The Demoness of the Hall

 

“No. No. Absolutely fucking not. No. Not a chance. Fuck that.”

“A bit overdramatic, don’t you think?” I say, watching the demon in front of me flail around hysterically. “I asked you to help me join speech, not to take a bath in battery acid.”

“I’d prefer the second option!” Haley yells as she stomps around the hallway, walking to each wall before turning on her heel to walk in the other direction, slowly making her way up and down the walkway, looking like a game of Pong, or those tv screensavers where the logo never quite hits the corner. “I am not, I repeat, am not going to do a lame-ass speech thing. Hell, I don’t get why you want to do it so badly!”

An image of Clare flashes in my head before I shake it out. “I have my reasons…” My foot taps impatiently on the tiled floor as I watch the woman I loathe more than anything in this world grind to a halt.

“Why me?” She asks, turning her crimson eyes to mine. “Out of everyone in this godforsaken hellhole, why would you ask me for help? There’s gotta be at least one loser out there that’d be willing to do this with you… oh, what about the pigle–”

Seeing red for a moment, I have Haley pinned against a locker by the time I realize what’s happening. “Stop calling her that!” The demoness raises her hands in mock surrender and I let go. My heart is beating like crazy and the guilt of lashing out yet again starts weighing in the pit of my stomach. “S–sorry.”

Haley chuckles and I mentally update my list of the top five sounds I despise… sorry early morning leaf blowers, you’ve been replaced. “No need to apologize, Wolfy. I, more than most, understand that particular impulse.” I snort at the idea of the two of us being in any way similar, prompting an exaggerated eye roll. “Anyway, why don’t you just ask her to help you? I’m sure you’ll have a better time working with someone you actually like than putting up with me.”

…

“Wait… why didn’t you ask her first?” There’s no simple answer to Haley’s question so I remain silent, jaw clenched and teeth aching from the pressure. “She’s already a part of speech team, isn’t she?” My eyes are stinging in a familiar way, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting them betray me by releasing any goddamn tears around the demon. “... and you really don’t care about speech either, huh?”

“Very astute,” I manage to bark out without letting my voice crack. Trembling a bit, I take a couple of breaths to calm down before opening my mouth again. “I thought… that if I showed up with you of all people, with the two of us not at each other’s throats, that she might give me a chance. She’d see that I want to move on, and maybe she’d be willing to forgive me. It’s really quite stupid now that I say it out loud."

Something of what I say gives Haley pause as her eyes pass through me, searching for something beyond her vision. “You know what… let's do a stupid speech thing.” The veritable avalanche of questions flooding my mind right now must be apparent as Haley sighs and waves off my surprise. “I’m only doing this if we start… right now… after I send a quick text.”

“To Willow?” I ask, drawing an irritated look from Haley. Yeah, you’re not the only one that can read a situation. “I’m guessing she’s your reason for agreeing to this?”

“She’s one of them…” Haley muses. “My story–I’m sorry, our story,” Haley gestures between us, “it isn’t exactly something I’m proud of. Before I share it with more people, and before I close the book on it… I’d like it to have a better ending.”

With a wry smile and a shrug, I turn toward a classroom I know should be empty. “Whatever floats your boat and gets you to help me.” Two genuinely selfish people using one another to get other more decent folk to tolerate us… what could possibly go wrong?

*** ~Three Weeks Later

Haley and I stand in front of the metal door separating us from the speech team’s practice. “Well, are you gonna knock or should I? I didn’t drag my ass to school on a Sunday just to stare at a door, Luna.”

“I know, I know… just give me a minute, okay?” It’s not too late to back out, to literally run in the other direction and not make a complete ass of myself… Holy shit, this is actually really embarrassing, isn’t it? Why the hell do plans always sound so good when you’re making them but the moment you have to follow through all the glaring faults come rushing to mind!? “You know, we can just–”

Haley knocks on the door, looking at me with a deadpan expression. “I dragged my ass here… on a SUNDAY… no backing out now.”

