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Rise of a D-List Supervillain

Page 21

by Jim Bernheimer


  Oh my God, I thought. What could she possibly see in that asshole? I knew what he saw in her. She was an angel. Why wouldn’t he fall in love with her? Then I saw something I didn’t expect. Something so astonishing that a second later I wasn’t at all sure that it had even happened.

  As Siobhan and Fucking Lennie got to the top of the stairs, she turned her head to look behind her and saw me watching her. For that split second, that blink in time, our eyes met. It was as if she had been looking for me, too.

  As she turned the corner and our eye contact was broken, two things happened. The first was that my thimble-sized bladder signaled to my brain that it was already full. The second was that my brain realized it was drunk already and proceeded to make what turned out to be a very, very bad decision.

  I squeezed, stumbled, and swayed my way through the writhing, jumping, sweaty horde toward where I believed the bathroom to be. On the way, Tonto tried to introduce me to a girl. I couldn’t hear a thing over the music. There was a lot of shouting and gesturing that ended with me giving an apologetic smile and gesturing toward the bathroom. She nodded and smiled as if she thought I was coming back.

  Luck was with me as I found the powder room just off the kitchen, which was as crammed full as the rest of the house. It must have taken me fifteen minutes just to travel across two rooms. Only eleven minutes, my brain whispered. Unfortunately, several other people’s bladders had been talking to mine and they all decided to go to the bathroom at the same time. There was a line. For the men’s room!

  I fidgeted nervously as I imagined Siobhan and Lennie sneaking away to an empty bedroom upstairs. As I waited, I had a few minutes to take in my surroundings. That was when I hatched what my drunken brain thought was a brilliant scheme.

  After waiting through a few seemingly interminable minutes to relieve my bladder, I rushed out of the bathroom and initiated my clever plan. To the annoyance of several of my fellow party goers I swayed, stumbled and bumped through the line of people waiting for the bathroom and as I rounded the corner, my Titanic of a plan was launched.

  As I bumbled my way through the other drunken denizens of the hallway, I pretended to lose my balance and lurched to the left between the last two people before the corner. As I collided with the wall, I allowed my elbow to hit the fire alarm I’d noticed earlier. I kept moving when the alarm blared its klaxon warning. I bounced off the wall and continued to stumble through the crowd as if I had done nothing. I began to get worried because although people were acknowledging the alarm, no one seemed bothered enough to leave the party.

  But then, exactly what I was hoping for happened. There was a loud and almost in unison, “Awww” groan from the crowd as it started to rain inside the house. The alarm was connected to the sprinkler system in the old house. People started to make their way to the doors. I looked up toward the stairs, hoping there wouldn’t be a lengthy delay before Siobhan and Lennie headed out. My hope was rewarded when they came down the hall and descended the stairs moments later. Much to my relief, neither of them appeared to be adjusting their clothes. I fell in step with the crowd as we slowly moved toward the exits.

  When I got outside, I found Greg and Salami, each in clear violation of the open-container laws. “Hey,” I shouted to them over the ruckus of the crowd. “You guys should get rid of those if the cops or fire department are going to show up.”

  “Nah. This happens all the time,” Salami replied. “No worries about the cops, though. This old house isn’t connected to any system. It was probably just some drunk pulling the alarm.”

  “Did anyone see who did it?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if Salami replied because my attention was instantly drawn to Siobhan as she passed by us with Lennie. Her head turned briefly toward me. When I caught her eye, she looked away. Lennie’s hand was on her lower back as he escorted her toward a car parked on the street. My heart was broken, but I couldn’t look away. I kept staring, hoping she wouldn’t leave with him.

  What does she see in him? I wondered. He’s a complete meathead. I was feeling desperate. I knew that if she left with him, my chance with her might be gone for good. Ugh, if she’s with him, I thought, I don’t think I’d want to go out with her after they break up.

  It appeared to be happening whether I liked it or not. He opened the car door and ushered her into the passenger seat. Lennie gave a sly thumbs-up to one of his Zeta brothers as he rounded the end of the car. My heart dropped. It was over. I’d lost her.

  Suddenly, from down the street, an engine roared. I watched, horrified, as a brown pickup truck sped down the street. In almost slow motion, I could see what was going to happen, but I was helpless to stop it. As Lennie reached his car door, the pickup clipped the back of Lennie’s left leg, knocking him to the ground. As he fell forward, his head bounced off the pavement. The truck didn’t slow down. It just sped away. I looked at the rear of the vehicle as it accelerated down the street. There was no license plate. It had happened in the blink of an eye.

  Siobhan jumped out of the car and ran around to where he lay. He wasn’t moving. She just stood there screaming in a high-pitched voice, her hands held to her face. I ran to her, put my arm around her, and guided her away. She was hyperventilating. Lennie’s frat brothers rushed over to surround him. Someone must have called 9-1-1 because a few seconds later, sirens were audible in the distance.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was never good in an emotional crisis, mine or anyone else’s, so I just held Siobhan. Her little body shivered against mine as if she might be cold. I tried to soothe her by stroking her upper arm with my hand. This seemed to calm her a bit. Her head was against my shoulder, my face inadvertently buried in her red hair. It wasn’t frizzy like some Irish girls have. It was soft and smelled like clean sheets and rainwater. For a moment, I enjoyed the closeness of her body and the smell of her hair before the arrival of the ambulance shocked me back to reality. Hopefully, I hadn’t smiled. If I had, I hoped no one had seen me. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw her roommate, Kim, looking at us. She looked pissed.

