The Eighth Gate

21 | Child's Play

The car was uncomfortably silent.

Mary occupied the front passenger seat, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared idly outside her window, watching as a blur of houses and buildings and lampposts and people flew by. Mason was in the driver’s seat, occasionally throwing her a glance whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice. Noah was in the backseat, sitting in between the two of them, his attention alternating between gazing out the windshield and eyeing Mary with a look of hesitation in his eyes.

The school day had ended, and the trio was on their way to meet up with Salazar at his trailer, where he would be conducting the memory seal ritual on Mary. Her stomach was flip-flopping with nerves; her anxiety made her palms sweaty and her body tremble all over. Her mind was all over the place; she couldn’t seem to focus on a single thought for too long, because then another idea would call for her attention, and she’d mull over that one instead.

She’d spent the entire school day like this, feeling nervous and dreading the moment when the bell would ring, signaling dismissal time. Her thoughts primarily bounced between the ritual and Noah. She couldn’t concentrate in class with the feeling of his lips against hers, with the image of him leaning in to kiss her whenever she closed her eyes. It gave her butterflies.

She had woken up this morning feeling even more confused than she had been before she had fallen asleep. Noah had been awkward and distant towards her, and in return Mary was hesitant and silent around him. She was not sure why he had kissed her, and she had too much going on at the moment to ask, because then she’d have to deal with whatever answer he gave, and she didn’t think she could handle it at the moment. Mary recalled the desperation in the way he worked his mouth against hers and tried to decipher what it could have meant. Could it be possible that Noah had feelings for Mary that extended way beyond that of friendship—feelings that awoke a few of her own? Because, looking back at it now, there was no doubting Mary had felt something deep stir inside her when their lips connected, something she had not felt in a long time.

But that just made things worse. Because Noah was dead.

Noah was dead, so why did any of it matter? Nothing could come of her feelings, and Mary suddenly felt angry at him for kissing her in the first place, for placing more stress and worry atop her shoulders for the sake of… what? She didn’t even know.

She was so confused.

Their friendship was far too strong to be ruined by something like a kiss, but Mary would have been lying if she said it hadn’t placed a strain on their relationship—one that had not ever been in place before. Mary could feel it whenever she locked eyes with Noah or whenever the two were alone together: a mild sense of discomfort that she despised because this wasn’t how you were supposed to feel around your best friend, one of the few people who usually made you feel at ease.

“Okay.” Mason’s irritated voice shook Mary from her thoughts. “What’s going on? You two are abnormally quiet, and I can practically feel the tension in the air.”

Mary locked eyes with Noah in the rearview mirror, a silent consensus running between them.

“Nothing,” Mary lied. What happened between her and Noah was none of Mason’s business. “I’m just nervous. We both are.”

Mason considered this, taking the time to eye Noah’s reflection on the rearview mirror when he was stopped at a red light.

“I still think you shouldn’t go,” Noah told Mary. “But you love doing the total opposite of what I think, so maybe I should tell you I think you should do the ritual.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “We already talked about this, Noah. I’m doing it. End of story.”

Mason shook his head. “As annoying as the kid is, I have to agree with him. There’s a lot of risks—complete amnesia being one of them.”