The End of the World As We Know It

by Iva-Marie Palmer

  He wasn’t used to it.

  He was the guy who read girls like books—and by books, he meant simple books with no subtext, like the Berenstain Bears, not fucking James Joyce. But Sarabeth was more complex than Ulysses. A metaphor, like he’d told Evan. No, a metaphor wrapped in a simile with some intransitive verbs for good measure.

  Their legs were touching on the lounger, and they were both looking up at the ceiling, as though there were a starry sky to see above them and not just a banner encouraging couples to start their wedding registry at Bed Bath & Beyond.

  “So, what do you think Teena and Evan are up to?” Leo finally asked, cursing himself almost as soon as the question left his lips. It sounded kind of creepy to ask, plus it brought up Teena. Sarabeth didn’t yet know about him and Teena, and he really didn’t want to make her insecure. And besides, he knew what they were “up to.” Teena had led Brighton to bedding. Leo was glad his advice to Evan had worked, and it didn’t sting even a little to see Teena saunter away. He was happy for them.

  Sarabeth swirled the liquor in her glass. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I don’t think we should bother them. Unless it’s an emergency.”

  Leo reached out and grabbed her arm. “Believe me,” he said. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here.” It was total cheese, but it was true.

  Sarabeth’s long lashes fluttered against her cheek as she raised her eyes to look at him. “Really?”

  Leo shook his head and laughed, almost disbelieving. How could she not see right through him? He felt like the skin above his chest should have gone transparent by now, so she could see his heart single-mindedly beating away while ticker tape that read SARABETH over and over again came spiraling out of it.

  He took her hand. “Yeah, really,” he said. “I mean, well, how do I put this? Remember that day in string ensemble, when I was trying to pull off that mash-up?”

  Sarabeth squinted at him. “You mean the Chopin-meets-Pantera thing?”

  Leo grinned. “Yeah, that one. You practically ripped my balls off over that. I mean, you didn’t, and I thank you for that, but you totally let me have it. It was unusual.”

  “What, because usually girls are impressed when you mix classical string compositions with death metal?” Sarabeth raised an eyebrow.

  “No, they’re probably not, but most wouldn’t tell me so,” Leo said. “You have conviction.”

  “Sometimes I wish I knew how to break the rules like you. You get to be Mr. Improvisation, and I’m still looking for sheet music to play along with.” Sarabeth looked at her bent knees with a half-smile. “Also, I think I said I would snap your bow in half. Your balls never entered the equation.”

  She was too much. Leo tried to determine if she’d moved a little closer on the chaise longue in the time they’d been talking. Or had she moved farther away?

  “Well, you’ve been breaking the rules tonight. It was half your idea to take this recess at the mall. If it makes any difference, I’ve liked you since then.” Leo searched her face for some reaction, but he didn’t feel like she had one. Oh well, it felt good to just tell her. He’d never been so honest with a girl before.

  “Since four hours ago?” Sarabeth smirked.

  “No, since that day in string ensemble.”

  Now would be the time to kiss her. Right? When had he gotten so neurotic? He felt like his life would be incomplete if he died tomorrow not having kissed Sarabeth.

  He looked at her, trying to gauge her face for a sign. He couldn’t tell. She was staring back at him, but he wasn’t sure if her studious look was one of mutual admiration or one of how-do-I-tell-this-creep-to-leave-me-alone? He could lean in and go for it. Or he could keep talking and hope she seemed more receptive.

  But then she was kissing him. While he was trying to man up, Sarabeth had taken matters into her own hands and kissed him. And the kiss was … good. Good verging on life-altering. And was that her tongue flicking ever so faintly against his? Holy shit, she was a good kisser.

  Okay, he could die now.

  Then her hands ran up his back, her graceful fingers lightly brushing his neck.

  All right, he could die now, but he really hoped he got to stick around for more of this.

  In response, he touched the sides of her face, his fingertips running along her jawline, tickling the delicate skin of her neck just under her ear. She kissed him harder, and he let his hands wander down her sides, the curves of her body pressing into his palm as he did so.

