Authors: Emily Hainsworth
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know, I can’t really explain it either.” I exhale, feeling stupid. But that twingey feeling won’t leave. I place my palm back down next to hers, not quite touching it. “Sometimes I’m just not sure what she’ll do next.”
“I understand,” she says.
“It’s different with you.”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t move away. She slides her hand back over to my hand, her brown eyes darting back and forth between mine. I get that
twinge
in my chest again, only this time I’m appalled because I recognize the feeling. My breath hitches—this is Nina—everything about it is wrong. I start to pull back, but her touch is so gentle, so calm, and then I remember … she’s my
best friend.
I pause. Couldn’t I have a special place for her, apart from Viv? I begin to wonder if this is how the other me felt.
Until she closes the distance between us and presses her mouth to mine.
My lips part automatically, my eyes fall closed, and for a moment it all makes sense. I lean into her—even as my brain catches up and my eyes pop open. Her other hand rests against my cheek and her eyes are squeezed shut in a way meant to prolong the moment. I shove my chair back hard to get away.
She stumbles, her face bright red. I stand abruptly, knocking the chair over.
“I—I’m sorry—” she says.
“Don’t.”
“Cam—I’m—”
“Stop!” I turn away. I can’t look at her; I can’t even think. We were talking about
Viv
, and then she—what did I do? I still taste her lips on mine. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. “You were never going to tell me Viv was alive, were you? She tried to warn me—you
are
obsessed.”
“What?” Her face goes white. “She said I’m—”
I get halfway to the front door, but she’s on my heels.
“Cam—
Cam!
”
I whirl on her. “Look, I don’t know what kind of fucked-up relationship you wanted with the other me, but you aren’t a part of my life—Viv is.”
She recoils, like I’ve hit her.
“Cam, please …” she whispers.
“Stop! Whatever sick fantasies you’re still having about him, keep it to yourself!”
I throw the door open so hard, it crashes into the wall.
“But you’re right about Viv—she’s dangerous.” Nina steps out on the porch and calls after me. “It’s not too late, you could still get away.
He
would’ve believed me—”
Her voice fades as I storm into the night.
I HAVE THE STUPID DREAM AGAIN. EVERYTHING IS THE SAME
—
the wreck, the fire—only this time Viv and I stand next to it, together. She stares at the accident, clearly horrified, but then she turns to me and her fear melts into a smile. I open my arms, but suddenly I’m holding Nina. Viv sees her, stumbles and falls, just as she did on the bleachers. I push Nina aside and dive to catch her, but then I’m grabbing at empty air—and
I’m
falling through blackness.
Alone.
I wake up sweating, heart pounding. I can barely move. I feel like an offensive lineman is sitting on my chest. The dream flashes through my mind again, and I have to walk myself through my memories of last night to be sure I left Viv tucked safely in her bed. I sit up and glance at the clock—3:26 a.m. I wipe my face with the sheet, and then I remember Nina’s kiss. I fall back onto the pillow. If only there was a way to make it unhappen, or even go back and pull away
faster
. I brushed my teeth and gargled as soon as I came home, but I rub a hand over my mouth again, as if there might still be some kind of evidence … something Viv might see.
I sit up and throw the covers off. My bed feels hot and stifling, so I open the window above me. The frozen air spills over me into the room, clearing my head. She’ll never know it happened, how could she? Not unless Nina or I tell her, and Nina wouldn’t. I clench my fist, thinking of her lips on mine—Viv never has to know about this, let alone forgive me for it.
I stare out into the darkness, confident for a moment before I slump against the sill. Maybe she should know. Viv and I never kept secrets from each other, so why would I start now? Nina kissed
me—
I didn’t do anything wrong—I should have listened when Viv warned me about her. If I tell her what happened, she’ll have to understand … she can’t get upset with me for something I didn’t do.
I shiver and close the window, sinking back into bed. The room is too cold now. I wrap myself in blankets against the chill and pull a pillow over my head, trying to decide what to do—lie or tell the truth?
I duck through the green light fast, banging my arm on its illusory edge. The impact is heightened by the electrical vibe, but I don’t have time to think about it. I shouldn’t have stretched out on my bed this afternoon, with as little sleep as I’ve had. The good news is, I woke up knowing I
have
to tell Viv what Nina did last night. I feel sick at the prospect of explaining exactly what happened, and I’m afraid of what she’ll do, but I couldn’t live with the lie. I want her to know she was right—I never should have doubted her. The bad news is, I’ve got five minutes to get to Viv’s house, which is a ten-minute run from here.
I don’t notice the car coming down the street until it pulls up next to me at the curb.
“Hey, hot stuff, need a ride?” Viv calls.
I do a double take, I can’t help it. The last time I saw Viv’s little blue two-door, it was wrapped around a pole. I survey it, as full of dings and dents as it ever was, but the front windows are rolled down, not shattered. I manage to find my voice.
“Sorry—I’m late. I … had to help my mom.”
I bite my cheek.
What
is wrong with me? It took all day to decide to tell her the truth, and the first thing I do is lie right to her face?
“Well …” She smiles. “If it happens again, I might have to punish you.”
I shiver, a little relieved. A small lie might be okay, in exchange for a big truth. She doesn’t know I went to Nina’s, or what happened there—yet. The car idles like it’s grinding its teeth.
Viv coughs. “Are you going to get in, or should I wait till you stick your thumb out?”
I open the door, fighting off memories of the last time I performed this simple action. The very last time. She grabs some stuff off the seat, and I sit down, but I don’t want to lean back. The car feels like a coffin.
“Cigarette?” she asks.
