Scene 19 - October 31st
Exterior Frat House, Continuous
Quinn Kaufman
After taking the picture, Simone hefted one of us in each arm. Before I had time to really register it, the world twisted and warped as she bent spacetime, and then she was setting us down in an alley a few blocks away from the party. It wasn’t the worst way to travel, I supposed, even if it was a little nausea-inducing to experience. Holly, however, looked perfectly fine, so I steeled myself and didn’t show it. Perhaps it would get better with practice.
Not that I was likely to get all that much, since I had decided not to join the Journeymen. But if I kept in contact with these two, perhaps Simone would still transport me every now and then.
From the alley Simone had taken us to it was only a few minutes’ walk to Phi Beta’s house, which sprawled somewhat but wasn’t as luxurious as the Koval family’s mansion - I was still amazed that Holly’s family was apparently so wealthy and I had had no idea. We joined the throng of people milling around the doorway, two frat bros dressed as Roman guardsmen judging each person’s suitability to enter. Anyone in a costume got in free, but those out of costume - or simply in one that the doormen felt to be ‘too lazy’, as they judged a group of freshmen girls whose costumes consisted of tight black shirts and cat ear headbands - were asked for five dollars to help cover expenses. You then got one of three stamps - DD for designated driver, O for those over 21, or X for those too young to drink.
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“Do you have a wallet somewhere in those tiny shorts?” I asked Simone. “This year’s door guards don’t look to be swayed by cleavage like they sometimes are.”
“I think I’ll be okay,” she said, confident as ever. “The nerf guns ought to push me over the edge.”
My phone buzzed as we approached the judges, and I pulled it out to silence it. When I glanced at the screen, though, I was surprised to see that the caller ID read Devon Durandel. “Sorry guys, I think I gotta take this,” I said apologetically, stepping out of line. “Devon never calls unless it’s important. What’s up, Devon?”
“It’s your dad,” they said, their voice low and serious.
I suppressed a sigh. “Another flare-up? Well, thanks for letting me know. I have plans tonight, but I’ll be in to see him tomorrow-”
“No, Quinn, you need to come in now,” they insisted. “It’s not just another flare-up that he’ll get through. It’s bad.”
My blood was starting to run cold, but I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to believe it. “But... but he was just in the hospital a few weeks ago! He was checked out with a clean bill of health, he-”
“He wasn’t. I wanted to tell you, but... it was bad that time too. It’s been getting worse for the last three months, according to Doctor Yaffe.”
“I... why didn’t he tell me?”
“...you should come in and ask him yourself. I came in because he was my patient for so long, and... we’re not sure he’ll make it through the night.”