INTERIM · BEN PARISH | ✓

Seven

MY EYES FLY open as I feel someone tap my shoulder. "What. Do you want."

"Why'd you run off yesterday?"

I sit up quickly and after recovering for a second, squint at Zombie."What time is it?"

"I'll tell you when you answer my question, Red."

I switch sides and ask, "Scarecrow, what time is it?"

"4:45," he yawns out and stretches. His arms extend to Zombie's face, which he accidentally punches. Or maybe not so accidentally.

Zombie rubs his sore cheek. "Now that you know your oh-so-important question, can you tell me now?"

"Him. Let's consider the question: why did I run off yesterday? Oh that's right, I offered help and you took it, but you already had lessons from Ringer. Without telling me. So this time, you tell me exactly why I ran off."

"But Ringer-"

I'm already closing my eyes by the time he gets to her name.

•••

All of next week, my brain is filled with commands and orders and keeping track of all our failures.

Literally. All I say are commands like, "Get back up through the obstacle course, Barrel, don't roll around m your stupid namesake!" or "12:50 on the two mile runs? All of you can do better!" and how could I forget, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Yelling gets tiring and stressful at some point.

At least it pays off. We're first in obstacle course and air raid drills. We're second in other duties as assigned. First is (you guessed it) squad 53.

At night on Saturday, Stiletto is talking with Barrel, but it's a heated conversation. I'm not sure what they're saying. At the same time, I've got a mystery note in my back pocket that I've been dying to read. It tells me not to open until five days from now.

"Do my hair," Dot says, plopping down on the floor in front of me as I examine my plant at the foot of my bed.

I'd forgotten his long, blond hair made him look like a male Rapunzel. "Um, Dot, I'm not an expert on that stuff, plus you're a dude."

He sighs, exasperated. "You're so sexist. Brush and tie it into a ponytail, like yours is in."

"Sorry. Um, you've never asked me to do something as... sudden as that."

He keeps staring like he's judging me. His eyes are narrowed into slits.

"I'm squad leader, not a hair stylist."

"I could always tell the squads about the little 'Ringer-Zombie-you' accident that occurred on Wednesday. Embarrassing to dress up for him, isn't it?"

Blackmail now? "Dang it. I taught you well," I chew my bottom lip. I don't know whether to be proud or annoyed. I end up gathering his hair and brushing.

As I continue brushing, Stiletto and Barrel continue to argue, louder and louder each minute. I still can't make out what their saying, partially because Dot is humming to himself and both of them are speaking over each other at this point.

"This is so relaxing," Dot says. Scarecrow laughs but he still keeps to himself when I turn around.

"Which one, me doing your hair or Stiletto and Barrel fighting?"

Dot says nothing at my remark. Maybe it's both.

Stiletto and Barrel are still at it. Barrel yanks her towards him, and her jumpsuit tears down from her neck to her stomach. She shrieks and slaps him. "Don't touch me!"