Chapter 42 – So Long and Thanks for All the Fishnets

I gently rubbed her shoulder and shut my eyes. It was nice to do something and not get shit on for it, no matter which way it went. I enjoyed the moment. No way it could last.

Lea hopped up from the couch and looked around the room a little. She smirked and declared, “This is a really cool room.”

My knee-jerk reaction was “Yeah, right”, but I knew she was being sincere. Not everyone had a room like this. Even though it needed better cleaning and organization than it usually received. Not that I was helping matters.

Turning, Lea gave me a quick smirk and softly stated, “I have an idea...” Before I could catch her meaning, he scampered through the opening to the hallway. In years before, there’d been a wooden gate, not even painted or finished, which separated the front room from the rest of the house.

I never really understood why it was there. Baby me wandered the house without restraint anyway. I drew on it a few times. It had been removed long after any usefulness, but the supporting screws were still in the wall.

Brushing my hair back, I could only imagine what Lea was up to. She returned quickly, with a smile on her face and a black trash bag. Before I could ask, she got to work with all the little things in the room I typically forgot about.

She tidied quietly. She was even allowed to use the vacuum. I marveled at her energy as I settled into my own sloth-like, depleted, and groggy state. She didn’t mind. She moved tirelessly and quipped, “I’m killing stinky rats now…and dust bunnies.”

By the time she was done…well, it was more an incremental improvement than a huge one but it did clear the air. The oppression of the years in that room lifted and it felt nice to take a long, deep breath. I thanked her quietly. She noted, “Gotta earn my keep. I don’t mind.”

Once she’d put everything away, she settled down next to me again, finding the same spot, and went back to warming it. I flopped open the textbook.

I eventually got my homework done for Friday. By which I mean I completed the bare essentials I would need on an optimistic day where everything went exactly right.

Lea’s changes from my second focus had lingered even when she was cleaning. In my head, I weighed my influence on people with this thing I had, whatever it was. On the low-end were my parents. A couple drops in a large canister. Probably a bunch of people like that with just trace doses.

Above that were the guys at my table in Biology class along with Sophia. Changed, altered but ultimately still the same. Then Cody and Ben. No idea what the fallout would be for them.

And no idea where to put the other girls. Summer’s personality hadn’t changed, but Heather had a moment where she started to act like Lea. And then there was Lea.

If I could put everyone so far on a spectrum of a couple of drops to something sloshing around inside, then Lea was the container I’d filled over and was spilling out and everywhere. I had no idea what that might bring but holding her close helped me not to fret about it.

It was getting late and dad came by a few times to double-check that we were okay. We went to our proper places.

Eventually, he asked, “Should I drop you off at your house, Lea? Do you need to go?”

At that moment, it occurred to me that my dad might actually remember where Wes lived and piece things together if he took her home. Of course, she could ask to be dropped off a ways from her house and walk the rest. I’d have to plan that with her ahead of time.

She took a deep breath and folded her arms before asking, “Actually, I was kinda chatting it over with Kenzie and I was wondering if I could sleep over for the night. I’m so sorry to impose on you again.”

His jaw tightened, and he nearly shook his head. “We’ll have to discuss it. What’s going on with your family that you can’t go home?” His words had the slightest tinge of concern but slanted with accusation.

Lea kept calm and polite with vague reasons which were technically correct. The same reasons needed to be put to my mother in her high couch throne. She wobbled with Lea’s kind words and meticulous insistence. I had to learn from her. Like how not to be exhausted just chatting with mom.

I kept to the side and did my best not to muck it all up. Still, I caught my mother’s attention as she asked, “What are you up to?” Her eyes squinted in that usual way.

With a downcast look, I assured her, “Just want to make sure my friend is okay.”

Lea smiled back at me and offered up, “If you have a blanket and a pillow, I’m fine on the couch in that front room. I tidied up a bit.” Mom calmly nodded with that and waited.

Gesturing to the bathroom, Lea added, “I’d just need to wash up. Although, I don’t have a change of clothes. Sorry.”

I leaned forward and offered, “I might have something.” Don’t muck it up. Mom returned her full focus to me and settled back into the depths of her couch.

