as first meetings go, ours was not going well.
“Why are you being such a jerk?” I asked.
“Why are
you
being such a baby?” she asked back.
“Get off me! You’re crushing my ribs.”
“Man, you’re a wuss.”
“Hey, shut up. I don’t even know you.”
“Thank God.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that the only reason I bothered to save you was that if they caught you they’d probably use you to get to me!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, since I was pretty confused at that point. “Who wants to catch me?”
“Yeah, like you don’t know.”
“I don’t! I have no idea where I am or what’s going on or why everything I’ve been seeing for the past four hours is completely different from anything I’ve ever seen in my life! So stop yelling at me and get your butt off my chest!”
She gave me a weird look like I had said something that surprised her, then sat up so that she wasn’t in my face anymore, even though she was still sitting on me and crushing my rib cage.
“Four hours?” she said, shocked. “Do you mean you
just
got here?”
“Yes!” It’s pretty embarrassing to admit but when I said this I was sort of about two seconds away from crying. Not that I’m the kind of kid who starts crying if anything bad happens. I’d had plenty of bad stuff happen to me over the years but very seldom did I cry about it. I mean, I wasn’t like Paul Fresco, the big tall kid who was a grade higher than me who was famous for crying whenever anything happened to him. He even started crying once just because somebody asked him why he always cried.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“I told you, I don’t know. My friends and I made a rocket but the engine exploded when I went inside it and when I got out of it, everything was gone and I was wherever this place is.”
I was trying really hard to hold it together but my stupid nose was starting to run and so I had to do a big sniffle the second I finished what I said. Fortunately, she seemed to be thinking about something else and wasn’t really paying attention to me or my nose at that moment.
“Then it’s true,” was all she said, way more to herself than to me.
“What’s true?” I asked with another big embarrassing sniffle.
“That’s the same way I got here,” she said, looking at me like I was supposed to be all amazed.
“You built a rocket and it blew up?”
“No, dummy, I got here because of an explosion, too.”
“You did?” I asked, pretending to scratch my nose while actually intercepting a drip that was about to come out. “What kind of explosion?”
“I was mixing a bunch of chemicals that I wasn’t supposed to be mixing in my chemistry class and the whole thing exploded and when I woke up, I was lying on top of a hill next to this city.”
I was pretty surprised when she told me this, I have to admit, because it made me remember something. A year ago, there was this big story in our local paper about this weird girl from the high school who had blown herself up in science class. I didn’t know who she was, but the kids in my grade with older brothers and sisters said she was this really strange girl who was pretty smart but who never talked to anybody and who always dressed like she thought she was living in a vampire movie. A lot of people thought that she blew herself up on purpose because she only listened to really depressing music about death and dying. It always sounded a lot to me like the way Mr. Arthur had died. Or appeared to have died, since both his and Karen’s bodies were never found at the explosion sites.
“I read about you in the newspaper. Everybody thinks you blew yourself up on purpose,” I said, wondering if she was going to get mad.
She did.
“God, that’s so stupid! Figures all those mindless drones in that toilet of a town would think I would kill myself just because I wasn’t one of them. Yes, that’s me. The poor little suicidal
“Why are you being such a jerk?” I asked.
“Why are
you
being such a baby?” she asked back.
“Get off me! You’re crushing my ribs.”
“Man, you’re a wuss.”
“Hey, shut up. I don’t even know you.”
“Thank God.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that the only reason I bothered to save you was that if they caught you they’d probably use you to get to me!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, since I was pretty confused at that point. “Who wants to catch me?”
“Yeah, like you don’t know.”
“I don’t! I have no idea where I am or what’s going on or why everything I’ve been seeing for the past four hours is completely different from anything I’ve ever seen in my life! So stop yelling at me and get your butt off my chest!”
She gave me a weird look like I had said something that surprised her, then sat up so that she wasn’t in my face anymore, even though she was still sitting on me and crushing my rib cage.
“Four hours?” she said, shocked. “Do you mean you
just
got here?”
“Yes!” It’s pretty embarrassing to admit but when I said this I was sort of about two seconds away from crying. Not that I’m the kind of kid who starts crying if anything bad happens. I’d had plenty of bad stuff happen to me over the years but very seldom did I cry about it. I mean, I wasn’t like Paul Fresco, the big tall kid who was a grade higher than me who was famous for crying whenever anything happened to him. He even started crying once just because somebody asked him why he always cried.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“I told you, I don’t know. My friends and I made a rocket but the engine exploded when I went inside it and when I got out of it, everything was gone and I was wherever this place is.”
I was trying really hard to hold it together but my stupid nose was starting to run and so I had to do a big sniffle the second I finished what I said. Fortunately, she seemed to be thinking about something else and wasn’t really paying attention to me or my nose at that moment.
“Then it’s true,” was all she said, way more to herself than to me.
“What’s true?” I asked with another big embarrassing sniffle.
“That’s the same way I got here,” she said, looking at me like I was supposed to be all amazed.
“You built a rocket and it blew up?”
“No, dummy, I got here because of an explosion, too.”
“You did?” I asked, pretending to scratch my nose while actually intercepting a drip that was about to come out. “What kind of explosion?”
“I was mixing a bunch of chemicals that I wasn’t supposed to be mixing in my chemistry class and the whole thing exploded and when I woke up, I was lying on top of a hill next to this city.”
I was pretty surprised when she told me this, I have to admit, because it made me remember something. A year ago, there was this big story in our local paper about this weird girl from the high school who had blown herself up in science class. I didn’t know who she was, but the kids in my grade with older brothers and sisters said she was this really strange girl who was pretty smart but who never talked to anybody and who always dressed like she thought she was living in a vampire movie. A lot of people thought that she blew herself up on purpose because she only listened to really depressing music about death and dying. It always sounded a lot to me like the way Mr. Arthur had died. Or appeared to have died, since both his and Karen’s bodies were never found at the explosion sites.
“I read about you in the newspaper. Everybody thinks you blew yourself up on purpose,” I said, wondering if she was going to get mad.
She did.
“God, that’s so stupid! Figures all those mindless drones in that toilet of a town would think I would kill myself just because I wasn’t one of them. Yes, that’s me. The poor little suicidal
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