Faking Apocalypse (The Apocalyptic Games Book 1)

by Damien Steinfield

  And today she’s at the angriest she could be. That’s probably fueled by the fact that I’m twenty minutes late to the moment I usually get up, and that I can see no intention to leave the comfortableness of my own bed for another twenty.

  “Greyson,” she shouts, angrier this time.

  And now I’m awake.

  Goddammit, my mother’s high-pitched umbrageous chords!

  I reach for the bathroom first, and realize I’m way past the time I took a shower, and the only thing at hand at this point is taking a piss and brushing my teeth. I do both hastily and then find myself an outfit for the day, which takes me less than two minutes to pick out and have it on, and then brush my hair, which are left perfectly at the condition I slept with last night. Good thing I’m wearing a messy hairstyle nowadays. I mean, I do not need to dry them, since I didn’t take a shower at the first place, but even because that going into this process usually takes me fifty minutes which I do not have at the moment.

  There’s not even enough time to have breakfast.

  I’m considering only grabbing an apple to go, had it not been for my mother pestering me to have one of her classic crumpets, that I always have time to crave for, though not today. Boy, there’s not time for anything today.

  My brother Ethan, waddles across the kitchen, so smug as always, ransacking one of my mother’s specialties and taking a bite at it.

  “Hey, you.” I can see he’s in the mood to poke fun at how dizzy and lazy I am in the morning. He always does that. But you know. Gotta love your brothers! “Why on earth are you wearing my shirt?”

  “Um, it’s not your shirt. I found it on my closet.” I frown defensively and pore down at the shirt. It’s his.

  “God, I hate it when you wear my things. Mom, did you accidentally swapped it when doing laundry?” He looks at her stiffly and expectantly, voice little less than a crank.

  “Oh, I might have accidentally put it on his room. But why are you making such a fuss at it? It’s no big deal.”

  “I think it’s not your due to say that. I’m the one who decides whether I have a problem at it or not.”

  I look at them having this morning little fight. It’s adorable.

  “Honey, would you be dear and try only one of these on?” my mom offers me one of the perfect crumpets. I look at it suspiciously.

  “I—I really don’t have time. I’ll grab this apple to go,” I say as I snatch out a perfect green one out of the oddments of fruits on the kitchen counter. “This will do.”

  She gives me that mom hurt-feeling look. And boy you don’t wanna piss off your mom!

  “Okay,” I grab a crumpet from the plate and take hold of my backpack. “I gotta go now.”

  “Hey,” I hear Ethan gnarling from behind. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re my ride.”

  “God, you’re such a crybaby.” I poke fun at him this time and get out of the kitchen door that leads to the patio which links the pool to the driveway.

  I hop in the car and start off the engine. Although, I wait for Ethan for a couple of seconds. I know he’ll hurry his way to the car as soon as I feel ready to pull off the driveway.

  He jumps on the passenger seat and swings around to throw his backpack to the backseat and then comforts himself on the leather of my car.

  “Why in such a hurry today, mucker? You’re stealing my T-shit, the least you gotta do is driving me wherever I tell you to.”

  Ethan enjoys mucking about and bossing over, though it always turns out funny, and that’s probably because he’s the whoopee type of guy, the one who never takes a thing seriously, or excepts taking responsibility… any responsibility!

  “Yeah, whatever,” I say and pull the car out the driveway. “Brace yourself, this is the last year you take advantage of my driving skills. This time next year you’re gonna have to drive your fancy ass to school, and wherever, yourself.” I say, taking into account the fact that it is my last year in the city before I take over to whatever college that I still haven’t thought of. I mean, I’m taking everything so leisurely, though I gotta hurry. One year goes by, and you find yourself wondering, ‘what if I had done things differently?’ And boy I don’t want to come to that point.

  “I’ve got lacrosse at four in the afternoon. I need you to pick me up, unless my friend Duke decides to take me home.”

