Break The Ice (5 page)

Kaitlyn:
...and he is going to be around, watching

I laugh out loud. It feels good. I tap the
Add Text
box, but my phone doesn’t respond. I press the screen repeatedly. No response. The screen goes black. Damn it.

Jumping up, I hurry across the room and grab my bag. Please, please, please. Not the main pocket. Or the second biggest. Smallest? No…ah-ha. Always keep a spare around, excellent advice for anyone.

The charger slides into the wall with a tiny spark. I yank my hand away and knock a water bottle onto the floor. It bounces around for a few seconds before rolling under the couch. A small puddle of water leaks out. I’ll clean it up after I respond to Kaitlyn.

I hold the power button and count to fifty before the main screen finishes loading. Five new messages appear.

Kaitlyn:
does that work for you?

Kaitlyn:
sam?

Kaitlyn:
look, if you don’t want to it’s okay

Kaitlyn:
i’m sorry i brought it up

Kaitlyn:
i need to go. talk later

Me:
wait

Me:
Wait, wait, wait. You still there?

Me:
My phone died!

I blew it. She’ll never want to talk to me again. Not only did I ignore her after she asked a serious question, but I probably embarrassed her and now I’ve lost the only friend that–

Kaitlyn:
you’re ridiculous

I hold my breath and wait.

Kaitlyn:
how many times have i told you to not let it get into the yellow?

Kaitlyn:
always keep a spare, right?

Me:
Best advice you’ve ever given me.

Me:
Well, that and to give up on my rogue before wasting my time. :)

Kaitlyn:
haha! it was the worst character you ever made

Me:
And yes, by the way. I don’t mind that plan at all.

Kaitlyn:
good

Kaitlyn:
263 burbank dr. it’s in lake shore

Lake Shore? That’s impossible.

Me:
Lake Shore. PA?

Kaitlyn:
lol, yeah. did you really forget i lived in pa too?

How did I not remember that?

Me:
But that’s only like...twenty minutes from me.

Kaitlyn:
really? i thought you lived in pittsburgh.

Me:
No. Close, but not really.

Kaitlyn:
hey, i really do have to go. phone almost dead and still weirdly out of power

Me:
When can we meet up?

That doesn’t sound desperate or anything.

Kaitlyn:
i don’t start school until next week. we were supposed to today but they cancelled a whole week because of the power

Kaitlyn:
and since you’re only twenty minutes away...tomorrow work? :)

Kaitlyn:
meet me at the orange cone, downtown lake shore.

Kaitlyn:
noon work? i don’t think you’ll miss much at school :) i’ll wear yellow.

Me:
Sounds like a plan.

I read our conversation over, and then again three more times. It all seems like a dream. Or a nightmare. What am I supposed to wear? Hawaiian shirt and tight jeans? I’m not some hipster-senior citizen.

Someone knocks at the door. Melanie leans against the door frame, watching me.

“Hey, bud. How are things?” she says.

“Great,” I say without thinking. I look at mom and then back to Melanie. “All things considered.”

She smiles and holds up another brown bag. “New clothes for tomorrow.” She throws the bag to me.

I unravel it and check inside. Another Hawaiian shirt, more flamingos and palm trees than this one. Of course.

“I figured, why not? You rocked that one pretty hard. Hope you don’t mind wearing the same pants two days in a row.”

“That’s okay. Thanks again, Mel.”

“Mel?” She tilts her head to the side then nods. “I like it. I put some extra things in there for you, too.”

I dig out the shirt and push around the things under it. A copy of Game Informer, a pack of gum, playing cards, and a book. I flip it over to see the cover.
Ender’s Game
. “This is my favorite book,” I say. “How’d you know?”

“You’re pretty much exactly like my brother,” she says. “I took a shot in the dark. You want another ride into school tomorrow?”

My heart beats a little faster. I forgot she had to drive me. “Thanks, but I might take the bus if that’s okay.” That lie isn’t convincing. Who wants to take the bus? “I don’t want to inconvenience you,” I add.

She stares at me funny. But after a quick glance over her shoulder, she says. “Normally, I wouldn’t let that slide, but I kind of have plans tonight and don’t want to wake up that early, anyway. You sure?”

I smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Give me your phone,” she says.

I close out of Facebook before handing it to her.

Her fingers work faster than mine ever have. “My number,” she says. “Text me when you get there so I don’t have to come looking for your body on the roadside. Got it?”

“You bet,” I say. I take the phone back from her, the saved contact still up.
Awesome Nurse Mel.

