Where the Staircase Ends (18 page)

“No big deal.” He explained. “Some drunken idiot knocked over a lamp. Probably thought the room was empty until they heard us and broke it on the way out.” He gave me one of his sly, half-grins. “Where were we?”

He tugged me back down on the roof, sliding his arm around me as he pulled me toward him. My head fit perfectly into the curve of his shoulder, as if we were made to fit together. I looked up at the sky and smiled, the warmth of his arms around me making me happier than I’d felt in a long time. I didn’t want the night to end.

When we finally went downstairs, the party had thinned out. The remaining revelers were trying to determine who was the least drunk and most able to drive. Justin gave me a long and lingering hug, then whispered, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” before heading out to catch a ride with Greg Younger. I thought I might float right up into the sky and join the stars.

The pool was empty when I went outside, except for a few beer cans floating in the water like buoys. I found Jenny passed out on one of the green-and-white striped lounge chairs surrounding the pool, her clothes haphazardly tossed over her and a tiny dribble of drool trailing down her chin.

“Jenny,” I said, shaking her. “Jenny, are you awake? Where’s Sunny?” She didn’t even flinch. It was like she’d been hit over the head and knocked unconscious.

Someone opened the door that lead out to the patio, and I turned to see Amber standing in the doorway with a slice of pizza in her hand.

“Sunny went inside a while ago?” she said in her familiar question-asking way as she stumbled toward me. “She was with a boy?” She looked around to make sure no one was listening and added in a whisper, “Someone said they heard noises coming from her bedroom?”

“Who’s she with?” I made a mental list of the available guys at the party. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she hooked up with someone else. It would make it easier to break the news to her about Justin. That was a conversation I was not looking forward to having. Sunny didn’t like losing, especially when it came to guys.

Amber shrugged and took another bite of her pizza, taking all of the cheese with her so that only sauce and bread remained.

“Should we try to carry Jenny inside?” I asked, jutting my chin in her direction. “She’s not going to be very happy if she wakes up outside tomorrow.”

Amber shrugged again and grabbed a wet towel off of the back of one of the lawn chairs. “We already tried to move her, but even the guys couldn’t get her to budge because she’s, like, dead weight?” She walked over toward the lawn chair Jenny was sprawled across and placed the dripping towel over the top of her. Then she nodded and gave me an I’m-so-smart look, pleased with herself for having found an alternate solution. “I’m going to bed now, okay?”

“’K,” I said. “I’ll go check on Sunny and do the same.” Jenny would be pissed as all get out when she woke up, but it could be worse. At least she didn’t break anything this time.

Sunny’s bedroom door was closed, and I could make out the muffled sounds of laughter coming through the wood. I knocked a few times and listened.

“What?” Sunny called, her voice sounding tight.

“Hey Sunny. It’s Taylor. Everything okay?”

She was silent for a few moments, and I heard the low rumble of a guy’s voice.

Finally she answered, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just don’t come in, okay?”

There was more laughter from the other side of the door. I rolled my eyes, knowing when I wasn’t wanted.

Of course I was super curious to know who was with her. Outside of Justin, she hadn’t mentioned interest in anyone in a while. But it wouldn’t be the first time Sunny came back from The Fields with a new boyfriend. There was the PDA session with Greg Younger, the post-party hook-up with Jackson Terris (super-hot senior who dumped her for a cheerleader), and of course Mark Schroen. They were together for the entire summer after they hooked up in the back of his Jeep at The Fields’ makeshift parking lot. In fact, maybe it was Mark. She was perched on his shoulders the last time I saw her, and they seemed pretty cozy. More important was the fact that it wasn’t Justin, because Justin liked me.

“Justin likes me,” I whispered out loud, trying out the words to see how they felt. I smiled so hard it felt like my grin might pop off of my face.

I went back into the Africa room and climbed into the bed on the opposite wall from the broken lamp, avoiding any glass that may have fallen into the other twin bed. The covers felt cool and inviting, and I let out a long, exhausted sigh. On a whim, I checked my cell phone and saw one missed text message. I didn’t think it was possible, but I smiled even bigger when I saw it was from Justin.

Justin: GNite Sweet Taylor

I could have died right then and there because I was so happy. In hindsight, it seemed silly to have wished for something so finite on a night that felt so full of possibilities. But of course no one ever believes they’re actually going to die when they think things like that. I certainly didn’t.

SIGNS OF LIFE

One thousand steps. I never really thought about how high up in the sky I would have to climb to get to one thousand, because it seemed like an impossible number. I remember reading somewhere that the Eiffel Tower has over two thousand steps leading to the top, but most people opt to take the elevator. Why? Because climbing over two thousand steps to get to anything would be
insane
. Like, whack-job dress-up-like-your-mother-and-murder-people-in-the-shower crazy. Which pretty much made me certifiable.

I started counting the steps out of boredom sometime after the snow began to slow down. Without the drifts to hop on or the snow to play with, I was going a bit crazy, and I assumed I’d reach the end of the stairs long before I could actually count to one thousand.

I was wrong.

My foot slid as easily onto the one thousandth step as it had the first, and what little resolve I’d managed to hold on to slipped through my fingers. My throat turned thick with frustrated tears, and I had to kneel forward because my knees were shaking. Even though I wasn’t the least bit tired from climbing so long and so high, I didn’t think I could manage to lift one more foot to climb one more step. I was done. I’d had enough.

I crouched on my heels and wished more than anything that I had a door to slam. That always made me feel better when I fought with my mom. It didn’t matter who was right or what the fight was about, a solid slam of a door always made me feel like I was back in control of the situation.

