Razor Girl

by Marianne Mancusi

  “What about you?” she asked Chase. “Are you immune?”

  He grinned. “I don’t know. Never let one get close enough to find out. I’m called Chase for a reason.”

  “You’ve been lucky,” Tank reminded him. “But luck doesn’t hold out forever. Especially for people as foolhardy as you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “See? You’re as bad as the children.”

  Chase stuck up his middle finger, then grabbed a nearby shopping cart and whirled it around. The wheels squeaked in protest. “Come on, let’s go get your supplies,” he said to Molly. To Tank he said, “I’ll relieve Rocky when I’m done.”

  “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when he rips you a new one.”

  “It’s cool, Tank. I’ll deal. We’ll only be a few minutes anyway.”

  Chase made the cart do a wheelie and then pushed it down the aisle. Molly followed, a little disconcerted. She didn’t get him. He acted angry one moment then completely blasé the next. What was up with him? Neither personality fit what she remembered. He’d been a sweet, earnest boy who’d sacrifice everything if only someone asked.

  Of course, in a way she had asked. And he’d sacrificed. And then she’d rejected that sacrifice without ever offering an explanation. It was no wonder he acted a bit resentful. She’d likely feel the same way.

  He turned left, pushing the cart in front of him. Away from the laughter and light, the store started seeming a bit spookier. With only Chase’s dim flashlight working, Molly activated the night vision option on her implants in order to drive away the imagined ghosts. It was then that she realized Chase was looking at her strangely.

  “What?” she asked. Did he think she was a freak like Darla and Red had but was too polite to say it?

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I can’t believe you’re actually here. I never thought I’d see you again.” He tossed a large backpack into the cart, followed by a water purifier and some bottles. “You know, after you stood us up and all.”

  She stifled a sigh. Here came the anger. She deserved it, she guessed. But that wouldn’t make the feelings easier to handle. She wished there was a way to move on without a discussion. She wished…

  “I never thought I’d see you again, either,” she said, realizing the comment sounded lame and patronizing. After all, it’d been her choice. Sort of.

  He stopped the cart and looked at her. She couldn’t read his expression. “You know, I waited for you,” he said.

  She hung her head, guilt gnawing at her insides as she pictured the scene. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  He stayed still, staring at her so hard she felt naked. “What happened?” he said at last. “Why didn’t you come, Molly? After all that we talked about, why didn’t you show?”

  Gone was all the arrogance, the cocky grin. In its place was vulnerability, an old hurt he’d probably tried to bury for years. Anguish flickered across his handsome face. It made her want to answer. To explain it all away. But she knew that he wouldn’t understand, and her explanation would only hurt him further. What was done was done and there was no taking it back. Better to move forward.

  “Does it really matter?” she asked. “I mean, will it make any difference?”

  He sighed, looking disappointed. After a moment he made up his mind. “I guess not,” he said. “Forget it. Sorry I asked.”

  She forced herself to turn away, unable to bear the pain radiating from his body like heat from a fire. But she was a razor girl with a mission, not just Molly Anderson from his past. She was the worst person in the world and knew it. She’d hurt him before and here she was, hurting him all over again. She could lie to him, try to smooth over the past, but what would that help? Every answer led to his continued pain. It would have been better had they never re united.

  “Can we just concentrate on the supplies?” she suggested.

  He nodded and switched gears abruptly, turning off his emotions. He’d probably had to do that a lot over the years. Just like she had. She fought the urge to spit as he led her down several more aisles.

  “Okay,” he said, throwing a few last things into the cart. “We’ve got you a backpack, dehydrated food, a water purifier, a solar flashlight, a sleeping bag and a tent. What else do you think you’ll need?”

  “How about a mule to carry it?” She groaned, looking at the almost full cart. The realities of the trip were beginning to sink in, and it wasn’t looking pretty.

  “Mule, no,” Chase said. “We might be able to score you a horse, though. Ever ridden one?”