  Hard as it was to do, he pulled back from her and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “Is this just an end-of-the-world thing, or do you like me, too?”

  Sarabeth just grinned devilishly. “Maybe a little bit of both.” She kissed his jaw, and then his neck, right alongside his throat, and he sucked in a breath at how insanely good it felt. His baser instincts wanted more of her, all of her, but the noble Leo, who had just started showing his face tonight, knew she would be worth waiting for.

  He pulled back from her again. “So, can I ask you something really cheesy?” He started playing with Sarabeth’s hair again, partly because he liked the way it felt around his finger and partly because he liked the way she looked at him when he did it, like it was a totally novel sensation for someone to be touching her hair like this.

  “Of course, I’d expect no less,” Sarabeth said.

  “If we survive this thing, will you be my date for prom?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Prom’s in May. I’d hope you could at least take me mini-golfing before then.”

  Leo rolled his eyes. “Total given. Haunted Trails.” He named the horror-movie-themed putt-putt course a few towns over. “But I need an answer on prom.”

  “I’ll pencil it in.” Sarabeth’s half smile raised the bar on all half smiles till the end of time.

  “Pencil? You don’t pencil in prom. That’s pen all the way.”

  “Pencil. You might back out on me if the theme song is some irritatingly forgettable ballad from a very special episode of a CW show.”

  “Nope, I’m in for all the slow dances. And I’ll even get one of those tuxedo belts that match your dress, like we tried on at Macy’s.”

  “Cummerbunds?”

  “Cummer what? Sorry, Sarabeth, I’m not that kind of boy.”

  She laughed then, throwing her head back and giggling wildly. Leo knew that he was a goner.

  He kissed her again, so that he wouldn’t blurt out I love you and freak her the hell out.

  They went on like that for a while, kissing until they both needed to try breathing for a little while. Sarabeth laid her head on Leo’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Their bodies fit together nicely, he thought.

  “Should we get some sleep?” Leo said.

  “We could try,” Sarabeth said, and he liked that he could hear in her voice that she was enjoying this as much as he was. “First, I need to find a ladies’ room.”

  Leo sat up, easing Sarabeth up with him. “There’s one just inside the mall. I’ll go with you.”

  Sarabeth smiled. “That’s okay,” she said. “I have to maintain some mystery, don’t I? I’ll take a flashlight.”

  She grabbed her flashlight and a Gussy Me Up tote bag where he knew she’d stashed a notebook with some drawings she’d done of the ship. Leo wondered if maybe she’d written something about him in the little journal, too, and that was why she didn’t leave him alone with it. She kissed him once more in a way that made him look forward to prom and not for the reason most people looked forward to prom. He wanted to see her come down the stairs in some dress made amazing because she was wearing it. He wanted to slow dance with her for all the world to see. Forget his bull-crap, kiss-her-once-die-happy sentiment of moments before.

  She’d given him what he wanted to live for.

  28

  JUST ANOTHER SAD LOVE SONG

  Sarabeth Lewis, 4:21 A.M. Monday, Orland Ridge Mall

  Sarabeth almost skipped to the bathroom,
her lips feeling fuzzy and a little raw from Leo’s two days of stubble grazing them. And grazing them. And grazing them …

  She passed the Claire’s boutique and Gloria Jean’s Coffees. She flitted past the site of her earlier party-outfit anxiety, Charlie. She hung a left down the hallway where the mall bathrooms were, shining her flashlight down the long corridor. A little creepy, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

  Especially after what had just happened. She’d kissed him. Her first kiss, and she’d gone for it. She’d surprised Leo Starnick. She’d kind of surprised herself, too.

  She hoped that this side of her wasn’t coming out just because it was the end of the world. She didn’t want her new self to retreat back into its neatly organized shell when all this was over. If all this was ever over …

  She used the restroom and stopped on her way out to look at her reflection, shining the flashlight into the mirror so she could see. Her mouth was bright red and a little chafed from kissing. The skin around it looked a little bitten. Her hair was matted down on one side, and her chest was a little flushed. She had never looked better. Okay, yeah, so she definitely had the goofy expression of a crazy person, but a wildly happy crazy person.