But of course there were no doors for me to slam and no one to yell at. I couldn’t even throw a snowball because the snow had slowed to a trickle and there wasn’t enough sticking to the stairs for me to scoop up. Instead I banged my fists on the step in front of me, letting out a scream of frustration.

A string of spit escaped my lips and dribbled down my chin. I was too angry to bother wiping it away, so instead I let it hang there, not caring that I looked like a rabid animal clawing its way up a stone mountain. Just how big was this piece-of-shit staircase? Did it even
have
an end? I had the inkling I’d become Sisyphus. He’s that guy who had to push a rock up a hill for eternity, and every time he got to the top the rock would roll back down and he’d have to start all over again. What if the stairs went on forever and I was stuck walking for eternity with no way to turn around and go back down? It didn’t matter whether or not I was already dead—I would die again.

I pounded the step in front of me, this time harder, slapping my palms against the stone with so much vigor I was sure my skin would split from the force. But of course, like everything on the stairs, nothing changed. My palms were smooth and scrape-free. They didn’t even sting from the impact.

I crouched down on the step and ground my teeth to keep from screaming again. That’s when I heard the buzzing sound.

It was light, like the sharp whine of a mosquito, and it was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It sounded like an insect was circling my head or hovering behind me, just out of reach.

My head jerked left and right, searching for the source. I expected to see Sunny, Logan, or some other ghostly abomination glowering at me, but the staircase was empty.

The buzzing finally settled next to my left ear, and when I swatted at it, my hand made contact with something soft and bullet-shaped. The thing zipped out in front of me, and I caught sight of an insect slightly larger than my thumb, with four diaphanous wings propelling it forward.

It was a dragonfly. At least I thought it was a dragonfly. There was something about it that seemed too large or too bird-like, but I couldn’t think of what else it might be. Before I could get a closer look, it darted forward, moving like an arrow released from the belly of a bow.

It left a trail behind as it moved, its small body splitting the air into a pinkish wake. It looked like the thing was
moving
the sky. How was that possible?

The trail hung ribbon-like and glistened like light reflecting off a cresting wave. Then the path slowly began to fade from view, as though the dragonfly-thing had somehow ripped the sky into two halves and it was mending itself back together.

The creature zipped ahead of me until it was at the edge of my line of sight, then it hovered in place, waiting.

Was it waiting for me? It didn’t seem like an insect could actually
wait
for someone, but I moved my feet quickly up the stairs anyway, following its glistening path.

It hovered until I was close enough to touch it. I could make out tiny hairs covering its thin, greenish body. Its dark eyes were large and placed on either side of its head, and below that sat the thin line of its mouth. And then—I might have thought I was hallucinating if it weren’t for all the other crazy things I’d seen on the stairs—the thing
smiled
at me. The edges of its mouth tipped upward into a U, a gesture so familiar that it almost seemed human.

What the hell
was
it?

With what seemed like a final smirk, the creature bolted from its stationary position, flying with such speed that it was gone from my sight before I’d even had time to register its movement. The only clue that it had been there at all was the pinkish trail left in its wake, beckoning me to follow.

I ran after it, my flip-flops clapping against the stone steps in a metronome rhythm. The trail snaked from side to side, and in a few places looped around in a circle, as if the fly had spun back around to make sure I still followed.

Whatever it was, it was fast. I ran as quickly as my legs could manage, but I still couldn’t seem to catch up, even though the winding path made it look like the creature was meandering its way up the steps rather than racing me to the top.

I pumped my arms harder, using them to propel myself forward. In the distance, I caught sight of the dragonfly’s elongated green body as it zipped from side to side on the steps, but it disappeared again in a deft burst of speed.

Come on.
I urged my feet to keep moving. It circled back in my direction, a pinkish figure eight trailing behind it, and just when I thought I might catch up to it, the plastic bolt between my toes ripped free from the sole of my flip-flop and I tumbled forward, knocking my knee on the edge of a step.

Man
,
it hurt. It really, really hurt. So much so that stars burst behind my eyes, white and hot with everything my nerve endings could deliver.

Blood gushed from the open wound on my knee. I was suddenly dizzy from it, feeling for a moment like I might faint.

Then it hit me—it
hurt
.

I could actually feel real honest-to-God pain in my knee. I hadn’t felt pain since arriving on the stairs—not when I tried to pull the flower up from the ground, not when I slammed my hands against the steps, not even when I ran as hard as I could. I should have felt
something
all those other times, but I didn’t. So what changed? Why was I suddenly feeling things again?

I ran a thumb across my knee, smearing blood on my clean skin. A sharp jab of pain shot up my leg when I poked at the cut. It was such a relief that I started to laugh. I could
feel
again. I was bleeding! It was like I was alive again.

Up ahead, the dragonfly had disappeared from view and its pink path began to fade into the sky. I’d have to hurry if I didn’t want to lose the trail.

I leaned on the step in front for support as I stood, ready to run, but stopped short. Something was different. The step felt
wrong
, like it had changed. Not a major change—it wasn’t like it had suddenly turned from stone to carpet or anything—but it was definitely different than it had been a moment before.

I ran my hand over the top a few times to be sure, then crawled forward a few more steps to check those as well. Sure enough, it was the same on all of them. The center of every step was worn down and grooved, the way staircases leading up to old buildings are worn down from all the feet constantly hitting them and wearing away at the stone. It was a subtle change, but an important one. Because it meant that someone was here before me. And not just someone—someones. There would’ve had to be hundreds, maybe even thousands of feet hitting the steps to wear them down like this. So where did everybody go?