“You’re such a scumbag.” Drew flung open the door, causing Auden to move out of the way for her to scurry out. So I’m the scumbag, even though I’d never cheated on you. Right… He closed the door behind him and slid to the floor, slamming the back of his head against the wood. The slight throb felt good—his head wasn’t spinning as much anymore.
He looked around at what must be Heather’s younger sister’s room. A Muppet Babies comforter covered the mattress, and a cluster of about thirty stuffed animals sat on top, all judging him. This was somewhere he wouldn’t have felt comfortable screwing, anyway.
Outside the bedroom, a cacophony of notes coming from a flute poured out. Auden hurried and yanked the door open, anxiously looking both ways down the carpeted hall, but all remained silent, not a single music note floated through the air. Only the laughter and bass line from downstairs.
Another beer was something he needed in that moment, and then he’d find Darrin to drive Jenny back to his apartment. He hoped to God he wouldn’t draw up any more drunken imagery or have another run-in with Drew on the way to the alcohol. Before she ended things with him, he thought they’d been completely in sync. But she’d been just another piece of an addiction-filled puzzle. And he’d chosen to toss that particular puzzle piece away, along with the cigarette one. Once he’d done that, Auden had felt lighter without them, especially added with the progress he’d made by working with the school counselor for years. Even when he was younger, addiction had always been there, such as the need to collect every action figure he could.
But the lyrical notes with Lark were ones that were different, they made him feel worthy because they didn’t take from him, they gave.
As he stumbled down the stairs, the shitty party music played on full blast. “Hungry Like The Wolf” blared through the speakers, making his head pound even harder. At the last party he’d gone to, he remembered Lark saying, “We get it. You have a large appetite, Duran Duran.”
He chuckled to himself at the memory as Darrin strolled up and handed Auden a beer. “The music’s great, isn’t it?”
“No.” Grabbing the plastic cup, he guzzled it down. Last one of the night.
Darrin reached up to wrap an arm around Auden’s tall frame. “Lighten up.”
“Like a light bulb?” Auden said, filled with sarcasm.
“Sure. Why not? I don’t carry light bulbs, though, but I do have a flashlight.” He tugged out a miniature blue one from his back pocket.
“I don’t even want to know why you carry that.” Auden shook his head, regretting his decisions of the night. “Are you ready?”
“If you are.”
“Yeah, I was going to grab another beer, but you must’ve read my mind.” He stared at the empty cup for a moment and set it down. Next time, he wouldn’t slip into the old Auden.
On the way out, Auden’s shirt clung to his back and stomach in the humid air. Darrin kept staring at Auden’s neck. “Found you some action?”
“No.” His mind drifted to Drew, and he cringed about the incident. What bothered him even more than his cheating ex-girlfriend was the fact he’d thought it had been Lark.
“Ah. Unwanted attention then.” Darrin grinned.
“I fixed it.” One problem anyway. Yet a particular girl with musical lyrics continued to be a pestering gnat buzzing around inside his head.
“Drew was dancing in the living room all over some guy I’d never seen before.”
“Good for her.”
“Normally, you’d be more down in the dirt about that.” Darrin’s gaze fixed on Auden as if he thought his friend might punch something right then and there, but he didn’t.
“Things change.”
With a smirk on his face, Darrin clasped Auden’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “That they do.”
Auden tossed the keys to Darrin, entrusting him with Jenny. If Darrin messed with her too much, he would have to protect himself from Auden. But when Darrin slipped into the driver’s seat, he massaged the steering wheel with an awed expression. That alone let Auden know she was in good hands.
Out the passenger window as Darrin drove, something moved from the corner of Auden’s eye. His head spun as he turned and focused on the same fucker with the trench coat who’d bumped into him at the store. He stood on the sidewalk, holding the rectangular object, and staring right at Auden. Auden wondered what his expression was beneath the mask.
“Stop!” Auden shouted, right when Darrin was almost at the end of the street.
Darrin slammed on the brakes, jolting them both forward. “What? Did I almost hit someone?” He threw the van in park, studying the street with his mouth hanging open.
“No.” Auden looked back out the window at the man still standing there. In a flash, the stranger disappeared, a silvery light faded in and out. “Di-did you see that?” With wide eyes, he hurried and faced Darrin. “The man, he was right there, holding something and then just poofed into some silvery shit.”
Darrin squinted his eyes and leaned over Auden to get a better view out the window. After a moment, he started chuckling. “Man, you’re so drunk. No one was there.”
Auden’s head was spinning, but he could’ve sworn…
Darrin relaxed back into his seat. “We’ll start that movie marathon when we get to my place to get you back into shape.” Then he sang the wrong lyrics spewing out from the upbeat song playing on the radio.
“I guess so.” Auden pulled the lever to recline the seat back and zoned out the world. The confusion over what he thought he'd seen left him feeling like his grip on reality was slipping. Much like his real father’s had before him.
* * *
When Lark got home from work, she parked her bike behind the trailer. The trailer was actually in semi-decent shape, not dilapidated like a lot of the other ones around the park. The bicycle, on the other hand, was practically garbage, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t get stolen. Two kids had already attempted thievery in the past—she wasn’t about to risk someone trying to jack it again.
Lark slung the heavy trash bag of goods from Imani over her shoulder like she was Santa fucking Claus. In the other hand, she carried her Siouxsie vinyl and listened to a little “Love Is A Battlefield” through her headphones. Pat Benatar had all the right answers in life. Thoughts of Auden still crept through her head, though she tried not to dwell on the “costume” comment. She pushed the thoughts aside as she shuffled up the wooden steps, each one groaning.
Something silvery flashed in her periphery and she paused on the steps, hesitantly turning her head in the direction from which it came. “Hello?” she said, her chest heaving.
A stray dog darted out from the other side of the trailer, barking as it ran across the street, practically giving her a heart attack. Lark let out a sigh. With the creep at the store, the strange flute music, and the stress with Auden today, she tried to hold it together.
The front door was already unlocked, and the inside of the trailer reeked of cigarette smoke, burnt cheese, and bad perm. Grunting, she dropped the bag in front of her feet and shut the door with the heel of her boot. Lark slid the headphones down and took a deep breath.