In the Shadows

by Jill Nolan

  My brain finally shuts up when his gaze gets even more intense. His intentions are written plainly on his face as he leans down to kiss me. His lips land softly on mine, while one hand cups the back of my neck. He kisses me a few times before his tongue brushes against my lips. A second later, our tongues dance around each other's, and my hands are around his neck, pulling him a little closer.

  We make out for a few glorious minutes until sounds from the rest of the bar begin to filter back in.

  "Get it, girl," Ben says while Allison giggles.

  I break away from Nic, and reorient myself with my surroundings.

  "Thanks for the show," Allison teases.

  "You're welcome," is all I can think to say, smiling sheepishly at our spectators. Tonight's turning out to be a good night.

  Chapter 4

  Almost through our second week, we decide to celebrate this Thursday night with a bonfire. The internship actually hasn’t been that bad. I mean, on the hot days, I’m sweating bullets. But I prefer that to freezing my ass off…even if winter does sound pretty enticing at times. The last few nights we hung out at the Zí with Hanna and Ben while Nic and Luca came over once in a while when they weren't busy. We’ve all become fast friends.

  I hunt through the edge of the forest for branches that will burn well in the fire pit. I find an excellent marshmallow roaster along the way. It takes a few trips, but I collect a decent pile of wood. Some of them are too long to fit in the pit, and I have to break a few in pieces. Naturally, I try to break one over my knee.

  “Oww!” I yelp as I feel a bruise setting in. I throw the mostly broken stick halves in the pit.

  “Was it worth it?” Allison asks me.

  “Yeah, it felt pretty badass. Did I look cool?”

  “The coolest.” I feel like she’s being sarcastic. “Almost as cool as your parting hugs with Nic Nic.”

  I narrow my eyes at her with a mock glare. She just won’t let me live down our awkward goodbye on Saturday when I went in for the hug as Nic went in for the kiss. Allison likes to remind me how it was just as awkward to watch as it was to experience.

  “You made it weird, with your ‘I’ll be waiting in the car, watching you.’” I draw out the “you” in the same broken slur she had that night. “And then that’s exactly what you did! You and the driver guy just stared at us all creepily and threw me off my game.”

  “Don’t blame me for your lack of game.”

  “I will when it’s your fault.”

  I turn my attention back to starting the fire, arranging the wood and newspaper. I spray some lighter fluid around and light that sucker up. When it gets going, I admire the beauty of the flames from my spot on the outdoor couch. I have an urge to dance around it. Maybe I will later, when the sun fully sets.

  After living in Wisconsin for three years, surprisingly this will be my first time eating a brat. Allison claims they’re good, and everyone in this state seems to be obsessed with them. When in Wisconsin, right? And I found a cheese-filled one.

  “I feel like we should have gotten Spotted Cow,” I say.

  “I don’t really like beer.”

  “Yeah, me neither."

  "We should have at least worn camo.” Allison says.

  “Do leopard print pants count?”

  “Do you plan on camouflaging yourself among a group of leopards?”

  "That would be awesome. I totally would if they’d let me.”

  She shakes her head at me.

  I sip on my Mike’s as I cook my brat over the fire, daydreaming about hanging out with leopards. I notice too late that the cheese has started oozing out, and blisters have formed on the skin. Oops. It’s just a little overcooked. I quickly stick it in the bun and top with ketchup and a pickle.

  “What do you think?” Allison asks me after I've swallowed my first massive bite.

  “It’s not bad, but I still prefer hot dogs. Chicago hot dogs.”

  “It's not Chicago-style if you put ketchup on it."

  "Sure, it is. What makes it Chicago-style is the kind of hot dog and the bun."

  "No, it's the toppings. There are specific toppings you're supposed to put on them, and ketchup is like the one thing you're not supposed to put on them."

  “Whatever, ketchup’s the best. And all those other toppings are too much. I only need ketchup, a pickle, and crushed up potato chips.”

  “That’s super weird.”

  “It’s super delicious. I wish I would have remembered to get some chips at the store, but I don't know if I would have been able to fit it in my mouth then. This is ridiculously difficult to eat.”

  “Well you didn’t have to put the pickle on it.”

  “Uh, yeah, I did. Maybe they should make brats less girthy,” I say as Allison takes another bite. She almost spits out the food in her mouth. I watch in amusement as she recovers herself and finishes chewing that giant bite of brat she took.

  “Please, never say that word again.” I’m surprised that she dislikes that word, and even more surprised that this hasn’t come up before.

  “What word? Girthy.” I say the word in a deep, mock sexy voice.

  “Gross.”

  “How do you think they’d advertise brats in the Weiner Wonderland?” I ask. “Brats: when you want some girth to your wiener.”