“If you’re hungry, I told the ladies in the cafeteria to put something good together for you. Just tell them I sent you.”

“Thanks,” I say, shaking the bag. “For everything.”

She winks and gives me a thumbs up. “You got it, bud.”

When Ender transfers into Rat army, my stomach grumbles. I grab my phone.
5:58p.m.
Dinner sounds tempting. I throw a tissue into the book and hurry into the hall. I’m a few steps out the door before I stop. I have no idea where to go. It takes two nurses, a doctor, and a patient to direct me along the way.

It only takes me five minutes in line to reach the front. “Uhh, Mel sent me,” I say to the older lady working behind the glass.

She flashes a crooked smile. “You’re our newest, voluntary resident, huh?”

I shrug. “Seems that way.”

The woman opens a metal closet and pulls out a square box and hands it to me. “Don’t open this until you’re in the room.” She lays a paper plate on top with four quarters holding down a napkin. Pointing at a vending machine in the corners, she says, “If you hit the button twice, it usually spits out a free one.”

“Thanks for the tip,” I say.

The box is hot in my hands and worse when I balance it on my knee to insert the coins. I look around to make sure nobody is watching before tapping Mountain Dew twice. Something inside the machine kicks to life. A few seconds of winding gears and then two bottles fall out instead of one. I glance at the lady handing out a plate of food, and she winks at me. Voluntary residency here isn’t such a bad gig.

I find my way back to the room without any help. Rounding the corner to mom’s room, the sweet smell finally escapes the box. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a pepperoni pizza. My mouth salivates a little. I haven’t had pizza in months, not since school let out before summer.

Four steps from the door, a bitter chill surrounds me. Not again.

Inside the room, Tinjo stands over mom. His face hovers inches from hers, studying every detail.

“Not in here, blue man,” I say.

He turns to me, slow and cautious. The muscles in his arms tense. His eyes meet mine and he relaxes. “What is wrong with her?” he says.

“Cancer, emphysema, probably a few other things the doctors haven’t told me.”

“Interesting.”

“Not really. What do you want?”

“Did you secure the first partner?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m meeting her tomorrow. If she believes a single thing I tell her, then I’m sure she’ll help.”

He nods. “I have your transport. Once you get the girl, I will tell you where to go next.”

“You said I needed a team.”

“There’s something else you will need first.”

“Can we talk later?” I hold up the box in my hands. “It’s time for some food.”

Tinjo shrugs. “Very well. You can call upon me any time in the place we first met. Say my name and I will come.”

A dark shimmer covers Tinjo. He places a hand on the nearest wall. A small cloud opens up, and he disappears through it.

I balance the pizza on the couch and step over a fallen pillow, slipping on something and landing on the cushions. I lean over the edge. A thin sheet of ice spreads out where I dropped the water bottle earlier.

“Creepy guy,” I say, throwing open the box lid and inhaling the first slice.

My phone buzzes, falling off the top of the couch and landing on my chest, waking me. I press the button and squint at the clock. The bright light hurts my eyes, and I have to keep closing them before the time finally flashes through to me.
3:53a.m.
What could be so important before four a.m.?

Muscle memory does most of the work, and I have Facebook open in seconds.

Kaitlyn:
hey

Kaitlyn:
can i tell you something?

I scratch my head and slide my right thumb across the touch screen, hitting delete more times than I’d like.

Me:
Anything. What’s up?

Kaitlyn:
promise not to remember tomorrow?

Me:
I’ll probably think I dreamt it.

Kaitlyn:
okay...

Kaitlyn:
i haven’t been able to fall asleep yet

Kaitlyn:
and

Kaitlyn:
i don’t know why but

Kaitlyn
: i’m nervous about tomorrow

Weird jitters fill my stomach. Her? Nervous? All she has to do is put up with me for a few minutes until I tell her a crazy story about ice men who want us to defeat some fire god.

Me:
You should be.

Kaitlyn:
why?

Me:
Shouldn’t. You shouldn’t be. Stupid autocorrect.

Kaitlyn:
oh. well, i am. any advice?

Me:
Picture me in my underwear...wait, please don’t.

Kaitlyn:
lol

Kaitlyn:
you’re right. tomorrow will be like any other day

Kaitlyn:
when you meet someone you met online

Kaitlyn:
right?

Me:
Well, it’s not like we met yesterday, right?

Kaitlyn:
October 18, 2008

Me:
19, actually.

Kaitlyn:
??

Me:
It was like 2am.

Kaitlyn:
i hadn’t gone to sleep yet. doesn’t count

Me:
Haha, you’re right.

