Page 43 of Electricity

D arius picked me up again the next morning without asking. “Good news!” he announced as I slid in.

“What?”

“Mason took the bait. I’m meeting with him tonight.”

“Awesome,” I said, even though the pit of my stomach dropped.

“I even figured out how you could come along.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be my sober driver.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “We’re gonna meet up tonight, smoke some shit, and when his defenses are down you’ll do your thing.”

It was a better plan than what I’d had and it didn’t involve almost kissing any member of the baseball team, so hooray. “Awesome,” I said, with a bit more conviction. “Do you smoke often?”

“No. It cuts into my margin. Plus, if my uncle found out—” Darius shuddered and I had a sudden image of him winding up taxidermied next to the jackalope. “It’s not worth the risk. Getting back to California is more important.”

I nodded like I totally understood, then changed the subject because I didn’t want to think about him leaving yet. “Hey—I have some good news, too.”

“Yeah?”

“I got the dress situation worked out. Miraculously.”

“Cool.”

“Annnnd, I sort of explained how I was getting to prom to my mom, only she thinks I’m gonna wind up there with Liam—I told her you were just Liam’s accommodating junior buddy.”

Darius fully looked over at me. “That’s not some racist thing, is it?”

“Like, would my mom approve, otherwise?” I asked us both out loud, before putting my hands to my mouth.

I didn’t know. “I mean, she’s seen me hanging out with Liam.

If someone she doesn’t know—who, God help me, isn’t a member of our beloved baseball team—tries to pick me up—honestly, if you’re asking if my mom’s a racist, I don’t think so?

But I’ve also never gone on a real date before.

So she could just generally dislike all boys who aren’t named Liam. ”

He appeared to be in deep thought long enough that I thought I’d ruined things, then asked: “You’ve never been on a date before?” and I realized that I had, only in an entirely new and different way.

I shook my head mutely.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that,” he said. I felt my ears get red and I couldn’t quite look over at him for the rest of the drive in.

The day passed by in a blur. I read, I listened—to everyone’s texts, in addition to my teachers—and I performed just enough to give the illusion that I was really there.

But I wasn’t. I was in-between again. Half-way in school, walking the halls, listening to the clamor between classes all around me—and half-way already gone.

My confidence that there was someplace better than this that I could someday get to, leaving everything here but Lacey and Sarah behind—it was the only thing that got me through each day.

And now, with the pressure of Mason and photos and prom, of Danny and bras and blow-jobs, I found myself living more in that dreamworld, the one where I could somehow afford college and only take classes I wanted to take and professors trusted me to be a grown-up instead of hounding after me like a child.

Just two more years here. Two years would only be 1/40 th of my likely eighty.

I could survive anything for two more years.

College, and the opportunities for freedom it might provide, was my California.

I was considering this and trying to figure out who I could borrow Aleve from, blundering late out of the library on my way to chemistry, when I walked past Bruce.

“Hey, Jessie,” he shouted and I turned. We were the only people in the hall—he grabbed his crotch and shook it at me. “Anytime you want to suck a nut dry, let me know.”

Things went white. Electricity poured out of the walls and crackled all around me. He would’ve felt it if he hadn’t been so eager to shame me—I could see the loose hairs atop his head start to rise.

“Wouldn’t wait by the phone if I were you,” I said, trying to stay calm, as he laughed on his way down the hall.

I did the math in my head quickly. Just a little over 730 days to go.

Liam ignored me in chemistry, which was just as well, and I beat Darius out to his car in my eagerness to escape.

I leaned against the passenger door, watching him stride out to it like he owned the whole parking lot.

Somehow the self-confidence that I used to think was egregious had become a massive turn on and I wished that he were walking toward me instead of the driver side. He beeped it open and we both got in.

“You ready?” he asked.

“If you have a plan.”

“Mason’s cutting practice today for me. And you’re coming with. He’ll want to play a video-game with me, he always does. We’ll do that, then I’ll go pee, and you’ll ask to borrow his phone, then wipe it.”

“But—” I checked out the clock on his dash. I had maybe an hour of leeway, if that, and if my mom caught me I was going to have to lie again, raising the chances of me getting caught and grounded 200%.

And if I got caught doing this, of all things—in a room with two stupid stoned boys –

Darius read my mind. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re completely sure about that?”

“Yeah. As sure as I can be. All you have to be is cool, Jessie.”

Easier said than done. I closed my eyes. “I may never admit this outside of this vehicle, but I am not cool.”

“You can control electricity with your mind. You are cool. Trust me,” he said, with far more confidence than I felt, and then I felt us turn in the opposite direction of Ventana.

Mason lived in yet another nice house on a lot surrounded by acres of yard. I found myself envying his ability to go about his life never having to hear his neighbors shouting, as we knocked on the front door.

He answered almost instantly, excited to see Darius—and confused to see me. “What’d you bring her for?”

“To drive me. Think I’m going to let you try the special shit alone?” He made a show of swinging out his keys and like a faithful DD, I caught and pocketed them.