  She raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Yes,” she said. “I had lessons when I was a kid. Are horses still around, though—I mean, somewhere we could get one?”

  “Sure.” He nodded. “We rounded some up after we came out of the shelter. They’re great for transportation now that cars don’t really work. You must have noticed how the roads are all blocked up. We have like five or six in a makeshift stable. I’ll see if Tank’s cool with you taking one. I doubt it’ll be a problem.”

  “Thanks, that’d be great.” She felt an overwhelming relief. Trekking to Disney on horse back would be a heck of a lot easier than on foot or bike. “I owe you, man.”

  Chase gave her another look. “Before we head back,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you, okay?”

  “What?” she asked, wondering what on Earth it could be.

  He beckoned for her to follow. “Follow,” he said. “And you’ll see.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Chris passed his own house that afternoon, his step light and his mouth involuntarily quirking. He couldn’t help a half-grin despite the weightiness of the problem he’d set out to solve. He couldn’t believe his luck! Molly Anderson had invited him over after school. Sure, it was just to help investigate Mrs. McCormick’s weird disappearance, but he’d take what he could get. He’d been looking for an excuse to talk to her since first grade, when she’d yelled at him for pulling her braids, and not even the solemnity of this occasion could dispel a small thrill of excitement.

  He approached her house, his heart pounding in anticipation. Maybe after they’d talked to her dad, she would invite him to dinner. Or maybe they could go out for a soda. They’d start talking and she’d see that he was more than just the dork she assumed. He knew that, just given an opportunity, he could be the perfect guy for her. He just knew it. All he needed was a chance.

  She was turned away from him in her driveway, a basketball in her hands. There was a hoop above her, and she shot at it. He squinted, surprised. She was playing basketball? Real-life basketball? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone play an actual sport. Then he remembered the rumors he’d heard. Her dad was some kind of crazy conspiracy theorist who didn’t even let her own a sim deck. Chris hadn’t believed it, though. Honestly, who didn’t have a sim deck in this day and age? And besides, he’d seen her cheering on the virtual sidelines of Basketball Dayz plenty of times. So maybe it wasn’t true. Still, there she was, outside and playing real-life basketball, which was weird to say the least.

  He stood at the end of the driveway for a moment, mesmerized by her agility and strength. Her arms stretched above her head as she aimed again. There was a tiny flash of flesh between her shirt and her shorts, and it was more desirable than any of the full-frontal nudity sims Tank had shown him. The fabric of her shorts pulled tight across her butt, and Chris gulped. As she took her shot, effortlessly hopping on one foot and watching the ball swish through the hoop, he fought the urge to clap. Impressive. He barely managed to score in the sim.

  The ball rolled down the driveway and she turned to chase it. Stopped as her eyes fell on him. He grabbed the ball before it could roll into the street.

  “Um, yes?” she said, her voice cold. “What do you want?”

  He was taken aback. “I thought…You said…We were going to ask your dad…” Had he misheard? Had she changed her mind? Disappointment washed over him. Had he m
ade a bigger fool of himself than ever?

  “Oh.” Some flicker of recognition lit her eyes. He squinted at her, noticing for the first time that her cheeks were blotchy. Her eyes were bloodshot. She’d been crying!

  How dare someone make his goddess cry? A wave of protectiveness mixed with anger washed over him, and he wished more than anything he could just walk up and hug her, fix what ever was wrong, no matter what it was. Of course she’d probably rather hug a muddy pig, so he decided against following through.

  “That’s right,” she said, rubbing a hand against her cheek. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “What happened?” he asked, walking up and handing her the basketball. He might not be allowed to touch her, but he could still sympathize. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. The words were too quick to be believable. She grabbed the ball. “Listen, do you think you could come tomorrow or something? This isn’t a good time for me.”

  What was the deal? Had she learned something more about Mrs. McCormick? But no, she barely knew the woman and would simply tell him. It had to be something bigger, something more personal, something that had nothing to do with him. Had someone she knew died? Had she gotten in trouble with her parents? Failed a test in school? What? It was driving him crazy, and she obviously wasn’t going to tell him.