Kaitlyn:
:)

Kaitlyn:
thanks. well, i guess i’ll...see you soon!

Me:
Don’t get too excited. I’m pretty boring.

For five minutes, my reflection stares back at me. She won’t be messaging me back tonight. Reaching out, I hold mom’s hand. I squeeze gently and, closing my eyes and letting sleep take over, I imagine her squeezing back.

I wake to a soft chill in the air. Before I open my eyes, I sigh. “I told you not to come in here,” I say.

“I thought it was a good idea to, you know, check on my patient.”

Mel stands over mom, checking her vitals.

“Oh. Sorry,” I say. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Has somebody been bothering you?” she says.

“No, I just–hey, weren’t you off this morning?”

Mel wraps her stethoscope back around her neck. “I did. Susan Q called off. Something about going into labor.” She shrugs. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

I laugh and swing my legs off the couch. The small layer of ice melted and left a tiny mark on the linoleum.

“Still want to go in solo today?” she says.

“Yeah, I don’t want the other kids to catch me with an older girl too many times in a row. They might think I kidnapped you.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

Shit. I forgot about the lie. “She goes to a different school,” I say. “Not too far away, but on the wrong side of the township lines.” I don’t remember lying being so easy. I used to stutter and stammer and show every tell in the book, but lately I can spit out something without blinking and people actually believe me.

“That’s no good.” She looks at me sideways. “Hey, you’re not ditching me so you can sneak off there today, are you?”

I give her my best appalled face. “Me? Not at all.”

Mel walks over to the door. “That’s a shame. Seems like it’d be fun. Hey, if you find my car keys that may have fallen into your clothes bag, can you hold onto them for the next eight to twelve hours? I won’t need them again until, geez, almost seven o’clock.” She smiles and leaves the room.

After a short pause, I dive for the bag. Rooting through the shirt and socks at the bottom, I find a small pink keychain. Not my taste, but who am I to complain? That’s one problem solved for this morning.

I unlock my phone and pull up Maps. Where the hell is Orange Cone? And what exactly is it? I picture a store selling traffic cones or artists making abstract fruit peels. Or ice cream. My thumb shakes every time I pull it up from hitting a new letter. I’m so giddy and can’t help it. I need to calm down before I get there.

Directions appear on the phone, and I cringe. I try a few alternate routes and don’t find any way I can get to Lake Shore without hopping onto an interstate. I-79 is the fastest, but the news reports horror stories about it all of the time. Oil trucks overturning, people falling asleep at the wheel on a daily basis, suicide cults walking onto the highway. Well, that only happened once.

I weigh the different routes. Faster means I don’t have to worry while I drive. But the slower option will give me less stress. Clenching the keys in my hand, I give mom a quick hug and run out the door. Faster is faster and, right now, that’s what I’m looking for.

It takes a few minutes to change Mel’s seats. She’s a lot smaller than me, and I can’t fit in her car without sending everything to the back. I count each change and take a mental note. If I don’t remember to rearrange everything, she’ll make sure to tell me.

The engine roars to life before quieting to a soft purr. I’m not sure why Mel trusted me in her car. We met two days ago, but here I am, in her Dodge, about to drive on a road I’m terrified of, and the dark clouds from yesterday still linger above. It might start raining any second. I cross my fingers. Please, come out sun. I need you today more than anything. Five minutes into the drive, the gray clouds break and sunlight shines.

I keep my eyes peeled during the drive. Not only for bad drivers or pot holes, but I find myself searching for any sign of the blue Dinmani. I stifle a laugh at the thought. It dies a few seconds later. I can’t deny their existence. Especially if I want Tinjo to help mom.

But the idea of a parallel universe right at the edge of ours makes me laugh again. It’s unreal, something that exists in one of the games Kaitlyn finds.

And then it hits me. The thought of Kaitlyn mixed with the Dinmani brings to light the real reason I’m driving up to meet her. I fooled myself into thinking this was for two friends to meet. And, as excited as I am to meet her face-to-face, I’m not too thrilled to tell her I need her help eradicating a fire-born life form from existence. How do you even begin that conversation?

The sun creeps in through the back window and reflects off the rear view mirror. I shift the mirror, and it falls on my face, hair disheveled, eyes tired, mouth slightly agape. Another problem sinks in. I have no idea what she looks like. But then I smile, realizing I don’t care. If she’s as funny as she is on Team Speak, I’ll be happy. Plus, she already knows what I look like from Facebook, so no shocks there.