  “Yeah? Just text me whatever the decision is. I can make us some time.”

  “Make up time? Got any mighty plans tonight?” he takes over that teasing smug on the face.

  “Well, me and Zoey thought to…”

  “Oh, now I see,” he tickles at my stomach and punches my arm. See? He’s so irresponsible! So what if I’m driving both of us and there’s potential danger doing silly things one could do while chilling? But this? This is hazardous. But does he care? (He doesn’t.) “Hey, be careful there. Do you want us to bump into a tree or worse?”

  “Hey, don’t get so serious and dramatic.” At least, now he’s resting on his seat and leaving me calm and focused. “Anyway. What sort of plan was that you were having with the fancy pants of a girlfriend of yours?”

  “Well, as of today, we are officially making two years together. I thought that deserved something special.”

  “Aw, man, congratz,” he nudged my arm. Oh, boy, not again! “So, where are you taking her?”

  “Well, I thought to bring her to that cupcake’s shop we had our first date to, and I’ve got tickets to theater after that.”

  “Isn’t that what you did on your first date?” he frowns, not getting the idea.

  “Well, exactly. Imma reenacting our first date.”

  “Oh,” and now he gets it! “Man, that’s so cool.” This time he nudges me so hard I almost pull over in the middle of the driveway. I maneuver and keep speeding, without having as much as a couple of seconds to gather myself after that scratchy sound we bumped into.

  Ethan seems shut by the way. He’s not saying anything, not nudging or tickling me. This event has gotten him speechless in his passenger seat, trying to come off the previous situation.

  Well, at least I get to bring ourselves to school safe and sound, as long as he keeps remaining calm and serene on his seat, which is highly doubtful.

  ~.~.~

  “Hey, cuppycakers,” Zoey opens her arms waiting to embrace me into a suffocating hug, as I’m waddling on the school lot.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier,” I say as soon as I find myself wrapped up on her clutch and then give her a quick kiss. “I had to give Ethan a ride.” I keep on explaining.

  “Aw, that’s nice.” She says. Zoey loves Ethan. And he likewise. Unlike me who think he’s a narcissistic smug-face who doesn’t give a hoot to as much as anything in this world. Well besides that, I absolutely love my brother. “Hey, Ethan,” I hear her shout and it pitches through my earlobe. Zoey waved joyously at him. Ethan turns around from the other part of the lot and waves back. And then he does some silly, typical gestures at me regarding Zoey and I’s anniversary.

  I ditched it, hard.

  “Why is Ethan doing these weird gestures?” she raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Hmm,” I frown. “He’s referring our anniversary.”

  Her eyebrow reaches the highest it could get: “What anniversary do you and Ethan have to celebrate?”

  “Not Ethan and I’s.” I laugh at her, noses tangling. “Our anniversary.”

  “Oh, God,” she hollos. “I totally forgot about that. I’m so sorry. Oh, cuppycakers, I can’t believe I forgot out second anniversary. I feel so bad about it.”

  “Nah, it’s cool. As long as you stop calling me that silly name.”

  “What? Cuppycakers? I love that name.” Her nose wrinkled at the edges and I love how cute she looks when in incertitude. I kiss the top of her nose.

  “Yeah, that!” I confirm.

  “What? Would you rather I call you cherub, or daredevil… or…” she’s trying to find something that sounds more horrendous as th
e two firsts. I can tell by the way her nose wrinkles even more. “Firecracker?”

  “I get it.” I say, trying to get her to stop coming up with these terrifying of names. Where does she find those anyway? “But, how about just Greyson, or… love.”

  “Well, that sounds cool and wonderfully random.”

  “Maybe random is more acceptable sometimes.”

  “Hmm,” she tipped her bottom lip with the index finder, pondering, eyes squinting. “I’ll try to find us a more suitable term of endearment. Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me what your plans are for today?”

  “Hmm, I think you’re gonna have to wait for that. I want it to be a surprise.” I try to be stubborn.

