Love the Boys

Chapter Three

I once loved this guy. He was...complex.

February 1

I woke up with a distinct memory, impossible and incomplete, but it felt so real. It must have been a dream, had to be — an insanely weird, crazy dream. It had faded a lot since I woke up, but part of it was still with me, haunting me and making me shiver — tormenting my waking hours.

A heartbeat had been loud in my ears, but I couldn't say if it was my own. Thu-thump. thu-thump. Pulsing and resounding, the loud, heavy rhythm made me feel nauseous, like I was inside my own body.

Make it stop... Even now it makes me shiver.

The walls around me were like flesh, pulsing with life, with veins running through them, pumping blood that I could not see or taste or fathom. I worried that I was inside my own chest cavity. From here, could I pull out the knife that had penetrated me? Someone had stabbed me in the back, too much of a coward to show me their face. I knew that was true. Suspended in the middle of the chamber was that large blackened heart, beating with a pulse that made me sick. The heart was bleeding, dripping, a rancid puddle beneath it.

And in the midst of that ghastly, impossible scene? Roses. Vibrant red, blooming and thorny roses, spiraling out of the flesh. How could roses have grown and thrived in that environment, unless they were nourished by blood? Was there any truth to that? No, of course it was impossible. That's why it must have been a dream.

No. A nightmare.

I could see a creature rising from the black muck, drawing itself up from the pool that had drained from the heart. Arms emerged, dragging the abomination forward to reveal a form, much like a human and yet alien. A monstrosity. Its body was like black paint, dripping. Its face was porcelain white — a pretty face.

I only managed to choke out a few words.

"What are you?"

That was all I remembered of the dream, but because of it, I'd had the strangest feeling in my stomach all day. Something was going to happen. Maybe to me. Maybe to someone else. But something wasn't right, and I had predicted it like a psychic.

"Are you okay?"

I was startled out of my stupor, turning back to the full pot of coffee that had long since finished brewing. Chelsea had noticed me staring blankly out the front window, and I felt a little embarrassed, but I was quickly back where I was supposed to be. I wanted to act like I hadn't just predicted the fate of the world.

"Just a little spacey, I guess," I told her, forcing a smile, but that never worked with her.

"Like that's something new," Chelsea teased, her eyeliner as thick as ever. "But you'd better hop to it. Nerdy lover-boy is here. You always wait on him, right?"

I looked over to see that Simon was settling himself at the counter like usual. He was arranging his tablet to find an angle where the light wouldn't shine on the screen. Today, despite my bad feelings, I felt more aware, my senses heightened. I noticed every detail. He was wearing a dark shirt and a gray-green jacket with jeans. He pushed his glasses up on his smart nose, his green eyes so focused, and I already knew what he would want. Black coffee to start. But there was something else too — something strange.

When my eyes set on him, my heart fluttered in a way that seemed unfamiliar. Did I always feel nervous at the thought of talking to him? Did I always think about the way he pushed his glasses up on his nose, or how cute he looked when he was so focused on his work? I wasn't sure, but I certainly did now. This seemed like a new feeling that had just sprung up without reason. Why was I nervous?