Author: Charlie Farrow

10 Months Before Impact Day

My heart was pounding as we stood on the front porch of Rachel’s house, her hand wrapped firmly in mine. It was obvious she was just as nervous as I was, probably a whole lot more. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and kissed her gently on the cheek. She took a deep breath, let go of my hand, and pushed open the front door.

Rachel’s mother was waiting for us, sitting facing the front door like a predator in wait. Rachel stiffened when she saw her, but pushed through it, stepping aside to let me inside beside her. I felt her mother’s glare shift over to me, her eyes running up and down my body, judging me.

She was a surprisingly thin woman, given how much she drank and how little else she did. She looked almost frail, with sunken eyes and slightly gaunt skin. Her hair was thin and messy, the same dark colour as Rachel’s but with none of the same lustre or shape. Her face was a perpetual sneer, and I was having a hard time picturing any other emotion on it.

As soon as Rachel shut the door, the woman almost shouted her questions.

“Where have you been? And who’s this?” she demanded, turning her nose up at me.

“Sorry, Mum,” Rachel said meekly. “This is Charlie. We were hanging out.”

“You know you’re to come straight home after school. And you can’t just bring a friend home with you, especially not at this time of night,” she scolded. It wasn’t even that late, I thought, but didn’t say anything.

“She’s… She’s not a friend, Mum,” Rachel said, wavering for only a second.

“What? Who is she, then?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Rachel said with equal parts fear and pride. Her mother looked stunned, then furious.

“No, she isn’t,” she said defiantly, shaking her head.

“Mum, you can’t—” Rachel began, but her mother cut her off.

“Don’t you talk back to me. And don’t you dare lie to me, either.”

“Mum, I’m not lying,” Rachel tried again. “Charlie and I—”

“Are too young to know what you’re doing,” she said. I felt Rachel’s hand in mine, and I squeezed it. It was all I could think to do. “And you, get your filthy hands off my daughter!”

“Mum!” Rachel shouted.

“I’m not letting go,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You can’t intimidate me.”

“How dare you,” she spat. “In my house, in front of my daughter.”

“Mum, please,” Rachel pleaded.

“No. This is not okay,” her mother said viciously. “I raised you better than this, you ungrateful—”

“Shut up!” I yelled. Rachel pulled on my arm, shaking her head.

“Charlie, don’t.”

“You’re just going to let her talk to you like that?” I asked, stupefied.

“Yes, I am. She needs to say how she feels. Shutting her up won’t change anything,” Rachel said evenly.

“You, you nasty little dyke. Get the hell out of my house, and don’t you ever come here again,” her mother said, practically hissing. “And stay away from my daughter.”

“No, Mum. You can’t do this,” Rachel said, on the verge of tears. Not stepping in was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I knew Rachel would never forgive me. She had to deal with this in her own way, and I knew it.

“So long as you’re living under my roof, you’ll do what I tell you,” her mother barked.

“I do nothing but what you tell me!” Rachel cried. “I have lived by your bullshit rules without ever once complaining, and I do everything for you!”

“Don’t you use that language with me,” her mother said, shrinking back a little.

“Fuck you,” Rachel said meekly. Then, with more confidence, “Fuck you. I’ve put up with your drunken tirades, your shitty boyfriends and your fucked up rules for long enough.”

That time, the woman actually did hiss. Then she bristled, spreading herself out like a frightened animal.

“How dare you. I have raised you on my own for fifteen years. I have sacrificed everything for you.”

“You didn’t raise me, you tolerated me,” Rachel shot back, her confidence growing. “We tolerated each other. We are not a family.”

I knew how much it hurt her to say that. I knew that she didn’t even believe it, not really, but she wanted more than anything to hurt her mother.

“I am the only family you have,” her mother said.

“I wish I didn’t even have you,” Rachel snapped.

“Rachel!”

“No, fuck you,” she said again. I’d never heard her swear so much in one conversation. If you could call this a conversation. “I wish you were dead, you spiteful old hag!”

Rachel was shaking, tears running down her face. I squeezed her hand again, and with my other hand, rubbed her back, instinctively wanting to calm her down.

“Okay Rachel, just remember to breathe, okay?” I whispered, and she nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Rachel’s mum shrieked.

“Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that!” Rachel shouted back.

“She is not your girlfriend, you’re just confused, and that’s why you’re saying these things—”

“I am not confused!” Rachel bellowed, loud enough for the neighbours to hear. “I love her.”

Her declaration surprised me, though not as much as the voracity with which she said it. Her hand was still in mine, and she squeezed me tightly even as the rest of her body trembled.

“I don’t believe you,” her mother said, shaking her head.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about anything you say,” Rachel told her, still shaking.

“And what about you, girl?” her mother asked, addressing me. “Do you love her, too?”

I felt like a deer in the headlights. Why was she trying to drag me back into things? How was I supposed to stay quiet when she did?

“You’re talking to me now?” I asked, avoiding the question.

