Sugar & Squall (6 page)

I’d been avoiding making direct eye contact with people my whole life, but I’d been caught out here. As he looked at me, I was kind of glad of it. Contacts were useless now. He’d seen the real me.

I’d almost forgotten what I’d asked when he answered.

“I run and do the usual stuff. I like to swim, but nothing competitive.”

I wanted to tell him that ‘yeah, you must work out’ and how fit he was, but I didn’t reply, which compelled him to go on.

“I like running because it’s just me, you know?”

I nodded once.

“There’s something about running that’s more purposeful. It’s not… showy.”

“Yeah, I know.”
Ah, no.
You don’t.
“So you’ve never won any trophies or anything?”

He rubbed the edge of the plate with his finger.
“Just one, for marksmanship.”

I almost choked.
“Shooting?”

“
Yeah, professionally, you know?”

Something was telling me to run, but I stayed fixed to the spot. “You hunt?”

He looked confused. “No, it’s just for… sport. I sound stupid. I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“It’s okay, and you don’t sound stupid,” I said, almost reaching out.

I saw him flinch away.

Against better judgment,
I shifted the subject back to the obvious. “Any more theories on where everyone’s gone?”

He l
ooked to the back of the room. “I honestly don’t know. It’s weird. Everyone’s here one day and gone the next. They could have been evacuated, but from what? It just doesn’t add up,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no
sense
to it.”

He paused. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know either,” I replied, then, as if to build up some intelligence, “but it’s not normal. People don’t just disappear, and there’s all this stuff lying around randomly, broken windows, doors, the mess. It doesn’t fit together. So I guess we just sit tight. The ferry will be here on the weekend, and we’re not short of food.”

Logan nodded.
“You’re right. We’ll sit tight, wait it out.”

I
didn’t reply, so we sat in silence again. I used the time to admire him out of my peripheral vision. While I had to make do with a somewhat incomplete view given my hair was sheeted between us, it wasn’t hard to understand why he was so universally appealing to girl-kind.

P
ressed down upon the tabletop, his arms were steady and solid. He was sitting straight with perfect posture, his shoulders pushed back and his stomach gently sending his T-shirt in and out like a sail. Just above, I noticed his heartbeat was elevated, hammering away under his clothing.

I kept my eyes moving upwards, to his face, and there was not one thing I would have seen fit to change. His eyes flicked sideways, met mine and we both looked away. It was my heart that pounded now, though looking dead ahead, he’d never know.  

It was clear wherever it was everyone had gone they wouldn’t be back tonight, but it bit at us both. Everything we did, every minute we spent together, seemed overshadowed by it.

Oddly, the more time I spent with Logan, the more relaxed I felt, even amid a situation as strange as this. There was something halcyon about his demeanor. I
wanted
to be around him. That was new to me, uncharted territory. But
should
I be around him? Was he dangerous? That was the question.

He was so hard to pick. He still seemed to have his defenses up. Every time I tried to pull closer mentally or physically he’d pull away – not that I was any good at flirting, socializing even.

How can you even be thinking about stuff like that at a time like this?
I reminded myself.

I took a shower while Logan stood guard outside. I was glad of it. The few times I’d been in here it’d been bursting at its tiled seams with girls clawing each others’ eyes out to get a spot at the sink or showers. Yesterday morning, hair-straighteners running at full power had filled the air with an aroma something like freshly pressed linen. Tonight, it smelt of nothing at all.

I stood by myself with the pick of everything. The water was warm. For that I was thankful ten times over. I didn’t want to leave him out there, so I reluctantly made it short, dried down, threw one of Jemma’s gowns over myself – share alike and all that – and walked back out into the hall, my hair heavy and damp behind me.

Logan
sat against the wall flicking his thumbs over each other. He looked up at me.

“Good?”

“Yeah, water’s warm” I replied. “You want one?” I motioned back into the bathroom.

“I’m fine.” He must have realized this implied ‘…with being dirty’, so added, “I shower in the morning. That’s all.”

“Suit yourself,” I said, heading back down to the room. Uninvited, he followed, again standing to attention outside while I changed into my pajamas.

