The Cupid War (8 page)

14

F
allon, you jerk!” Trina cried, covering herself with her arms while simultaneously reaching down for her towel. “Get out of here, you sicko!”

“I'm so sorry!” Fallon slapped a hand over his eyes at last. “I was just … I mean, I didn't know this was … ”

“Get out!” Trina screamed, snatching up her towel and wrapping herself up in one swift motion. Then she turned and bolted from the shower room.

“What's her problem?” one of the girls asked, turning off her shower and reaching for a towel.

“Haven't you heard?” said another as she rinsed conditioner from her blond hair. “She sees dead people.”

“You mean like the kid in that movie?” asked a Japanese girl.

“That's what she says,” said the blonde. “I say she's a freak.”

“Oh, that's original,” Fallon said. He knew he should leave, but he had to try and straighten things out. He had the distinct impression that Trina was not part of the in crowd. And he'd just made things worse.

He crossed the shower room and entered the changing room, keeping his hand over his eyes and taking quick peeks to see where he was going. There were a few girls in the room in various states of undress, and Fallon tried very hard not to look at them.

Trina was standing alone in the corner, already half dressed. Fallon approached slowly, trying to think of how to apologize.

“Go away,” she said without turning, as she threw on her shirt.

“I'm not looking,” Fallon said. “I'm really sorry. I was in there by accident, I swear.”

“Oh, bull!” Trina said, turning to face the sound of his voice. “You just ‘accidentally' ended up in a room full of naked teenage girls?”

“Who's she talking to?” a girl asked.

“Keep your voice down!” Fallon said. “The other girls think you're nuts.”

“They … do not,” Trina said, suddenly aware of how many eyes were on her.

“I was just … ” she said to them, then turned around awkwardly and sat down on a bench. The other girls stared a few moments longer, then went back to their hushed whispers.

“Freak,” one whisperer said, just loud enough.

“Look.” Fallon squatted next to the bench. “It was stupid of me to go in there. I wasn't thinking.”

Trina said nothing. Which, Fallon thought, was probably for the best. He stood up and turned to leave, and that was when he saw the seven girls from the showers standing there. They were still naked and carried their towels in their hands.

“Hey, Trina!” the blond one said, and all seven girls threw their towels over their heads like ghostly hoods.

Trina made the mistake of looking. All seven girls shook their towels and went, “Oooooh!” like B-movie phantoms.

Trina stood up, pushed her way through them and ran for the doorway. The girls laughed, and Fallon made a mental note to deny them love for as long as they lived.

He chased after Trina, but he didn't have to go far. A large gorilla in a tracksuit—the gym teacher, Fallon guessed—had stopped her at the changing room doors.

“This hair looks dry,” the gorilla said, grabbing a handful of Trina's hair. “Did you shower?”

“I don't have time, Miss Labonski,” Trina said. “I have to get to my next class.”

“You know the rules,” the gym teacher said. “Back you go. Take your shower.”

“But … ” Trina protested.

“Go!” Miss Labonski barked, and Trina went back in.

Fallon made a rude gesture at the gym teacher's face, then turned and followed Trina.

All the girls went silent as Trina re-entered the changing room. As soon as she reached her spot in the far corner, the hushed whispers continued.

“I didn't mean for this to happen,” Fallon told her.

“Skip it,” she mumbled back. “It's just high school.”

The other girls finished changing and began filing out. Trina undressed slowly, waiting for the others to leave.

“I'm gonna go,” Fallon told her. “I don't want to embarrass you any further. I do need to talk to you, though. Can you meet me later?”

“Sure,” she said. “Meet me after school.”

“You got it,” Fallon said, and he left the changing room. He was halfway across the gym when he saw one of the other girls talking with a beefy jock in shorts and a T-shirt. More boys came from the changing room across the gym—clearly it was time for their Phys Ed class.

Fallon approached the girl and boy. She'd been one of Trina's tormentors and didn't deserve what he was about to do, but Fallon needed more Love and this was too good to pass up. He put his hands into their hearts and felt mutual interest. Perfect. He zapped them both, and smiled when their eyes widened ever so slightly.

“To the happy couple!” Fallon cried, raising a mock glass in a toast to the rest of the gym.

Which was why he saw the black form slithering into the girls' changing room.

“Suicide!” Fallon cried, and charged after it. There was an already very miserable girl in the changing room.

Fallon ran through the wall in time to see the Suicide enter the showers. Terrific, he thought, but he knew he could not stop.

Trina was standing under a nozzle at the room's far end. The Suicide made straight for her, and Trina spun around and covered up.

She senses us, Fallon thought as he closed in on his prey.

“Trina, it's a Suicide!” he yelled. “Duck!”

Trina ducked. The Suicide spun around and had just enough time to register surprise before Fallon plowed into it, driving it over Trina's head and through the wall.

He immediately realized his mistake. A physical attack on a Suicide was stupid; any contact with it would only harm himself. He could feel the cold hand of despair clutching his soul even as he shoved the dark creature away.

They landed in the school's main lobby on the other side of the wall. The Suicide regained its feet first; Fallon was slowed down by depression. The creature lunged for him, but Fallon got his hands up in time.

“Back of
f
!” he shouted, blasting the Suicide with a full burst of Love. The creature fell back and Fallon managed a smile. He was going to kick this thing's ass!

And then his Love ran out. Fallon felt the most intense hunger of his life and afterlife, even as his fingers stopped their barrage. He also felt exhausted, in no shape whatsoever to continue the fight.

The Suicide, who had thrown its arms up in a defensive posture, lowered them slowly. Then it smiled.

It knows, Fallon thought. And he turned to run.