  “The Weiner Wonderland?”

  “Yeah, I heard that was once a nickname for Chicago. I thought it appropriate for this conversation.”

  “I guess it is,” she laughs. “Okay, I got one. Brats: because size matters."

  "Brats: a girthier alternative to your hot dog."

  "Is fitting a hot dog in your mouth too easy? Try a brat!”

  “Tired of limp wiener after limp wiener? It might be time to try a brat, an erect sausage with unbelievable girth.”

  "Stop with that word," she says through laughter. We’re both giggling like idiots by the end of our advertising brainstorm. "Speaking of wieners, have you touched Nic Nic's yet?"

  "No!” She hasn’t stopped calling him that since we found it his full name is Nicolae Nicolescu. Repetitive name but I kind of like it. Not a big fan of the nickname though. “And gross, do you have to put it like that?"

  "Oh, so girth is okay to say, but wiener is off-limits?"

  "In reference to any kind of sexual situation, wiener is one hundred percent off-limits."

  "Hm, based on the way you took down that brat and pickle, your skills are going to waste."

  "My skills will be applied when I feel like applying them."

  "Are we really going to the woods tomorrow night? Don't tell me you plan on blowing him behind some bushes."

  "Don't be so crude. I plan on doing no such thing. But hell yes, we are going to the party in the woods."

  "Aren't we too old for that? We can go to bars now."

  "No way; it'll be awesome!"

  "You've never been to a party in the woods, have you?"

  "Not really, no, and I want to see what they're all about."

  "They're not as exciting as they sound, trust me."

  "Maybe you missed all the crazy ones."

  "Right. If you're going to force me to go, I can drive, but only so I can leave early if it's lame. I have to wake up early the next day to go dress shopping in Rockford with my cousin."

  "The bitchy one?"

  "Yeah."

  "Sucks."

  "Yeah."

  We do smores and a few more drinks. I’ve got a slight buzz going, and I have the urge to dance again. I hook up my iPod to the stereo, blasting my "fun dance" playlist. Allison and I completely let loose, not caring how we look, because there’s no one around for almost a mile in each direction. We sing at the top of our lungs, jump and run around, and just generally make fools of ourselves.

  After a while, I’m completely in sync with the music, and I let my body direct me. I’ve danced around the house on the rare occasion that I have it to myself, but this is something else entirely. And it feels amazing and invigo
rating.

  When we tire ourselves out, we collapse back on the outdoor couch.

  Allison groans. "I think I'm going to go in. I need to shower."

  "I'll probably stay out here for a little longer."

  "Have fun."

  For a few minutes, I just stare ahead at how the darkness envelops the trees. The outdoor lights and firelight only go so far; there’s this point where the dark turns to pitch blackness. It looks as if the night has consumed everything that lies past the reach of the light.

  Curious, I walk up to the edge, pure darkness lying just on the other side. I wasn’t afraid of it from a distance, yet here I am, staring into the abyss, and I feel scared.

  But why?

  Because I don’t know what lies on the other side. It could be something from my worst nightmares. I’m scared to walk over that line, where it seems the darkness will consume me too.

  Rationally, there’s really nothing to be afraid of. Sure, there are dangerous animals and people and all that, but it’s highly unlikely that they’re just hanging out right past my field of vision right now. And the darkness itself holds nothing to fear. Except maybe uncertainty.

  Determined to conquer my fear, I force myself to take a step into the darkness, my heart thumping in my chest. I look back at my fire, at safety, but I steel myself and walk further in, turning to face the dark forest that I still cannot see.

  It's strange how this area looked like pure darkness from the outside, but now that I've stepped inside and my eyes have adjusted, I can see the shapes of trees all around me. Only when I look farther into the forest does it appear pitch black and creepy. There could by anything lurking in the shadows, especially with my overactive imagination.

  I look up at the sky, immediately mesmerized. The stars are even more brilliant here than from my spot on the couch. Probably because I have one of the outside lights on. The full moon is low in the sky, mostly blocked by tree branches.

  I decide I should star gaze from the outdoor couch, since my neck is quickly tiring of looking up at the sky while standing. I go back towards the fire and turn off the outdoor lights, along with all the lights inside. The darkness now takes over most of the yard; the only thing holding it at bay is my little fire.

  I couldn’t have picked a better night for star gazing. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the stars are shining beautifully. I notice something moving in the sky. At first, I think it could be a shooting star, but then I see that it’s not light that’s moving but darkness. I follow the phenomenon as it moves across the sky, watching as stars it passes through wink out for a second and the stars immediately around it blur.

  I shiver involuntarily. That was strange. It looked like a bat, but why did it seem like the stars were wavering around it?