Seconds drag on for what seems like hours before I hear the aged handle of the door click. Once again, I find myself face to face with a teacher sporting goat horns and a broad, if not surprised grin. “Umm, hi there, sir. We,” I point to myself and Haley in turn, “we’re here to do the duo speech thing. If it’s still on the table?”

There’s a moment where the man obviously holds back a powerful urge to welcome us in immediately but instead cranes his neck back to face the classroom hesitantly. “Well, first off, love the enthusiasm. I know coming on a weekend isn’t ideal for a lot of you youngsters… but…”

“Can we at least try out? Or audition? I’m sorry, I’m not sure of the terminology here.” I ask, sensing Clare’s influence from behind the threshold. “We prepared our own script…”

The teacher steps back and the door swings open fully, allowing Clare to place herself in the frame. “What part of–” She cuts herself off when she notices the woman standing next to me. My friend looks between Haley and I a few dozen times in the span of a couple seconds, covered head to toe in a thick layer of disbelief, with a clear coat of dumbfoundedness on top. “You… two?” Haley waves at Clare, seemingly jump-starting her ability to process information once again. “L– Ar–” She takes a deep breath and sends a dangerously potent death glare my way. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“That’s a fair question," I concede, not really sure of the best way to answer her, so I don't. “We… both worked hard on this if you’d just give us a chance? I promise to leave right after… and to stop bothering you as well.”

With a neutral expression hardened to stone, Clare steps into the classroom, making room for us to enter. The goat man is ecstatic and grabs Haley and I by the arm, basically dragging us to the front of the room. “Alright everyone, looks like we’ve got new blood! So let’s give… whoever these two are a warm welcome!”

A silence descends on the classroom that’d make even crickets too uncomfortable to play their typical awkward tone. “Ah, shit,” Haley mumbles, locking eyes with a bird girl posted up in the corner. “This better be worth it for you…”

I nod and try, unsuccessfully, to swallow the new lump in my throat. “Hi there… everyone. We… we’re gonna do a thing, and hopefully, it doesn’t suck.” I force my mouth to smile even though I know my eyes are wide with panic. Clare is sitting near the center of the room, arms crossed in front of her, staring straight at me with what looks to be a winning combination of contempt… and more contempt. Yeah, great start.

A hand gently squeezes my shoulder and I see Haley looking at me with a panicked expression I’m positive can give my own a run for its money. “You’ve got this.”

Taking in more than a few calming breaths, I look off toward the back of the room, making sure I don’t actually have to look at anyone while I’m doing this, before starting.

*** ~Two Years Ago

“See, with your long nails, the polish looks so much nicer, right?” Looking down at my gigantic hands, with sharpened claws and more hair than I ever wanted to see on myself, I barely register the presence of the lavender hue painted on my nails. “I made sure to pick up extra of your favorite color. Hopefully, your nails don’t grow in super quickly but if they do, I’ve got you covered!” Clare’s bright smile contrasts too completely with my own sullen mood. 

Actually, sullen doesn’t quite cover it. My complete and total lack of any and all hope or joy, and a firm belief that this state of mind will never abate or improve in any way. That sums it up a bit better.

Despite sitting on the floor of her room, I still have to look down at my friend standing next to me, rifling through the clothes in her closet. “So, I don’t have anything that’ll really fit you right now, but we can absolutely hit up the mall this weekend and find something you’re comfortable with and–”

“Nothing is comfortable,” I manage to mumble. The first words I’ve really spoken since I woke up, post-metamorphosis. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m everything I should want to be. I’m large, strong, and have a face nobody will want to mess with. All in all, another successful metamorphosis… so why does everything hurt?