I called him in when I was done. He sat on Jemma’s bed motionless, like a lost little schoolboy that had somehow stumbled into entirely the wrong room.

“It’s a lot cleaner than the one I’m in,” he said, admiring the floor, the ceiling and walls.

Someone’s uniform was crumpled up beneath the window. It really did look like they’d been standing there and ‘poof’, disappeared forever, leaving nothing but a skirt, socks and a sleeveless jumper.

Logan looked over things. He flattened out the bed beneath him with his hand and studied Jemma’s belongings. None of my roommates would have ever expected a guy in here. I had a little laugh to myself when Logan immediately diverted his eyes from the packet of crayon-colored tampons sitting proudly on Jemma’s dresser. She’d drop dead if she knew.

Now he was looking around lucidly as if following a fly, careful not to rest for too long on any one particular spot should it hold another girly surprise. “I guess you guys weren’t expecting company.”

“Not exactly,” I said, combing out my hair. It caught on the ends. I roughly yanked it through.

Logan looked at me like I’d just run a razor down my arm. “Jesus, doesn’t that hurt?”

“Kind of,” I answered, dragging out the knots, my other hand pulling it tight together above.

“Why do you do it, torture yourselves like this?” he asked, picking up an eyelash curler.

“I don’t know. I guess we just want to look good. Besides, my hair looks stupid when it’s not straight.”

“I think it looks fine,” he said, eyes averted.

That caught me out. “Trust me,” I said, “if you saw me in the morning you wouldn’t think so.”

“I beg to differ,” he said, standing up. “Ask any guy and he’ll tell you girls always look their best when they just wake up. We like things messy.”

“I got that,” I said, thinking back to the boys’ dorm. I decided to throw the big question out there, concentrating on my hair and trying to make it as casual as possible.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He went back to rolling his thumbs over each other, continuing his browsing. “Not at the moment, no.”

“You’ve had girlfriends in the past?”

“Kind of. Not really.”

“You? Boyfriends, that is.”

“Nothing steady.”

“Older or younger?”

“Same age.”

“Same school?”

“Yeah.”

“Idiots?”

“Yeah,” I replied in enthusiasm, opening my eyes wide to nail it home.

“Pepsi or Coke then?”

“Coke.”

“Vanilla or strawberry”

“Strawberry. What is this, an inquisition?”

Logan put his hands up.

“My turn,” I said, putting down the comb and bringing my fingers up ready to tick off each question.

“Boy or girl?”

“Boy, hopefully,” he said, staring down at his crotch. I tried not to laugh.

“Um, sushi or hamburger?”

“Hamburger.”

“Solitude or sanity”

“Good one. Solitude, I guess?”

“Green or blue?”

It was a trick question, but he looked straight into my eyes when he answered. “Both.”

Something inside me skipped a beat.
It boomed in the circumstance.

We stared at each other, our eyes swimming in stalemate.
It felt so weird with the mystery at hand behind it. I had no doubt when I put my head to the pillow I’d awake to everyone and everything from the day before. All this would be lost.

“Do you want me to sleep with you?”

If I hadn’t have been so stunned I might have leaped across the room and slapped him across the face. My expression spoke louder than words. He started backpedaling fast.

“No, no, no. I mean, do you want me to sleep here tonight, with you?”

My eyebrows pointed directly into the center of my face with a look I imagined would probably have frozen fire itself. Now he was sweating.

“That’s not what I meant.” He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. His next words were slow and measured. “I meant to say I can sleep in the room next door, you know, if you don’t want to be alone. I didn’t mean here, with
you, us… I’m just going to shut up.”

I’d never been good with the male population as a whole. I’d somehow skipped that chapter of life, so my humble attempt here to drag this out, to not give up that ‘yes, I know you have only good intentions at heart’ flopped spectacularly. I caved in.

“That would be nice – you next door.”

His eyes arched over sideways. I did the very same thing when confronted with a situation like this.

“Right then,” he said. “That was awkward. I’ll be next door if you need me. I’m kind of hoping everything doesn’t go straight back to normal, because I’m going to have a very hard time explaining how I ended up in the girls’ dorm if everyone reappears tomorrow.”

On that note, he turned his back and walked out, pulling the door behind him but not closing it fully. I slipped into bed.