She has one balanced between her lips, and a red Bic in her hand. For a second I see my old silver Zippo instead, and my déjà vu climaxes—I snatch both away from her and throw them out the window.
“Hey! What the fuck was that for?”
“I …”
My throat burns like I just smoked a whole pack.
“You’re not going to get all preachy, ‘athletes-don’t-smoke’ at me again, are you?
You’re
not an athlete anymore!”
I want to protest, but the sting in her tone keeps me from speaking. I’ve screwed up once already.
Her eyes move over me and she hesitates. I’m wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday, and I haven’t shaved.
“You look like shit, Cam. What’s wrong with you tonight?”
“Can we go somewhere … to talk?” I manage to ask.
Her fingers tighten on the wheel. “About what? We can talk here.”
I glance out the window, at the corner where
I
died.
“Let’s go somewhere with less traffic. I want us to be alone.”
She quirks an eyebrow and puts the car in gear. “Well, when you put it like that, I know
just
the place.”
We twist through the streets behind school for a while, the car squealing around corners, climbing uphill. I slide the seat belt into place across my lap and try not to make it obvious I’m gripping the door handle in one sweaty palm. I play with the radio with my free hand. There’s only one hill in
or
around Fayetteville. I know exactly where we’re going.
“The water tower?”
“For old times’ sake,” she says, and presses her lips together.
There are fewer houses the higher we get, and more sparsely leaved trees. It’s no mountain or anything, but I guess no one wants to live that close to a giant ugly tank covered in graffiti. Especially when it’s the hottest make-out spot for miles.
We used to come every time we won a game, and there were a lot of wins sophomore year. There’s only one other car when we get to the dirt lot at the top, but it’s dark and looks either empty or abandoned. Viv rolls far enough toward the edge of the lot that we can see the lights of Fayetteville below. I’ve never spent much time actually admiring the view from this place. It’s beautiful.
“I forgot what it was like to come up here with you,” I say.
“Yeah, me too.” Viv yanks on the parking brake. She reaches for her cigarettes, thinks better of it, and turns off the ignition.
I hold the pack out to her. “You can smoke—I shouldn’t have done that before.”
“I don’t want one now.” She drums her fingers on the wheel.
I know she’s waiting for me to just say whatever I want to talk about, but I can’t make myself do it. I stare out at the stars suspended over the town.
“Do you ever wonder if
they’re
together?” I ask.
She stops drumming and looks at me. “Who?”
“Our other … selves? Like, if they’re both dead, and we’re alive, do you think they get to be together too?”
She tilts her head and follows my gaze into the sky. “No.”
“Really? You think they’re alone—or just gone?”
“No, I don’t wonder about it.”
“Oh.”
She takes my hand. “Cam, you
are
him, only better.... Aren’t I enough like her?”
I think for a moment, studying her face. Her smile vanishes.
“You’re like her in so many ways....”
“But?”
I hesitate, trying to find the right words.
“But nothing—you’re my Viv.” I squeeze her hand to make her feel better. Or do I need reassuring? “Which is why I wanted to tell you … you were right about Nina.”
She stares at me. I look down at my lap.
“I went to see her last night.”
She gasps. “But you—”
“I’m sorry—I had to find out for myself!”
She jerks her hand out of mine and crosses her arms over her chest. I panic and try to reach for her, but she pulls back as far as she can in the seat and balls up fistfuls of her jacket. I watch in horror as her face starts to crumple.
“It was awful—you were right!” I say hastily. “She’s crazy, totally obsessed. One minute we were talking, the next … she’s trying to kiss me.”
Viv’s eyes turn to daggers.
“You
kissed
her?”
“No! She kissed me!”
“How could you?”
“I didn’t!” The windows are fogged from the heat of our breath, making me feel even more boxed in. “I was trying to help
us
!”
I hear her hand hit my cheek an instant before I feel it burn into my skin. She reaches for the door, but I grab her shoulders.
“Viv, listen to me!”
I don’t know what to say to make this right. I pull her to me, pressing my mouth against hers, but her lips don’t respond. I tangle my fingers through her hair, locking her into my kiss until I can barely breathe.
When I lean back, she looks at me like I’m dead.
“You’ve got to understand.” My voice cracks in desperation.
“No,
you’ve
got to,” she says. There’s no spark left in her eyes. “
He
left
me
for
her
—I tried to tell you last night.”
The wind is knocked out of my lungs. If my face weren’t still stinging I might think she punched me in the gut instead.
“What?”
She closes her eyes, pained.
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, “I would never—”
“
He
did.”
I brace my elbows on my knees, holding my head in my hands. I try to imagine a scenario where I might have left Viv—for
anyone—
but I come up blank. Blood rushes into my face. This is impossible. He and I might have lived differently, but we were still the same person. It’s like he betrayed both of us.
“It was Nina,” Viv says in answer to my thoughts. “She did something to him, turned him against me.” She looks up, eyes gleaming. “And then he died. I thought everything was over; I wanted to die too … but then you came back to me.”
I reach for her, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “I’m
not
him.”
We kiss until we’re out of breath. I run my lips down her neck, her pulse drumming steadily beneath her skin. Her fingers are cool and magnetic, twined with mine. She slides my jacket off, and I’m pulling her shirt over her head while she wrestles with my belt. Something inside me seems to vibrate at her touch. I shed my sweater and try to move in closer to her skin, but I bang my bad knee on the steering wheel. I pull away and bite my cheek until the pins and needles stop resonating through me. By the time the pain dissipates, Viv’s reclined in her seat. She studies me curiously, eyelids heavy, a strand of hair twirled around her finger.