The Flight of the Ones Eve ended, and so with that end also ended many fine folks' nights. Vendors closed up, friends said so long, and people poured out of the park.
The girls got out in a reasonable amount of time with no real trouble, and they retraced their steps back to the school where their cars were waiting. Mireh was talking to Retta, who was talking like someone who hadn't been moved to tears a little bit ago. Mireh tried to brush that incident off as nothing major, but in all her years of knowing Retta, she hadn't seen her cry once. Not even when her family had to put down their pet dog. Retta didn't cry, but she did mope around in bed for the next two days.
If the Flight of the Aims made her tear up, she wondered how she was going to take the Flight of the Ones less than 24 hours from now.
Temera wasn't included in their conversation about their thoughts on the festival. Now that the only thing keeping her awake was over, she sleptwalked her way back to the school. Schildkröte/Nathan/Beelzebub was still in her arms and probably would be even if she tipped over in exhaustion. Mireh and Retta tried getting her to join in, but no matter the question or phrase thrown at her, she'd answer with either “Mmm,” or, “Mmhn.” Once, she answered with, “Mmgrnh.” So they took a hint and let her consciousness teeter on that line between reality and performing a speech naked.
They returned to the school student parking lot, and returning to it felt like entering a surrealist landscape. Seeing their school at nighttime is a rarer sight for a teenager than walking into class and finding out that the teacher's throwing a surprise ice cream party, and Mireh wasn't sure how else to describe the sight of hers and Retta's cars parked beneath one of the school's parking lot lights aside from weird.
“Ladies, your charities await,” Retta announced. “Except you, Temera. You're walking home, apparently.”
“Mmhn.”
“Who's taking her home? You or me?” Mireh asked as she threw her souvenirs in the car.
“Where do you live?” Retta asked her.
“Falling Sunrise.”
“That's not too far from where I live, so I guess I'll be your chauffeur for the night,” Retta said.
Temera bobbed her head.
“Where're we going to meet up for the Flight tomorrow?” Mireh asked.
Retta's eyes starting wandering a little. “Um, about that...”
“Hm?”
She looked up at the parking lot light. “I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to make it.”
“Why not?”
“There's something important I have to take care of.”
“Tomorrow? Seriously? What do you have going on that's suddenly more important that the Flight of the Ones? You know, the thing we planned out to see months ago?”
“I'm sorry, but...something came up...” she said, her eyes on the asphalt.
Mireh's memory flashbacked to Retta crying, and a couple of possibilities popped into her head. “What's the matter? Are your parents okay?”
“They're fine...”
“Your dad didn't lose his job or anything, did he?”
“No...”
“Did your grandparents—”
“They're fine, too...”
“Then...then I don't understand.” Mireh had run out of plausible scenarios. “Did your mom commit embezzlement and now you and your family have to live life on the road?”
“Everything's fine with my family,” Retta said. “It's...It's me...”
“You? What about you?”
“...”
“Retta, I'm not a mindreader. Even though I've known you for so long, I can't read your mind. If you don't tell me what's wrong, I won't know.”
“...”
“Do you not want to talk about it?” Temera asked.
“I wish I didn't need to, but...but I do,” Retta said.
“Then tell us what's wrong.”
“...”
“Retta, what's wrong? Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not trust me, or is it because Temera's here?”
“Should I wait in the car?”
Retta shook her head at Temera's question. “You need to know, too.”
“Then tell us.”
“I will....I—I—”
“Retta, come on. Out with it. If you stole something or you found out you're pregnant, tell me. I'm not here to judge you or rat you out.”
“Hmh.” That was the best chuckle Retta could manage. “If only it was either of those...”
“Retta.” Mireh crossed her arms and ran her hand down her face.
“Maybe we should leave her.”
“She said it's something she needs to tell us.”
“But she's having such a hard time saying it.”
“I don't see what it could be, though, that's the thing,” Mireh said to Temera. “This is the girl who'll tell you when she's constipated. I doubt what she's hiding is something that terrible or embarrassing.”
“Okay, but—”
“What're you trying to tell us?” Mireh asked Retta. “Does this have to do with our friendship? Are you trying to tell me that you don't want to be friends anymore or that you've hated me this whole time or that you've been swiping money from me when I'm not looking?”
“It does have to do with our friendship, but it's none of those things...” Retta said, now at Temera's volume.
“What, then? What about our friendship is it that you're hiding? What about our friendship has got you standing here like a six-year-old about to piss her pants?”
“...”
“Tell me.”
“I will....”
“.....”
“.....”
“........”
“I'm waiting.”
“.......”
“Now you're just pissing me off,” Mireh said. “If you changed your mind and you don't wanna go to the Flight tomorrow, that's fine. But don't beat around the bush with your bullshit secrets.”
“......I'm sorry.....It's just that...I...I'm...I'm going to...I'm going....I'm....going.......to.........”
“Rragh! Forget about it. If you're not gonna tell me, I'm leaving.” Mireh stormed over to her car and got in.
“Mireh, wait! Don't—Don't go! Please!” Retta cried as she went up to Mireh's window.