I feel a pair of small arms wrap around my waist as Clare pulls herself into my side. “Luna… I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I know there’s nothing I can do to really help. But… I–I want to do something. Please… just tell me what I can do…”

Scooping my friend up into my arms, I hold her tightly against me as her arms adjust to wrap around my neck. “I don’t know,” I reply, words warbled with barely contained grief. “But I appreciate you being here.”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me, Luna.” Though my heart is filled with infinite uncertainties and the jagged-sharp hurt of a shattered dream, I know three things to be absolutely true. After today, I can never go by Luna ever again, hearing those two syllables coming from the lips of my friend might be the closest I’ll ever come to true happiness, and more than anything…

I love her. Which might actually be the most painful of the three.

*** ~Two Weeks Ago

“What the hell is taking so long!? When I agreed to help you with this I thought we’d storm into nerd-central, say some sappy shit, and be done with this super quickly! Can’t you just pick something that’s already written?” The peanut gallery, who’s spent the better part of the last hour napping on her desk, complains belligerently as the last fading embers of my patience slowly die out.

“I’m fairly certain I only have one shot at this, so the words have to be right. Now if you’re not going to help, the least you can do is go back to sleep. Your boorish snoring is somehow easier to ignore than your yammering.” The past few days of working with Haley have been… challenging, to say the least. Also not helping my failing mental state is the fact that I’m no closer to actually finishing what I want to say. I swear, at some point I used to be okay at this!

Haley, however, finds saying things incredibly easy. “First of all, I don’t snore. Secondly, fuck you! Third, why am I even here for this part? I don’t give a damn what we say. Just call me when it's time to invade Nerdvana.”

Counting off her numbered points with my fingers, I fire back, “Yes you do, not if you paid me, and misery loves company, bitch.” Haley raises a single finger in my direction and my already overpowering migraine grows. “Just look at what I have so far and tell me what it’s missing!” I yell, tossing my rough draft onto her desk, being sure to avoid the puddle of drool from her nap.

After a few seconds, Haley starts chuckling. “This might be the lamest shit I’ve ever read.” I want to yell at her again… but she’s right. I’m completely out of my depth here. “Honestly, you’re better off finding something that’s close to what you want to say and having us perform that. This… is not what you need.”

Grabbing the page back, I look over my attempt once again before ripping it to shreds. “Goddamn it.” I didn’t want to go with some off-the-rack script. I wanted bespoke, well-tailored words that would truly communicate everything I want to say to Clare… but I really fucking suck at this.

The demoness’ laughter slows. “You… you really like her, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be putting up with you and your heinous, ear-piercing snores if I didn’t.”

A silence settles over us, Haley uncharacteristically holding something back. “How did you piss her off?”

Seeing no reason to keep secrets at this point, I shrug. “It happened over time, I guess. She kept putting in the effort to reach out to me, and all I ever did was push her away. I was so absorbed with wallowing in misery, I never saw how I was hurting her until I gave her the last shove she needed, figuratively and literally, to see how shitty a friend I’d been. She saw in me, a version of myself that was better than I could ever hope to live up to… so instead of trying, I did everything I could to prove her wrong. All because I was afraid of putting in the effort and still failing to be who I wanted to be… for her and myself.”

Without missing a beat, Haley rattles off in a monotone voice, wrung dry of any malice or joy, “Somehow, even though you knew better, just being around her made you feel like a better person. It’s not that you were relying on her to provide you with the self-esteem you lacked. It was that she showed you where to look in yourself to find what you didn’t know you had, and didn’t think you deserved.”

…

Tearing open my steno notepad, I frantically flip to an empty page. “Fucking repeat that, now!”

*** ~ 1 Week Ago

Haley and I collapse on my couch, a couple dozen failed dry runs taking a toll on our morale. “Do you want to–”

“No… not again… not yet. Let’s take five, please.” Haley’s voice sounds just as haggard as I feel. Between the missed lines, botched cues, and general lack of any talent or ability… I think both of us can comfortably wipe any profession that requires elocution off of our list of potential future careers. “For the record, I really fucking hate this.”

“Ditto.” The word tumbles out of my mouth with the energy of a koala that’s had one too many eucalyptus leaves. “Thanks, though, for taking this seriously.”

