Kook King

Forever Doesn't Last

When I walk into work the next morning, the first thing I notice is a dirty, blonde-haired girl I've never talked to before staring at me. She's decked out in expensive, silver jewelry and a pretty, long summer dress. Even when I make eye contact, she doesn't look away. In fact, she smirks. I'm not used to kooks even giving me a first glance, so I shoot her an irritated look. She smiles wider and turns away, picking up her glass and taking a sip. That was weird, I think, moving behind the counter.

I greet JJ, who carries a half-empty pitcher of ice water across the floor and waves at me in return. I watch as he pours water into a couple's glasses then starts towards me. "Hey." He nods his chin.

"Hey. How's the head?" I ask him.

"Uh, it's alright."

Last night, JJ invited me to some party over in Figure 8, but I declined. Instead, I stayed in and watched Monsters Inc. by myself with a blanket draped over my legs. It was nice to have some time to myself since my parents went out for a late-night anniversary dinner. They didn't come home until eleven at night, giggling and clumsy.

I assume JJ went to the party and is probably suffering from a pretty decent hangover, but when I ask him if he went, he says, "Nah. I changed my mind."

"Why?"

His bottom lip sticks out. "I didn't wanna go if you didn't go."

I frown, stopping what I'm doing. "JJ... You should have gone if you wanted to go. Don't let me stop you."

He shrugs. "Eh. It wouldn't have been the same. You know?" He looks up at me.

I nod. "Yeah."

Things get a little weirder at work. About an hour later, while I'm cleaning up a mess from a broken glass, a group of kook guys breeze past me and one of them says, "Too bad it didn't work out, huh?"

I turn my head to see them all looking back at me, giggling behind their hands like a bunch of middle schoolers.

"That was so weird," I say to JJ when we meet up behind the counter.

He's busy scooping ice cubes into a short glass. "What was weird?" When he looks up, I can still see faint bruises on his cheekbone and the small cut on his lip from where Rafe punched him. I look back down.

"People who usually just walk right past me keep staring at me. All morning. Is there something weird about my appearance?" I twirl around for JJ.

He seems in a daze when he shakes his head. "No. You look perfect."

We both freeze, staring at each other. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear while JJ clears his throat and looks away. "Anyway," I say, taking a deep breath. "Maybe it's all just in my head." But I can't shake the feeling that something is... off.

Even though things have been shaky with Rafe since I confronted him about following me and beating up JJ, I bike to his house as soon as I get out of work. I don't know what's wrong with me. He's like a magnet that I'm just drawn to, no matter what. Rafe doesn't pick me up because I don't tell him I'm coming over. It'll be a surprise. Maybe, if things go well today, we can go back to normal. Somewhat.

But it's strange. As I dump my bike by the side of his house and walk to the back door, that uneasy feeling from before grows stronger. Is it the silence? Is it the lack of cars in the driveway? That should make me feel less anxious. That means that Ward and Rose still aren't home. Rafe's motorcycle is in the driveway, so at least I know he is.

"Rafe?" I shout, stepping inside. The light from the setting sun pours in through the front windows over the polished, wood flooring. There's a beautiful bouquet of white roses in a glass vase on the table in the foyer. I watch as dust settles down in the patch of sunlight, floating swiftly to the floor. "Rafe?" I try again.