Expiration Date

by Kristin Coley

  He went to one of the 8 items or less checkouts and I wheeled my way over to my Aunt Julie.

  “Hey sweetie,” she said as I loaded my groceries on the conveyer belt.

  “Hey, Aunt Julie,” I replied as she started scanning. She wasn’t really my aunt. I didn’t have any biological family besides my dad, since all of my parents’ relatives had died young.

  “Who’s the cutie?” She nodded toward Houston as he stood by the door waiting. I was relieved he hadn’t walked out and left me to beg a ride from someone.

  “A guy from school,” I answered shortly, not wanting to stir up gossip. At least not anymore gossip.

  “Easy on the eyes and nice,” she mentioned, handing me bags. “Came to the store with you.”

  “Yeah, he gave me a ride.”

  “Car still in the shop?” She asked sympathetically.

  “Always,” I replied with a sigh.

  “How’s your dad?”

  “He’s good,” I lied cheerfully. That was the key when you had a drunk for a parent. Lie with a smile and people didn’t look too deeply. Not even when they scanned multiple cases of beer.

  “That’s good.” She finished bagging and gave me the total. I prayed as I swiped the debit card to the checking account, trying to remember if the mortgage had come out yet and hoping it hadn’t so I wouldn’t get declined. A beep eased my tension as I entered my pin and gave Julie a bright smile and wave.

  “Have a good one.” She echoed back as I pushed the cart to the door and a waiting Houston. He silently helped me load the groceries in the backseat of his truck, and after verifying the directions back to my house, nothing more was said between us.

  He parked in my driveway and I fiddled with my seatbelt. “Thank you,” I said in the loud silence. He turned the truck off to my surprise and unbuckled his own seatbelt.

  “What?” My question died off as he opened the truck door.

  “You don’t think I’m going to watch you haul all those groceries in by yourself, do you?”

  I hadn’t actually thought about it, but no, it didn’t seem like something he’d do. I shook my head and grabbed a couple of bags. I let us in and prayed my dad was still working or at the bar. It wouldn’t even bug me if he was. I just didn’t want to introduce them. It wouldn’t take Houston long to figure out why I’d bought so much beer.

  We unloaded my groceries from his truck silently and when we were finished I trailed him to the door.

  “Again, thank you,” I offered, not knowing how to fix the problem I’d caused and realizing that for the first time I did care what someone thought of me. I didn’t want him to think badly of me.

  He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. He glanced down at the porch floor and then out to his truck. The rain had started back, but not as heavy as before.

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” he finally muttered before dashing out to his truck. He was gone before I could say anything and I didn’t have his phone number to call and tell him it wasn’t necessary. I watched as he braked at the corner and then turned from view.

  “No telling what Amber will make of this,” I murmured to myself and closed the door.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning I found myself primping more than normal. Which meant I actually looked in the mirror before going to the kitchen. A glance at the recliner revealed it was empty and I paused.

  One day of Dad getting up on his own wasn’t too unusual, but two? In a row? I walked into the kitchen and heard the shower cut off in the hall bath. After Mom’s death, Dad had refused to sleep in the master bedroom and told me to take it. Said I needed my privacy since I was a teenage girl. The haunted look in his eyes had quickly convinced me to take it, not for my sake but his. Our grief was a slippery slope we tiptoed around in an effort to avoid triggering the paralyzing pain.

  Dad slept in the guest bedroom off the kitchen and used the tiny three quarter bath next to it, at least when he didn’t just sleep on the recliner.

  I fixed a bowl of cereal, noting the new pile of cans on the recycle bin. He’d gotten himself up alright, but he’d done damage to the cases of beer I’d bought. I was curious to see how he was, but also hoping he’d be gone before Houston showed up.

  He came out a few minutes later, showered and dressed, but there was no disguising the bloodshot eyes or deep set wrinkles. He’d aged with Mom’s death, and years of drinking his sorrows away hadn’t helped.

  I pointed to the toaster as he shuffled in, glancing around blearily. He followed my finger and just then his Pop-Tarts popped up. A smile managed to lift one corner of his mouth as a horn honked outside. I recognized the distinctive sound as belonging to my Dad’s friend. He grabbed his breakfast and gave me a nod as he headed to the door. I dumped my bowl in the sink and grabbed my backpack to wait by the door. I had a feeling Houston wouldn’t be far behind.

  My dad’s ride had barely turned the corner when I spotted Houston’s truck at the stop sign. I rocked on my heels as I waited at the top of the porch steps. I could admit to myself I was curious. Not only about his apparent lack of an expiration date but also why he’d suddenly decided to give me a ride to school. The rides after school could at least be blamed on the weather. The decision to pick me up though? That seemed like something else entirely. I had no doubt what Amber would call it, but my mind denied the idea that he would consider this a date.

  It was a ride between friends.

  If we could be considered friends after yesterday’s shopping debacle.

  I inhaled deeply, calming my racing heart as he pulled in the driveway. I jogged to the door of the truck and heard the lock disengage as I reached for it. I pulled it open and said the first thing that popped into my head.