The demon waves off my comment like it had caused a stench in the room. “It’s the literal least I can do… considering.” The two of us fall into silence, a pastime of our rehearsals at this point. Until, surprisingly, Haley shakes things up. “Hey, Wolfy, I have a question if you don’t mind answering.”

“How uncharacteristically thoughtful of you to ask… about asking. I mean, I can’t very well say no before I hear you out.” Why do I have a terrible feeling about this?

Haley sits up before curling forward, her elbows resting on her knees and fingers crossed with one another. “When… Libby told me about her metamorphosis, she mentioned seeing who she was becoming, who she wanted to be, in a dream… what did you see?”

It’s a real flaw of my wolfish features that I have no control over when my ears turn down, completely giving away any painful shift in my mood. At Haley’s question, I feel the traitorous bastards retreating quicker than my father’s hairline at forty. “I saw… Luna. The version of me that I wanted to be.” The demoness sits silently and I can tell she’s waiting for more. “She was beautiful, and confident, and even in the blurred snippets of our conversation that I can remember, she was perfect and everything I never thought I could become in my wildest dreams. Guess I was right.”

“What hap–”

“I remembered what you said, about being strong. I remember her panicking, and pleading… and then I remember leaving her behind.”

There are many things I don’t expect to see in my lifetime: VR gaming reaching the technological heights that every modern anime seems convinced will be possible before the turn of the century. First contact with a sentient alien race. Our world not immediately trying to declare war on said aliens and instead trying to broker peace and unity with lifeforms unlike ourselves. A full-on zombie apocalypse. And finally, more than anything else, Haley, the bane of my existence and eternal earner of my ire… crying. Yet here we are, Haley’s crying and I'm somehow feeling bad for her! Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with today... and should I be updating my zombie survival plan?

“I–I really am sorry. I know those words don’t mean anything, and they can’t take back what I did, how I hurt you, but I truly am… sorry.”

Leaning forward as well, so I can nudge my way into her view, I elbow Haley. “Stop with the crying, Big Red, it doesn’t suit you.” Whether she can hear me or not, the demoness continues bawling without reacting to what I’m saying. I wait for her to calm down, and while her emotions are running their course, I realize something. “You said that Libby told you that she saw herself in a dream. Didn’t you see the same thing?”

The demon catches her breath and quiets herself before sniffling a brief, “no.” It takes another minute or so before she’s ready to speak again. “All I saw, was her.” Any lingering guilt and pain is washed away by a fresh helping of rage, as Haley growls her last word. She picks up on my next question before I can ask it. “My mother… the most vile, hateful, repugnant woman I know. She’s what I saw… she’s what I became.”

Her words are a lot to unpack, but one thing is abundantly clear. “So… I’m guessing you hate how you look too?” Haley just nods, her eyes vacant and mind disconnected from our conversation. Rolling my eyes, for nobody's benefit but my own, I lean in and wrap an arm around Haley’s shoulders.

All of Haley’s muscles tense up as she waits for the cruel punchline to my action, but it never comes as I sit next to her, trying to be… comforting, I guess? I don’t even know anymore. Her head swings to face me, plastered in bewilderment that I can fully understand given the situation. “What are you doing?”

“I think… I’m giving you a hug… kind of...”

There’s a nebulous cloud of uncomfortable confusion between us. “But you hate me. Ruined your life, remember? We just went over this again.”

I groan, knowing that it’s already too late for me. All there is to do now is just say what I already know is true. “I ruined my own life… yes, you did play a pretty prominent supporting role in that play, but I was the star attraction. And… I did hate you… I still don’t like you… but… I for–forgive you.” I’ve said my fair share of f-bombs in my day, but that’s the only one that’s ever nearly made me vomit.

“You… what!?” The indignation in Haley’s voice is borderline offensive, but I get where she’s coming from, so I force a stiff smile.

“I… forgive… you.”