Mireh started up her car and threw it into reverse, but she couldn't let her foot off the brake, because Temera was standing in her rearview mirror. “Get outta my way!” She cursed at Retta for parking her car in front of hers.
Temera stood there. Trembling, but she stood there. Her lips moved, but Mireh didn't hear what came out. She honked her horn, but the short girl wouldn't move.
Retta had her hands on the window, still begging Mireh to listen to what she had to say. Her voice was muffled through the glass, but that made it more annoying to her.
“Mireh, please, don't—don't—I need to...I'm sorry I'm having so much trouble telling you, but...please...if you give me a minute, I-I can tell you...somehow.....”
“Shut up and leave me alone already!”
“The truth is, I—Tomorrow I'm...I'm probably...My...My...”
“Shut up already, you stupid fucking bitch!”
“Mireh...”
“Mireh!”
Mireh could hear Temera's voice, too, now. Mouth agape, volume the loudest it's ever been. Stuffed animal still in her arms. Eyes shaking. Fingers had gone icy. Mireh was surprised that she hadn't run off at the first instance of animosity. It was likely that was all she wanted to do, but
And she could see Retta's face through her window. Eyes bloodshot. Cheeks wet. Lips quivering and mouth moving. This was the first time Mireh had seen her like this. In fact, she looked like a girl who was about to
Mireh kicked open her car door, got out, and shouted, “SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of your crying and your whining and how you say you have something to say yet all you can say is 'I I'm going to Mireh I'm going to I need to tell you I'm going to' Shut up! Just shut up! Shut the fuck up already! Please! Shut your fucking mouth! You're acting like a fucking crybaby! If you have something to say. Just. Fucking. Say it! Goddamn, how fucking hard is that to understand?”
Mireh had to restrain herself. Hands trembling. Lungs going. Head spinning round in circles. A little voice in the back of her head was telling her that exploding like this was achieving nothing, and yet she was angry enough that she could
Retta sniffled (She had been doing that a lot, actually). “I...I don't......”
Mireh's hand was moving on its own. “Forget about it,” she said and stormed off. “You wanna stand here and cry all night? Be my guest. Be my fucking guest.”
“Mireh, wait!” Retta called out to her.
“Can't you hear her out?” Temera asked.
Mireh stopped. She was digging her fingernails into her palm. “I have been trying to hear her out. I really have. But all she wants to do is stand there and stutter as she pisses her pants. Like, who are you? Seriously, who the fuck are you?” she asked Retta.
“...?”
“You look like Retta, but you're sure as hell not acting like Retta,” she said. “Like, don't tell me that all this time you've been nothing but a big fucking crybaby.” Not that she cared, but still. “I mean, I don't see what possibly could've happened that you're acting like this. Did I do something to piss you off?”
“No...”
“Did I do something to Temera that upset you?”
“No...”
“Did a fucking alien parasite burrow into your head and is now controlling you?”
“No.”
“Then what, Retta? What is it? Huh? Tell me. What is it that's got you so upset that you've become a completely different person? What is it that has you so distressed that I'm seeing you crying for the first time ever? What is is that's made you so distraught that you can't finish a single fucking sentence? Huh? Tell me, Retta. I wanna know. I'm all ears. I'm hearing you out. So tell me. Please. I'm waiting.”
“...” Retta cast her eyes at the ground as she fiddled with her fingertips.
“...” Temera's gaze went from Retta to Mireh from Retta to Mireh from Retta to Mireh from Retta to Mireh.
“...” Mireh waited with her arms crossed, and she tapped her finger against her arm.
“...”
“.......”
“.....Well?”
“.....”
“Retta!”
She flinched. “I...I'm trying...I....”
“How do you expect Retta to talk when you're being so mean to her?” Temera said. “Aren't you her best friend? I thought best friends were supportive of each other no matter what.”
“You shut your fucking mouth. I know more about Retta than her own parents, and I know there's not a single goddamn thing in this world that would make her cry like this. Nothing. We've watched the saddest movies together and she didn't shed one tear. Not a single one. And you have the gawd to stand there and ask if we're best friends? Stay out of other people's business if you don't know what the hell you're talking about.”
Now Temera was the next to breakdown.
Mireh turned her attention back to Retta. “You've got five seconds to tell me what the hell you're crying about. One.” She held up a finger.
“...”
“Two.”
“...I...”
“Three.”
“...I'm going...”
“Four.”
“...going to...”
“Five.”
“...D-D-D...”
“Hmph. Whatever.” Retta turned around and started walking away. “Fucking bitch.”
“Mireh, don't! Don't go! Don't—Don't leave me! I'm going...” She took a step forward and reached out a hand, but already Mireh seemed so far away. “No! You—You can't! Please! I! I have to...!”
And she was walking away.
Farther...
And farther....
Getting farther.....
And farther away......
Mireh, she was.......
“I'M GOING TO DIE!”
“....................What....................?”
No way.
No way she heard that right.
No way.
Mireh was frozen. She could've sworn a bombshell had been dropped on her. But she had to have heard that wrong.
