Because You Exist (4 page)

Chapter 6

“All righty. What is one of the ways the government can regulate Interest groups?”

I groaned. “Why are we doing this, Jenna? I have no intention of taking the AP test. Besides, the only reason I even signed up for the class is because I thought it would turn you on.”

Jenna laughed. “You’re disgusting.”

“And completely correct in stating that the little AP class on my schedule makes you happy. Admit it, you find it sexy. I could say words like federal bureaucracy or gerrymandering and you’d be ready to go.”

“Who says I’m not ready to go right now?” Jenna asked, slightly raising her eyebrow. She tossed aside her government notebook and moved so she was straddling me.

“Well, hell. Now I won’t be able to concentrate at all,” I grinned.

“I can move if you like,” she asked, smiling.

“Don’t you dare,” I laughed, holding her in place by grabbing on to her waist. “Besides, how much studying did you really intend to get done here? You suggested we study on your bed. I don’t think your intentions were quite so scholarly.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, feigning innocence.

This was the life I needed, wanted, would do anything to save.

***

When I awakened back in my English class my old world resumed as if nothing had ever happened—no strange man throwing out seemingly genuine offers of help, no destroyed buildings, no idiotic, cosmic pairings with girls I made fun of, and no flesh-eating sickness killing my girlfriend. What was left in my world? Me. Laying on the floor. Like an idiot.

My teacher admonished me, assuming I was trying to cause a distraction. Then she noticed the blood smudged on my face, another reminder of where I had just been, a supposed symptom of whatever the hell shifting was. Apparently while I was gone, no time had been lost in this present. Not that I really understood what that meant. 

I asked to use the restroom. With a curt nod, the teacher allowed it. I picked up my stuff and practically ran into the bathroom, scrubbing the blood off me until my skin felt raw.

I didn’t want any evidence of where I had been to be left on me. Somehow back in the world where I thrived, I wanted to forget everything I'd seen. I was back to trying to convince myself I had been drugged—the whole thing just a really messed up trip. When the last bell of the day rang, I ran to Jenna as she waited for me by her locker. I pulled her into my arms, and pressed my nose into her hair. She didn’t smell like death. I could feel her giggle underneath me.

She was still here.

Thank God.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to push down the truth for long. I just needed the weekend. One last weekend with Jenna and the idea of normalcy. I didn’t think my life would ever be the same after I fully gave into whatever I had been chosen for. I just needed this weekend.

I grabbed Jenna’s hand and urged her out of the building. I didn’t want to stop and talk to friends. I just wanted time alone with her. I wanted to roam the Maples’ house and purge my mind of the images of decay.

I spotted Carrie on the way out. As I approached, she pulled her hood all the way off her face. There was still a smudge of blood across her pale skin. Her hair fell wildly. She looked at me as if expecting something, maybe recognition, maybe some time to talk about what we both had just experienced, but I couldn’t give it to her then. I tightened my grip on Jenna’s hand and kept walking. When I looked back, Carrie had pulled her hoodie back over her face. I couldn’t help but feel like I let her down. I wondered why I cared.

***

“Hey. Where you at?” Jenna asked, tapping me on the chin. I had wasted time I could be spending with her thinking on all the crappiness of the day. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I needed to live in my present.

I placed my hand against her smooth, flushed cheek. “I’m right here,” I whispered. I was where I wished I could be forever.

Jenna rocked forward so she was up on her knees. She bit on her lip. “You gonna make me do all the work here?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t want anyone to say I’m controlling. Though I do have to comment on our lack of creativity. We have the whole house to ourselves. We could do this on the couch, or on top of the dinning room table...”

Jenna covered my mouth with her hand. “On the table that came with my great-grandmother from Germany?”

I laughed. “You’re right. Don’t want to get too crazy.”

There was something comforting about being with a girl who knew you. I know by most of my friends’ standards losing my virginity at seventeen was considered pathetic. I was QB1, and my so very supportive friends often reminded me that I could easily have lost the v-card anytime I wanted to lose it. But I had wanted it to be with Jenna. The whole idea of sex while alluring, and damn was it alluring, was kinda scary. There was no way I would be good at it at first. That wasn’t possible. I liked the fact we stumbled through it together. We were probably both bad, but with each other it felt good. Really good. I didn’t worry about making a mistake. I just wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with me.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too.”

We always said this beforehand. Not because we had to say it, but because this was an act of utter trust. I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way. Sure, down the road maybe my thought process would change, but I only had the present.