  Weird. Maybe it was a spaceship. That'd be awesome. Maybe. I guess it would depend on the aliens.

  It feels like there are no more big mysteries on this planet, but out there, in the stars, that’s still a mystery. We’re able to explain most things away with science, which, for someone studying science, is fascinating to learn about. It just takes away a some of the wonder of the world.

  Up there, though, there could be anything. There could be hundreds of planets with intelligent life. I fantasize about these other worlds, the scenery, the life. What would intelligent life on other planets look like? How likely is it that life on another planet evolved similar to life on Earth? What if they operate on completely different scientific laws? They could have different abilities, different senses, different ways of thinking. The possibilities are endless…

  I picture humanoid aliens and how they might look. This quickly evolves into one of my many fantasies. This one is about a sexy alien that abducts me and brings me back to his insanely beautiful home planet.

  I snap out of my daydreaming. I think I spent at least half an hour staring up at the sky, living out my weird fantasies.

  I go back inside and lock the door behind me. I walk past Allison watching tv on the couch, heading straight for the laundry closet. I take off all my clothes except my bra and undies and immediately throw them in the washer. I walk back toward the stairs as Allison looks over her shoulder at me.

  “I swear, when you came in, you had clothes on. Did you lose them in the hallway?”

  “I threw them in the washer right away in case they had ticks on them. You should have done the same before you showered.”

  “I did after I put clean clothes on.”

  "Why are you watching the news?" I ask.

  "You don't have any cable so nothing's on," she says, half-accusingly.

  We also have no internet, which means no streaming. So disappointing. Sometimes it’s nice, because we’re forced to stop focusing on technology. We’re also forced into spending “quality time” with the family, which is typically horrible at the time, but, admittedly, nice to look back on. However, since I’ll be up here all summer, internet would be really nice.

  "I already know you hate watching the news,” she continues. “Do you read it then?"

  "Not really... I pretty much rely on other people to tell me what's going on in the world. Like Becky. She's all over current events, and she keeps me informed without all the bullshit and bias." Becky is our friend from college, and my favorite know-it-all.

  "She's good," Allison admits. "She reads about the same shit from like ten different sources to get the full story."

  "Exactly. And that's way more effort than I'm willing to put in on a daily basis."

  "Don't pretend like you’d put that much effort in on any basis."

  "On certain stories I do...especially when Becky's not around."

  She snorts and turns back to the tv. Despite my extreme dislike of the news, I listen in as I grab water.

  …a young woman reported missing in Wisconsin Dells…asking anyone who knows something to come forward...searching the Wisconsin River…warning those intoxicated to stay away from the river…others have drowned in past years…

  "Now you know not to get drunk and jump in the river," I tell her.

  "Yeah, alone no less. That is not something I would ever do. Like, 'Hey guys, I'll meet you at the next bar; I just need to take a detour to the river.'"

  "Maybe they were trying to skinny dip, but no one else showed up."

  "I could see that happening to a guy. I bet this girl didn't drown like those other cases."

  I exhale, feeling bad for the poor girl who's missing, possibly already dead. It's a screwed up world we live in. "No, probably not." The anchorman drones on and on in the background, on to another story about a mugging. "I can't take this anymore. I'm going to bed. G'night."

  "Night."

  Chapter 5

  It’s a full moon party in the woods! Okay, no one else is calling it that, but the moon is full tonight, and we’re out in a clearing in the woods in the middle of nowhere having a party. If that’s not a full moon party, I don’t know what is. It’s frickin’ awesome being out here, with perfect summer weather: comfortable temperature with a breeze.

  I’ve been to exactly two other forest parties, if you can even call them that; it was just a few of us hanging out in a forest preserve after we snuck miscellaneous alcohol from someone’s parents. This party took it to a-hole-notha level. There’s a huge fire going, weed is being passed around like candy, one girl did not go far enough into the woods to pee, and some dude’s swinging from trees. It’s pandemonium 2014.

  When Allison and I got there, we found Nic and Luca, who were with a few other people I still don't know. They introduced us, but I didn't retain any of their names, except for the guy nicknamed Chugs, because what a stupid nickname. I thought for sure he'd be a douchebag based on his name and his face, but after spending at least an hour with him, I found out he's actually pretty funny and seems like a decent guy.

  Allison leans over and whispers, "Dude, Mason has a different girl on his lap." I look over to where she's pointing, and sure enough, there he is, new gi
rl and all. I laugh, knowing Allison was hoping to fill that spot.

  "I wonder if he'll get in a fight over this one too," I say.

  Ben and Hanna must have just gotten here. They walk up to us then, greeting the group quickly. Hanna starts talking to Allison, so Ben turns to me. "Keke, lovely to see you again."

  I scrunch my nose up. “You are not calling me that.”