Within/Without

chapter fifty-four.

Simon - April 2022

The air is cool and sharp in my lungs as I inhale, humidity clinging to the back of my neck. Gray clouds suffuse into the sky like flavor from a tea bag, and as I lift my head, glancing above me, I suddenly regret deciding to walk. Everywhere smells like it's about to rain or like it's just rained, yellow headlights splitting through the fog. I drown myself in the sounds of the city: high-heeled boots and polished loafers against the sidewalk, car horns and revving engines, people shouting from shop windows to Come here, take a look. Doors open and shut. Steam hisses from the sewers. Somewhere ahead of me, a ship blares as it comes into port.

The phone against my ear is slick with my sweat by now. It's starting to warm up, a little—the temperatures reaching a crisp, mid to high fifties range now—and the humidity is following with it. The first raindrop kisses my nose as Val says into my ear, "Who did you tell me to write down, again? Sorry. Charlie's watching Veggie Tales and I absolutely cannot focus."

"You're babysitting again?"

"Jo has an important presentation," Val says, in a way that makes me think that the presentation is not that important at all.

"Oh, I see," I say, making a right on Bowdoin, past the corner store I occasionally buy candy from when I'm craving it. Anything gummy and sour, usually. Sometimes chocolate. Dark, though. Never milk or white. "So I said...I said we have to have Ms. Quang on there—"

"Um, who?"

"Rebecca Quang. My old high school counselor? The one I told you about, who figured out I was a shapeshifter and everything?"

"Oh, right." There's a pause; I hear a bit of ferocious scribbling. "Okay. Ms. Quang, and who else?"

"My college advisor, too. Mr. Ripley. I just want to rub it in his face that my life isn't the dumpster fire he thought it would be."

"Fair," Val agrees. "I said Rita already, right?"

"Yes," I assure. "You said Caz, too, but I'm not sure how I feel about that."

Val sighs. "We'll talk about it later. Anyone else?"

Of course there is someone else. There is someone else who has been missing for three years, who gave up everything just so I'd have a chance at life again. There is someone else who I want more than anything to apologize to, to talk to, to thank. But that is the thing about people who go missing. Sometimes, they don't come back.

His name is on the tip of my tongue, but I don't say it. "None that I can think of, specifically. But Abbie will want to bring her friends, and so will Noah, so we should account for that."

"Yessir. Are you on your way home?"

"Yes. I'm walking."

She makes a strange, annoyed noise in the back of her throat. It's a scoff, I think, but it's the most dramatic scoff I've ever heard. Val never ceases to surprise me. "You idiot. It's gonna start pouring soon. You should stop somewhere and wait it out; I don't want you getting sick."

If I had a quarter for all the times Val has said that to me, I'd be a very rich man. Truth is, even when she kissed me that day and promised that this changes nothing, my dance with death had indeed changed something. My family and everyone tiptoes around it, but I know they're all watching—waiting to see if I'll fall again, if my newfound health is just a facade, if there was a catch to the antidote Noah shoved down my throat.

I want to say there isn't anymore. That the catch is the new face that took months for me to get used to. But how would I know, really? Everything is an educated guess. Everything.