I pressed my lips against Jenna’s, and I felt her lean into me. I shifted down so my head was against the pillow, pulling Jenna fully on top of me. I ran my hands up her back. Jenna pulled away. “I love you,” she said again. As always, her face flashed fear. This fear only lasted a moment, but it was always there. I never quite understood it. Maybe this meant something different to girls.

Jenna sat up and began to unbutton her shirt. I sat up and began to help her out. “See. I’m helping you out after all.”

Jenna laughed softly. A strand of her blond hair fell across her face. I lifted my hand to brush it away. As my hand touched her hair, the memory I had been avoiding came rushing down on me. Earlier today, I had done the same thing. Except the girl that was breathing before me lay dead, her hair and scalp coming off easily into my hand. So easily, as if she was the most fragile thing in the world.

I pressed my lips hard against Jenna’s. I needed this image to go away. I needed to be reminded that the girl in front of me was alive. She was still here with me. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. I pulled away sucking in as much air as I could. I didn’t have a lot of time. The longer I wasn’t touching her, the stronger the memory became. Maybe I was going crazy, but I swear I could even smell the stench of decay that haunted me earlier.

“Are you all right?” Jenna asked shakily.

I grabbed Jenna by the arms and moved her so I was on top. I was done with these damn buttons. I grabbed the inside of her shirt and ripped it open.

The cockroaches.

I kissed her neck.

The broken swing.

I moved my hand down to the button of her pants.

I heard her say my name from someplace dark, someplace out of reach.

The maggots that crawled underneath her clothes, across the skin I was so desperate to see and feel.

I pulled away from Jenna. I couldn’t breathe. Damn it.

Jenna sat up wide-eyed. “What...what’s wrong?”

God, how I must have scared her.

When I tried to talk the stench of decay filled my nose and slid down my throat. I could feel my forehead begin to sweat. The oxygen lodged in my throat. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing in and out.

Jenna’s hands found my face and I jumped back. I couldn’t bear to be touched by her right now. I kept feeling her skin fall off into my hands.

I could lose her.

I opened my eyes, and it crushed me to see her look hurt.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked quietly.

I shook my head. “No...I just can’t...”

“I thought you wanted to?”

“No. I mean I physically can’t.”

And I couldn’t. My friend had benched himself tonight. I didn’t wait for her reaction. I scrambled off the bed and shut myself in the bathroom. My hands fumbled to find the faucet as I still struggled to breathe. When I heard the water come on, I began to splash it on my face. I braced my hands on the sink and lowered my head.

You can stop it.

You have to stop it.

You can’t run from it.

You were chosen for a reason.

There has to be a way.

I’m not sure how long I spent in the bathroom trying to calm myself down, but when I returned I found Jenna sitting on the bed with her knees pulled to her chest. I sat next to her but with my back towards her. She reached out a hand and placed it gently against my back.

“It’s all right. It happens.”

I said nothing.

“You want to talk about it?”

Yes. But how could I talk about the things I saw? I couldn’t. At least not with her. I regretted the way I ignored Carrie. She might be the only one able to help me through this.

“Can we just go to sleep? It’s been a long day,” I replied.

When she agreed, I pulled her into my arms. I prayed I would be able to sleep. Tomorrow the war began.

Chapter 7

“How long did it take you to find me?” Carrie asked, pulling out one of her earplugs.

“What are you listening to?” I countered. I didn’t want to answer her question. I didn’t want to explain how it took me four hours to find someone who knew anything about Scary Carrie besides the fact that she loved hoodies and had zero friends. It involved one of those things where you call a friend who knows a friend who knows a friend whose mom also works at the public library. I used the JV football team as my slew of detectives. They were always eager to please me.

Carrie laughed quietly to herself, no doubt fully aware of the fact that I was avoiding her question. She turned her iPod so I could read the screen.

“Sia. Hmmm. Jenna likes her.”

“Wow,” she said shaking her head. “Why do you sound so surprised there, QB1? What were you expecting to see?”

Um. I don’t know. Maybe some screamo, emo band singing songs about death or how the world sucks, or maybe how conforming to nonconformity is rad. I mean if she was going to wear the hoodie and play out the loner routine, she might as well really commit to the performance. Soundtrack and all.

It was then I noticed how her hood was off her head. Her curly, red hair was pulled into a ponytail that lay in front of her shoulder. Her face was flushed. She almost looked like breathing wasn’t the most painful thing asked of her. She was almost...

Gross.

Don’t go there.

“Listen. Um. Can we talk?”

She laughed again. “Sort of late to ask me that, Mr. All-American. Since you know...we’re already talking.”

“Right.”

Carrie didn’t wait for me to continue. Instead, she pushed her cart of books further down the aisle and began to place the books on the self.