  We hear the bell ringing as a significant of the first period being started in less than a few minutes. Zoey and I attend the same classes, and actually that’s how we’ve met. Chemical class was where it all began. Can I call it ‘where the chemistry began’? Get it? ‘Cause of the romance.

  Anyway. We were laboratory partners and we didn’t even realize that. I liked Zoey just when I first saw her, pretty eyes, cherry lips, easygoing and a little bossy. But, then again. Everyone likes Zoey. She might be the most likable person on the planet. It’s so hard not to like her.

  You might wonder: Greyson, was it love at first sight? Well, easy over there, sugar. Zoey might be the most easygoing, likable person I know, but when it comes to being in a relationship, she’s a real pain in the ass. Okay, I way exaggerated this, but really, first-hand, she was always faultfinding me at every wrong element I put on the glasswares or every formula I added wrong. Which I might say, sometimes I did terrible mistakes (mainly because I was so taken by her irresistible presence nearby me, I paid less attention to the chem) but then again, there were other times when she was the one to blame (which I still can’t explain since she’s a hands-down chem prodigy) but I would never dare putting highlight to it, and always ended up taking the blame… and might I add, delightfully so. That is because she was so attractive, you would never wanna blame anything on her, even if she did the most terrific, horrendous mistake, even though such thing never happened. After these not so flourishing events, I decided to take her on a date one night, with the pretense it was a chem take-up. And really, she had no idea it was all a well planned out date until I occasionally showed her the two tickets and invited her watching the movie with me, since my friend bailed on me last moment. She hesitated for a while, but I knew it was just some suspense effect she wanted to have over me and that she’d say yes right away. And she did. But before leaving the cupcake’s shop, as I was stuffing my notebook on my backpack, I realized our other pages that we were working on were all interlaced and as trying to take apart our own stuff from that mishmash on the table, I decided to hit it off, dispatch my attention from chem files and focus on her lips. They were so pretty, soft and well-designed and looked ready to be kissed. So I did it. Out lips touched and that’s where it happened.

  Now that was such a ballsy move to take, since you might wonder: Greyson, how come she didn’t bail on you, too, last minute decision?

  Well, go figure!

  No, really. It turns out either she was so fond of me too and has ever since had a secret crush on me just like I did, or my kiss was so irresistible that totally blew her mind away, leaving her with an unmanageable urge to wanting to get kissed by me for two other years in a raw, ‘cause that’s how awesome my kiss was.

  Hmm.

  Yeah, it probably might have been the first resolution. Though who cares, the fact that she had liked me was just as awesome as me being a good kisser.

  But, anyway. You all know now. That’s out first, cute, little story together. And to my surprise this story had prolonged itself during two years, and seemingly neither of us was getting bored or tired.

  “So would you tell me?” she gives that irresistible smile of hers trying to cajole me into revealing my plans for today. “I don’t know where your head’s at.”

  “Hmm?” I pretend I didn’t quite grasp what she was saying.

  Zoey and I’s love is so much stronger than I might’ve expected in the beginning of this relationship. She’s so gorgeous, it’s so hard to not focus on her when she’s around, or when she’s not. Really, that’s how irreversible to defy is the force of gravity, that is Zoey. I can clearly recall the moment I first saw her. I mean, she’s somebody that stands out to me on that first day. That was a spark that we were having. Zoey comes off as intimidating to people, being that she’s really hot and astonishing, but on the other hand, profound, intellectual things are her jam. And the best part, which makes me the most excited about, is that she reciprocates those same exact feelings. And at this point I think it’s only fair to stay true to your heart, and my heart leads me to her.

  I mean, I could just keep gabbing about her eternally, ‘cause that’s how awesome she is, but, anyway, let’s get back to the point.