  She was in love. Wasn’t she? She didn’t have anything to compare it to.

  “How messed up am I?” she asked the mirror un-self-consciously. “Who falls in love when they’re surrounded by violence and carnage, weirdo?”

  She shrugged. Maybe people did fall in love in dire circumstances. Maybe it was part of what kept the world going. Because even without an alien attack, it wasn’t like the world was normally all puppies and kittens and rainbows. A lot of it sucked, and people fell in love amid the wreckage all the time. They laughed and kissed and went to prom. Ha, prom. She was going to prom. It was like she’d finally joined the teenage human race.

  Sarabeth’s whole life felt new. She felt new. And not just for being in love. If she could survive this, everything else really didn’t matter.

  Even so, she still needed to wash her hands before she returned to Leo. She didn’t want to fight aliens while fighting one of those late-winter colds. The tap ran freezing cold, but she closed her eyes and soaped up her hands, singing the song they’d all sung in the car that morning.

  “It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.”

  And then, she smelled coffee. Really, really good coffee.

  It took her a few seconds to remember that the Gloria Jean’s down the hall was not brewing today. Nothing was brewing today.

  She opened her eyes, saw the purple aliens’ reflections in the mirror behind her, and screamed.

  Have you ever screamed?

  Like, really screamed.

  Not one of those fake shrieks you do when you see someone you haven’t seen in a long time and feel like you have to make a bigger deal out of it than it is.

  Not an “OMG, this roller coaster is so fast and we’re all going to diiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!” scream.

  Not a movie scream. In the movies, no one gets a true scream quite right.

  Really screaming isn’t something you do on purpose. It’s something you can’t not do. It’s like a giant hand is reaching down your throat and ripping out your entire voice all at once. It burns. And it leaves a mark. The kind that no one knows is there but you.

  So, you may think you’ve screamed before. But if you’re lucky, you never have and you never will.

  29

  THIS IS NOT A DRILL

  Teena McAuley, 4:29 A.M. Monday, Bed Bath & Beyond

  Sarabeth’s scream ripped through the mall, making a beeline for Teena. Teena shot up off the floral bedspread where she’d been curled up. She ran through the store, doom pressing down on her.

  Though it took her just seconds to reach their camp in the outdoor furniture section, Leo was already tearing out of the store. He must have tripped over the Crock-Pot of candles, because a rainbow of wax had congealed on the floor. At least nothing was on fire. Evan was steps behind him, baseball bat in hand, not even looking back for Teena, just racing out into the mall corridor to find Sarabeth.

  Normally, this show of emotion for someone other than her would have irritated Teena, but right now, she couldn’t have cared less. She had been jealous of Sarabeth, yes. She’d wished she was gone, yes. But in the last couple hours, since Evan had taken her down a notch, she’d realized Sarabeth wasn’t the problem. She was.

  “What the fuck?” she huffed, her heart still skittering madly in her chest as she caught up to Leo, running alongside him. They clipped past Gloria Jean’s, Claire’s, and GameStop. Leo looked straight ahead, his face pale and panicked. She looked over her shoulder for more aliens. The mall seemed as empty as when they’d arrived. “Why weren’t you with her?”

  Leo was a ghost. He stared blankly, like all his words had left him.

  “Where was she going?” Evan asked, matching Leo’s long strides. He avoided Teena’s eyes. She was avoiding his, too, but out of shame, not anger. She’d used him, and he didn’t deserve it. At least there was no time to make heartfelt apologies. She didn’t know what to say anyway.

  “Where did she go, Leo? Did you piss her off?” Her breath came out fast, and her heart vibrated in her chest.

  “No,” he croaked. “She went to the bathroom.” He turned down the corridor that led to the restrooms. The hallway was lined with posters for store sales and new movies. Except for the eerie and dark quiet, it almost looked like life was going on as usual.