  Why should she tell you? a voice inside his head jeered. After all, Molly had no reason to love him like he loved her. He was a geek. A nerd. A nobody. Hell, he was lucky she’d even let him set foot on her driveway.

  Still, now that she had, he wasn’t going to let her off the hook. He took the ball back and dribbled it a few times, prepared for a shot. It felt heavy in his hands, very different than the virtual ball they played with in Basketball Dayz. Holding it over his head, he threw in the direction of the hoop. It hit the backboard and bounced away. “Damn.” He raced after the ball. “I suck in real life as bad as I do in the sim.” Grabbing it and bouncing it back to the center of the driveway, he gave her an apologetic grin.

  “Sim basketball’s for nerds,” Molly scoffed, grabbing the ball away and laying it up into the hoop. She was good. And so hot. As the ball bounced back to her, she passed it. Chris caught it and shot again. This time it bounced off the rim.

  “Closer,” she said, half-smiling. She caught the ball and bounced it to him. “Try again.”

  He caught the ball and looked up at the hoop. Concentrating this time, he aimed first. Pictured the shot going in. Pictured Molly being impressed.

  He shot.

  It bounced off his head.

  As it rolled down the driveway, he rushed after it, his face burning. He swiped it up with both hands, turned and shot without thinking, wanting to rid himself of the stupid ball for good—

  Swish!

  “Damn!” he cried. He was so surprised and pleased, excited by his accomplishment that he’d all but forgotten it was a ploy to get her to talk.

  Molly gave him a thumbs-up. “Not bad,” she said approvingly. “Not bad at all when you don’t think so hard.”

  “One more,” he told her, feeling all warm inside. “And if I make this one, you have to tell me why you’ve been crying.”

  Molly considered. “Okay,” she said at last. “You’ll never get two in a row anyway.”

  Oh, wouldn’t he? They’d see about that. He bounced the ball twice then caught it. Aimed again, sucking in a breath but also trying not to think…

  The shot bounced off the rim.

  “Damn,” he said again, but this time with less joy.

  Molly laughed, collecting the rebound. “Ha!” she said. “Too bad, so sad!”

  Chris sighed. “Oh, come on,” he said. “You want to tell me regardless.”

  She stopped the little victory dance she was doing, her expression sober. “Oh, fine,” she said. “You’re going to probably find out tomorrow in school anyway.” She walked to the stone wall dividing her house from the neighbor’s and sat down on it. Chris joined her, his heart beating as fast as he could ever remember. He was so close he could reach out and touch her. Of course, that would end any chance of her talking to him, so he managed to resist the urge. If only she wasn’t so damn pretty. That gorgeous, long blonde hair and those beautiful blue eyes. He could barely stand it.

  “It’s Drew,” she explained. “I caught him…He was kissing Brenda Booker.”

  Chris made a retching noise before he thought. “Gross!”

  Molly turned, slight amusement coloring the sadness in her eyes. “You don’t approve?”

  “Of Brenda Booker? I wouldn’t fuck her with your dick and Trey pushing. Didn’t she have her LTF revoked?” Then he had a brief moment of horror at what he’d said to her.

  Molly just gave a half-smile. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess you’ll have to ask Drew.”

  “Well, he always was a bit of an idiot.” Chris knew he was being too daring, but he didn’t care. That Drew had hurt Molly made him furious inside.

  She stared down at her feet, looking so sad that Chris once again wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug her and tell her everything would be okay. That she didn’t want to date such a loser anyway. But he didn’t know if any words of comfort would help. Also, sadly, he was pretty positive she’d reject any physical comfort.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t deserve that. It’d be better not to sleep with anyone than Brenda Booker.”

  She looked at him quietly for a moment, her mouth still-quirked in a half smile. Then she said, “I punched him in the nose.”

  Chris’s eyes widened. He couldn’t imagine punching Drew, because he knew what would happen to him if he did. “Nice,” was all he said.