She turned.
And looked.
And saw Retta.
Foot forward. Hands balled up. Jaw clenched. Face as red as it could be. Eyes, too.
And saw Temera.
Foot backward. Arms trembling. Mouth agape. Eyes large as they could go. Wet, too.
And if she could turn and look and see herself.
Knees wobbling. Fingers gone cold. Face pale. Head shaking slowly as it could. Woozy, too.
“No,” Mireh said. “Y-You're lying!”
Retta bit her lip. Couldn't look her in the eye.
“You're lying!”
“—lying! —lying!” said her echo.
“You're right,” Retta didn't say. “I was just messing with you. Sorry I made you so mad,” she didn't say. “Let's go home and forget this all happened, yeah?” she didn't say.
Perhaps in a different universe or in a different story she said those things.
But not this one.
What Retta said was
She said nothing.
No line of text.
No quote to be had.
Not even a dot dot dot to fill in the space.
Mireh's head was still shaking. “You're...You're lying. You—I know you are.”
“I'm not...” Retta did say.
“This is one big joke, isn't it? It's a play-a-prank-on-your-best-friend holiday or something, right? Or is this get back at me for something? Like for that time I ate your pudding at lunch? Or when I slipped a fake 100 menos bill into your wallet? You're just playing a prank on me. Yeah, that's all. A harmless little prank. Well, you sure fooled me. I almost thought you were really dying for a second, but I see what game you're playing. Clever. You may not have the best grades, but you're a clever one, Retta.”
“It's not a joke,” Retta did say.
“No, no. No need to try to convince me. I can see through your little plan. You're just trying to guilt trip me into buying you ice cream. You know, just like that time I accidentally broke your flashdrive and you made me buy you an ice cream sandwich because you had to rewrite your essay for Mrs. Burch, right?”
“I'm not guilt tripping you into anything, Mireh, I would never—”
“Stop right there. No need to make me feel bad. I know how much of a hankering you get for ice cream after you've been running around. There's no need to cry if you really want me to buy you an ice cream sundae because you spent all your money at the festival. That's all you want, right? Some ice cream? All the ice creams shops are closed by now, but I'm sure we can get a quart from a gas station somewh—”
“WOULD YOU LISTEN TO ME FOR TWO GODDAMN SECONDS?!”
“.....”
“.....”
“I'm going to die. Tomorrow, I'm going to die. Monday at the latest, but—”
“You're lying!”
“No, I'm not!”
“Stop it with the bullshit!”
“Shut up! Shut. Up! Shut your fucking mouth! AND FUCKING LISTEN TO ME!”
“—TO ME! —TO ME!” bellowed her echo.
“I'm dying! I'm fucking dying! My fucking moon is right over my fucking head and there's not a goddamn thing I can do about it!” She pointed up. “Are you happy? Are you happy now? Are you? Are you happy now that you know I'm going to die?!”
Mireh
Mireh, she
It wasn't true.
It wasn't. It just wasn't.
Mireh
Mireh, she
c ou l dn ' t s e e st r a i gh t .
woɹlp wɐs sdᴉnniug.536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsV5dwnXd8G
thoughts not ʇɐɥʍ¿coherent ʇ,uop ᴉ˙˙˙
“I said it
all right?”536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEFGQOrCbsU
Sniffle.536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnrtBP8Sc07
“I finally said it.”536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOtwjFih4bj
Retta536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt1oMTyP9VA
dabbed her eyes.536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvo529Yq2fP
“I'm sorry
I made this so hard.”
Temera came up to her536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQN3ygncGr0
and hugged her from the side.536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoFeFFscaN7
I—
I don't—
Retta
she—
“Mireh.”536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi5o4SS9G7G
It—
not true—
but—
but that—
that would mean—
“Mireh.”536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhdOCLeAllk
Moon—
The moon—
The moon is—
The moon is—
Her moon is—
“Mireh.”
The school grounds.
Their cars parked beneath a light.
Retta standing opposite a fair distance away.
With Temera hugging her.
Both of them
Crying.
Right.
This was reality.
Mireh looked at Retta.
And Retta looked at her back.
And Mireh ran up to her
hugged her
and nearly took her off her feet.
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I—I had no idea! No idea that you were—”
Last in line to breakdown: Mireh.
“Why? Why didn't you tell me th-that you were dying?”
“I...I didn't know how to...” Retta said. “How're you supposed to tell your best friend that you're dying?”
“If you had told me, I could've...We could've—”
“There's nothing we could've done,” Retta told her. “Nothing we could've done except for what we did tonight. And that's all I wanted. Just you. Me. And Temera, too, it turned out. And Nathan.”
“Nnngh. Hcnggnh.” It's hard to speak when you're crying. “What about—Then we're—Tomorrow night is—How—How long—How much—” What exactly she wanted to say, she wasn't sure. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but Retta would need another lifetime to answer them all. But she managed to ask one: “What're we gonna do about tomorrow night? Are you...Will you make it?”
“..........No promises..........”536Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfrP7swtD6G
