24. Mouth or Mouthful
Now
“Do you know what a narcissist is, Jacob?” Mr. Aschen asks.
“Someone who is obsessed with themselves, right?”
“Sort of. I mean it goes further than that. Narcissists do not understand the concept of other people. Through David’s eyes, he was the only real person living in the world.” Sometimes I would agree with that. “It means to David, you were all extensions of himself. If one of you let him down, it was like his own leg failing. On the other hand, he’d expect absolute devotion from each of you.
“And, narcissists cannot process shame or guilt. Any time a situation arises in which a narcissist could potentially be shamed, said narcissist will find some way around it. In this case, by taking it out on the rest of you. It’s classic behavior for, well, a cult leader: they need to feed off the egos of their followers to sustain themselves.”
“Maybe David had a lot to feel guilty about,” I say.
“Do you know about the fires, too?”
“I suspect. The detective told me.”
“I wasn’t going to bring this up,” Mr. Aschen says. “I should have known better than to try and pull one over on you. Look, it makes sense. If David felt some residual guilt over his earlier acts, it explains a lot of what happened later. For instance, when David trapped you in the detention hall in your freshman year—he tortured those poor people. And why? It’s simple, Jacob. He couldn’t handle feeling guilty about the houses he burned down—and whatever else he did we have no idea about—so he had to devalue human life. If David could make himself believe people didn’t really matter, then he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about what he did.”
I shake my head, as though my ears can dodge the words if I direct them away. “But, Steven was there pushing buttons—like he always does. If Steven hadn’t made such a big deal…” My hands lift into the air helplessly. “Just…listen.”
*
Senior Year, February
That night we sat and watched David’s trailer burn like an effigy to our collective childhoods. Kent still stood at the edge of the clearing, unwilling to rejoin the group. Cameron was with him, murmuring into his ear occasionally, rubbing his shoulder—generally looking comforting. As the inferno subsided into smoldering plastic and the fumes became too much for me, I stood and began dreading my return trip. It was less than a mile to the trailer park, but I’d have to stumble through the woods once more.
As I walked past, Cameron spoke: “Wait.” I turned and looked; a brilliant white light flashed in her palm. “Want to walk with us? You’ll eat less spider webs.”
I nodded. “Sure, thanks.” The three of us began drifting the opposite direction, toward the road; a longer route, but like Cameron said—less spider webs in my face, and less chance of twisting an ankle on uneven ground.
Kent remained silent; after the night’s events, I needed to clear the awkward air. “Are you really mad at me about not tagging you?”
Kent shook his head: “I…it’s embarrassing.” The towering teen’s voice resounded at an octave lower than mine. “Why do I even have to beg in the first place?”
“Maybe David is just looking out for you, in his own way,” Cameron noted. “Maybe your head isn’t in the right place to be playing Eureka.”
“But that’s what you want me to do!” Kent exclaimed in frustration. I got the feeling this was a long-standing argument between them. “I just want you to be proud of me.” Kent lowered his voice when Cameron tugged at the black sleeve of his corny howling-wolves shirt.
“I am proud of you, Kent,” Cameron said. “You’re like a big brother to me.”
I cleared my throat, annoyed at being forced into their private conversation, and instead focused on the circle of light illuminating the path before us.
“I don’t want to be a brother,” Kent whispered, as though I might not hear it despite standing right next to him. “Can’t we talk about this alone?”
“Sure,” I offered. “I’ll stand right here until the sun comes up—don’t mind me.”
“Don’t be stupid. You can walk with us; we aren’t going to leave you out here.” Cameron waggled the flashlight back and forth to demonstrate where out here was. “Kent, we talked about this. You know I like David.”
This was news to me. “David?” the name flew from my mouth before I could stop it.
“Well, he doesn’t believe in relationships yet, but yeah. We’ve been talking about it. Nothing official, so far.” Cameron stated matter-of-factly.
I wanted to blurt questions about Emily and David’s relationship, but kept quiet. Who wasn’t David sleeping with?
“Well if he doesn’t believe in relationships, you can’t ever really get together, can you?” Kent asked helplessly.
“So I should just give up?” she asked. “But, Kent—a lot can happen in the future.”
“Well, I’m not giving up either. Is going to prom with me anywhere in that future?” Kent asked. “I swear, Cameron, if you give me one chance, one night, then you would change your mind. I know it.”
Watching Kent beg made me want to withdraw into my own skeleton until I was just a spinal column resting on the ground.
“Maybe,” Cameron sighed. We stopped at her car. “Maybe so. You never know what’s going to happen with Eureka, right?”
She sat down in the old red sedan and turned the key; headlights destroyed the darkness around us. She handed me her flashlight for the rest of my trip home. “Night, guys.”
Kent walked to his truck, which was parked nearby.
“Can I get a lift?” I asked.
“Will you tag me?”
I didn’t think it was a good idea. As unstable as Kent came across, what would he do? Run straight to Cameron and propose? “Maybe later,” I stalled.
“Then, fuck off.”
I sighed and began my walk home. My first day of school was tomorrow, and I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight.
School turned out to be especially frustrating because everyone else was used to their classes, and I was still finding mine. I didn’t care, though. I only needed to last four more months, and then none of high school would ever matter again.
My first two periods passed without incident. I killed time by actually taking notes, which was a first for me. My third period, Advanced American History, was a minefield. Nora was in the class, as were Kent and Cameron
I didn’t hesitate to pick a seat right next to Nora. I’d determined the night before: she still had feelings for me, but hated herself for having them. It would just take me at my most charming to get Nora over that hatred.
The teacher launched into a discussion of the Battle of Chesapeake Bay. As she lectured, I listened with one ear while devoting the rest of my faculties to observing Nora. Her inquisitive, deep brown eyes seemed to trap all light entering them, as though she could learn by simply absorbing the information in those dark pools.
Nora seemed to be adjusting well to her new body. She’d lost even more weight, if anything. She actually looked, well, pretty. Brunette hair curled at the tips of her shoulders, a little bit of makeup…she wasn’t glamorous by any means. More like glamour’s younger sister, who was never let out of the house. Everything subtle and downplayed, blue jeans and a cotton jacket, soft and smart and accessible.
At the end of the period, the teacher passed around a short quiz about her lecture. Since the class was almost over, a buzz of talking and activity hummed around the room, which the teacher made no attempt to quell.
I made it through most of the quiz without issue, but was stumped by a question regarding the name of a coast where a naval battle took place. I took this as an opportunity to open communication with Nora. “Hey, could you give me a hint about this one, or tell me where to look, maybe? Please?” I asked, trying to sound calm as sudden nervous electricity nearly shocked the pen out of my hand.
Nora turned to look at me, and I knew I’d made a mistake. Her expression was bitter. “I believe it happened in the water. You know, where the drowning is.” She slammed her notebook closed, ripped out her answers to the test, and crammed her things into her backpack.
Stupid. I cursed myself and guessed the other answers, turning in the quiz just before the bell rang.
I rushed out into the hallway and caught Nora, planning to use my one other opening line. “Hey, sorry about that. I should have known the answer.”
Nora ignored me.
“But hey, thank you so much for coming to get me. It saved—” I didn’t have time to say “Christmas” because a powerful shove sent me flying into the lockers so hard my feet left the ground. Nora chuckled, but didn’t miss a beat and kept walking.
As I recovered, my attacker walked in the opposite direction. Kent.