“Leave her out of this,” Rachel said coldly.

“Answer the question,” her mum said, ignoring her.

“Yes, I love her,” I said, feeling it more strongly than ever before. I did love Rachel, and I would do anything to protect her.

Her mother shook her head, a look of defeat on her face. She looked like she was on the verge of tears too, though I didn’t exactly have a lot of sympathy for her.

“Then there is nothing more I can do for either of you,” she said wearily. “Charlie, go home. Rachel, go to bed. I will decide how best to deal with this in the morning.”

With that, she walked out of the room. Rachel looked like she was going to say something, but held her tongue. Once we were alone, she fell into me, burrowing into my chest and sobbing. I held her against me, wrapping my arms around her, trying to shield her from anything else that might hurt her, and just let her cry.

After a while, the crying began to calm down, and we just stood there, holding each other. When she stopped trembling, I rubbed her back.

“Hey, it’s okay. You did your best.”

“Why does she have to be like that?” Rachel asked, her voice hoarse.

“I don’t know. People aren’t usually that simple. There are probably a lot of complicated reasons why she is the way she is,” I told her. Personally, I would have preferred to just call the woman a horrid bitch and be done with it, but I knew that wasn’t what Rachel needed.

“Why do you have to be so rational about it?” she asked, sniffing.

“Because otherwise I would just want to punch her in the face,” I answered, semi-seriously. Rachel laughed softly.

“Heh. Thank you for being there for me,” she said, hugging me tightly.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“I’m impressed you lasted as long as you did,” she said, laughing again.

“I shouldn’t have said anything at all,” I groaned, remembering telling her mother to shut up. Not a great first impression.

“I’m glad you did,” Rachel said warmly.

“Really?”

“It was nice to hear, whether or not it was true,” she said softly. I was confused. What was she talking about?

“What are you talking about?”

“You… You said you loved me,” she said timidly, blushing and burying her face again.

“I do love you,” I said, still surprised.

“Heh, idiot.”

“You said it first,” I countered, holding her against me.

“Not exactly how I thought it would come out,” she said a little morose.

“Kind of suits us, though,” I said.

“Yeah…”

“You know, you don’t have to stay here,” I said, hopefully. “You can stay with me, I’m sure Mark wouldn’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay. This is my battle to fight, and I’m going to fight it. I’ll make her understand eventually. I can’t just leave things like this.”

I nodded, disappointed. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I understood why she did. All I could do was support her.

“Well, I am always here if you need me, okay?”

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said, hugging me again. “Now, go home before she comes back to yell at us again, okay?”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” I asked.

“No, but I’ll survive,” she said, brutally honest. It hurt to hear, but I was still glad for it. “Just like you.”

“I love you, Rachel,” I told her, squeezing her into me.

“I love you too, Charlie,” she whispered back.

 

Next Week: I’ll Try Not To Give You A Reason To Scream

10 Months Before Impact Day

Despite my reservations, I was practically bubbling with excitement by the time I arrived at the front gate of Rachel’s school the next day. Unlike me, she attended the local public school, one which did not have the most stellar reputation. I’d never actually been there, but I’d heard about it more than once, usually from news stories about delinquent kids.

As I leaned against the stone wall, arms folded across my chest, and watched the students leave for the day. I definitely got the impression that the reputation wasn’t unearned. Half the kids looked like they would stab you for looking at them the wrong way, and the other half looked like recreational drug use was just another class that they took. I got more than a few dirty looks, standing there in my private school uniform, but I did my best to ignore them. I wasn’t intimidated, I just didn’t want to deal with the attention.

I saw Rachel before she saw me, weaving in and out of the crowd of students, hair tied up in a ponytail, schoolbag slung over one shoulder. She caught sight of me and beamed, heading straight for me.

As she burst out of the stream of students, I couldn’t help staring at her. It was the first time I’d seen her in her uniform, and, embarrassing as it was, I had to admit it was having an effect on me. The short, pleated skirt, the slightly too small shirt, the loose tie, the knee-high socks…

Snap out of it, Charlie, I scolded myself. What kind of a pervert finds a school uniform attractive, anyway? I mean, we were the same age, but still, it felt wrong.

“Hey,” I said, trying to act like everything was completely normal, and my brain wasn’t doing backflips.

“Oh. Um, hey,” she said, a little awkwardly. She seemed distracted, and I wondered if I should have met her somewhere less obvious.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I just… haven’t seen you in your school uniform before,” she said, biting her lip cutely again. I could feel my cheeks getting hot.

“Pervert,” I said, as if I wasn’t every bit as guilty of it as she was.

“No seriously, I think I understand the fetish now,” she said, and my face was threatening to overheat.

“You know people are staring, right?” I pointed out. We had drawn a small crowd, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Was it my uniform? Were we flirting too obviously?

“Well, let’s go somewhere nobody can see us, then,” she said, with a wicked smile on her face.