Hearing all this, she soon made her pronouncement, “Just tonight. Lea, you may use whichever couch you find most comfortable. We have some spare pillows. And, if Kenzie is willing to loan you some clothes, then that’s up to her. But I want you both in bed when you should be in bed…”

Lea agreed eagerly and put on her nicest face for mom. In my room, she sifted through the drawers, pausing at my various legwear and envisioning all sorts of styles from fishnets to tights. She ultimately picked out an old pair of flannel pajamas I hadn’t worn in a long time. At least they didn’t smell of dust.  

When my parents weren’t looking, we both snuck into the separate bathroom. It was a small one. Just standing side by side was difficult. Lea lingered before the mirror. It was tiny compared to the one in the master, but it showed enough. Slowly, she undressed.

I gave her space and folded my arms. She stood there naked. Not like I hadn’t seen other girls my age naked. But I reminded myself her smooth flesh had a harder edge just days ago. Her broad, dusty nipples were once simpler. And between her legs…I rubbed my eyes and withheld a sigh.

For myself as much as for her, I asked again, “You alright?”

With a deep breath through her nose, Lea smirked at me and said, “It’s getting easier to look at myself in the mirror, if that means anything.”

She splashed a little water on her face and used the toilet without assistance. Swallowing, I told her softly, “I’ll wait for you to be done.” She looked after me but nodded calmly.

I left quietly and returned to my bedroom. I sat on the bed and draped my body across it. It gave a little creak and shift. There, I passed the time as the shower ran, reflecting on so many moments from the day which stuck fast in my head and so many more moments that slipped through, leaving behind only a shiver of anxiety and concern for the next.

At least it was a Friday. Nothing happened on a Friday. Most times.

After taking a shower a bit shorter than any of mine, Lea emerged with a towel wrapped around herself. I passed her the pajamas and went next.

I never like showering second. There’s a sickly wet smell which clings to everything worse than a drenched dog. But then there weren’t many places for the steam to vent. I cracked the side window slightly, but a chill breeze made me shiver. I continued through the normal routine.

I stood and let the water wash over me. Sometimes the best part of my day. And, on this day, I could imagine that all the perspiration of a thousand thoughts and a dozen different actions could leach from my body and be sucked down the drain forever, never to be seen or felt again. Purified. The sweet delusion of a sixteen-year-old.

When I finished, I felt better, like all things encroaching on me had been pushed back. I found Lea paging through one of my books.

She slipped around me to the door and whispered, “I’m gonna try to sneak over later, okay?”

It was hard to sleep after that, even with the weight of the covers. I considered sleeping on top, but I couldn’t get comfortable. Not even knitting the blankets between my legs achieved serenity. Still, somehow, I nodded off.

When I woke, I felt a small, warm hand on my shoulder in the darkness.

“Kenzie…” Even with the bare, amber trickle through the window, Lea’s features were clear, as though she’d been lightly-coated in glow-in-the-dark paint. Flipping the lights on, we worked to clear her side of the bed so she could slip in comfortably.

I fidgeted and shifted even more than usual as she settled in with the first moment her head touched the pillow. Underneath the covers, she clasped my hand and gently shut her eyes.

She looked so serene. I had so many words I wanted to offer her, so many questions, so many concerns and fears and feelings and little trickles of thought which I could barely hold onto. But that moment called for no words. Just the hope no one bothered to check on us.

I dreamed that night, starting at the edge of my last conscious thought. I was on an beachfront. The sun rose over the waters at dawn. Back then, we often took summer trips along the coast, but this was an unfamiliar shore.

Just darkened sand on either side with the edge of the tide. The wind tickled my hair, and I blinked when it fell over my face. Before I pushed it back, I noticed it was a brilliant shade of green, brighter than emeralds or the best-kept lawn. My dream-self didn’t dwell on this.

Instead, she stepped closer to the ebb and flow of the water. Her feet were bare, the sand coldly sticking to them. The water washed them clean but drew more sand between her toes. As I stood there, I realized somehow I wasn’t alone. But my dream self refused to look.

We both knew someone was there, right behind us. It didn’t concern us or make us afraid. We could almost catch sight of the other but a glint of the rising sun caught us in the eye, a bright sting. And the moment passed from dream to waking.

Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist