OCDaniel, page 5
“You need a trim,” she said, tucking my tufts of blond hair behind my ears. “Are you sleeping all right? You look sick. It’s those circles under your eyes. And you’re so pale. You look like a ghost.”
“This isn’t helping.”
She stepped back and smiled. “But you’re still so handsome. You sure you won’t wear blue?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”
She gave me pointers the entire way there. “Girls like p’s and q’s, no matter what they say. Being polite goes a long way,” she said. “You have to dance. Girls love a dancer. They don’t like the guy in the corner.” She looked at me sternly.
“And remember. The quiet girls in the corner probably want to dance too. Don’t always go after the pretty ones.”
This was all fairly horrifying, of course, so I just sat there silently. We picked up Max, and as he was walking toward the car, she turned to me and said, “See how good he looks in blue?”
I sighed.
“Hey, Mrs. Leigh,” he said, jumping into the car. “Daniel, love the color.”
We pulled up in front of the school, and my mom looked at me.
“Have fun, you two. You sure your mom is okay to pick you guys up?”
“Yeah,” Max said. “She can’t wait to ask me all about it.”
My mom laughed. “I’m sure. Now get in there. You’re late.”
We piled out and walked inside. School is weird at night. It’s exciting for some reason, since I always think it just doesn’t exist when we’re not in class.
We reached the gym, handed in our tickets, and walked inside.
That’s when it all went wrong.
CHAPTER 7
I’m not sure I like the idea of fate. It kind of means you don’t have a choice. Or you can make choices, but they’ll still bring you to the same place. I like the idea of choice, because I don’t get to do it much. Once I tried to not brush my teeth the correct amount of times. And most people would probably say that was an easy thing to do, but for me it was like lying down on some train tracks waiting for a train to hit me, and I heard it rumble and I knew I could get up, and so I did, because why would I want to be hit by a train? So of course I brushed my teeth and went to bed.
The dance looked like fun. It was in the gym, but it was dark enough that everyone kind of looked the same, and there were lights set up, flitting around like multicolored birds. The music was loud and a few people were even dancing. One of them was Mrs. Lenner, who was really loud and wore a lot of yellow and orange outfits.
Principal Frost was watching in the corner, looking agitated.
I looked around, and saw that Raya was there already. She looked beautiful.
She was wearing a dress. I didn’t think she wore dresses. Hers was purple. Her hair was tied back, and I think she had lip gloss on or something, because her lips sparkled.
“Raya looks good,” Max said, sounding bemused.
“Yeah,” I managed.
“Pull it together, Space Cadet,” he said. “Let’s go find the guys.”
I followed him, but my eyes didn’t. They were locked on Raya. I never realized how much I liked the color purple.
Raya saw me and smiled. I smiled and then quickly turned away. I was glad it was dark.
“What up, Max?” Taj said, wearing a white dress shirt that was way too small.
How did he have so many muscles?
“You know,” Max said, standing beside him and looking out at the crowd. “Good crowd.”
Taj nudged Max. “Check out Clara.”
We both looked. Even I was impressed.
Her blond ringlets spilled all the way down her back and over a sky-blue dress.
“Wow,” I said.
“Wow indeed,” Max replied, giving her a little wave. “I didn’t know this was the prom.”
Taj snorted. “You should go talk to her.”
“Maybe later,” he said. “Let’s go join the group.”
“I’ll catch up,” Taj said. “Tom and I are working on a little routine. ‘Billie Jean,’ baby.”
Max laughed and shook his head. “I can hardly wait.”
I felt my cheeks getting even hotter as we got closer to Raya. She was standing with Ashley, and Clara appeared almost instantly, flashing her gleaming white teeth.
“Hey, Max,” she said. “Love the shirt.”
He smiled. “You look nice. Like a princess or something.”
I thought she was going to faint, she looked so happy. “It’s just a thing I had in the closet.”
“Hey, Dan,” Raya said. “Love your shirt too.”
Max smirked. I fixed my collar. “Just a thing I had in my dad’s closet.”
Clara gave me an annoyed look and then walked right past me to talk to Max, laughing at a joke he hadn’t even told yet. I stepped a bit closer to Raya to get out of her way.
“Hey,” I said nervously. “I just wanted to apologize—”
“No,” she said. “I need to apologize. I was being stupid. I’m just, like . . . the only Indian girl in the school, and I get a little sensitive sometimes. We’re good.”
“Good,” I said. “Having fun yet?”
Raya rolled her eyes. “The best. Loud music and boys staring at me across the gym like I might attack them. I do like watching Mrs. Lenner dance, though. That will probably be the highlight of my night.”
“If our dates don’t stop clowning around,” Ashley agreed, who was Tom’s date. “I’m going to go see if that dufus plans on coming over here tonight or just dancing in the corner with his boyfriend.”
She stormed off, leaving me with Raya. I loved dances. Everyone was so preoccupied.
“So how’s your date going?” she asked me, looking at Max.
“Pretty good,” I said. “I mean, my mom picked him up, and I forgot a corsage, so not great.”
She giggled. “Better than mine. Taj’s older brother picked us up in a Camaro and told him to have fun while winking at me. It almost made me vomit.”
“That would have been bad for the Camaro.”
“I know. So did your mom comb your hair for you?”
I paused. “She fixed it. I did most of the original combing.”
She reached over and messed it up a little. The touch sent shivers right down to my feet.
“Too much combing. I like it like you haven’t slept in a week because you were writing a novel.”
I glanced at her. “How do you know I like to write?”
“Because you do it sometimes when no one is looking.” She smiled. “Or so you thought.”
This was the greatest conversation of my life. Clara and Max rejoined the group, but my arms didn’t stop tingling for a second. We stood there and talked until Clara pulled Raya away to the bathroom.
“How happy?” Max asked.
“Twelve.”
“I thought so.” He watched Clara disappear into the bathroom. “She wants to dance.”
“So dance.”
He looked at me. “I don’t like her.”
“She looks like Cinderella.”
“And she talks like the evil stepmother.”
I snorted. “So don’t marry her. Just dance with her and act like Prince Charming.”
“And if she wants to go out or something?”
“Disappear at midnight.”
He sighed and turned to the bathroom. “Yeah.”
“Buck up,” I said. “And I need to go to the bathroom too. I drank five pops before I came.”
“Why?” he asked, laughing.
“Nervous drinker,” I replied. “I’ll be back.”
I hurried off to the bathroom, practically gliding across the gym. Raya had talked to me and touched my hair. She knew I liked to write. She’d said she liked my hair messy.
My brain was so busy, it didn’t even worry about the lines of the floor. I stepped on the half-court line. I never step on the half-court line. It’s red and highly ominous.
I was almost to the bathroom when I saw Sara sitting at a table. Miss Lecky was beside her. Sara’s dark hair was curled, and she was wearing a green blouse and dress pants. She was just sitting there, her eyes glazed over while Miss Lecky texted. Maybe Sara’s parents thought it was good for her to get out.
We met eyes for a moment, but she didn’t say anything this time. She just watched me.
It was unnerving, and I felt her eyes on me all the way to the bathroom. But when I turned back, she was staring at nothing again, the bright lights playing tricks on her face. I wondered where her mind went when she stared.
I guess I took a long time. I was nervous, so it took me a while to pee, and then I fixed my hair for five minutes to try to make it look messy, which I know is ironic, but there are certain types of messy. When I was finally satisfied that I looked like an exhausted writer, I emerged from the bathroom.
I stopped.
Raya was on the dance floor with Taj. Obviously Ashley had succeeded in getting the two boys to pay attention to them, because she was dancing with Tom as well. That was one thing, but Raya was having fun. She was laughing and letting Taj put his arm around her back, and then they were dancing close and then doing something like the funky chicken, and then they were close again.
I’d never seen her laugh like that. When she laughed with me it was quiet, smart laughter. I’d thought that was her laugh. But this was different. It was fun and loud. I felt the heartache again. You’re not good enough. You messed up. My stomach started to hurt, my breathing didn’t feel right, my skin went cold. I looked for Max, but he was dancing with Clara.
I was alone.
I found my way to a table in the corner of the gym. There were bowls of chips on them all. I sat at a table by myself, and then I felt a Zap. I moved the chip bowl. Then I tapped my leg. Then I started to cross my legs. I moved the chip bowl again. The Zaps grew stronger.
You moved the chip bowl wrong. You’re going to feel like this forever. Raya is never going to like you because you’re crazy. You need to move the chip bowl.
My stomach hurt. My hands were cold. I wanted to run away.
You tapped wrong. Your stomach hurts because you are dying. Now your chest hurts. You are going to die if you don’t tap again. Now you need to go home. But you have to tap first. Not eight times. Not nine. Ten. No, that didn’t feel right. Back to one. No. Two. No. Three.
I felt the sweat forming on my brow. When I get into these Zap modes, it’s hard to think or feel or do anything but try to save myself from the fear. I stood up, sweat pouring down my face.
I wasn’t having fun anymore. I didn’t want to be there.
I started for the gym door. Sara was watching me again. Now she was interested.
I counted my steps. I avoided the lines. I skipped tables and didn’t make eye contact. My entire body was on fire and ice cold and I couldn’t breathe right. My chest hurt. My head hurt. I was dying.
“Daniel!” someone called.
I looked back, and Raya was walking toward me. I wanted to smile and say something clever, but I couldn’t.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I only kind of heard her. “Home,” I managed. “I don’t feel very good.”
I tried to get away, but she caught my arm. She looked concerned.
“You’re sweating.”
I pulled my arm away. “I know. The food or something.”
“You seemed fine—”
“It happened fast,” I said. She seemed so far away. I was disconnecting. The Great Space was here.
“Are you sure?” she said. “Why don’t you just stick around—”
“Sorry,” I replied, starting for the door. I was leaving her behind me. Raya Singh. But she was so far away anyway. I couldn’t feel anymore. I was passing the door when I saw the switch. Zap.
1. You will never escape the Great Space unless you switch it.
2. The Great Space is even worse than usual. I can’t feel. I can’t think. I’m drifting away. My chest hurts and I’m going to die. I want to be normal again. I want to go home.
3. Flick the switch, and you will feel better.
My rational brain tried to flick on again. I knew the light switch meant nothing. I could leave it and go home, and nothing would change. But then my rational brain started to fade again, and I couldn’t think about anything except that I was going to die. And I didn’t want to die. I had to fix this.
And then, to my horror, I flicked the switch. The lights came on, and everyone looked up. I didn’t really see them, but I saw Sara. She was smiling.
I flicked the lights off again. Everyone was staring at me.
Raya looked confused.
I ran out of the school. Literally ran. I didn’t stop until I was far from the school and Max wouldn’t be able to find me. I walked home in the darkness, my hands in my pockets, tears streaming down my face. I was still in the Great Space, but this time I could feel fear.
Real fear.
I had just flicked the lights in front of the entire school. I had lost my last bit of control.
My fear started to turn to anger. I didn’t want to go home and do the Routine. I didn’t want to spend three hours getting into bed. I just wanted to be like Max and Taj and the other kids.
I didn’t want to be crazy.
When I got home, I snuck inside. My dad was in the basement, and my mom was watching TV in her bedroom. The house was quiet. I slipped off my shoes, my cheeks still hot with tears. I was furious.
I wanted desperately to skip the Routine, but I couldn’t. I ended up walking back and forth to the bathroom for one hundred and forty-nine steps, shouting silent pleas and shaking and trying to go to bed before I turned back and did it again. When I heard my mom stirring, I finally made it to the bathroom, and I brushed my teeth until my gums were bleeding, and kept going until the toothpaste was red. My hands were shaking, but I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, I was going to die. I wasn’t going to wake up. I used two rolls of toilet paper and clogged the toilet, and I felt my face twisting and tears spilling as I used the plunger. I washed my hands until they were pink and it felt like the skin was peeling off. I heard more movement in my parents’ room and stopped, and then I hurried back to my room and flicked the lights. My face was sopping wet with sweat and tears. Sometimes I thought I didn’t want to wake up anyway, and then I got scared and I flicked the switch again. It took me hours. I cried the whole time, my body racked with pain, and I would scream out in silence and fall on my knees and sometimes think I couldn’t do it anymore. That it would be easier to be gone. But I was afraid of death. I was afraid of everything.
I did the whole Routine in perfect silence. When my dad went to bed, I turned the lights off and climbed into bed. He poked his head inside.
“How was the dance?” he asked.
“Okay,” I said. I had the blanket over my face. I couldn’t let him see me.
He hesitated. “I heard you walking around a bit. Everything all right?”
I was glad the blanket was covering my face. “Yeah. Sorry. Just . . . had a bit of a stomach thing. I feel fine now.”
“Good,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “Well, get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
When the bedroom door closed, I started again. I flicked the light switch until my hand was numb. I couldn’t fix it. The numbers were wrong. Everything was wrong.
Of course I could never date Raya. Not because I was the backup kicker or had toothpick arms.
I could never date her, because I was crazy. And I was afraid.
I lay in bed until my eyes grew heavy and the darkness took me.
CHAPTER 8
The mornings are usually my favorite time of the day. I feel fresh. The Great Space is usually gone, and for a few seconds I am too tired to think about Zaps. It’s almost peaceful. But today I woke up and wished for the sun to go away. I wasn’t ready to go back to school. I didn’t want to face the other kids after last night. It was Halloween, which I had almost forgotten. Some kids would be dressed up at school—maybe I could wear a mask. But they don’t let you wear masks to school. That would be too convenient.
I lay there for a while, thinking about my book. Today I wanted to wake up and be the only human on earth.
I wondered if a part of me had always wanted that.
After rolling out of bed, I pulled on a hoodie and some faded jeans, shoved my hands into my pockets, and went downstairs. It was already one of those mornings where it feels like you ate something rotten. It twists around in your gut like a pack of eels. And not the unagi kind.
Emma was waiting at the table, eating alone and reading the paper. She was the only nine-year-old I knew who read the paper. She put it down and flashed me a smile. She wasn’t dressed up either. She didn’t usually participate in what she called “commercial holidays.”
“How was it?” she asked eagerly.
“Okay,” I murmured, pouring some cereal.
She watched me until I sat down. “You’re lying. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you kiss Raya?”
“No.”
“Did you try to dance and humiliate yourself?”
I scowled. “I didn’t dance.”
“But you did humiliate yourself.”
I thought about that for a moment, and then dug into my cereal. “Maybe.”
“There’s a surprise,” Steve chimed in, shuffling into the kitchen. He grabbed a protein drink. “Did you try to dance?”
I put my spoon down. “Why does everyone assume that would humiliate me?”
Steve took a gulp and stared at me. “Was it to do with that girl?”
“Yes.”
He exchanged a knowing look with Emma. “She was with someone else.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “But I knew that before. I just didn’t . . . expect her to be so happy.”
Emma frowned. “Isn’t that the point of a dance?”
Steve took another drink, and then gave me a rare pat on the shoulder. “Buck up. No one likes a mope.”
With that, he disappeared upstairs, and I just sighed and looked at Emma.
“He should be a psychologist.”
• • •
Max hurried over as soon as I got into the yard. He looked concerned.