She grabbed my hand, and dragged me away from the school, tugging me around a corner. As soon as we were out of sight, she pressed her hands against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me.

“You’re unusually bold today,” I said, still blushing as fiercely as ever, and very deliberately not meeting her gaze.

I felt her fingers beneath my chin, as she gently guided my face back towards hers. Then she planted her lips on mine, kissing me enthusiastically.

“I’m not an idiot. There are going to be consequences for today,” she said, when she pulled away, her own face a little red. “I just want to make the most of it.”

She took me by the hand again, weaving her fingers through mine, and led me further away from her school. We walked, hand in hand, until we reached a bus stop. An older, straight couple waiting there gave us a funny look, and we moved away from each other a little.

“So, where are we going?” I asked, when the bus arrived, and she shepherded me on board.

“To a gun range, obviously,” she replied, sliding along the seat to sit as close to me as was physically possible. She rested her backpack on her lap, and partially on mine, and I felt her grab my hand underneath it. I squeezed it tightly.

“Under eighteens are allowed with adult supervision,” she said confidently. “I called up and asked. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

“Hey, that credit was for calling me,” I objected jokingly.

“I traded the time I could have spent calling you for time we can spend together in person,” she said, sticking her tongue out again.

“At a shooting range. You’re a true romantic,” I teased.

“We’re a dying breed,” she said, laughing.

We had to walk for a bit from the bus stop, but it was a fairly sparsely populated area, so we took advantage of the quiet to walk hand in hand again. Just feeling the warmth of her hand in mine made my heart beat a little faster, while at the same time soothing me. I never wanted to let go of her.

When we arrived at the shooting range, Rachel went up to the person behind the counter, beamed at him, introduced herself, and less than a minute later, the two of us were walking down an empty corridor, holding a pistol and a box of bullets. She led me into a large room with concrete walls, and several targets scattered about. I was disappointed that none of them were human-shaped.

“This doesn’t exactly feel like adult supervision,” I said as she closed the door behind us.

“I told you it would be fine.”

“So how do you know how to shoot, anyway?” I asked.

“I came here a few times with one of my mum’s old boyfriends,” she explained casually.

“As you do.”

“Alright, so here’s the thing you need to remember,” she said, passing the pistol to me, taking care not to point it at either of us. She took my fingers and placed them in all the right places, then continued. “Guns like this aren’t nearly as accurate as they are in video games. You’re going to want to be fairly close, and you just need to hit centre mass. Physics will take care of the rest.”

She gestured to the nearest target, and guided my arms and legs into the appropriate position, talking me through a few more basics as she did. Then she slid a pair of earmuffs over my ears, and did the same for herself. Satisfied with my pose, she stepped away, giving me ample room. I had been hoping for a romantic grip from behind, but that didn’t actually seem very practical once I had the gun in my hand.

I held the position Rachel had instructed, made sure the safety of the pistol wasn’t on, focussed on the target, and pulled the trigger. The gun let out a deafening bang, even through the earmuffs, and recoiled fiercely in my hand. I missed the target entirely, taken completely by surprise by the force of the weapon in my hand.

I straightened up and tried again, more prepared for the shot the second time around. I braced the appropriate parts of my body, and pulled the trigger again, and actually managed to hit the target. Well, the edge of it, anyway. Still, I gave a little cheer, and looked back over at Rachel, who gave an encouraging grin.

We spent a couple of hours doing that. Whenever I finished a clip, we took our earmuffs off, and she talked me through what I was doing right, and what I wasn’t. She made me reload the pistol every time, pushing me to do it faster and faster, and after going through several boxes of bullets, I found I could hit the target fairly consistently. My arms were also very sore, and I had a bit of a headache.

Rachel handed the gun and earmuffs back, and we walked out with our arms linked, which earned us a warm smile from the guy behind the counter. We walked back to the bus stop, and realised we were going to have to wait a little while. We sat down together, and Rachel rested her head on my shoulder.

“That was surprisingly fun,” I told her, my own head resting gently against hers.

“Right? You’ll probably still want to practice, but I think you’re off to a good start,” she encouraged me, and I could feel her warm smile even without seeing her face.

“So long as I don’t get caught with the guns,” I mused.

“Charlie, at this point you have a whole arsenal on you when you go out. The guns aren’t going to make that big of a difference,” she laughed.

“I need to think of a plan in case I do get arrested,” I realised, suddenly serious. I hadn’t even considered the possibility before then.

“My suggestion would be, don’t,” Rachel offered, unhelpfully.

“Not one of your more standout tips, but I’ll take it under advisement,” I told her dryly. In response, she twisted her neck until her face was pointing towards mine, and kissed me again. I immediately turned bright red. “What was that for?”

“Because I wanted to,” she said simply, snuggling back into my shoulder.

“Oh. Okay then,” I said, trying to quieten the butterflies in my stomach.

Rachel sighed loudly, stretching her legs out. I did my best not to stare, and but failed spectacularly. She punched my thigh gently.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said softly.