  “I think I broke it, actually. I’ve been training a ton, and I’m pretty strong.”

  Chris couldn’t believe his ears. His day couldn’t have gone better. “I can’t wait to see him in school tomorrow. He’s going to be so embarrassed! To be shown up by a girl! Lawlz!” He caught himself too late. “Um, not that there’s anything inferior about girls.”

  For the first time, Molly laughed. He’d made her laugh! “Yeah, don’t worry. I know what you mean,” she said. “And thanks. For listening and stuff. And for shooting hoops with me. Basketball always makes me feel better.”

  His heart was pounding again. “I’ll listen anytime,” he said. “And shooting hoops was fun. I’d love to try it again sometime.”

  “It’s a deal,” she said. When she held out her hand, he took it in his and shook, shocked by the tingle of electricity that passed between them. He wondered what it’d be like to hug her. To hold her. To feel her body against his. He’d probably go into cardiac arrest.

  She dropped her hand quickly, and he wondered if she’d felt the jolt, too. Her expression was unreadable.

  “Anyway,” she said. “Let’s go find my dad.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Molly followed Chase down the aisles toward the Garden and Patio section. He pushed open a door and led her into a large, colorful greenhouse. The walls of the house were blocked off with metal, but the glass ceiling was still uncovered and let in the last of the evening light. Lush emerald vines loaded with plump tomatoes and shiny yellow peppers climbed brightly painted trellises in the center of the room. Fresh herbs sprouted from small planters lining one wall. Carrot tops poked through the dirt in a trough.

  She twirled around, impressed, taking it all in. “This is amazing,” she remarked. “When you said you grew your own food, I figured maybe you had a few raspberry bushes or something.”

  “With all the mouths to feed we needed more than that,” Chase explained. “So Tank rigged this up a few years ago. Spud’s our resident gardener—when he’s not stuck in a cage and waiting to morph into a monster, that is.” He laughed.

  Molly wandered over to a tomato plant, salivating. “Can I…?” she asked. “I haven’t had any fruits or vegetables that didn’t come from a can in six years.”

  “Be my guest.”

 
She snapped a small tomato off the vine and bit into it. The juicy sweetness filled her mouth and she practically moaned with plea sure. “Oh, God. This is so good,” she said with her mouth full.

  Chase laughed again. “When you’re done with your orgasm, come outside and see what I really wanted to show you.” He walked to the far side of the greenhouse and unlocked a metal door. Curious, she followed, still munching on the tomato.

  Outside, she found they were in a small section walled off with cinder blocks but open to the night air. Chase pointed. “Basketball,” he said. “Just like old times.”

  “Wow,” Molly marveled. It was a portable pole and hoop that he’d clearly relocated from the Gaming section inside. She took the last good bite of her tomato. “I haven’t seen one of these in six years. Virtual or real.”

  He grabbed a grungy ball off the ground and tossed it to her. She caught it and dribbled a few times. The synthetic leather slapping against her palm brought back memories of days outside her house. She remembered Chase joining her that first time, right after Drew broke her heart. She hadn’t had any true feelings for him then; he’d just been a boy with a crush. But afterward…

  It was best not to think of such things.

  “No? Well, then that gives me the advantage,” Chase boasted, and he lunged at her. She dodged quickly and dribbled around him toward the hoop. Raised the ball over her head and laid it up.

  “Damn,” she swore, as the ball bounced harmlessly off the rim and into Chase’s awaiting hands. “There was a day I’d never have missed that.”

  Chase shot the ball into the net with ease. “I’ve been practicing,” he said. “Not much else to do once the chores are done.” He dribbled twice then passed. She took another shot. This one went in.

  She cheered, feeling a moment of happiness. Chase gave her a high-five then chased the ball, which was rolling away from them and into the greenhouse. She watched him go, a flush warming her cheeks as her eyes found his tight butt. Damn, he looked good in those leather pants. And it was nice to feel normal, to think about how things might have been, if only for a few minutes.