Bigger Than Life

trois || héros

When I first tell Danielle about Nixon she, naturally, doesn't believe me. I don't really blame her, if I'm being honest. I don't think I would have believed the story either if it were coming from her. When she's finally convinced that I'm not making up some absurd story, though, she doesn't hesitate to interrogate me like no tomorrow.

"Wait, so he didn't tell you where he went? No one has seen him for, like, three weeks."

"I realize, Danielle," I groan, rolling over on my bed to hug my body pillow. "I asked him where he's been and he just laughed and was like," I drop my voice ridiculously low to imitate him, "Where haven't I been? And in my head I was like 'the fuck, dude?' but I couldn't say that out loud because it would have been really weird and he wasn't answering any of my questions anyway and it would have just made things tense-"

"Chantelle, this is honestly crazy. You've never even talked to him before! Why was he outside your door?"

"For a job..."

"I know, but it's still insane." Danielle sighs, and I can almost imagine her rubbing her temples like she does when she's trying to figure something out, like all of this were actually hurting her head. "Are you going to give it to him?"

"I don't know, I have to talk to my dad. Should I....?"

"It's up to you... Wouldn't it be a little awkward to work with him? Wouldn't you have to be the one to train him?"

"I guess." I sit up, putting the pillow in my lap and picking on a loose thread. "But he looked like he really needed the job, it'd be a bitch move for me to say no without even talking to my dad."

Danielle is quiet for a moment before she asks, her voice slow as if she's not really sure about what she's about to say. "Did he seem like... okay?"

I think about it. Did Nixon seem okay? I mean, he was pretty happy- he almost seemed like the Nixon I knew from freshman and sophomore year. He wasn't moody or punching lockers like the Nixon people began to enjoy. But he still wasn't... exactly as I remembered him. Nixon might've been laughing and smiling, but he was still closed off. There was something he was obviously hiding, but knowing Nixon, there's too many possibilities as to who he could have been with and what he could've been doing that it's simply a headache to try and figure out.

"He was fine, I guess. Not punching lockers or anything."

Danielle laughs lightly at my reference to that day, but it's full of tension. I still remember that day clearly- Danielle and I had both been scared out of our wits. Everyone had. Nixon was just known to take everything thrown at him with a smile and calm words. Sometimes those words cut like a knife, they were sharp and cold and he knew how to manipulate them just how he needed to if he really wanted to, but they were still always calm. I guess that's the thing about Nixon- he can get close to anyone, and get their deepest, darkest secrets out of them. And in the end, if need be, he can use them against them.

I open my mouth to say something when suddenly, I hear the sound of the garage door opening. I curse, jumping to my feet, saying goodbye to Danielle and pocketing my phone. My heart rate begins to speed up for reasons I'm not even too sure of- all I know is that if my dad is home, I have to ask him about whether or not Nixon can get a job at our café. And depending on my dad's reaction, things can get... interesting, if that's the right word.

I don't know what to think. I really don't.

x

My dad can tell there's something wrong the second I begin to trail after him as he grabs dinner, my mouth opening and closing when I work up the courage to ask the question and as soon as I feel the words getting ready to leave my mouth, I shut down again. Eventually, after five minutes of this, my dad drops his fork on the kitchen island- just across of where Nixon had been sitting- and looks up at me. "Okay, kiddo. What'd you do?"