Unknown
Hey, good luck tonight.
O'Leary
???
Thanks. Who's this?
Unknown
It's Wheeler. New phone.
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Asher
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Asher tossed the microwave dinner container in the trash, slid his cutlery into the dishwasher, then headed upstairs to get ready. It was time to head for Wheeler's.
Pulling out his phone, he fired off a quick text to his mom. She was working a late shift at the hospital and might get home before him and he wanted her to know what the plan was, so she didn't worry.
Asher tossed on a City High Hurricanes jersey, some jeans torn by experts, grabbed his wallet, keys, slipped on his runners, and headed outside.
Walking the last block to Wheeler's, he could already feel the oompf, oompf, oompf, of the bass. Shouts, laughter, more shouts, a series of whoops, and a scream.
Asher wasn't a fan of chaos, but he loved parties.
It was a strange relationship. He considered it a badge of honor when he pulled order from one. That's if he didn't suffer a crippling panic attack, but he'd prepared and done his exercises — his mind felt sharp. Plus, O'Leary was there. He'd probably be okay. Probably. If he didn't get out of control.
Besides, even if he hated it, he had to go. His team was there, and he was their captain. Closing his eyes, he felt the cool night air, the scent of recently closed flowers still lingered. It helped set his mind right. Then he rounded the corner up Wheeler's driveway.
Asher stopped. He felt eyes on him. Someone was watching. Taking a step back, he turned to the garbage bins at the sidewalk's edge. There. A kid, or maybe a short teenager — Asher wasn't sure. They had a shaved head and a big gray rucksack on their back. They were wearing a jacket three sizes too large with cargo pants and they were standing across the driveway from him, their close-set dark brown eyes locked with his.
Asher lifted his hand and gave the kid an awkward wave.
Their eyes opened wide, they looked left and right. "You, you, you, see me? Oh, no, no, no." The kid turned and dashed towards the center of the street, then — mid-step — vanished. No fade out, no smoke bomb, just gone.
Asher curled, bent at the waist like a human question mark, his mouth dropping open as he looked around, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. His head was pounding, but he tried to make sense of the situation. "Just a trick of the light." He moved back to the sidewalk and looked up and down the street, squinting his eyes to see beyond the range of the house's exterior lights. "Kid? Kid, you there?" he opened the top on one of the metal garbage bins and the smell of spoiled produce assaulted his nose. "I'm freaking losing it. What? The? Fuck?"
"Hey man!" shouted Wheeler from the rooftop. "Late appearance, eh? Nice!"
"Wheeler? Did you see that kid? Hell, did any of you see him?" There were people on the front lawn. Were they there before? All of them, vape or blunt in hand, turned towards Asher and shook their heads. It was eerie AF. "I'm losing my freaking mind." He dropped the lid from the trash can he held. "Dammit, kid, where are you?"
In one hand, Wheeler held a lighter and in the other a Roman candle. "Why don't you come up here and help me light some of these, Captain? Grab a beer first, you seem wound up." Wheeler reached out, sparked a flame, and lit the candle with a "woo!"
"Maybe this was a bad idea." The first firework launched and people on the lawn cheered, drowning out any chastisement or plea that Asher could voice. He clenched his jaw and took another look around.
"Come on, man. I got you, eh?" O'Leary came up behind Asher, putting an arm around his shoulder. "Knew you'd be late."
"O'Leary, did you see it?" Asher tried to twist to point at the garbage cans, but O'Leary had him. He tried to control his trembling. It was turning into a full on shake.
"Hey, hey, Asher, remember what you told me, when this happens, what do you do?"
"You mean like we did after my panic attack outside the school earlier?" Asher looked up at the roof. "Asshat," he said, pointing up at Wheeler, who danced to avoid sparks and almost slipped on the shingles.
"Yeah, he is." O'Leary cocked his head. "But what are you talking about?"
"After school, the lawn, after I got outside?"
"I finished the test after you, eh? I didn't see you after I finished."
Asher swallowed. This was chaos, pure chaos. He probably wasn't up for this.
"Hey, hey, it's okay buddy, I'm here. How about we head in and grab a beer? Leave the ghosts outside and go be with friends, eh?"
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Asher took in another breath. For a moment he wanted to collapse, to fold himself into his friend's arms and just scream at the ever-shifting madness, but he didn't. Instead, Asher nodded and said, "I need a drink." As they moved up the driveway towards the front door, Asher couldn't help but glance a few more times over his shoulder to see where the kid went. "Actually, O'Leary, just give me a…."
*FLICK*
Asher stood in the dining area beside the kitchen. He looked down, confused at the beer in his hand. He didn't remember getting it.
O'Leary was saying something, but stopped as Autumn approached.
"Hi Asher," said Autumn. She was 16 and just finished grade 10. She was cute, short, with big gray-green eyes, a pixie cut of light brown hair, and a freckled complexion. Asher had spoken with her once or twice in the hallway.
"I'll leave you to it, eh?" O'Leary tapped his cup on Asher's and moved towards the kitchen.
"Hi, Autumn. How's it going?" She was looking unsteady.
"Um… I have to admit something, Asher. Well, two things." She looked into his eyes, then quickly looked away before taking a drink from one of the two cups she held in her hands — both almost fully drained. "Make that three things." She set her cups on the table.
"Oh?" He leaned in so he could make out enough of her slurred speech to decipher the drunken dialect.