  Mental note: Be super nice to Kim. If there was one thing I knew about girls, and there’s probably only one, it was that their girlfriends’ opinions could make or break a relationship.

  Siobhan’s breathing slowed. She turned her head when the ambulance pulled up. Fucking Lennie was still lying there motionless—a pool of blood growing around his head. I kind of felt bad thinking of him as Fucking Lennie at a time like this, but he was a meathead and had probably gotten clipped by that truck because he wasn’t looking where he was going.

  Jeez, I’m an asshole, I thought. I hoped no one could see what was in my heart. I was ashamed to admit it, even if only to myself, but a tiny part of me was happy that Lennie got hit because it put Siobhan into my arms. The guilt spread through me. I had hoped something would happen. Something to stop what I thought was going on between Lennie and Siobhan. A part of my brain said it was my fault, because I’d wished for it to happen.

  I had pulled the fire alarm after all, which put us out here where Lennie had gotten hit, so it was kind of my fault. But I wasn’t driving that truck. It’s not my fault. It’s the driver’s fault, and Fucking Lennie’s for stepping into the road without looking. That sounded like the truth, but the truth is just the lie we’ve chosen to believe, and yours may be different than mine.

  I did tell the truth, as much as I could, to the police who questioned me, Siobhan, and several others after the ambulance left. Siobhan stuck by me on the shuttle ride back to the dorm after the party broke up. She seemed to be settling down. “Thanks,” she said. “For being there. You’re London, right?”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “No, it’s Landon.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Siobhan.” It sounded like shiv awn.

  “You’re what?” I replied. I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe I was finally talking to her.

  “Siobhan. It’s my name. Yeah, I know it’s weird, but my mom is nuts about the Irish stuff.”r />
  It dawned on me what she was saying. It was her name. And I had never known how to pronounce it. Now that I knew, those rhymes I sang in my head with her name sounded stupid. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. You know, on the shuttle. It was a complete accident. I swear. I was walking, and then the bus…”

  “I’m sorry I screamed at you,” she said, beginning to blush. “I think that might be the most awful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Me falling on you was the most awful thing you’ve ever seen?” I asked incredulously. I was such a dope. I was so love struck that for a moment, I had forgotten the terrible accident that had, at least for now, brought us together.

  “No,” she said. “The accident. That was awful. I’ve never seen anyone get hit by a car. I hope he’s not dead.”

  “Yeah, me too. I hope he’s all right,” I said. Serves him right, I thought. He shouldn’t have tried to steal my girl. A shudder rippled through me at the thought. I’d never been so vindictive before, but he did kind of steal her from me on move-in day. As long as he’s not dead, my conscience is clear.

  Siobhan and I continued to chat on the shuttle bus until it pulled up in front of the dorm. When the crowd got back to our floor, I headed to the TV lounge with the guys to watch Sports Center and to listen to what everyone was saying about Lennie and the party. I’d just assumed Siobhan would join us, but I felt a tug on my sleeve when I turned.

  She looked me in the eye and said, “Thanks, Landon. I’m pretty tired, so I’m just going to go to my room.”

  In my head, my imagination finished the sentence for her . . . Do you want to come with me?

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t how Siobhan finished the sentence. “See you tomorrow,” she said. Before I had the chance to get disappointed, I saw it again—that slice, that blink in time that told me all I needed to know. She smiled at me, and when she did, her eyes smiled too. I was happy. Finally, I was happy. I only wished my parents were here to see it. Well, my dad anyway. My mom could go fuck herself for all I cared.

  Read more of Phil Taylor’s Time to Lie in September of 2017 from Amber Cove Publishing!

  About the Author

  Jim Bernheimer is the author of several novels and the publisher and editor of three anthologies. He lives in Chesapeake, Virginia with his wife and two daughters while writing whatever four out of the five voices in his head agree on. Visit his website at www.jimbernheimer.com.

  Other Books by the Author

  Horror, Humor, and Heroes Volume I

  Horror, Humor, and Heroes Volume II

  Horror, Humor, and Heroes Volume III

  Horror, Humor, and Heroes Volume IV

  Dead Eye: Pennies for the Ferryman

  Dead Eye 2: The Skinwalker Conspiracies

  Spirals of Destiny Book One: Rider

  Spirals of Destiny Book Two: Sorceress

  Prime Suspects: A Clone Detective Mystery

  Origins of a D-List Supervillain

  Confessions of a D-List Supervillain

  Secrets of a D-List Supervillain

  The best is yet to come!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Rednecks, and Tigers, and Imposters, Oh My!

  Chapter Two

  An Idea Millions of Years in the Making

  Chapter Three

  A Conflict of Biblical Proportions

  Chapter Four

  Awful Truths Disguised as Pillow Talk

  Chapter Five

  When a Big Reveal Flops

  Chapter Six

  Sometimes a Naked Woman is a Bad Thing

  Chapter Seven

  Fight Night in Vegas

  Chapter Eight

  Getting a Bad Raptor

  Chapter Nine

  Shoplifting from the Company Store

  Chapter Ten

  The Many Deaths of José Six-Pack

  Chapter Eleven

  Why Heroism Can Sometimes Be Like Herpes

  Chapter Twelve

  When Four Heads Aren’t Better Than One

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Unsightly Aftermath

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Last Moment Just Before the Fall

  Amber Cove Publishing is Proud to Present

  Time to Lie – by Phil Taylor

  About the Author

 

 

 


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