Blinking a half dozen times, it almost looks like the demoness has been dazed by a haymaker in a prize fight. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Letting go of Haley, I instinctively slide away from her. “Yeah, don’t I fucking know it. But luckily, forgiveness doesn’t have to make sense… does it?”

“I guess not…”

…
…
…

“So, umm, should we take it from the top again?” She asks, eyes still frozen in abject disbelief.

“Yes, absolutely, let’s run it back,” and absolutely change the subject from this uncomfortable goddamn mess. Sounds great.

*** Present

Luna: 
I’m not happy.
A simple sentiment.
Not a cry for help
Or a call to action.
Rather, a scathing indictment of the status quo.
A fact.

Haley:
I’m not happy.
I haven’t been for years.
In the sweltering blaze
Of a wasted life,
I’ve burned the bridges that kept me from being an island.
Adrift.

Luna:
I remember when laughter was boundless.
When joy could be bought on clearance,
In little glass bottles filled with a purple promise,
And flecks that shined in your eyes,
to draw out a smile.

Haley:
When blaspheming an anachronistic faith,
Would make you pout,
As you hid the laugh I had earned,
Daring me to continue,
To make you a sinner like me.

Luna:
You built me up,
Day by day,
Higher and higher.
Taking my scattered pieces,
And helping me see what they could add up to.

Haley:
You tore at the cage that I was locked up in,
Despite all my boundless flaws.
Ripping and tearing,
Bit by bit,
Breaking me down.

Luna:
The sky was empty, a blackened void,
Until your light showed me the moon.
A goal, a dream, a treasure.

Haley:
A gleaming signpost,
To escape from perdition,
And join you in a paradise that others had lost.

…

Luna:
I was afraid,
That the closer I got to that shimmering satellite,
The more apparent it would be that I didn’t belong.

Haley:
Afraid that the wide cast shadows I saw as home,
Were hiding something worse than I knew,
That you would hate.

Luna:
I convinced myself that desperately clawing at the ground,
And refusing to fly toward greater and grander,
Was a feat of strength to be admired.
As the light that I cherished became blinding.

Haley:
And by the time the black scales had fallen from my eyes,
You were gone.
Realizing that you were worth more than trying to save,
A stubborn fool clinging to the past.
Living in a woman’s shadow,
Who should have been forgotten long ago.

Luna:
The tower fell, the hanged man stood, the moon reversed away.
On scattered cards, the gifts you’d given,
Were lost in a shuffle,
And dealt a crippling blow.
I lost the only person who saw me and believed that I could shine.

Haley:
I lost my own self-worth along with my partner in crime.

Luna:
I lost the language that we shared,

Haley:
The inside jokes we had prepared.

Luna:
The ecstatic greetings,

Haley:
The reluctant goodbyes,

Luna:
The hours spent in a dream,

Haley:
Ignoring the alarm clock’s cries.

Luna:
I’m. Not. Happy.

Haley:
But because of you.

Luna:
I know I can be.

Both:
Someday.

***

There was a video, a few years ago, of some politician or something pleading with a crowd to ‘please clap.’ I have always laughed at the clip, relishing the absurdity of having to ask for a reaction of some kind. In the silent wake of our “performance” as we’ll generously call it… I gain a certain level of understanding and empathy for someone absolutely desperate to not be left hanging in silence.

“Alright, that was… something!” The goat man declares as he alone claps. Fuck it, I’ll take it. At least hearing that someone else is still able to speak manages to release the breath I had unwittingly trapped in my lungs. “A few notes–”

Before we can no doubt receive the Simon Cowell treatment, my arm is seized by a short girl who has somehow snuck up on me while the advisor for this club graciously tries to not make us feel like the dumbest pieces of shit for doing what we did. “Outside. Now.” Haley gives me a sidelong smirk and a shrug, before continuing to stare daggers at the colorful harpy who at some point had started recording our train wreck. I let myself get pulled along until we’re a good twenty or so feet from the club room. “What was that!?” Clare half-yells, teeth gritted.