"Well, um," she shoulder checked into him with a giggle, reaching out her hand to steady herself against his chest. "I'm pretty drunk."
He set his beer down next to hers, reached out, and steadied her shoulders. "I can see that. What are the others?"
"Huh?"
Asher smiled and waited. Occasionally he glanced over her shoulder, trying to keep track of O'Leary as he moved about the kitchen talking to people. There were about 15-20 people inside and another 10-15 outside, not enough to get out of control, but enough to make the neighbors wish his parents were home, but that was a Monday problem.
Something pushed into his back. Asher jumped, his eyes blurred as panic grasped his chest and squeezed. He swallowed, trying to get it under control, but between breaths he said, "Sorry, can we back up a little?" Asher didn't wait for an answer. He took a few slow steps back, gently leading Autumn towards the wall. As his back touched, he tuned back into what she was saying. "Did I interrupt?"
"Nu-uh," she said, looking up at him with a smile. "Against the wall?" She raised an eyebrow.
"What were you saying?" he asked. She got the wrong idea, but he felt safe.
"Oh! Yeah, sorry. I'm super drunk, but shh don't tell kay?" She put her finger to her mouth and stared up at him. "I love your eyes, Asher."
"Um, thanks," he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under her gaze.
"Like hot chocolate, my favorite," she said, taking a step closer.
"Thanks. I like them too, but brown's a pretty common color, you know?" He scanned for an exit, but he kind of wanted to know if that was the third thing.
She wiggled her finger for Asher to come closer.
He bent lower and brought his ear close to her mouth. He was fairly sure he'd regret it.
"Oh! I really…," all Asher got was a slur of one long 'really' and a wet ear. It was well beyond his party linguistic ability. He was about to ask for clarification when a crash, loud enough to out-boom the party soundtrack, came from the kitchen.
Breath. Just breath. Asher felt the familiar trembles of an attack. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, letting the music steady him.
"Asher?"
Autumn reached out and took his hand. It would have been gentle if her state didn't cause her to yank his arm for balance. Still, she sensed his distress and had reached out. Now it was his turn. Her hand in his, he opened his eyes and looked around the party. He wouldn't leave her unattended. Most of the folks from school were respectful, but most wasn't all. He wasn't interested, but he shouldn't leave her alone.
He saw one of Autumn's friends sitting nearby and escorted Autumn over to her. "She's about ready to head home, I think."
"Hey!" Autumn tossed a sluggish swat his way and gave an exaggerated pout as she flopped down on the couch. "I hate boys."
Asher could hear cheers and claps coming from the kitchen. He didn't know why he wasn't interested in her. Autumn was great, from what he knew of her. While he would never pursue a connection while she was drinking, even sober, he wasn't into her. He just wanted more.
Asher could see the kitchen from here. Seemed O'Leary had put his hand down on a small potted cactus sitting in the center of the kitchen's island. His reaction had knocked a few bottles and dishes to the ground, causing the commotion. He was getting a standing ovation and help to pull out the needles.
"Hey, Asher! Mr. Captain man," A blond teen about the same height as Asher and had a patchy mess on his face that he called a beard. His long hair was up in a man-bun. He swung his hand in an upward arc as he approached.
Asher knew the ritual. He swung his hand to greet the incoming high-five. "Hey Klipper, how goes the night?"
People shifted throughout the house, some dancing, some sitting wherever they could or standing in one line or another, some trying to have meaningful shouts about life, while others swam in circles, moving from area to area. Klipper was one of those folks. He was like a shark. Asher wasn't sure he knew what a shark was, or where the word came from, but it fit what he knew of Klipper.
"Good man. Good. I mean, if I'm lucky, I'll be getting a hat trick tonight." Klipper let out a laugh as he took a pull from his red cup, finishing it with a deep slug.
Whatever was in that cup smelled foul. "Really, man? Why say shit like that?" Asher's attention was split between Klipper and watching the kitchen.
"Whoa! Sorry, oh-cap-i-tan didn't mean to damage your delicate sensibilities," crushing and tossing his cup to the floor.
"Not cool," said Asher, picking the cup up. "This is a teammates' place. Have some respect." Asher took a threatening step forward. "Go have another drink, Klipper. Maybe it knocks you down before I have to." Sharks needed to be reminded that they weren't the kings they thought they were from time-to-time.
"Whatever." He threw up some air quotes, as he took a stumbling step back into the wall, one hand braced while the other gave a mocking thumbs up.
Asher turned. He wanted to make his way towards the kitchen. While trying to figure out just what a shark was when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and braced.
"Hey, Asher!" called Klipper as he reversed direction off the wall back towards him. "Whoa, man. It's okay, just me again."
Asher relaxed but kept balanced on the balls of his feet.
Klipper stumbled up to him. "Hey if you won't take a piece off that delicious Autumn, mind if I get a slice?"
A quick jab popped Klipper square on the nose. He stumbled, lost his balance, and hit the floor.
Or at least that's what everyone else saw.
One Klipper hit the floor, but a second Klipper, his color drained to gray, stayed standing and smiled.
"No." Asher turned and sprinted through the crowd. Each person changed as he streaked past towards the door. He didn't knock anyone aside, instead he ran straight through them! Their mist-like arms reached out for him, thick gray mist closed in, and the living room disappeared.
Out of the mist appeared Klipper, still smiling. Asher couldn't turn in time. Klipper's hands slammed through his chest and grasp the core of him. His very soul.
*FLICK*