“I don’t want you to go home either, but the later you leave it, the worse it’ll be,” I told her, wishing I could have just asked her to run away with me. It was a stupid idea that wouldn’t ever work, but it was all I wanted in that moment.

“I know…”

All of a sudden, she pulled away from me, leaving her hand on my leg. I blushed as she looked up at me, a pleading look on her face.

“Hey, will you come home with me?” she asked. She looked so desperate, not to mention irresistibly adorable, it took all of my strength not to give in to her then and there.

“I don’t think I’ll have much luck sneaking past your mum tonight,” I said, trying to be the pragmatic one for once. “She’s going to be on the warpath.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I want you there,” Rachel said, surprising me. Suddenly, I realised what she was actually asking.

“Oh. Are you sure?” I asked, trying to play out the scenario in my head.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?” she asked in response, and I realised just how unsure she was. She was scared. I’d never seen her scared before.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “You know your mum better than I do. But if you want me there, I will definitely be there for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. I tried not to think about the feeling of her chest pressing into mine.

“I can’t promise I won’t punch her, though,” I added quietly.

“Charlie…”

“Alright, alright,” I said. “Boss fight time. Let’s do this.”

 

Next Week: We Are Not A Family

Ten Months Before Impact Day

I arrived at Rachel’s house a little after 2am, not quite as careful as usual given how late it was. The chances of her mother still being awake were so slim it was almost not worth considering, but the consequences were serious enough that I wasn’t willing to be entirely reckless.

I crept up to the back door, gently pressing down on the handle so it wouldn’t make a noise. It slid down barely a centimetre before stopping, and refusing to move any further. I tried again, surprised. It’s locked? The back door was never locked; Rachel made sure of it.

Not willing to give up, I went around the side of the house to Rachel’s bedroom window. It didn’t open up far enough for me to get in that way, but at least I’d be able to talk to her.

I rapped lightly on the window, waited a few seconds, then rapped again. The curtains inside were tossed sluggishly aside, and Rachel’s half-asleep face greeted me, thoroughly unimpressed. When she realised it was me, she brightened a little, but she still looked adorably sleepy.

She slid the window open as far as it would go, which wasn’t very far, and beamed at me, brushing her wavy hair out of her face.

“Charlie?”

“The door is locked,” I whispered.

“I know. Mum locked it,” she said apologetically.

“Because of the other night?”

“Yeah.”

Well, you did kind of drug her…

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling a little responsible. She’d only done it to help me, and I couldn’t even imagine living under her mum’s draconian rule.

“Nah, it was my fault,” she said calmly. “But, uh, I’m not really sure what to do about it.”

“Kind of hard to come back from that, I guess.” I was sympathetic, but also a little annoyed. It was already hard enough to spend time with her…

“She’ll forget sooner or later,” Rachel said reassuringly. “Drinking tends to have that effect.”

“What do we do until then?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You make a pretty cute damsel, at least,” I teased her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Maybe you can tunnel your way out with a spoon.”

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, glancing back over her shoulder at her bedroom door. I placed my hand on the open part of the windowsill, and she rested hers on top of it.

“I hate this,” she said miserably.

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry,” I said, feeling bad for her guilt. “I just wish things could be better for you.”

“What about you?” she asked, taking me by surprise.

“What do you mean?”

She looked away, but her fingers dug into the top of my hand. When she looked back, I could see reluctance in her eyes.

“I hate to even bring this up, but… Charlie, you tried to kill yourself, remember?”

“Are you still worried about that?” I asked, not sure how to react. My life had changed so much, it almost felt like that had happened to a different person. Seeing the look on her face, it only dawned on me then that it wasn’t the same for her.

How would I react if she’d told me the same thing?

“Well, I’m not worried about you killing yourself, obviously,” she said, trying to force humour into her voice. “But I am worried you aren’t happy.”

“Do I seem unhappy to you?”

“No,” she said, “but you didn’t before, either.”

That hit me hard.

“Trust me, I’m happier now than I’ve ever been,” I told her. It was the truth, and I always felt it the strongest when I was with her. Even in that moment, on opposite sides of the window, I felt happier to be with her than anything else could have made me.

“Really?”

“I promise.”

“I’m really glad,” she said, smiling peacefully. Once again, the fact that she just believed me meant so much.

“I kinda just want to go kick your front door in,” I said. She smirked, a wistful expression on her face.

“You’d only get me in more trouble, but it is a very romantic thought.”

Instead, we just sat there, connected through our hands, trying to pretend that was enough for us. As happy as I was to be with her, I didn’t want this to be the only way we could spend time together. I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

“I want to get you a phone,” I said suddenly, as the idea rushed into my head.

“How?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I could buy some cheap prepaid thing, and then at least I could call you.”

“And where are you gonna get the money?” she asked. “You don’t work.” As grateful as I was for her common sense, that wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll talk to Mark about it,” I said, considering it for the first time. I didn’t like to lean on him, or anyone else, but for Rachel’s sake…

“You sure that’s a good idea?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“No, but… Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Would you mind if I at least tried?” I asked, not wanting to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

“I guess not,” she said.

