Project Nebula

To Reconsider

The room looked like a storage unit. Cinder walls and metal floors. The only difference was the larger space and the iron bars used to block off prisoners. No one was behind them. The muscular cop led us to an isolated desk in the center of the room. He sat in the spinning chair. Helix and I sat in the two ridiculously uncomfortable school chairs on the other side. I tried to avoid slouching.

"Strange that you came to me and not vice versa," he bantered, "And you as well, Ralston."

"I'm just making sure he doesn't run off," I said failing to string together a logical excuse. As many of the teachers I've met like him, it's a possibility he could see past my lies.

The man collected his luggage bag and dropped it on the table. Without a hesitation, he dumped every last item in front of us. 3,000 phones and headphone cords. Unwashed T-shirts. Combs. Usual stuff. The man scattered the items around. His face turned sour once he picked up a handful of unwrapped condoms and cigarettes. I could resist erupting of laughter, instead my face feeling a balloon ready to burst. I turned to him to see that he was hiding his face behind his hand. His radiant, crystal eyes turned to deep, grave pits. It felt like hours until the officer understood the situation. Except there was no real situation. I concocted excuse after lie for why I tagged along. Helix sounded like my mother. Just very vague explanations. To tell the truth, I was expecting he would run off in his car and leave. Or go back to befriend Xander. The whole time, it's like his thoughts were being delivered to my head and putting words on my tongue.

After the scolding, I swept all the junk back in Helix's bag.

In a few excruciating minutes, the cop offered us a ride in his car. To Styx Hotel. Sitting in a dark, hot car next to Helix made me wonder why I didn't own car. In the backseat, I stuffed his duffle bag between us. I looked out the window, so we couldn't breathe the same air, while still admiring his reflection. I could see myself talking to him without twitching or thinking he's going to punch me. Helix picked up the duffle bag and set it on the floor by my feet. I held my breath. He unbuckled his seat belt and looked over at me. Unfortunately, I couldn't see how intense his gaze was. Also, unfortunately, we arrived at the hotel sooner than I expected. I kicked the luggage back to his side of the car and opened the door.

The hotel was at least ten stories and designed like a manor that had to be slimmed down a few miles. I leaned against the wall right next to the door. I heard the sticks and leaves crunch on the ground from around the corner.

"Sir, it's me!" whispered Chance, hiding his body behind a trimmed and decorated bush, hauling his backpack,"Ready to head home?"

I darted over to him with a large grin across my face. He had changed out of his uniform and into a plain sweatshirt and jeans. I wiped my lips with my sleeve and the crust from my eyes. It's like despite me not doing anything with Helix, I felt that just thinking about him was the equivalent to an intense make out session in the backseat. Chance stepped out the bush and pulled his ornamental wallet from his pocket.

"I have enough to refill my car to at least get you home," he said, shifting through a stack of five dollar bills, "I'll find another way for me."

"How'd you know I came here?" I asked.

"Helix texted me."

"Awesome. I needed someone to talk to, anyway."

I pinched his sleeve and directed him behind me. The lobby, to put it simply, reminded me of a courtroom because of how dim and uptight it was. Plenty of fake flowers and elevators at every turn. As Chance went to check us at the reception desk, I sat down at one of the polished wooden tables in the corner. Where the crud piled up and the lights flickered when I actually attended class. Far across the room, one of the elevators opened. Out came Helix, wearing a black T-shirt and those obnoxious skinny jeans and holding a thermos. I could smell his cologne from yards away. He approached my table and sat across from me. He struggled to keep his eyes open and sounded like he was muttering a curse under his breath. The smell of alcohol emitted from the thermos, forcing me to pull my shirt up over my nose.