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Authors: Tom Reynolds

Meta (2 page)

BOOK: Meta
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"Would you relax already? What are you so afraid of that I'm going to say?" he asks.

  
"Uhh, probably something along the lines of 'Hey, Sarah, did you know that Connor is insanely in love with you even though he'll never admit it?' like you did literally two weeks ago in front our entire social studies class." I reply.

  
"Those were crazy times, Connor. I've grown a lot as a person since then. You should know that," he replies.

  
He hasn't, but still, if there's a chance Sarah's going to be there, it might just be worth the risk of public humiliation.

CHAPTER TWO

"How far is this thing? We've been walking for thirty minutes now," I complain to Jim.

  
"Are you going to be like this the entire time? Unless you've forgotten, it's not exactly legal to throw an underage kegger in the woods. Everyone got busted a few weeks ago so they had to move it. We're almost there," Jim tells me.

  
Jim has had his head down for at least the last ten minutes now, fixated on his smartphone screen. We're following the tiny pulsating blue dot to the party of the century. Somehow, I have a feeling that I am going to be disappointed.

  
"Stop making that face," Jim says without looking up from his phone.

  
"What face? I'm not making any face," I say.

  
"The pissed off, 'I'd rather be anywhere on Earth but here' face. I don't need to look at you right now to tell that you've got it on," he says.

  
"How much further?" I ask.

  
"Are we there yet? I have to go potty!" Jim mocks. "Wait, do you hear that?"

  
We stop in our tracks and can hear the distant pumping of bass and what sounds like the chattering of a crowd. It's the party, and it can't be far from where we are.

  
"Come on," Jim says as he begins hurrying his pace.

  
We reach the party and while it pains me to admit it to Jim, he's right. This is no middle of the woods kegger. This is a full blown rave. What Jim's confidential party sources didn't inform him about; was that this is actually the party of Adam Felder, a graduating senior and the spoiled son of very rich, and also very absentee parents.

  
There were strobe lights, (cold) beer and an actual honest-to-God DJ. Adam and his rich buddies had hitched a generator to one of their ATVs and brought all of this stuff out into the woods yesterday to begin setting up. No wonder it was set so deep. Any closer to civilization and the cops were certain to have found it. One thing was for sure: this was definitely not my scene, nor do I belong here.

  
"Calm down man, it's fine. The entire school is here. Grab a beer and relax! It's summertime!" Jim tries to convince me.

  
"Hey! Ralph! Ralph! I can't believe it, that's Ralph! We went to kindergarten together! This is crazy. Ralph!" Jim yells above the thumping music as he wanders off.

  
Great. Now I'm completely alone at a party I'm not even invited to.

  
"Where's your friends, Professor No-Friends?" A voice behind me asks. Thirty seconds into this party, and I'm already about to get bullied. Even better. I swing around with half a "just leave me alone" already loaded into the barrel of the proverbial comeback gun when I see who said it. It's Sarah. And she's smiling. I'm immediately and completely dumbfounded by just how absolutely adorable she is when she smiles. I stand there thinking about this without saying anything for what I'm sure is an uncomfortable amount of time. It was a joke, I guess?

  
"I'm just messing with you," she says.

  
It was a joke. Ha. Yes, of course.

  
"I don't think I've ever seen you out at one of these before. Didn't think they were really your thing," she tells me.

  
"Oh, well, yeah, I mean usually they're not, but you know, it's the last day of school so I figured why not mix it up a bit?" I manage to stammer out.

  
'Mix it up a bit'? Who do I think I am? I don't talk like that. I don't think anyone actually talks like that. I am officially an idiot, and my true inner idiot seems to really come out and shine whenever Sarah is around.

  
"Well it's cool that you're here! Never thought I'd see the day. Can I get you a beer or something?" she asks.

  
'Can I, Sarah Miller, get you, Conner Connolly, a beer?' I think to myself. What the hell is going on. Am I in some type of alternate universe where everything is like real life but opposite?

  
"Uh, yeah, sure," I blurt out.

  
"Cool, what do you drink?" she asks.

  
"Ah, ya know. The hard stuff," I say.

  
'The hard stuff'? I am losing my mind. What the hell does the hard stuff even mean? I've heard it in movies before, sure, but I'm not actually sure what that is. Is it more solid? Like a milkshake or something? Did I just ask her for a beer milkshake? Does that make me sound incredibly sissy?

  
"Oh, I don't know if they have any liquor here, actually," she tells me.

  
Right! Liquor. That's what the hard stuff is. I knew that.

  
"Ah, too bad. Whatever you're having is cool then," I tell her.

  
"Great, I'll be right back," she says as she walks off into the crowd.

  
Did I actually manage to sound cool just there. Maybe I did. 'I'll take whatever you're having.' That does sound pretty cool, I guess. What if what she's having is girly though? What if she comes back and hands me a pink drink in a martini glass with one of those little umbrellas in it? I can't insult her by not drinking it, can I? I guess I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

  
"What the shit do you think you're doing here?"

  
Before I even turn around, I know who the words have come from. Brad Turner. One of Adam Felder's football teammates. I don't think Brad even knows my name, but that hasn't stopped him from trying to make my life a living hell for the past year. I turn around and can tell by the way he's swaying that he's already had too much to drink.

  
"Seriously Connolly. Who do you think you are, man? Were you even invited?" He asks me.

  
Huh. He does know my name after all.

  
"It's the last day of school, I thought everyone was invited," I tell him.

  
"Everyone was invited. You're not everyone though. You're nobody, so you're not invited," he tells me in probably the most creative wordplay he's ever put together.