“You’re allowed to say no,” I told her. “Or yes, or whatever. You’re allowed to mind.”

“I trust you,” she said, her dark eyes shimmering in the starlight. “And you’re right, it’s not like things could really get much worse.”

“Let’s hope not,” I said.

 

Next Week: This Definitely Will Not Be Fun For You

Eleven Months Before Impact Day

Half an hour later, we were crouched down behind some bushes off the side of the road, and I wasn’t any closer to knowing what she had planned. I didn’t even know where we were.

“Okay, where is this?” I asked.

“Well, I was thinking about your whole night-time vigilante thing, and I know that you can’t die or anything, but you’re not exactly Wolverine, right?”

“No, definitely not,” I said. “I heal way slower, and my bones are definitely not unbreakable.”

“Right. So I thought you probably need a few tools to make life a little easier for you.”

Well, that was unexpected. So tonight was about helping me with that? That was… surprisingly sweet of her.

“Like what?”

“Well for starters, a bulletproof vest,” she said, and I winced. I had definitely not enjoyed being shot. “Also some crowd control gear, since I know you don’t want to kill anyone you don’t have to.”

It felt weird, having someone be supportive of what I realised was a fairly ridiculous idea. It was a good kind of weird though, kind of like… the antithesis of loneliness?

“And we’re gonna get that here?” I asked, still not entirely sure where here was.

“Well, not here here. It’s actually across the road.”

I turned slightly, looking over my shoulder at the large, well-lit building across the road. It was a storage facility, where people rented lockable spaces to keep their junk in.

“So what are we doing here?” I asked. “Also, um, how are we going to get any of the stuff that’s in there?”

I also wanted to ask why she thought we’d find what we were looking for in a storage facility, but I assumed she had a reason for it. She was too practical to just hope for a random chance.

“We’re… kind of going to steal it,” she said quietly.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” I told her. Stealing wasn’t exactly the shining start I wanted for my anti-crime career.

“Hear me out,” she pleaded. “Across the road, in that storage facility, a dirty cop has been stockpiling his own little collection, probably to sell it illegally later.”

“How on earth did you find that out?”

“Because the guy was one of my mum’s boyfriends for a while, and I always do a little digging on the ones that stick around more than a week.”

Boy, that was a sobering reminder of just how unstable her life was. Even still, all she was thinking about was how to help me. I felt incredibly lucky, and just a little mad.

“Damn,” I said, not entirely sure what else I could have added.

“Hey, it came in handy this time,” she said brightly. “So, guilt-free, right? This stuff’s better in your hands than not being used.”

She did have a point. She also knew exactly what to say to reassure me, and I wasn’t yet sure if that was something to be happy about, or worried.

“I don’t suppose your plan extends to us actually getting our hands on this stuff, does it?” I asked, looking over at the building again. “These places aren’t exactly light on security.”

“I have a few ideas,” she said, undeterred.

“Oh dear…”

“So, the real problem we have,” she said, excited, “is the security cameras. Believe it or not, they’re all being watched by one guy. Or girl, I guess. There are a few guards on patrol, but they’re easy to avoid. The only problem is if the camera guy sees something, and calls them over.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked, feeling a little like I’d just stumbled into a heist movie. Which probably wouldn’t have been so bad, except that I’d never stolen anything in my life.

“I cased the joint,” she said proudly.

“You think you’re so cool right now, don’t you?”

“How long did you say you can hold your breath for?” she asked, ignoring my teasing.

“What? I don’t know, like twenty minutes? I get a little dizzy, but-“

“Twenty minutes is more than enough,” she said, grinning. Then her expression grew serious. “Now, this part is a little dicey, but bear with me, okay?”

She looked genuinely concerned, but whether she was worried I would judge her, or tell her I hated her idea, I wasn’t sure. It made me dread asking what the next part of her plan was.

“Alright…”

“Have you ever heard of a drug called Fentanyl?” she asked, her voice hushed.

“No?”

“Figures. It’s mostly used as a painkiller, sometimes an anaesthetic, but in 2002, a weaponised version of it was used to knock out a bunch of terrorists in a hostage situation.”

She said it so casually, like that was a completely normal thing to know. I had no idea how to respond.

“And that helps us because…?”

“Well, Fentanyl isn’t actually that hard to get, and I’m more clever than I look,” she said. I had to think about that for a few seconds. Was she actually suggesting…

“How did you get your hands on medical anaesthetic?”

“Best not to ask,” she said quickly. “I spent a lot of time on the library computers at school. Used someone else’s login. And now, I have this.”

She pulled out of her bag a small, black object, and handed it to me. It was a phone, fairly old, and powered off.

“A crappy phone?”

She’d never owned a phone, since she didn’t have any money, and her mum wouldn’t ever get her one. It didn’t seem like she was announcing her sudden acquisition of one to me.