Right on schedule, the lights went out ten minutes later.

I couldn’t sleep.
It was too weird. Everyone had literally vanished into thin air. Scenarios, black and morbid, played out in my head. I pictured ghosts dragging them into the water, pulling them under. They’d left in a hurry, of that I was sure.

When I could take it no longer, I thought of Logan instead.

Only a single wall separated me and the hottest guy here; the only guy here. But why him and not one of the other countless guys at Carver? Maybe that’s how it was meant to be. My luck had taken a turn at Spooky Town and we’d been stuck here together.

He was so strange, though. One minute he was laughing with me, asking questions and the next he’d be marble cold, completely walled up and protective. He was so familiar, too. There were moments when I felt I’d known him all my life, and vice-versa. Why did it have to be such a damn puzzle?

Make the most of it,
I told myself, and why not? Who was to say any of the other girls here were better than me?

I collected these ideas in my head along with Logan, and there in the darkness of it all was
strange comfort. Alone, but not, all at once. I fell asleep.

#

It started as it always did. She was speaking directly to me, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“What?” I said, cupping my ear. “I can’t hear you.”

She continued, yelling now, aggressive, but still I could not understand anything that was coming out of her mouth.

She pushed me. I pushed her back. She pushed again. I lashed out
with my fist. And before I knew it she was falling back through the window, her pixie face filled with terror.

The others were staring at me. They were
holding things – rulers, schoolbags, bats. They came closer and there was no way out. They were hitting me and I was screaming, my lungs aching with the effort of it.

I was sitting bolt upright in bed. I could feel cold perspiration all over my body. Somebody was there in the shadows and I screamed harder and harder until it hurt. The figure moved forward and I saw it was Logan. There was a kind of terror on his face too, but he had his arms out and palms open. Calm came to me, my head hit the pillow and I found sleep once more.

5. CLINICAL DEATH

I awoke especially groggy. My head was dull, as if someone had spent the night tapping it with a rubber mallet, and it was bright,
way
too bright.

As my vision came into focus, I noticed Logan’s head buried in Jemma’s pillow beside me. The pillow was a pastel purple color and looked like it had no place cradling something so inherently masculine.

I lifted my head from my own pillow, supporting it with my left arm, and admired him. At first it didn’t even occur to me we were still the only ones in the room.

He was wearing the same shirt, but his arm was wrapped around the pillow so it was sideways against his body and head, a cotton lover.

He had an athletic build. Toned, but not overly so, his skin a warm olive. His face was solid, but soft, with those high cheekbones. It gave him an air of maturity. In truth, he hardly looked his age at all.

In the one day he’d been on the island every girl at Carver wanted him. That had been made quite clear during what short time I had spent with them. Yet here I was. I’d had a whole day alone with him and nothing had come of it. Not a pinch of the ass,
peck on the cheek. Nada.

Okay, so I was, by my own admission, useless at reading the opposite sex. It was so much easier to just sit there and stare at his lips just parted and his eyes tucked away.

I remembered then why we were here alone, the disappearance. My stomach twisted.

Logan’s eyes
opened suddenly.

“Hey.” His voice was extra-deep, rough.

I brought my hand up to my pajama-top to push my heart back into my chest.

“You scared me.”

He pushed up himself up, rubbing his eyes free of sleep-dust.

“We’re even then.”

“Oh, how’s that?”

“You woke me up in the middle of the night screaming. I thought you were having a seizure.”

I rarely remembered nightmares. They only ever revolved around one subject anyway. As such, I was never quite sure of what happened to me physically in those wee hours before dawn.

“I was screaming?”

“Your lungs out. I came in from next door. It was easier to sleep here.”

“I can see that.”

The strap on one of Jemma’s bras had caught behind his sleeve. It swung there in the triangle of space he’d created between his arm and body, its bright purple hue in defiance to the dreary blue of his shirt.

He looked down between his arm, saw the offending garment and flung it against the wall like it was a hot coal.

“Why does everything have to be so damn girly around here,” he exclaimed, holding up Jemma’s Betty Boo quilt as Exhibit B.

“Hmm, let me think about that. Maybe because this is the
girls’ dorm
.” Sarcasm was natural, easy.

