head smashed against the stone fireplace hearth with a horrific thud and her muscles clamped into a seizure.

  “Giselle,” I gasped as I knelt beside her. White foam bubbled out of the corners of her mouth. She continued to have a seizure. The blood from the back of her head pooled on the floor, turning her blonde hair red. Just like I’d seen in my vision. “Oh my God.” I panicked. “Trevor! Trevor!” I screamed. He was already running towards me. He and Murphy were both at my side within seconds. As they knelt beside Giselle, I stood and stepped back, blood on my hands. I wanted to stop watching her convulsions, but I couldn’t look away.

  “Derian, call 911,” Trevor ordered me.

  I didn’t have my phone. It was in my purse, which I’d left next to the drums with Sophie’s. I was about to run and get it when I noticed Mason already talking on his phone. He gave me a look to indicate he was handling it. Steve pushed through the crowd and froze when he saw his sister seizing and bleeding all over the floor.

  “Does she have any medical conditions?” Murphy asked Steve.

  “No.”

  “Did she take anything?”

  Distracted by her grotesque contortions, Steve didn’t answer.

  “Steve,” Trevor said firmly, to snap him out of it. “Did she take any drugs?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, she has before, so it’s possible.”

  “Find out what she took and how much.”

  Steve turned and disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t watch anymore. Pushing between the people, I found the bathroom and used most of the liquid soap out of the dispenser to wash the blood off my hands. Even once they were clean, I didn’t stop scrubbing. My stupid, useless visions. I hated them.

  The ambulance siren got louder as it approached. Then it cut out when it stopped in front of the house. The red lights angled through the bathroom window and created hypnotic flashing patterns on the wall. At the very least, I could have prevented her fall if the warning had been more specific. Sick that it happened, I bent over the toilet and rested my hands on my knees for a while. Once the nauseous feeling passed, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and replayed the images of my dad’s accident repeatedly in my mind. What was the point of seeing things ahead of time if I couldn’t do anything to help the person? I beat myself up for not reacting quickly enough to break her fall until it occurred to me Steve was probably freaking out, and I was hiding in the bathroom like a wuss and a bad friend. After taking a few deep breaths, I forced myself to go back into the living room.

  Giselle had stopped seizing and the paramedics strapped her to a stretcher. Steve looked horrible. I slid my hand around his. It trembled. “She’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

  “I’m going to ride in the ambulance with her. Can you find a ride home?”

  “Of course. Don’t even worry about me. Just take care of your sister. I’ll call you later.”

  The party kind of ended after the ambulance left. The band obviously didn’t play their second set. The cops interviewed all Giselle’s friends to find out more about the drugs she took. Brandi’s parents showed up about half an hour later and everyone started to file out. Trevor walked over and wrapped me in a hug. “You okay?”

  “No,” I mumbled into his chest. “Is it all right if I get a ride home?”

  “No, it’s kind of out of my way.” He chuckled and draped his arm across my shoulder to walk me out of the house.

  “How can you be in the mood to joke?”

  “I like emergencies. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”

  “No. I don’t think. I could have lived my entire life and been perfectly content without seeing someone overdose and crack their head open.”

  He opened the passenger side door of his truck for me. “But when you can help them, it feels good.”

  “I didn’t help. Evidently, she was the girl I saw in my vision the other day, and even though I knew it was going to happen, I couldn’t help her.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. She’s the one who took the drugs.” He closed my door and walked around the hood to the driver’s side.

  After we’d been driving for a while, I asked, “Why do you think I see certain things and not others? And why do I see them at all if the clues don’t make enough sense to prevent the accident?”

  He frowned, giving it serious thought, but when he finally answered, he said, “I don’t know. Mayb
e you should read that book I brought back from Peru for you. The woman said if you embrace your gift, you’ll be able to develop it and use it with more deliberate skill.”

  “It’s not a gift.” I sighed and slouched in the seat. What Trevor didn’t know was I had read up on intuition. A lot. After my dad died, I searched for answers. I wanted to know why I saw his accident in my mind with no details about who the driver was or when it happened. Without knowing it was my dad, there was no way for me to prevent him from driving down to see my mom that day. What was the point? No matter how much research on intuitive ability I did, the conclusions were always the same—everything happens for a reason, and we don’t always know what that reason is. Not particularly helpful. Now another person was hurt, and I’d have to live with the visuals haunting me.

  Trevor and I drove the rest of the way in silence and got home before I had a chance to calm down from the events of the night. With the images of Giselle contorted, bleeding, and foaming at the mouth still disturbing me, I wasn’t looking forward to being all alone. After we parked, I asked, “Do you want to come in for popcorn and a movie?”

  Even though watching movies together was something we used to do all the time when we were kids, we hadn’t done it in at least five years. He took a long time to answer. “Which movie? I’m not going to sit through one of your cheesy eighties romance movies.”

  “How about Lord of the Rings?”

  “No. Let’s download a new release.”

  “The Wi-Fi isn’t fast enough. It has to be one of my old classics.”

  He groaned, but reluctantly agreed.

  I made the popcorn in the kitchen, grabbed a couple of bottles of juice, and joined him in my room. He had taken his jacket and boots off and sat widthways across my single bed, his back propped against the wall with pillows like a couch. He chose Some Kind of Wonderful, which was fine with me since it was one of my favourite eighties movies. I changed into pyjama bottoms in my bathroom, then sat next to him on the bed and set the bowl of popcorn between us.

  I checked my phone to see if Steve had texted. He hadn’t. I frowned and ate a couple of handfuls of popcorn.