“Just the case,” she said, a little too satisfied with herself for me to not be suspicious. “Inside it is a dispersion mechanism for a modified Fentanyl gas.”

If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them. I was still having a hard time believing she’d been able to manage something like that, but the earnest look on her face was very convincing, and there was really no reason for her to lie about it.

“And it won’t hurt or kill anyone?” I asked, giving her the same courtesy of belief she’d always given me.

“There’s like, a fifteen percent change it could be fatal,” she said, looking away.

“Rachel.”

“Chances go down if we call an ambulance, just to make sure. And tell them to have naloxone handy.”

“Where did you learn all this stuff?” I wasn’t sure whether to be worried or impressed. Either way, I was glad she was working with me, and not against me.

“Nowhere as fancy as you’d imagine,” she said, shrugging. “Anyway, all you need to do is go up to the security room, get him to let you in, then release the gas and hold your breath.”

“Seems like there’d be easier ways…”

“I’m sorry, do you have a better plan?”

“Fine, fine. How am I going to manage getting into the security booth? I can’t imagine they just let anyone in.”

She wouldn’t look me in the eye, biting her lip the same way she always did when being forced to do something she didn’t want to do.

“Rachel…”

“Well, he’d have to be a real monster to turn away a teenage girl with a stab wound, right?”

I almost laughed, but caught myself just in time. I was seeing a side of her I’d never seen before, clever and calculating, and every surprise made me feel a little closer to her, no matter what it was.

“When did you turn into a supervillain?” I asked, genuinely impressed with her. “I never would have thought of that, but it’s brilliant!”

“What makes you think I haven’t always been like this?” she asked, finally meeting my eye, a little of her confidence returning.

“Well, this is gonna be one Hell of a date, if nothing else,” I said, stretching out. “I’m assuming you brought the knife?”

I could see now why she’d given me a change of clothes.

“I try to be memorable, if nothing else,” she said, digging around in her backpack again. She actually did pull out a kitchen knife, and I felt a slight discomfort in my stomach. She looked concerned again. “You sure about this?”

“I’ve lived through worse,” I said, trying to sound casual about it. Truth be told, I knew it was going to hurt, a lot, but I was willing to suffer it, and I didn’t want to say a bad word about her plan.

“Once the guy is unconscious, get right out of there, and meet me at unit E17. We’ll bust open the door, grab as much as we can carry, and book it.”

“Don’t the cameras record?”

“Not tonight,” she said. “While you’re knocking out the guard, I’ll be introducing the server to an electromagnet. I’ve already fucked with their external connection, so none of the data will be copied off-site.”

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“I have my moments.”

She smiled at me, and I felt my heart flutter. That could have easily been because of the knife she was holding, though.

“Alright, let’s do this,” I said, gritting my teeth and pulling the hoodie over my head. “Right in the gut, hard as you can.”

“You know, if Sadie saw this…”

“Just stab me, you wimp.”

“You’re a true romantic, you know that?” she muttered.

She pulled the knife back, grabbed my shoulder, and drove the blade into me, just as hard as she could.

 

Next: If It Takes A Thousand Lifetimes

Eleven Months Before Impact Day

“It feels weird being out this late,” Rachel said, in between mouthfuls of burger. The way she tore into it, it made me worry she hadn’t eaten properly in days.

We were sitting on the top level of an empty car park, legs dangling over the edge, completely alone. Our perch protected us from the wind, so it was eerily calm and quiet. Above us, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Just stars, gently twinkling.

“You worried?”

“A little, but I’m still glad I’m here,” she said. “Thanks for the food.”

I was so glad I could trust her, in that moment. I needed to be able to believe her when she said things were okay.

“Oh, it’s not a gift,” I said, a little less nonchalantly than I’d hoped. “It’s a bribe.”

“Well, it’s working. What is it you want?”

God, that smile. It was like staring into the face of the world’s cutest kitten, only intensified tenfold.

“Oh, you know. Everything,” I said, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the sky.

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said, laughing.

“I can hold my breath for a pretty long time, you know.”

“Well, you’re welcome to try, but I’ve never known you to be all that patient,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m really not.”

“Heh.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the stars and enjoying the peacefulness. That said, I doubted either of us actually felt all that peaceful. I certainly didn’t. One look at her and I knew she felt the same.

“So,” I said, barely able to get my mouth to work.

“Yes?”

“We should talk,” I managed to say, letting all of the air in my lungs out in the process.

“Yeah,” she said, staring down at her lap. “I’ve been thinking the same.”

My heart was pounding against the insides of my chest, and I was breathing in quick, short bursts. The next part was crucial, because neither of us knew what the other wanted to say. All we knew was that if we wanted different things, there wasn’t an easy way to reconcile that.

“Anything you want to start with?” I asked hopefully.

“God, no,” she said, obviously as nervous as I was. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

“Damn.”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding a little more sincere than I would have liked.

