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Eric’s voice was faraway, but clear. “Yeah.”
They moved around in silence after that, clothes shuffling, shoes squeaking on the floor.
And as I hid, I thought of a dream that haunted me. I had no idea what else happened in Eric’s dream, but I’d been pulled to the dark some nights, images of a pregnant Sorina in the dirt, belly bulging, hands inside her pushing. And blood. Always blood.
The look in her eyes matched the one Eric described of Amber.
Beautiful but scared. So fucking scared.
TEN
Ireluctantly took Sorina’s advice and asked Kyrie to the fall festival dance.
My first school dance. I made it clear I was asking her as a friend, Sorina’s voice in my head—she doesn’t want to fuck you. Though I still felt love from Kyrie when she looked at me. I didn’t know how to accept love that didn’t come with strings, and the delicate dance of friendship with the opposite sex was more complicated than anything we would do on the floor that night.
The first time I saw the three Clement siblings together was the day before the dance while Kyrie and I had dinner at the Raven’s Nest.
The brother walked in with all the swagger of a guy fresh out of high school and the contempt of a guy forced to tote his younger sisters around. We locked eyes as he walked past our table, and I was struck with the forethought that he was someone I would know. Eventually.
Though not obvious, I tracked the siblings’ movement into the next room where the pool tables sat, listening to them as I picked our order up from the counter, unsure what I was listening for.
I’d kept Eric’s dream confession to myself, as I had my own dream, the mirror of his. Sorina in a white dress, a nightgown, swollen belly, hands tied behind her back, breasts large, filled with milk for her unborn child.
“Tell me what you are.”My dream voice was manly, rough. It came out wrong.
“Why do you waste time asking questions you already know the answers to?”Her voice was a song as she writhed.
“I don’t know. I need you to tell me.”
“Let your aunt lie her way through life. Let them all. But you, you stop wearing that skin.”
“I’m so tired of you and the way you talk. It’s all riddles. You flip things. It’s for show.”I waved my arm to the side, revealing the stage in our school, the dream morphing.
“I’m not trying to impress you, Nicholas. This is just my sound.”
“Whatever,”I spat.“Keep fucking with my head. It’s been years of this bullshit. This back and forth. Why are you obsessed with Valerie?”The Valerie of my dreams was suddenly in the room, tied to a stake on the stage. I could smell smoke but see no flame.
“What would you like for me to be obsessed with? You? That skin you wear? The bits under your clothes? Your blood? Your lips? I am. That’s why I moved next door. One day you will be too busy to bar your door.”
I woke in a sweat, aroused, confused. Rested.
And angry.
At what, I wasn’t sure.
When I returned with our food, finding Kyrie staring out the window, I snapped my finger in her face, pulling her attention to me. “Where’d you go?” I asked as I sat.
Kyrie yawned. “Nowhere. Just tired. I studied all night for my chemistry test tomorrow. We shouldn’t have tests on days we have dances. It’s not fair,” she said, reaching for her food when her fries and burger were placed perfectly in front of her, a neurotic habit of hers I found endearing. When she looked up at me I saw the bags under her eyes.
“Did you get the sour cream fries?” I asked, looking into her basket. I hadn’t paid attention when I grabbed our tray, lost in my own thoughts.
“Yes. And you can’t have any. You got onion rings, live with your choice.” She laughed, looking past me to the other room where the pool table sat. Where the Clement kids laughed and joked with each other.
I stuck my straw in my Pepsi, throwing the wrapper at Kyrie. “So, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I uh, fell asleep in the locker room last week and—”
“You fell asleep … in the locker room?”
I waved my hand. “Yeah, uh. Anyway. I heard Eric Childress in there talking to Justin Miller.”