“A Hail Mary attempt to get you to talk to me again?” The small woman glaring up at me doesn’t say another word. “So far so good, I’d say.”

“So far so– Hell no! What were you even saying back there?” I retreat back a step and lean against the wall behind me. “That was so… so embarrassing!”

Trying to smile innocently, and failing miserably I’m sure, I can’t help but chuckle at her slightly pink face. “Only for me… and Haley… and given your reaction, I guess people are gonna know that was about you, so yeah, for you too, I guess.” Huh, I didn’t think eyebrows could twist with anger quite so much before. “I… I’m sorry. This was obviously a really stupid way to do this, but I wanted you to listen and–”

“Why now? Why after all this time are you trying to reach out? Is this some sick game to you? The moment I do as you ask, and leave you alone… you pull this shit! Why!? Why not for the years I’ve been trying to get through to you? Why now!?” Her breathing is ragged and her eyes are shining with the early warning of tears to come.

“I was afraid. I didn’t want to be seen as a joke. Someone who was so obviously not what they’re still trying to be. I was afraid that you’d stick up for me and get hurt again. I was afraid that even after trying all that I could, the result would only disappoint you… and me. I didn’t want to be Luna, if I still looked like Arnie.” I manage to keep a strained smile on my face as I speak, but my quivering voice does little to communicate my resolve. "From the moment we met, you’ve only ever been helping me, and… I feel like I never get to do anything for you in return. And if I went ahead with this, it’d just be one more unrepayable debt, on a gamble that could amount to nothing.”

Clare's lip is shaking as she tries with all her might to hold herself together, just like me. “So what changed?”

“I got to see what I would be fighting for. I got to see someone be herself, to be overwhelmed to the point of tears, finally realizing that they were everything they wanted to be. Yet at first, she refused to see what was obviously right in front of her, and she needed to be told what she already knew. To truly be yourself, is a constant choice, to fight against the pressures you’ve grown up being told you’re beholden to, and… I don’t want to be crushed by them anymore.”

“So… you want what, exactly?”

"A second chance, to be the friend I should have been, even if it means starting over." Holding out a hand for her to take, I smile at my best friend. “So, it's nice to meet you… my name is Luna.”

Ignoring my outstretched hand, Clare tackle-hugs me into the wall, knocking all of the wind from my lungs. Well deserved vengeance for earlier, so I’m cool with it. “Aren't you… still afraid?” She asks through gasps and sniffles, fully embracing the emotions she no longer wants to hold at bay.

“No,” I answer. “Even if the rest of the world rejects me, your light is all I need to see the moon. To see myself.” I wrap my arms around Clare as she buries her face in my shoulder.

My head becomes light in an instant as my vision is assailed by countless stars and flickering lights. Alright, maybe I hit my head when Clare knocked me back. This… does not feel great. My arms drop to the sides as I feel my head lulling from one side to the next. Holy shit, I did not just have a revelation about how I want to live the rest of my life just to die of a concussion right away! Through my distorted lens, I can see Clare staring at me, and through a heavy filter I can hear her yelling in the distance somewhere, as the world slowly crawls away from me.

***

I’m in a classroom. It feels… familiar, but something is obviously very wrong. The walls, the desks, the chalkboard, are all clawed up. Shredded paper, and broken chairs litter the floors as if a wild animal has gone on a frenzied raid of the building. Every window, every glassy, reflective surface, is shattered and there’s not a sound to be heard.

Ignoring every ounce or horror movie wisdom I should have picked up on over the years, I call out, “Hello? Anybody there?”

There’s no response, and I slowly shuffle through the debris, trying to disturb as little of it as possible. The door to the classroom is open, and I can see an equally mangled hallway on the other side.

I spend what seems like hours walking through the desolate ruins of a long abandoned school, checking inside every room, closet, stairwell, and bathroom I can find. There isn’t a single room undestroyed or another soul present.