Mason took another look at me then, slow and greasy, head to toe, with a slight sneer. “Guess you can come in then. And hey, who knows what’ll happen.”

“Thanks,” I said like I meant it, and followed the two of them in.

Mason led us through his house to a room upstairs. It was clearly his—it smelled like boy, and it was decorated with mementos from his past, much the same as Liam’s had been. He and Darius took the chairs in front of his flat screen TV, while I was forced to sit on the unmade bed.

“Sorry to make you come over during daylight hours,” Mason apologized to Darius, not to me. “But this is the only time that works out before this weekend.”

“You know me, I’m always available,” Darius said, holding out his hand for an intricate handshake-punch.

“K. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I realized then the utility of Darius’s overly complicated jacket. The thing was studded with pockets and from inside of these, he pulled the tools of his trade—a bag full of green wads, rolling papers, and a lighter.

“So what’s this stuff again?”

“California Prime. It’s a Bruce Banner-variant.

Smokes smooth, but will fuck your shit up.

” Darius created a joint in mere seconds.

“I got it from my cousin, out on a special road trip—he brought it out for his Spring Break, and I am honored to share it with you.” He twirled the joint along his fingers like a magician danced a coin, then proffered it out dramatically.

Mason took it, clearly pleased with the show. “Should I open some windows?”

“Nah, we’ve got a few hours and a strong fan.” He leaned back in his chair and lit the joint, inhaling slowly, then talking without exhaling at all. “My Mom’s at Grandma’s, and Dad’s pulling an extra shift.”

“Excellent,” Darius said, as Mason handed the joint and lighter over.

I did not have a few hours—or a strong fan—if I got caught walking into my place, smelling like pot—I bit my lips and wrung my hands in Mason’s sheets. I had to be strong for Lacey. Even if in doing so I was never allowed out of my bedroom again, was homeschooled, and likely fed through a straw.

Mason exhaled a cloud of smoke at long last and gave Darius a look. “The usual?”

Darius grinned. “You’re on.”

Mason dug through assorted piles of electronics and emerged with two steering-wheel shaped controllers, one of which he tossed to Darius. “This is gonna be just like last time—carnage.”

“I only let you win so you’ll keep buying from me is all.”

Mason booted a game on. Cheerful music blared and cartoon characters started dancing across the screen. “Dibs on the cloud-carriage.”

“Anything but the fucking desert?—”

“Deal—”

And with a sound between bullets and puttering engines, they were off.

It was a racing game. A ludicrously hard one and neither of them seemed to mind, they were more interested in setting each other on fire or flinging banana peels than actually using skill.

They were horseplaying on the screen and dicking around in real life and none of this was getting me closer to Mason’s phone.

They paused between courses, to take another drag. Mason looked at the joint afterwards. “This isn’t doing anything special for me.”

“Give it time,” Darius said, glancing back.

That was when I realized the discrepancy between the two of them—Mason was three times Darius’s size—it’d take three times as much stuff to get him high, and by then Darius might be on the ground.

I came off the bed and crawled to sit between them, daring to be in the smoke’s path.

“I want to see better. Go again?” I asked, and Darius hit the start button.

They made fresh laps around the course, with non-player characters whizzing by.

This route had jumps and oceans and star-ships—Mason’s character careened off the route, and I knew what I could do—I tapped into the game and kept it there.

It bobbed in midair, fighting against all of its former programming, and I made it zoom this way and that –

Mason leaned forward, jaw dropped. “Shit, D, did you see that?”

“Nah, man—but I told you. Stuff comes on,” Darius said, giving me a subtle nod.

After that I let it fall and from then on took great pleasure in fucking with him.

“This—I don’t even feel that high—this is impossible—how can I be this wasted?” Mason complained as his thick fingers jammed against the controls. I was taking a little too much joy in things and making it nearly impossible. “How come you’re not dying too?”

“I’m being careful. Also, my tolerance is much higher than yours. Hazard of the trade.”

Mason grunted as his character flew off into the ocean again. “Did you see that?” he reached out to trace its path through the air.

“Yeah—I gotta piss—be right back.” Darius said, and stood, leaving me alone.

“That’s insane,” Mason muttered to himself. Left to his own devices, he picked up the joint and took another drag.

I pulled my phone out. “Hey—I gotta make a call, but I don’t get any reception here.” I hit my phone against my opposite hand like it was empty. “Can I borrow yours?”

Mason blinked at me, his face dopey, his eyes a little red. “Yeah, sure.” He leaned to one side, and pulled his own phone out.

Was it…really going to be this easy?

“Heard about you and Danny.” He pulled his phone back as I reached out for it.

“You mean his lies?”

“Between him and Liam, seems like you’re working your way through the team.” He ignored me, then hovered the phone in mid-air, before landing it on his crotch. “If you want to skip ahead to me, feel free.”

My teeth grit but I kept a smile plastered high and rose up onto my knees, crawling around to face him.

“Is this what you want?” I asked, while slowly reaching my hand forward for the phone. He chuckled and leaned back, wide-pupiled eyes on me, and I reached for his phone faster than he could stop me, and yanked it back.