  “It stopped raining.” And it had. For the first time in over a week, the sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud marring the beautiful blue sky. “I can walk.”

  His mouth twitched and I thought it might be an attempt at a smile. He shook his head and said, “Hop in.”

  I climbed in, my attempt to let him off the hook apparently failing. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and then abruptly asked me, “How long do we have till first bell?”

  “17 minutes and 54 seconds,” I answered promptly. His jaw locked for a brief second and he gave me a nod.

  “Good to know.”

  He put the truck in gear and the locks automatically engaged as I buckled my seatbelt. He backed down the drive and when he got to the stop sign he went the wrong way.

  “It’s…..” I started pointing my finger the opposite direction.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said shortly and I eyed the door handle. It had just occurred to me that I really didn’t know much about him and I was now at his mercy.

  “Jesus, Hope,” he muttered, grabbing for me as I went for the lock. “I’m not kidnapping you. I’m going by McDonald’s.”

  “Oh,” I muttered, shrinking into my seat as I spotted the golden arches up ahead. “I didn’t know what to think.” He still held my hand where he’d grabbed me and I glanced at it pointedly. “You can let go now. I won’t jump out.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to,” he bantered, his thumb brushing over my wrist and causing sparks. I gave him a startled look as he watched me carefully. My face must have answered some question because he shifted back in his seat with a satisfied expression and released my hand. He rolled down his window and asked, “You want anything?”

  Even though I’d finished off my bowl of cereal, I nodded. “Sausage biscuit, grape jelly.” He nodded and place the order, pulling around to wait in line.

  “Amber told me you have a huge crush on me and that’s why you acted so weird the first day.” His words were unexpected to say the least, but it was the nonchalant way he stated them that caught me off guard.

  “She what?” I breathed out, barely able to comprehend her doing something like that, since I was supposed to be her friend!

  “Yeah, I didn’t
believe her.”

  “You didn’t’?” I was almost offended by his doubt, but more surprised by his lack of ego.

  “This may come as a surprise to you, but I can recognize when a girl is interested, and you’re not.”

  “And why do you think I’m not?” I demanded, suddenly put off by his assurance that I wasn’t interested. Even though I wasn’t or hadn’t been. I’d been so consumed by his lack of a date that I hadn’t put in a lot of thought into him. At least not at first.

  “Because you don’t look at me like a girl who wants to date me.” He threw me a curious expression. “But more like a girl who wants to study me, like I’m some type of unknown entity.”

  His astuteness shut me up as he handed the lady money for our food and I accepted the bag he handed over silently.

  “We good on time?” He asked, leaving his window down as he headed back to the school.

  “Yep, 11 minutes and 32 seconds until the bell,” I answered before digging into the bag to hand him his sandwich.

  “You see, that’s another thing. Most people can’t do that,” he stated, accepting his food.

  “What?” I asked without thinking as I fished out my jelly.

  “Rattle off the precise time until something. Even knowing the exact time is a little weird, but you seem to know how long until it happens. That’s more than a little odd.”

  I swallowed, my hand squeezing the jelly pack a little too tight as his words registered. I wasn’t used to people paying such close attention to me and hadn’t noticed he’d been testing me.

  “I…” I trailed off, unsure what I was going to say. My little talent was strange and no doubt tied to my ability to know when people were going to die, but I wasn’t ready to delve into that level of sharing with him. Not today and probably not ever.

  “It’s cool. I don’t need an explanation.” I let out a sigh as I looked at him. He met my eyes for a brief second before going back to the road. “You intrigue me.”

  I snorted and muttered, “Big words. Been studying for the SATs I see.”

  “Yeah, I have. And it’s true. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time. You don’t seem to care what people think and apparently I intrigue you as well.”

  “Cocky aren’t we?”

  “I prefer observant.”

  “Oh? And what else have you observed?”

  “You care about Amber. About her future. You hate Martin and I can understand why. Your home life isn’t the best but you’re not crying about it.” He paused as I sucked in a sharp breath at his accurate observations. “You also…,” he paused again, seeming to consider his words. “You seem like you’re observing and not participating. It’s like you’ve checked out of life and that bothers me.”

  My hands clenched into fists at his words. He had seen more than I expected or wanted anyone to see. He was also right, but it was the fact that it bothered him that shook me to my core. He’d seen what so many others had missed and even after having only known me for a few days, he already cared more than people I’d known for years.

  “I participate,” I argued weakly, unable to look at him, instead staring sightlessly out the window at the school parking lot.

  “No, you go through the motions,” he corrected, and the gentle touch of his hand made me jump. “But what I don’t understand is why?”

  My instincts kicked in then and I jerked my hand away.

  “I don’t need you analyzing my life,” I answered sharply, shoving open the truck door and jumping out.

  “Hope!”

  I flinched at the sound of my name and he fell silent as we stared at one another.

  “You could never understand,” I told him, my words a warning. My curiosity about him had not been satisfied, but he’d suddenly become dangerous to me and that meant he needed to be held at bay.

  “I want to try.” The words slipped from him and I slammed the truck door, ignoring them.