“So, I was thinking we could talk about...you know...that thing...that happened to us.”

“You want to talk about that thing that happened to us!” Carried exclaimed in a louder than needed voice, waggling her eyebrows.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. “Very funny,” I muttered.

“Oh, calm down,
Die Hard
. It’s not like any of your friends spend their Saturday afternoons at the public library.”

“Loving the nicknames,” I replied dryly.

She didn’t respond.

“So. Um. How long have you been working here at the library?”

Why was I so nervous?

I had talked to like a million girls before. Granted, never about the end of the world though.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Don’t what?”

“Play the I want to get to know you act.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

Count to ten.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Why does she have to be such a bit...

She lifted a book from the cart, but I grabbed it out of her hand. “Enough.”

Carrie snatched the book back from me, and pushed the cart into my stomach. The smile she wore only moments before fell. She glared at me. “You’re right. Enough. You want to talk about this now? How about when you saw me in the hallway? Didn’t seem like you wanted to talk then.”

“I know you’re not down with social norms, but that wouldn’t have been the ideal place to discuss the end of times,” I said, my voice rising. I kept waiting for someone to ssshh us like in the movies, but no one did. But then again, who spent their Saturday afternoon in the library? Especially in the...Human Growth and Sexuality Section.

Oh God.

“Right. Don’t want any of your posse to see you talking with someone like me. That’s it. Right? How self-centered can you be? I mean self-actualized. Sure. Great. But when you’re so wrapped up in yourself you can’t see a crap storm on the horizon, then we have some issues. I mean do we only talk about the end of the world when it’s good for you?”

“Ugh. God. I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that wasn’t particularly the best time. I had other obligations.”

Other obligations?

Excuse me world. You will all perish because I have other obligations to attend to.

“Sorry, dumbass, but I don’t think the apocalypse can be put on hold so you can screw your girlfriend.”

“I just...I just needed some time to process,” I stammered.

“No. You needed some time to pork your girlfriend’s brains out. Now go home. Or at least get the hell out of my way. I need to keep my job.”

She gave the cart another shove, but I was quick enough to brace my foot against it. “You have no idea how I spent my night, or any of my nights for that matter. And what I do or do not do with my girlfriend is none of your concern. In fact, I’m starting to wonder why you care so much about her in the first place?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Great. So, now I’m a lesbian. You’re pathetic. I only know because you and your bonehead friends have talked about this weekend every day for the past week in math class.”

She was in my math class?

I had to admit she was right. I loved Jenna. I really did.  And even though I considered myself a great deal more mature than most of my friends, it didn’t mean I was above bragging.

Carrie didn’t wait for a response, shoving an earplug back into her ear. I reached up to pull it out, and she froze. Right. She didn’t like to be touched. I held my hands up in a mock surrender. With a heavy sigh, Carrie pulled out the earplug.

“Listen, I’m not asking you to like me. I’m asking for your help. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings yesterday. I’m not proud of it. I just needed one more day to pretend that everything could be okay. One more day to pretend the things I saw weren’t possible. I have no idea what happened to us, or what it meant, but I need your help.”

Carrie looked away. She tugged on the drawstrings of her hoodie. She didn’t want to help me, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t.

“Please,” I asked again, my voice cracking. “This is bigger than you and me. This is about saving the people we love.”

Did she love anyone or anything?

Carrie stared at me for a long time, and I thought I was going to have to walk away with silence as her final retort, but then something in her expression changed. She didn’t look angry anymore, only resigned.

“Do you even know my real name?” she asked.

It was a simple question, but somehow it carried with it my past, my present, and my future.

“No. I don’t. I only know the nickname.”

“The nickname you gave me,” she charged.

I nodded, finding it difficult to meet her eyes.

“Follow me,” she said, pulling her hood back over her head with a resolute tug.

I followed her into the break room. I stood awkwardly in the doorway as she grabbed a brown grocery bag from the closest. She sat the bag in front of me on the floor. “Study these. We’ll talk on Monday.”

“You went through all of these last night?” I asked as I began to rifle through the bag.

She nodded.

I held up the box set of season five of
Lost
. “And how is this supposed to help?”

She almost smiled. Almost. “Watch episode eleven.”

I wanted to tell her she was crazy, but knew it would be like taking two steps off the edge of a cliff in an already shaky partnership. I turned to leave when the sound of her voice stopped me.

“My name is Josephine. If we ever become friends, you can call me Jo.”

“All right. Well, if we ever become friends you can stop using those ridiculously lame nicknames.”

“Fair enough, loverboy.”