Sink (Complete five-hundred pages) (Moving to Kindle Unlimited in 30 Days)

28

PLAY

He accelerated down Arroyo Parkway. Every green light gestured he pass.

Beneath his shades he winked at every golden-lock passerby, whose tongue moistened her lips, whose strut developed in his sight, whose smile shot like a heat seeking bullet while he zoomed on his way.

His car was a red Ferrari. Happy he'd washed it in return for a test drive, he sped through the road like he owned a jewel for the world to view.

A screech and a turn onto McBean, a screech and a turn onto Carrizo. . . a screech and a turn onto-- a slide, a slither, a stop--

Espinoza Avenue.

There, he hugged the curb, popped the door, rung his shirt, and smiled to a blue house.

Hiding on the other side of the street, where a park area joined a public pool, the whole gang watched in silence. . . Their smiles raised them to their feet. They waved him over behind the trees.

His smiled and waved. He pulled a bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat. . . he closed the car door and tiptoed across the street.

***

Knock, knock, knock-knock, and knock. Knock. Knock. . .

***

Anna called me today. It was her birthday, but I hadn't call her.

Nonetheless, Eric's birthday surprise for her kept her in good spirits. She told me all about how Eric knocked on her door, how the gang shot off fireworks in the street, how they all cheered happy birthday for her. He gave her flowers, had the gang throw up an enormous sign, which read in pink letters, "P-R-O-M?" They took her to the pool, more people came, they had a party with pizza, sandwiches, drinks, and music. . . until the neighborhood patrolman came and kicked them out.

So, Anna called me, albeit we haven't talked since I isolated myself two months ago.

She figured I didn't call to wish her a happy birthday was because I was just busy. Fortunately for me, she invited me to her 'real' party tomorrow, when Cole Diamond will throw a birthday/pre-prom palooza at his house.

But I realized it was about a week until finals week. My final projects and college apps will be due, too. Plus, I'd promised myself last night I wouldn't do anything besides work until this horrible semester was over. I didn't want to jeopardize my grades, and I certainly needed to focus on my college applications. . . Aww, Kitty, it tore me up inside how tight I locked myself in this prison. . .

I told her, I wish I could go. . . I really did. . . but I had work to do. . . so much work to do. . . so much work. . . like always. . .

There was a moment of uncomfortable pause. . . until Anna said. . .

***

"Ali. . ."

Alison poured water into her glass. She balanced her phone between her cheek and shoulder while she slugged over to the refrigerator.

"Yes," she said, her soft voice brittle, "Anna?"

After Alison closed the refrigerator door, she returned to the counter where she rose her water glass to sip it until it emptied. She looked around the kitchen, until she surveyed the adjoining dining room; Alison neglected to switch on the lights, so both rooms darkened with the world, into lightless gray. . .

"Ali. . . We've known each other since preschool. . ." said Anna. "And I was just. . . wondering. . ." Anna paused. "Are we not friends anymore?"

Alison closed her eyes; she pushed her glass aside before she folded her arms and lay down her head. She felt the boniness of her arms, which reminded her of and made her see the memory of seeing the sandwich in the fridge, the sandwich out to which she held her hand and refused to succumb to eating, because she knew eating would ruin her streak of dedication to her studies; she opened her eyes; she lifted them to the glass of water; she saw a streak of orange reflection which warped across it; she turned her head to the far corner of the dining room, where the door to the stairs to her bedroom, the dungeon, stood, while her upstairs lamp shined the dark color orange to carpet beneath the door.

"I'm just too busy, Anna," she said. "I'm sorry. Winter break, maybe we could--"

Alison heard Anna sigh.

Alison wondered what the Hell she could say to convince Anna she wasn't just a workaholic, but actually very behind; but you can't convince anybody, she remembered Anna once say, hardly ten percent of people deserve your time.

"Anna, if you can't respect my responsibilities, then that's your problem. . ."

"You expect me to sympathize with you?" Anna said. "You've given up me, your friends, your sleep. . . I've seen you in the library during lunch, I notice you never do your hair, you never apply makeup. . . you're so white--"

"I deserve encouragement from you," Alison said. "I have higher dreams than you-- not all of us just want to just raise children and do laundry for some man. . ."

Anna gasped disgust.

"Just because I know how to balance my life between my work and play, doesn't mean I'm less academic," she said. " I'm still class rank number thirty--"

Alison laughed. She sneered to the mirror across the dining room, where she shook her head to her reflection.

"Oh yeah? Rank thirty? And that's good enough for you; you're just gonna stay right where you are; you're comfortable, with- with-- mediocrity?" she said. Alison gripped her face under one hand before she shouted through her palm to muffle her cry. "Anna," she breathed, "don't do this. Don't stop working hard. Senioritis is just going to bite you in the end. Don't throw your future away just so you can "live it up" before high school ends-- don't do it Anna-- you can still do anything you want-- you can still go to U-C-L-A, U-S-C, Harvard, YALE."

"JUST SHUT UP ALISON," said Anna. "You're obsessed. You think you're playing it smart while the rest of us are slacking; but Ali, we're not going to be the one's looking back at our youth, regretting that we sacrificed it all. You overwork because you fear mediocrity? I think you overwork because you just can't balance your life. You realized you can't balance your life, so you chose one or the other, work or play, and you chose work."

Alison paused; her face contorted; she saw her reflection across the dining room and saw white skeleton in sweats. . . her natural face shined in the dark, like a vampire. . . Her stomach gurgled, which sent an echo through the house.

"Anna, I understand you think I overwork, but I started my college apps late, while I have so many AP classes, plus I. . ." she gulped; she paused to stare out the window, where her pool sat, where leaves circled each other along its surface. . . She squinted her heavy eyes, to better notice the black spiders, which wiggled, and drowned, engulfed by poisonous chlorine, which layered the surface. . . "Anna, I'm sorry-- I have to go now--"

The yard darkened. Alison turned to view the clock, which read only five-thirty pm.

"Then go," said Anna. "Go do homework, Ali."

Alison stared out the window, where she saw the orange clouds drifted above the trees. She looked down, where the tile turn to ice, until her bare feet numbed in the darkness.

"I am sorry, Anna," she said. Alison eyes wetted while she lifted her glass, to see her skull return a glare. She pursed her lips, to say, "But work is good, Anna."

The rooms faded into deeper darkness, while the furniture disappeared, and Alison stepped around the counter, until she saw her whole body enter the dining room wall mirror.

"Go find balance, Ali," said Anna. "I believe play is good."

The darkness swallowed the house, until it entered pitch-blackness.

"Happy birthday to me," said Anna. "Enjoy your work, Ali."

The receiver clicked, before Alison lay her invisible phone on the vanished counter. She walked slowly in the dark; her feet trudged along the ice of the tiles.

To herself she said, "Play will follow. . ." Tears swam in her eye bags. "Play will follow. . ."

When she reached the door, she turned to the mirror. In pitch blackness, surrounded only by blackness, besides only the thinnest strip of brick orange light which penetrated her dungeon door, Alison saw the skeleton-ghost; it rattled, it clinked; it mourned the death of butterflies. . . of rainbows. . . and of fields of fields of grass. . .