“You don’t say. Well, at least it doesn’t smell, and this pillow is quite comfy.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I said. “Everyone might come running through that door soon, or maybe they’re right there, outside. You’ll look quite the fool.”

“And you won’t?”

“Hey, I’m just sleeping in
my
bed in
my
assigned room. You’re an intruder for all I know.”

“Well, this intruder is going to go and have a shower.”

“Ditto, I never let anyone see me like this.”

“Like what?”

“You know, all morning and everything.”

“You look fine.”

“Thanks.” I tried to manage as much sincerity as I could, but my hair fell down in front of my face greasy, tangled together and with all the glamour of a gorilla. I kept as much of myself undercover as possible.

I looked out the windows, searched the hall and nearby rooms, but no one was around – Groundhog Day.

I couldn’t suppress then the panic that started to rise up inside me. It came with questions, thick and overwhelming. I quashed the feeling down as best I could, reminding myself I was not alone.

Logan
left for the boys’ dorm, agreeing to come right back and alert me if he saw anyone on the way. I got up and had a quick shower in the bathroom at the end of the hall, opting for a light outfit of fresh skinny-leg jeans, a top and a loose black jacket.

We had agreed to meet back in th
e dining hall at eight and cover the few areas we hadn’t already searched. After another three hours going up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, however, everything was just as it was yesterday, completely unchanged.

Another walk around the perimeter of the school failed to shed light on the mystery. We found the school’s satellite dish. It looked fine bar the box at the base, which was blackened and charred. Logan
hypothesized it may have been struck by lightning earlier.

After we worked out neither of us had degrees in electrical engineering, we ruled out trying to repair it lest we ourselves be barbequed. The rest of the school was fine, just empty, a stone shell.

The weather took a turn for the worse. The wind picked up substantially when we came back outside after a paltry lunch of potato salad. It beat its way through the trees and howled up the hillside. Clouds came together further away, conspiring, and given their color the outcome was unlikely to be pleasant.

We’d agree to give up searching, but I suggested a walk towards the back of the island, more for fresh air than anything else.
Logan had lost some of his fire and determination from the day before, instead walking now and watching his step as we headed down towards the beach.

I head him cry out behind me. I turned and ran to his side, fearing the worst.

He was holding his ankle.

I crouched down, examining it. “Shit, you okay?”

“It’s nothing. I just twisted it a bit. Really, I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

I nodded, thankful, and kept moving.

We passed the rat’s nest. Even in daylight it was hard to see and definitely much bigger than I’d figured two nights ago.

“Do you think it’s deep?” I blurted out.

It was hard to gauge, especially since I cautiously stood a good yard or two from the edge, but twenty yards or more seemed about right. There were sticks at the bottom, bits of metal and scrap, a bottle or two.

“Maybe,” Logan replied, “but I don’t think you’ll find five-hundred students at the bottom.”

I gave him a mock smile.

That fateful night came back to me when we hit the crest to the beach. I shivered at the thought of what might have happened and again at not knowing fully what did happen – to me, to everyone.

We’d come over the hill right where I’d sat with Xavier. The beer cans were still there and I kicked one with everything I had, sending it sailing and twisting with the wind.

I sat with Logan on the rocks. Again, he acted like I was medical waste, carefully distancing himself. Wind whipped at my face, tangling my hair in knots behind me. I didn’t care.

Further out to sea there was an intensely dark mass drawing closer.

“It’s a squall,” Logan
said. “It looks serious, but we’ll be fine inside.”

He threw the other can down to the beach. We both watched it tumble down the rocks onto the sand.

“I hear they come in the winter mostly,” he said. “Some of the guys were saying it’s a bad stretch of ocean for ships. Most steer clear of the island. There’s a bunch of shipwrecks over near that chapel, they said. There are bits and pieces of them at the bottom of the cliff.”

He sent a shell spiraling off a rock with a flick of his thumb.

“Do you like them, the other guys here?” I asked.

He ran his palm over the stubble on his chin. “I only had a day with them, but they’re not bad, just normal teenagers. I don’t know. I’ve always preferred to do things alone.”

He seemed to reflect on this before turning my way. “I like company. Don’t get me wrong, but it’s good to have time to do what you want sometimes.”