“It’s okay. I’m just worried I’m gonna make a fool of myself,” I said.

“More than usual, you mean?” she teased.  That was good. It felt normal. Natural.

“That is just patently untrue,” I said indignantly. “Slanderous, even.”

“Sure, sure. You’re a paragon of grace and elegance.”

She laughed, and it instantly relaxed me. Being around her, it was an incredible mix of exciting and soothing.

“You know, I think I’m starting to have a change of heart,” I said threateningly, but hopefully not too threateningly. It was only meant to be playful.

“Alright, alright,” she said, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Well…”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The fresh air was soothing, and it eased my frayed nerves a little.

“Do you feel any differently to, you know, the last time we talked?” I asked. It felt like my heart stopped beating until she answered.

“What? No, of course not!” she said, looking alarmed. “Do… do you?”

So her feelings hadn’t changed. No second thoughts, no regrets. She’d have some something if she wasn’t certain. That knowledge had an immediate calming effect. I realised that the uncertainty was the part that had been the hardest to deal with. With that out of the way, I was ready to keep going.

Don’t screw this up, Charlie.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” I said, slowly, carefully. “Like, pretty much constantly. And I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve been really confused.”

Her expression turned serious. “Look, Charlie, if you don’t want to, you know… It’s okay,” she said, her voice breaking a little.

“I… I think I do want to, though,” I said, feeling my face burning. I couldn’t look at her.

“You do?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Then, “Wait, what exactly is it that you want?”

That was the question I’d been dreading, because I honestly didn’t know how to answer it. I wanted to do what she wanted to do, but I couldn’t exactly say it like that, could I?

“I’m a little hazy on the details,” I said, feeling kind of pathetic. “But I really like you, and I want to, um, you know…”

Make you happy. I actually couldn’t even finish the sentence. It wasn’t awkwardness that I felt so much as vulnerability, which was a feeling I didn’t have a lot of experience with. No, scratch that. It was a feeling I’d spent most of my life actively trying to avoid.

“Are you asking me out?” she asked, her tone regaining just a little of her usual confidence, and even a hint of sly teasing.

“Maybe?”

“Wow.”

“Shut up, I’ve never done this before,” I grumbled.

“Charlie, of course I want to go out with you,” she said, her hand resting on mine. If possible it felt like my face somehow got even hotter.

“That almost sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming…”

“Well, I mean, we probably need to talk about a few things,” she said, her practical side starting to take back over again. That was a relief to me, because her practical side was a lot easier to deal with, or at least easier to understand.

“Yeah, that’s putting it mildly,” I conceded.

“Should we tell anyone?” she asked, and I could already see the beginning of her mental checklist. That was good. Structure was good.

“Do you want to tell anyone?” I asked, not quite knowing the answer to that myself.

“Well, I don’t want to keep it a secret,” she said, squeezing my hand. “But at the same time…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe we should just keep it to ourselves for now.”

Something about that felt profoundly disappointing, like we’d already lost a battle we didn’t want to fight in the first place. Still, we both had enough to deal with without adding other people’s politics into the mix.

“We still can’t see each other very much,” she pointed out, her voice heavy.

“We’ll just have to make the most of the time we do have,” I said, though I hadn’t actually seriously considered that point before. “Or figure out a way to manage more.”

“As long as you’re okay with that,” she said.

Okay, that was as close to a perfect time to ask as I was ever going to get. I had to say it. Even if I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

“Are you okay with me being, y’know, me?” I asked, and I know she could feel my hand trembling. She squeezed it again, and slid a little closer to me.

“Come one, who wouldn’t want their girlfriend to be an immortal ghost whisperer?”

I almost didn’t hear her oddly touching description of me, because my brain hitched on the world ‘girlfriend’. It surprised me to hear it. It surprised me even more to realise that just one word could hold that much power.

“Girlfriend?”

“That… just kind of slipped out,” she said, embarrassed.

“I like it,” I said, just as embarrassed.

“You do?”

“Shut up.”

We were close enough that our shoulders were touching. Even though we’d sat that close dozens of times before, it felt like the most intimate moment we’d ever shared.

“That’s not what I meant, though,” I said, wishing I wouldn’t.

“What do you mean, then?”

“I’m not, you know. Romantic. Or whatever. I dunno how. I might never be like that,” I said, surprised at how much the admission frightened me.

“Oh,” she said. “I don’t think I really want that, though?”

“You don’t?”

“I think I just want to be honest. If we can keep being honest, I think things will be okay, you know?”

“I hope so,” I said, squeezing her hand.

“What about Sadie?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I hadn’t even thought about that,” I lied. I’d been going over what I was going to say to Sadie in my head for days, but I hadn’t been able to come up with anything, not without talking to Rachel first.

“Do you think she’ll figure it out on her own?”

“Probably,” I said. Sadie wasn’t exactly oblivious, and she’d already told me she was suspicious about our relationship. Hell, it was almost like she knew before I did.