15

F
allon ran across the school's main foyer, the Suicide ri
ght behind him. His only hope was to get back to the Cupid Center, where the Suicide wouldn't be able to follow. Then he could eat some Love and come back to kick i
ts depression-sowing butt.

If he made it back.

Fallon raised his hand and was halfway through opening the portal when the Suicide caught him. He fell to the floor, the dark creature on his back, trying to fight it off. It was hopeless; for every second the Suicide remained attached to him, Fallon's will slipped away. Deep sadness filled him, made him weak.

I'm done, Fallon thought. He was dying a second time, and this time felt worse. He realized he'd gotten to like being a Cupid, even thought he was getting good at it. Now he'd never know how good he might have been …

Something slammed into them, flinging both Fallon and the Suicide backward across the foyer. Fallon landed on his back and his head fell to the right, so he was able to see two Cupids running toward him.

I've been rescued, he thought. Yay. Fallon thought he should be more excited, but the attack had left him emotionally numb.

One of the Cupids leapt over Fallon and chased after the Suicide. The second one stopped and knelt at Fallon's side. He recognized him; it was Owen, who he'd stolen from the last time a Suicide had attacked him.

“Are you okay?” Owen asked, looking at Fallon closely. “Oh, it's you.”

“Hi, Owen,” Fallon replied without enthusiasm. “Thanks for the
rescue.”

“You can thank Jada for that,” Owen said, all concern gone from his face. “Can you move?”

“I don't know,” Fallon said.

“Get yourself back and eat some Love,” Owen said. “We've got a Suicide to catch.”

He ran off and vanished through the nearest wall. Fallon tried to get up, then lay back down again.

Lying down felt good. His Cupid body didn't need to sleep, but Fallon had fond memories of slumber and felt sure a good rest would solve all his problems. Unless Louis came and saw him. Boy, he'd really tear him a new one! It wouldn't matter to him at all that Fallon was the victim of a Suicide …

Fallon struggled, groaned, forced himself to sit up. He felt knocked out because of a Suicide, he wanted to sleep because of a Suicide, and he'd died because of a Suicide. He'd be damned if he'd let a Suicide have the last laugh.

Of course, that was easier said than done. He tried to stand but could not, so he started crawling. It wasn't as hard as he'd feared, and gave him the first glimmerings of hope.

And then, someone stepped in him. The foot landed squarely in his back; the walker stopped suddenly, and Fallon felt the familiar feelings of gloom overtaking him.

It's the Suicide, he thought, looking over his shoulder. It
wasn't
the Suicide, he noted with wide-eyed shock.

It was Susan Sides.

“No … ” Fallon gasped.

She looked down at him. She squinted at first, but then her eyes widened. She smiled. There was recognition in her eyes, and not a little bit of pleasure.

She remembers me, Fallon thought, and he tried to crawl away. It was like dragging a sack of bricks through glue now, and the despair was getting worse. Still, he managed to pull himself away from her foot, and as soon as he did, the depression flow stopped.

But Susan was on to him now. She took another step and planted both feet through him, and Fallon lost the ability to move.

She had him. And she was going to destroy him again. Fallon felt his world dropping off, the way he'd dropped off the Pape Street Bridge that fateful day. He felt as if he were tumbling down a dark hole, or perhaps the world was falling up and away, stranding him in blackness. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, could barely think, and hope and happiness were gone forever …

“Young lady! What are you doing out of class?”

Fallon's closed eyes were too heavy to open, but he heard loud footsteps approaching. He couldn't believe his luck; someone had caught Susan skipping!

“I was just going to the bathroom, Mr. Mehta,” Susan said.

“You and I both know that's nowhere around here,” Mr. Mehta said, his lightly accented voice sounding more amused than off-put. “Come on now, your principal wasn't born yesterday, you know. Where are you supposed to be?”

“English class,” Susan said.

Just take her away
, Fallon thought.

“Then that is where you need to be,” Mr. Mehta said. “Come along now.”

“But I … ” Susan began, staring down at Fallon. “I was … ”

“I can't have students roaming the hallways during class time,” Mr. Mehta said as he gently but firmly led Susan away. “If I did, you wouldn't learn anything, and then where would we be?”

Susan cast one last glance over her shoulder at Fallon, giving him a look that promised things between them weren't over. At that point, Fallon couldn't have cared less. Emotionally he was a non-entity, and his mind was almost numb. He lay unmoving on the floor, his eyes fixed on the corridor Susan and the principal had gone down, and his world was nothing except the images he saw. He took in every detail of the hallway doors, of the walls around it, of the soft drink dispenser next to them. However, none of those details mattered in the slightest.

A tiny part of him wondered if he was still alive.

Time passed. How much, he couldn't be certain. Eventually he saw a pair of pink-clad feet appear in front of him, then another pair; Owen and Jada, he guessed. The two Cupids talked, and the feet walked out of his view just before he felt hands lifting him in the air. Owen and Jada slung Fallon's arms over their shoulders and began walking forward. Fallon's head faced downward and his neck had no strength, so all he saw was floor.

They left the school, and then they were back in the Cupid Center; Fallon saw the pavement of the school walkway change to the familiar white flooring. That flooring went by for a short while, then they crossed a threshold into a room.

A new pair of hands took hold of Fallon and guided him gently down onto a small platform a meter off the floor. Fallon found himself looking up as he was laid down on his back. He saw Jada's face, looking down on him with genuine concern. Owen stood next to her, staring down at him with disdain.

What's his problem, Fallon wondered, before realizing he really didn't care.

A new face entered his field of vision, an old yet wise face that regarded him kindly. He's my friend, Fallon thought, then realized he didn't care about that, either.

The man with the kind face went away. Jada said something to him and took her hand off his arm—Fallon didn't remember her placing her hand there—then she too turned and left. Owen was long gone.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. And time began to pass.

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