I didn’t really know how to take it. Was he implying he’d rather be stuck here alone? Did he wish I’d been whisked away with everyone else, too?

Reading me, he added, “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“You’re glad you’re here?”

I laughed. “You know what I mean.”

I stretched my legs out in front of me. The denim in the legs pulled straight.

“We should go back,” I said. “Hurricane Katrina’s coming in fast.”

“You’re right,” he replied, standing up and brushing sand off before offering me a hand. “Come on.”

I took it and he pulled me up before releasing my hand just as quick. I stuffed it into my sweater pocket still warm from his touch.

Dinner was less of an event than lunch. We stuck another lasagna slab in the microwave until it seemed about right. Logan promised me he’d cook something proper if this continued, but it was late and we were both thrashed from tramping about the island and coming up empty-handed.

People always tend to go straight back to the same desk in a classroom or the same chair at a table, even if they don’t consciously decide to; something about sticking to what you know. I’d read that somewhere and always tried since to mix it up in a small attempt to be just that little bit unpredictable.

I hadn’t objected, however, when Logan took us back to that same table in the middle of the dining hall where I’d sat with the girls discussing boys, blowjobs and my embarrassingly sad love life.

The lasagna was a little Antarctic in the middle, but eatable. I managed to get through half of it before surrendering my fork to the plate.

I mused that if anyone were to find us we’d look like an old couple sitting together at the table, keeping our manners in check and politely asking each other to pass the salt.

I scanned the hall windows often, looking for faces, apparitions – anything.

Afterwards, we retreated back to my room. The lights would be on for another two or three hours, so we made do with a pack of cards I’d found lying in the hall. A few hands later my go-fish skills, or lack thereof, had been laid out – literally – for all to see. I threw myself back onto my bed while Logan paced the room with his hands behind his back.

“It’s not a museum, you know.” I said, conversing with the roof.

“I know,” he replied. “I just find it all interesting.”

“Our things?”

“Sure. For example, Jemma, right? She’s into all this cartoon stuff. It’s like everything she owns has a character on it. It’s, you know, cool in a way… cute.”

“You think she’s cute?”

Gotcha.

That caught him. Clearly he didn’t know how to respond, starting with an extra-long ‘um’, his hands turning in themselves behind his back. “She’s not really my type.”

I had to be careful. “Soooo, what
is
your type?”

Well done.

He paused at a pair of cotton panties prostrate on the carpet “I don’t know. Someone’s who’s unique, independent, not just another D&G clone.”

I didn’t reply.

He picked up a snow-globe that was sitting on a shelf, flipping it over.

“I can’t believe everyone’s still missing,” he continued. “To be honest, I was expecting some boat or ferry to show up today and give us some answers. Now nothing will approach the island until this storm passes over. And that might be days.”

I let myself fall backwards onto the bed. “An evacuation. That has to be it.”

“F
rom what?”

“The storm, maybe? You said it looked pretty bad.”

Logan continued pacing. “Maybe.”

Right then the rain and wind really started belting down, rocking the window on its hinges and painting the glass solid with droplets.

I watched it, hypnotized, for some time.

“What’s this?” Logan said, having moved over towards my bed.

In his hand was my diary, opened up to the page with the DNB list. There was nothing on the cover to indicate it was a diary, so I couldn’t really blame him for curiosity. One of those bitches must have left it there out in the open. My face flushed red. I wanted to spontaneously combust.

Sensing this, he tried to placate me. “No, no, I like it. It’s great. I write lists too. All the time. I’ve got one just like this.”

“It’s stupid,” I said, sitting to snatch the book out of his hands and giving him my back. “It’s not like I’m ever going to cross them off or go through with them. They’re just,” I searched for the word, “symbolic.”

He came around in front of me.

“It’s not stupid,” he said. “It’s so… you.”

“Me? You don’t even know me,” I protested.

“You’d be surprised,” he laughed, turning away for a moment and then back, his eyes boring into me.

“I know I’ve been, how to say it, ‘hot and cold’. I’m sorry. You’ve got to understand I’m in a weird position here. We both are.
I don’t think either of us are really ourselves at the moment.”