  My half eaten biscuit was still clutched in my hand as I passed through the doors of my prison and I threw it in the trash. Classmates stepped out of my way as I stormed to my locker, inexplicably angry with the world.

  Amber waited next to my locker, decked out in her cheerleading outfit for the pep rally that afternoon. Her hopeful expression disappeared as my anger found a new target.

  “You ever do something like that again and I’ll never speak to you again.” I glared at her, my fingers curling as I considered the fact that it was her little claim about my ‘feelings’ that had started all of this. “Actually, I still might never speak to you again.”

  Her face fell as her eyes grew glossy, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My own emotions were bubbling to the surface for the first time in a long time and I couldn’t deal. She spun around and raced down the hall as I started swapping my books, keeping my thoughts focused on the task in front of me to avoid thinking about what had just happened.

  The bell rang as I shuffled the last of my books in my locker. I muttered obscenities as I knew I was about to get humiliated by Martin for being tardy.

  I shrugged my backpack on my shoulders and contemplated walking out the door instead. What did it matter anyway? Dead girls didn’t need trig and American history. And that’s exactly what I was.

  A dead girl going through the motions.

  Just like Houston had said.

  However, a stronger compulsion brought me to the door of my nemesis. It didn’t matter than I wouldn’t need school in a few short weeks. I still felt the need to go. To live my life in the most normal way possible, even if it didn’t matter in the long run.

  Martin was just shutting the door as I stepped across the threshold. My foot stopped the forward motion of the door and for a brief second we had a power struggle. Once again, I felt my temper flare and I glared straight at him. He looked startled and I shoved my way in, no longer concerned about his pettiness.

  I dropped into my seat. The one directly behind Houston. His shoulders turned slightly, but my fingers tapping on the desk’s edge stopped him.

  Not here.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  Martin went through roll call and surprise, surprise he didn’t mark me as tardy. Apparently, he was a bully that just needed to be stood up too. I kept my eyes focused on my desk, unwilling to look up and perhaps catch someone’s eyes.

  Someone like Amber or Houston.

  Neither could have been prepared for my actions this morning. I know I hadn’t been. Part of me knew I should apologize to Amber. She’d been trying to help and normally I wouldn’t have cared what she told Houston, but it seemed she might have seen something I hadn’t. That maybe I was the slightest bit interested in him and maybe he was the slightest bit interested in me.

  It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself viciously. You won’t be around long enough to explore it. The words hurt more than I thought, as I glanced at the back of his head. Dark brown hair curled at the nape of his neck and I fought an unexpected desire to reach for those strands and for a moment, pretend my life was the least bit normal.

  “And don’t forget the abbreviated schedule today for the pep rally,” Martin said, snapping my attention back to him. I glanced at him and then did a double take.

  Ice slithered down my spine as I stared at him. My heart hammered in my chest as horror seeped through me, unable to process what I was seeing.

  His expiration date had changed.

  Chapter Five

  I’d only really understood what the dates meant after my mom’s death. Before that, they were just another countdown to me, like how long before my favorite TV show was going to come on. I hadn’t really pieced the puzzle together until I was thirteen and felt the seconds tick by as my mom drew her last breath.

  Since then I tried not to consider people’s expiration dates too closely. They were there and that was all. Some would die sooner than others, but focusing on that fact would only drive me insane so I learned to distance myself from the k
nowledge.

  Houston had been the exception. His lack of a date had sparked a curiosity in me that I hadn’t felt in years. A resurgence of emotion when it came to death and how long we each had.

  Martin was one of those bastards who was going to live to a ripe old age, probably torturing students until he took his last breath. I’d taken the knowledge for granted.

  Until now.

  Now, he had less than six hours to live.

  I glanced around the room frantically, wondering if all of them were also going to die. A quick glance revealed nothing new. The next death was four years away, nothing I could do about it.

  The thought caught me by surprise.

  Did I intend to do something about Martin’s upcoming death? A man I loathed? I’d never considered trying to save someone. Not after watching my mother die. It seemed pointless. Death was inevitable.

  But why had Martin’s death suddenly changed?

  What had triggered it?

  And was I supposed to do something about it?

  “Hey,” a soft voice broke me from my thoughts and I realized the classroom had emptied, leaving Houston standing in front of me.

  I stood up too quickly, bumping my desk as I did. He reached out a hand, but dropped it when I backed away. Too many thoughts were racing through my head to deal with him right now. I shook my head and he let out a sigh.

  I scrambled from the room, knowing he would follow, because as much as I wanted to escape him, we had every class together. I spent the next couple of hours scanning every person I came across wondering if their date had changed. Nothing stood out to me and I realized I’d stopped looking at people over the years. Maybe it was a form of self-defense, but at some point I’d stopped paying attention to people, to my classmates, to their expiration dates, and their faces. I was startled to see some of them looking back at me.

  When our eyes would meet, even for the briefest of seconds, a connection was formed, and their countdown came to the forefront of my mind. It was an unexpected realization about my talent. I had to really look at a person to know when they were going to die, to feel the countdown inside of me.