  As we’re waddling towards the hallways, holding hands, and she’s asking me about my plans for today, I seem to notice something strange around our school. Normal school hallways are inundated with rumbustious people chit-chatting and having silly moments together. Strange school hallways are capacitated with the most systematic line of people, concatenated so perfectly as though in a cosmic arrangement, where planets and stars and comets are lined up the same exact calculated way for the universe to progress arrantly.

  Today is one of those days.

  “So I think it’s only fair you share your true feelings at this point,” she adds.

  “Zoey, what do you want to know?”

  “Your plans?” she says demandingly, voice crawling in expectation.

  “What is going on here?”

  “What? Nothing’s going on. All is fine.”

  “No, I mean, look around.” I chin at the crowd.

  “Oh,” she frowns. Clearly, she had been so encumbered into trying to trick me into telling her what my plans for today are, she had totally been inattentive towards these strange of events around us.

  “What day is today?”

  “Just an ordinary October day.”

  “No Halloween, no thanksgiving? I don’t think I can add much more to the list of irreversibleness. I’m out of options, so, let’s find out.”

  I kinda howl a little as she drags me unnoticedly by the hand and hasten towards the crowd of people.

  “Carter, what is going on?” she asks our friend, mildly.

  “There’s some announcement they have to make for the seniors. It’s about some special testing program of something.”

  “Already?” Zoey scoffs.

  “That’s strange.” I frown, too. Something about these kinds of events doesn’t add up.

  “Hey, shell parakeets,” Cody, my best mate, adds himself in between, by shoving off me and Zoey, jostling his hands on our shoulders and putting us apart.

  That’s classic Cody by the way. He makes himself comfortable even in places he’s not supposed to.

  We stay there for a couple of minutes until the dean makes an appearance and starts to explain what the intention of us being there was. And she starts telling us, there’s some allegiant indicative test we all are to be submitted to and that it will have tremendous influence on our final high school scores, which will subsequently implicate our college admissory applications.

  The rest of the day at school goes quite normal expect for some forms they give us with the excuse they will help us on our test performances. Even though I don’t give much of a hoot to this crap, being that my mind is inundated with the next plans on my agenda for today, which is the commemorable date on spot with Zoey. God, I can’t wait to it.

  5

  I keep track of each single day we spend here at the resurrection tower. It’s been already a week. I’ve been bounding the pill off ever since. Me and Andrew are becoming closer, which I can’t say the same thing when it comes to Zoey. She’s starting to seem quite amicable with one of the guys of the crew. I hate him.
He’s relatively young, maybe just a couple of years older than her, and he’s obviously good looking, and helps keep the tower in order, attentive to unordinary events that might take place, which up to this point, there’s none.

  I keep stabbing at my chicken soba noodles aimlessly.

  “What’s up with you today?” Carter asks me. “You might just as well skip over lunch rather than playing with your food.”

  I don’t respond, and don’t even make the tiniest effort to dispatch from my vortex of contemplation. But then, decide to barge in right where I want to and ask Zoey (since she’s the epicenter I’m ruminating over) about her new turning point.

  “How’s you new boyfriend?” I ask.

  “Hmm?” she crunches on her chockful of noodles. Seemingly, I caught her off guards with my unexpected question. “He’s fine.” She looks confused somewhere in the air, hesitating to give the answer. Probably she’s trying to figure the purpose of my inquiry. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, just… nothing.” I say. And sway my head and decide to take the first bite on my food, which I’ve been playing with up to this moment.

  “Is everything okay, Greyson?” she raises an eyebrow. My answer doesn’t seem to have convinced her.

  “Well, of all the people you could’ve started dating in here, you choose him.” The miff on my tone startles even me a little, let alone Zoey. So, I decide to mild my comportments a little and try to relax on my seat.

  “What is wrong with Caden?”

  “Well, nothing’s wrong with Caden, except that he’s the enemy here.”

  “He’s not the enemy.”

  “He works with the enemy, Zoey. It’s the same thing.” Soon enough I realize that my tone is making her confused, and not only her at that. People from the tables around are starting to take notice. That’s when I become a little less… irascible.