“Does she still not like me?” Rachel asked, and I winced. I found myself wishing I hadn’t shared that with her.

“She’s going to have to deal with it.”

“I wish I could talk to her,” she said wistfully.

“I mean, I could act as a medium, but…”

“It’s not the same,” she said, and I agreed with her. It would have felt entirely too weird.

From the very first time I’d told her about Sadie, she’d never once asked me to prove it. She’d never tried to force an interaction with Sadie in any way, even when I’d told her Sadie was present. Trying to get the two of them to talk now, it would have just felt weird.

“I guess not.”

“There was one other thing,” she said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

“Yeah?”

“Would it… Would it be okay if I… Um…”

She trailed off. When I glanced over at her, I could see that she was blushing even harder than I was. Her gaze was fixed intently in the other direction, and I could feel her hand shaking a little.

“Rachel?”

“I kind of want to kiss you,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” I said, without thinking. I was surprised and probably the most nervous I’d been all night. It took me a second to realise that reaction probably wasn’t the one she was looking for, and I felt like I’d just messed everything up.

“Um…”

Oh god, I couldn’t say anything else. I needed time to think, but she was waiting for me to say something, instead of just staring at her like an idiot.

“What if I’m bad at it?” I asked, feeling like it was the most serious issue I’d ever been faced with in my life.

“What?”

“What if I’m a bad kisser?” I asked again, like the biggest dork in the universe.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Am I not allowed to be worried about that?”

“Well, what if I’m a bad kisser?” she asked, frowning at me.

“I won’t even know if you’re a bad kisser, I’m gonna be too busy focussing on whether I’m bad or not,” I told her.

“So…”

“Oh.”

“You are so cute,” she said, reigniting my cheeks with a ferocious new wave of blushing.

“Shut up.”

Without me realising entirely how it happened, our faces were very close together, our foreheads just lightly resting against one another. Her fingers wrapped around mine, and for a few agonisingly intense seconds, we held that position, staring into each other’s eyes.

I don’t know which of us closed the distance, but the moment her lips touched mine, it didn’t matter. Physically, the sensation was nothing special; a little wet, a little warm, a little soft. It didn’t feel like a physical act, though. It felt like a whole new kind of connection, one that made every nerve in my body tingle.

My hand grabbed the front of her coat, holding her close to me, the action almost subconscious. All I wanted was to just melt into her, to press myself against her, to never let her go. If I’d had any doubts before that moment, they were all gone after, at least momentarily. All I could think about was how unbelievably perfect that moment was, and how I never wanted it to end.

When we pulled away, we both smiled shyly at each her, her biting her lip cutely. We stayed that way for a little longer, just enjoying the closeness.

“So…?” I said, when the silence became too much to bear.

“Too early to say,” she said solemnly.

“What?”

“I’m going to need to run a few more tests,” she said smugly. “For science, you understand.”

I shoved her playfully. “Idiot.”

“Did you not like it?” she asked, giving me her puppy dog eyes again.

“I didn’t say that.”

“So?”

“I am not going to say it,” I insisted.

“You either have to say it, or do it again,” she said authoritatively.

“I’m not falling for that,” I told her.

“You totally are, though,” she retorted, and damn her, she was right.

“Are you going to be like this all the time now?” I asked. She frowned, and pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant o be annoying…”

“No, I actually kind of like it,” I said, worried I’d already managed to upset her. That had to be some kind of record, right?

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,” she replied sullenly.

“I really am happy,” I told her, squeezing her hand.

“Really?”

“I promise,” I said, and as soon as I did, her face cracked into the most adorably, infuriatingly smug smile I’d ever seen.

“Wow, that was easier than I expected.”

“You suck,” I said. “I take it back.”

“Too late, I already heard it,” she said cheerfully.

“Well I hope it was worth it, because it’s the last nice thing I’m gonna say for a while,” I told her petulantly.

“It was totally worth it. Also, I probably need to get home soon.”

Until she said that, I’d completely forgotten that the only reason she could even be out of the house was because her mum was out, and we had no idea when she’d be back again. We absolutely needed to get Rachel back home again.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” I asked, scrambling to pull my phone out of my pocket to check.

“I really don’t want to know.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I said, frowning a little.

“Me either, but I don’t want to have to leave you, either,” she said, wrapping her arm around mine affectionately.

“I’ll come by again in a couple of nights, okay?”

“Oh yeah!” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Actually, I had something I wanted to do with you.”

“You did?”

“Well, it might seem a bit boring after tonight, but…”

“I’ll let you surprise me, then,” I said, wondering what she could possibly be planning. Whatever it was, I was just glad to be able to spend more time with her.

“So trusting all of a sudden.”

“Hey, I always trust you,” I said defensively.

“And so you should.”

“Alright, get out of here,” I said, giving her a friendly shove.

“One more time before I go?” she asked, tugging on my arm.

“…Okay,” I said, wondering if I would ever stop blushing.

 

Next Week: That Would Be Normal