As I’m about to give up and find a nice place to rest for a while, I see a different door. A very different door. It’s smaller than the others, wooden, and has a childish multiplication table poster stuck to it. Running to the door, I tear it open to find an immaculately kept classroom. There are tests and quizzes plastered to the walls, the remnants of a grammar lesson still scrawled on the board, and an assortment of bags strewn about, as if the entire class had suddenly left in the middle of a lesson. Just a few seconds in here is all I need to be certain that I’m still alone, but this seems a better place than any other to take a load off for a while and relax.

Picking one of the desks at random, I collapse onto the waiting chair that, admittedly, is quite a bit too small for me. Before I can zone out and come up with a new plan, I see something peeking out of the cubby beneath the wooden surface of the desk. I pull out a simple deck of playing cards, worn out from overuse with a box that’s brown and torn.

Taking another look around, I chuckle to myself. “No way,” I can’t help but say out loud as I realize why this classroom seems familiar. I’ve been here before… and the desk I chose is one I spent a lot of time sitting at during lunch breaks and before classes. Popping open the box, I start slowly building up a house of cards, unable to contain the goofy smile I know this nostalgic trip is prompting.

“E–excuse me…” My trip down memory lane is interrupted by a small voice to my right. Looking down, I find a small wolf girl staring up at me with a pained expression. “I’m sorry… but they want me to knock over your cards.” Looking around the room, there’s nobody else around, but instead of asking a question I imagine will lead to some sort of non-answer, I ask the question with an obvious answer.”

“Do you want to knock over my cards?” The girl stares at me with eyes wide as saucers and shakes her head. “In that case, why don’t you join me instead? Two builders are better than one, right?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before the girl shakes her head again. “I.. I’d like to, but I can’t. I’ll look–”

“Weak?” I ask, causing the girl’s mouth to open in shock. “Yeah, I’m a bit of a mind-reader.” 

The girl nods while mouthing a silent and reverent “woah.”

“Tell me, is it worse to look weak doing what you want, or to be weak letting other people tell you what you want?” The little pup thinks for a moment, but her confusion only seems to deepen, so I decide to throw her a bone. “It’s not weak to do what you want. So if you want to build with me, let’s build.”

Showing me the first smile I’ve seen from her, the girl pulls up a chair and starts helping me lay the foundation for our house of cards. Everything goes smoothly until her hands slip and she knocks over our half-built house. “No!” She screams, face wrought with panic as she looks rapidly between me and the messy pile of cards. “I didn’t mean to, honest. I–I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I–”

The girl turns to run away but I put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You made a mistake, it’s no big deal.” By the terrified expression on her face, it’s obvious she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “Really, it’s fine. A mistake is only fatal if you give up. Otherwise, it becomes just a compelling part of your success story. So let’s not leave things like this. Let’s try again.”

The two of us spend quite a while building up a new tower, the little girl’s movements much slower and calculated than before. When we reach the top, and there are only two cards left to place, she attempts to place them while standing on her tiptoes, before stopping and trying to hand them to me. “Nope, it’s your turn.” I pick her up and hold her near the top of the tower, her face clouded with nerves.

“No… I’m gonna mess it up… and we’re so close.”

“Like I said, if you make a mistake, we can just start over again. I want you to do the honors.”

After a slight pause, the girl slowly reaches out her hands and balances the cards on top. The moment it’s clear that nothing is going to topple over, her face lights up and I gently put her down. “We did it!” She yells, bouncing up and down on her feet. There’s something so inherently sweet about this moment, all I can do is smile at her as she turns to face me. “Thanks lady!” She says as she hugs me.

…

Wait, lady?

***

As my eyes slowly open, I’m greeted by an oppressively bright fluorescent light overhead. On instinct, I wrench my eyes shut and groan, the involuntary noise alerting someone nearby to the fact that I’m awake. “Luna!” I hear Clare calling me, and a second later, I feel her draped on top of me hugging me tightly. “You’re awake!”