  
"Funny," I say.

  
"Seriously bro. You're not invited, get out of here. If Adam sees you, he's gonna flip," Brad says.

  
"It's a party in the middle of the woods. No one's supposed to be here," I say.

  
"This is your last warning, bro," he threatens.

  
I look through the crowd to see if I can spot Sarah, trying to decide which is the worse fate: leaving without even saying goodbye and looking like a total jerk, or staying so she can come back just in time to see three meatheads pummeling me. Of course, I choose the path of least embarrassment and leave with my tail between my legs.

  
Walking back through the woods, I've never felt this particular type of shame. What was I supposed to do though? Take a beating like a man? Fight back against three Neanderthals? All that would do is infuriate them more. The physical bruises I can take, but I just can't be humiliated like that in front of the entire school. Not again.

  
On my walk back, I think a lot about my parents. What they would have thought of the person their six-year-old son has become. Dad was never a fighter, but he had at least seemed to have that particular gift of charm that allowed him to talk his way out of nearly any situation. At least that's what Derrick tells me. I don't remember that type of stuff myself. All I can remember is how strong he seemed to me as a kid, like nothing could ever possibly hurt him. Not even forty-three stories of concrete and steel.

  
I like to think Mom would be proud of me, no matter what, but I know deep down that I only feel that way because she was my mom. They're supposed to be proud, even if their kid turns out to be a loser who can't even form three coherent sentences in front of a member of the opposite sex. Maybe at least, she would have been able to give me some advice about how to not simultaneously come off as both a creep and a weirdo to literally any girl I find even mildly attractive.

  
The woods seem darker now than they had when Jim and I started our trek out here. The full moon has disappeared behind the clouds. Am I even going the right way? The trees in front of me look familiar, but I suppose that's only because they are trees. All trees look familiar to if you stare at them long enough in almost, pitch-black darkness.

  
I hear something off in the distance. An animal? Yeah, probably just an animal. I remember specifically requesting reassurance from Jim that there were no bears out here.

  
I keep walking, a little bit quicker now. I hear it again. Is it human? It can't be. Maybe it is and it's just from the party. No, there's no way. The party is at least fifteen minutes in the other direction. I can't hear the music any more, so there's no way I'd be able to actually hear a person.

  
I hear the sound again. It’s a scream.

  
Okay. That is definitely a person. I can hear it more distinctly now. It was a cry. It could be one of those weird animals that sounds like a person. The way a crying cat can sometimes sound almost exactly like a baby. But it's not a cat. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

  
I don't know what I can do but I know there's one thing that I can't do, and that's live with myself if I simply ignore what is obviously the sound of someone in trouble. Maybe it's someone from the party? Maybe they're hurt? Maybe it's Sarah. Maybe she came after me once she heard I was kicked out, but fell and twisted her ankle on a dead tree branch. I could swear the party is still in the other direction, but to be honest, I'm completely turned around and really have no idea.

  
The cries are getting louder as I approach but it still seems far away. As I get closer though, I can hear words. One word in particular: "help" in between weeping. What is going on? I still can't see where the calls are coming from but I'm scared. I reach into my pocket to get my phone. There's actually a signal. This small comfort assures me, that at the very least, I'm not inside a horror film.

  
I call 911 and wait. What if I'm wrong? What if it's just someone playing a prank and now I'm the buzzkill that called the cops into the woods, who will surely find the party and at the very least, shut it down, if not arrest Adam and his friends. The thought paralyzes me for a second before I hear a click and the operator on the other end.

  
"911, what's your emergency?" The operator asks over the phone.

  
"Hi. Um, I'm not sure what my emergency is, but I'm in the woods and I can hear someone crying for help," I say into the receiver.

  
"The woods? Can you be more specific sir?" she asks.

  
"Near mile marker, forty-two on Old Brooksville Highway. Maybe about a ten minute walk north," I say.

  
"And your reason for being in the woods, sir?" she asks.

  
Damn. I hadn't thought about that.

  
"Uhh, hiking," I say.

  
"Hiking? It's nearly midnight, sir," she states plainly.

  
"Night hiking. Listen, I think this person's in trouble, you have to send someone out here," I say.

  
"Can you see where the cries for help are coming from, sir?" she asks.

  
"No, I cannot," I say.

  
"Okay sir, stay on the line please. We do have a Missing Child alert active right now in your vicinity, so we are dispatching a unit immediately," she says.

  
"How long will it be?" I ask.

  
"They are ten minutes away from your location," she tells me.

  
A blood curdling scream rips through the quiet night air. Whoever this is, they're in trouble. And they're close.

  
"Did you hear that?" I ask.

  
"No sir. Please just stay put and a unit will be there as soon as they possibly can," the operator says.

  
No way. Ten minutes just to get here by car. It'll take another five minutes on foot, even if they're running, and if they're heading in the right direction. I can't be sure of that.

  
"I have to get closer. I can't wait that long. This person sounds like they're in trouble," I tell the operator.

  
"Sir. Please. This could be a dangerous situation. I need you to stay right where you are," she says to empty air.

  
I won't be able to live with myself if there's something terrible happening down there and I did nothing to stop it. Whatever it is, I realize it's not a good idea to head down there alone with my phone making any noise. I knew I should have read those instructions and figured out how the mute function works. I reluctantly hit the End Call button and begin walking towards where I last heard the screams.

  
One thing about being quiet while walking through the woods at night: it's very hard to be quiet while walking through the woods at night. It's like every single, dry leaf and dead branch found a way to form a path exactly in the direction I am heading. I don't even actually know where I'm heading any more.

BOOK: Meta
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