– You know, Simon.
– What?
– Most of us, we only touch the Vyrus at first under supervision.
Even I was watched over when I took my first fast. Few manage it alone. And you did it under extreme circumstances. So I hear.
I stand at the doorway.
– And?
– That could mean something.
– What, Daniel? Can you just tell me what's on your mind and cut the crap?
He laughs.
– What's on my mind.
He wipes a single milky tear from the corner of his eye.
– What's on my mind.
Still he laughs.
– What's on my mind, is that I am failing.
He looks at me, a skeleton smile cracking his face.
– And someone will have to take my place.
And I get the fuck out of there.
Sela's place is on Third Avenue and 13th, above a deli. She buzzes me in.
– She's asleep.
– Wake her.
The apartment is a tiny one-bedroom. The front door opens directly into a living space, doors to the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom open directly off of that. The place is done up in an ultra-feminine Middle Eastern lounge kind of thing. There's lots of pillows and rugs, mandala-printed fabric hanging from the walls, and scarves draped over lamps. Sela leaves me in the living room and passes through a beaded curtain into the bedroom. I hear her talking softly and hear some mumbled replies. She comes out and waves me over.
– Don't keep her up long, she needs her sleep.
– Yeah, tomorrows a school day.
I start for the bedroom and feel a vise clamp on my shoulder. I turn back to Sela. She takes her hand from my shoulder and puts a finger in my face.
– Whatever she was shot up with is still making her dopey. She needs her sleep.
– Yeah. Got it.
She takes her finger out of my face and I go through the curtain. The bed is a huge futon on the floor, piled with more pillows. There's a little floor space rimming the edge of the mattress, which is fine because all that's in there besides the bed is a hookah and several wicker baskets that look like they stand in for closets.
Amanda is sitting up against a mound of pillows, wearing a tattered and massive Tears for Fears T-shirt that is probably left over from Sela's more conventional youth. However long ago that might have been. She rubs her eyes.
– Hey.
I squat down next to the bed.
– Hey.
She looks around for a clock that isn't there.
– What time is it?
– After two.
– Hn.
My leg starts to throb where the bullet went in. I ease myself down and sit on the edge of the futon.
– You OK?
– Yeah. But I feel tired all the time.
– Sela taking care of you?
– Yeah, she's
– Huh.
She scratches at her tangled hair.
– So what happened?
– What's the last thing you remember?
She leans deeper into the pillows and looks up at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up there in a swirl.
– We were getting ready to leave the school.
– That's it?
The air conditioner in the window gurgles and hums.
– Yeah. I think so. But I had all these dreams and it's hard to. What happened'?
I open my mouth. The truth sits inside it. And stays there.
– Some guys jumped us.
She sits up again.
– No
– Yeah.
– Sweet. That's
– Some guys your dad had hired. They were following me.
–
– Yeah.
– So what happened?
– You got your head bonked, went out. Concussion.
She feels her head.
– There's no bump.
– Happens that way sometimes.
– So what'd you do? Wait. There was a
– Yeah.
– You kick ass?
– Not really.
–
– But one of the guys had a gun.
– And I got it from him.
– Dope. That is so
– Had to carry you out over my shoulder.
She buried her face in her hands.
– Uhhh. Was I heavy? Did I feel totally fat?
I watch her. She looks out from behind her hands.
– Don't be lame, kid.
She smiles.
– So what then?
Once upon a time.
– Then I figured,
– You didn't
– Fuck them.
– They don't know I'm here?
– Like I said. Fuck them.