“Yes, I am… where the hell am I?” There’s a time and place for manners, and it isn’t when you feel like your entire body’s just met the business end of a steam-roller. Obviously, I have to be sick, because my voice has an entire swamp's worth of frogs in it.

“Mr. Isaacs and Haley carried you to the infirmary. Ms. Charlotte isn’t here, but we figured a bed was probably more comfortable to lay on than the floor.” What was I doing on the floor?

Wait…

I crack my eyes open again, greeted by the sight of my best friend sporting a grin so wide it manages to lessen my pain immediately. “The poem… did we actually?” Clare nods emphatically and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “Oh… Oh no! Holy shit… I’m so sorry! That’s gotta be–”

“The lamest thing you’ve ever done?” She offers, laughing lightly at my expense. “Without question. But it was also strangely sweet.” There’s a moment, a brief flash of a second, where I swear Clare is looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen her make before… “But if you ever pull something like that in public again, I’m pretending like I don’t know you.”

This threat makes me giggle, just a bit. “That’s more than fair.” The two of us look at each other for another heavy moment, as I’m slowly crushed by a silence that isn’t comfortable, but certainly isn’t unpleasant. “I really am sorry, Clare. Not just for the public humiliation. I’m sorry about everything I’ve done over the past couple years. I’ve been a really shitty friend.”

“Yeah… but so have I. You tried to communicate your needs, and I wasn’t listening. Your reaction was extreme, but I can understand what led to that point. I’ll be better about that now, I promise.”

“Same here, I promise not to freak out about you trying to help me be myself anymore... for the most part. We'll take it slow and..."

Clare's eyes bulge and her jaw drops. "Umm, Luna... taking it slow might not really be an option for you anymore." Before I can question this further, Clare opens the front-facing camera on her phone and hands it to me.

...

Well. Shit.

More questions than I've ever wanted to ask in my life march through my mind, chief among them being "How the fuck is this even possible?" and "Really, how hard did I hit my head to be dreaming this vividly?"

Impossibly staring back at me, from the small screen of a smartphone, is the woman I'd left to rot years ago. Me. The me I've always wanted to be. With the high cheekbones, sharp eyes, an adorable nose, and lips I'm assuming are also pretty when not parted like some stunned-by-disbelief dolt. "Clare?" I ask, hoping that one word will thoroughly convey everything I want to ask so my friend who's currently bouncing with unbridled joy can explain the entire world to me starting from the beginning. "Am I?" That's literally it, all of the clarification I can muster at the moment before my words are thoroughly spent.

"Uh-huh," she replies in an equally specific manner. Darting behind me so she can rest her head on my shoulder and look at me through the same lens I'm getting to see myself, she grins as I'm fighting a losing battle with a torrent of tears. "Good morning beautiful," Her voice lilts in a playful way, that if my erratic heartbeat is any indication may have shaved a few years off of my life in a Faustian bargain I'd make again and again. "What do you think?"

I think my brain is too busy making the AOL dial-up noise medley to be of any real use to me at the moment. "Beautiful?" I ask, parroting the one word my idiotic self would latch onto in this situation.

My friend laughs, snaking her arms over my shoulders and around my neck, bringing our faces about an inch away from one another. "Mhmm, beautiful. But I still want to hear what you think."

Every moment hoping and wishing for a do-over, every fantasy I'd buried of never meeting Haley, every dream of what could have been and the years I have lost, attempt to rush to the forefront of my mind... but are all shoved aside. I'm ecstatic, I'm beyond words, I'm over the moon for lack of a third less on-the-nose way to say this. The changes are everything I want, everything I need, the catalyst for a tomorrow I didn't think I'd get, yet any attempts to consider what this means going forward likewise fail to hold their ground at the moment. Nothing of the past or future is able to occupy even a shred of my wane attention span, as I look at Clare's screen.

The two of us, laughing, and smiling, and crying... but not in a painful way. Together. Close. Whole. Everything I am drinks in this one flawless moment in time, as I give the only answer that could possibly make any sense. "I think... this is perfect."