  Leo slammed open the door for the women’s restroom. Empty. Teena’s stomach rose and dropped as the door shut behind them. They checked every stall twice and then they checked the stalls of the men’s room with the same frantic energy.

  “Maybe she’s in the mall,” Evan said to Leo. “Maybe she ran.”

  The guys took off back down the corridor, yelling Sarabeth’s name. Teena hung back, looking for clues. In the rush to find Sarabeth, they’d forgotten flashlights, but Teena’s eyes had adjusted, and some moonlight still filtered in through the mall skylights. There were no overt signs of a struggle. Actually, there were no signs Sarabeth had been here at all. Teena checked the women’s restroom for the third time, stall by stall as if she could have missed something. Nothing. She turned to go find the guys. Before she got to the door, she skidded across the floor, landing on her butt in a puddle of something that felt like salad dressing and smelled like coffee.

  Dread pulsed through her. Okay, they’d definitely been here. She stayed on the floor, crawling to follow the trail of slime. I must really like Sarabeth if I’m on hands and knees on the floor of a public restroom, she thought. The trail led to an employee exit door that took her to the parking lot. But that was all she could see. She could hazard a guess that once outside, the aliens had used their jet packs.

  As she got back inside, Leo and Evan were still calling for Sarabeth. She ran in the direction of their voices and found them each standing at opposite ends of the decorative fountain, hollering and craning their necks in search of Sarabeth. They both looked as hopeless as she felt.

  “They got her,” Teena said. “I found a trail of slime leading out the door.”

  “Why did they go without the rest of us?” Leo asked, seeming angry that he hadn’t been taken.

  “Maybe they knew she was our best hope of surviving, and her boyfriend just let her take off unattended,” Teena said, surprised it didn’t sting to call Leo Sarabeth’s boyfriend. “I knew we should have gone straight to the ship.”

  “Gee, thanks, Teena. I wouldn’t have realized what an asshole I was without your help,” Leo said. His hair was a mess, and he looked older without his mouth drawn up in its usual smirk. “I get it. I’m a fuck-up, case closed.”

  “Leave it alone, Teena,” Evan said in a low, cold voice. “It happened. There’s no going back now.”

  He still wouldn’t look at her. Teena held in the tears that wanted to emerge. She didn’t have anything to say in response. This was worse tha
n being rejected by Leo or taken to task by Evan. It felt like they didn’t even want her there.

  She wanted to snap necks and bust heads and shoot the shit out of something.

  This whole ordeal was just too much to take. But she needed to be more than angry. She wanted to take the higher ground for a change, not just carry out revenge for her own purposes. So she said, in what she hoped was an inspiring voice, “No, but we can go forward.”

  “I know,” Leo said, turning his back on her and heading to the employee exit.

  “Where are you going?” Teena asked, feeling bad that she’d blamed him. It wasn’t really his fault. They hadn’t been prepared, and they had needed the rest.

  “Isn’t it obvious? To the ship, to save Sarabeth,” Evan said as he followed at Leo’s heels. His tone was matter-of-fact, and cold.

  “You can’t just go. You’re not ready.” Teena ran out in front of them.

  Leo rolled his eyes. “You would say that. You hate her, anyway.”

  “I don’t hate her,” Teena said, knowing it was true. “I want us to save her. But we can’t if we die.”

  “Fuck, two seconds ago you were blaming me for not going straight to the ship,” Leo said. “And now, when it’s more important than ever for us to get there, you want me to hang out at the mall a little longer?”

  “I’m sorry for what I said. But you weren’t totally wrong last night,” Teena said, desperation coating her words. She tried to connect with Leo, so he’d see her motives were true. “We can’t just storm in unarmed, like you said. We probably should have spent the last night preparing, but all of us were having fun, not just you. I don’t regret anything that happened.” She gave Evan a meaningful look. It had been a good kiss. If only she hadn’t cut it short.

  “Fun’s over,” Leo said. “I’m going. Evan, you with me?”

  “Absolutely,” Evan said. Teena was still on his list of regrets, clearly. “I don’t want to stay here, that’s for sure.” He practically hurled the remark at her like one of his fastballs.