Iɴ MɪʟD FʀɪɢHᴛ • DᴏNɴɪᴇ DᴀRᴋᴏ

the fifth

I'M OFF TO a diner with Donnie Darko. i'm dressed in trousers and a shirt and some battered shoes. i've got lip gloss on.

     i get to the diner a bit late, and Donnie's already sat inside.

    he tells me he hasn't been there long. we order drinks. i get a cola and so does he. as we chat he brings out a little flask.

     "it's vodka, want some in your coke?" he asks, gesturing to my glass.

     "a drop, sure."

     before i take a drink i quickly take a pill from the little tube. Donnie's not looking so i pop it in my mouth and take a gulp of cola.

     we order some fries to share and face each other awkwardly.

     Donnie breaks the silence, "what's your favourite movie?"

     i smile and put my hands on the table, clasping them together. "out of all the questions, you picked the hardest,"

     he smiles back and shrugs. "sorry,"

     "i love Back to the Future," i say after a moment's thought.

     "no way," he raises his hand hands in exclamation. "me too,"

     "i'd like to drive a Delorean," i sigh, gazing out the window at the darkening sky. it's pink and purple. soon i'll see the smiling man.

     "did you know they're built in Northern Ireland?" Donnie muses as we're served our chips.

     "Belfast," i nod.

    he takes a chip and twirls it at me. "what's your first name?"

     i laugh. it's a fair question. "everyone just refers to me as Mirov, even calling the attendance,"

     Donnie furrows his brow in amusement. "what, you have a really embarrassing first name or something?"

     "or something," i say, dipping a chip in the tub of tomato sauce.

    "so what is it then?"

     i sigh and bite the end off of the chip. keeping him waiting as i chew, we don't break eye contact.

     i swallow the fry and like the salt off my fingertips. "my name is Katla,"

    Donnie narrows his eyes in thought. "is that Scandinavian?"

     i nod. "my mum is Latvian,"

Donnie nods back, pausing for a moment. his eyes flick to mine individually. he does it a lot. "Katla is a cool name. you should use it more,"

i smile. "maybe i will,"

—

we finish our drinks and our chips and then Donnie takes me on a walk. i'm enjoying my time with him, so i forget about the smiling man and his worry.

there's something about him that feels oddly comforting. the facts he tells me, the way he tells them. his smile when i laugh at his jokes.

i feel more normal than i ever have, walking beside the least normal guy i could ever go with.

"what do you want to be when you're older?" i ask him, our footfall syncing. we're walking up a hill. it's a familiar hill but i can't touch on why.

"i want to be a writer," Donnie says, with great confidence.

my lips part in surprise. "that's pretty awesome,"

"what about you?" he returns the question.

i shrug. "i like playing the bass, i guess i could be in a band."

"really? wouldn't you want to do something..." he trails off.

"more academic?" i smirk. "i might be a good student but that doesn't mean i want to be,"

"i didn't mean it in a bad way, don't get me wrong," he looks at me. "what music do you like?"

i ponder the answer. "i listen to a lot of Sabbath and Zeppelin, but i also love some Bowie and the Beatles' later stuff,"

Donnie doesn't reply. he just reaches for my hand. i let him take it. sparks run up my arm at the physical contact.

i glance at him and smile like a child. he pulls me into a run, and we sprint up the hill as the sun dips below the horizon.

     the smiling man is between the trees. i don't look at him.

     we stop by a field, and i spot a crooked old house at the top of the slope. my jaw cracks open in surprise. "Grandma Death's place," i say.

     i've never been there with enough light to actually see it. in this twilight, i can make out it's true eerie structure.

     Donnie tugs my hand and nods to the field. "that's not where we're going,"

     "instead, a field," i squint. "are you gonna murder me, Donnie?"

     "only if i have to," his voice is all too serious but the flick in his eyes tells all.

     we run along a trodden dirt path through the field to a small open patch. some sofas lay around, a small crate next to one of them.

     we sit down on one of them and Donnie makes sure we're smooshed right together.

      it's only been one date but it feels like a million. i yawn as i remember i didn't sleep last night, and nestle my head on Donnie's shoulder.

     "ever feel like the whole word is insane?" i mutter, staring up at the stars.

      "don't get me started," Donnie chuckles. his arms slides around my shoulders.

     "this new curriculum bullshit is killing me," i say, gazing at his face.

     our eyes meet and he laughs. "me too, they're feeding us all this phony nonsense. i hate it,"

      i look in front of me. the smiling man's face is a meter away. i grit my teeth into a smile and pretend not to see him. he just moves closer. Donnie's talking about his hate for a teacher but i can't listen. Donnie is in between the smiling man and me now.

     the smiling man looks more angry than worried now. his face is white as a sheet with purplish veins scattered across it and green wrinkles.

     "Katla?"

      i snap out of it, looking at Donnie. "y-yeah?" there's a sour taste in my mouth.

     "where you listening?"

     i blink, guilt rising in my chest. "i'm sorry Donnie, i, uh," i gulp. "i got distracted."

      i watch as his jaw clenches and unclenches. he shifts his gaze away from me. it looks like he's staring at someone who isn't there.

      i look at the smiling man. he's following Donnie's gaze.

     as if they can see someone, or something, that i can't.