Page 38 of When Darkness Calls

Me

Have you thought any about Dee’s birthday?

I set the phone down, staring at the writing on the calendar, mind whirling over ideas, plans, possibilities.

My phone vibrates, the muted buzz disrupting the brainstorming spiral.

Cade

Not really. I figured we’d try to cut the dinner short and then I’d just let her decide what she wants to do like the last few. Why?

Me

Just wondering…Tell Jennifer y’all are having it Friday…I think I have an idea.

twelve

Dani

I’m willing to admit I’m thankful for the small mercies in life.

Things like an elevator arriving just as you enter a building after worrying you’re late. Being the last person in the lunch line and there’s one pepperoni roll left. Your eyeliner lasting all day without smudging. Looking for a specific shirt you want to wear only to realize it’s freshly washed and waiting in the dryer.

Or like walking onto campus today, noting that it’s an uncharacteristically cool day, considering the last two weeks have consistently been in the mid-nineties.

Seeing my favorite table is empty on the plaza, with a direct view of the fountain. I can actually hear the water bubbling softly for once.

Remembering I’m caught up on my homework, so my whole morning is free to do what I want, which is currently scrolling on my favorite film and TV news social media accounts, seeing if I’ve missed anything new.

Or turning my head just in time to see Issac coming up behind me, seconds before I’m sure I would have been scared shitless by his hand patting my shoulder. Said hand is already outstretched, barely inches from making contact.

He hasn’t even opened his mouth, and I’m already over this conversation.

“What do you want, Issac? I’m not going to do some middle-man carrier pigeon shit. If you want to talk to Liz, grow a sack and do it yourself.”

His hand drops against his thigh, heavy like lead.

Then, as if a dam has burst, my really, really great day is drowned by an onslaught of emotion and sensations.

My annoyance, frustration, and disappointment with Issac and what’s going on with him and Liz. My anger, confusion, and I suppose resentment for this…stranger he has become. My longing for the friend I had in him before the dramatic change, but also the person he used to be.

Then, like a bucket of ice water has been poured over my head, the eyes return. The ghosts’ retched stare ripping and tearing with dagger-like claws at the fabric of my being.

Issac groans, stepping in front of me. “Don’t be like that, Dee. I’ve tried. You know how she is. She won’t even read my emails. Emails!” Issac says dramatically, throwing his arms up, gripping his hair. “I don’t know what to do. It was all a complete misunderstanding, and I know it is because you look like you hate me right now.”

My arms crossed as I sat back staring at him unamused. It’s the first time I’ve really looked at him. “What makes you think I can change her mind?”

He sighs. “Just, can you give her this letter? I don’t know— like drop it in her backpack or slide it under her door. Something. I’ve tried in our classes together, but she literally didn’t even sit in those classes for ten minutes. As soon as she saw me, she booked it out the door.” A pained expression crosses his face.

I have to admit, he does kind of look like shit. Pale, gaunt, and overall sluggish compared to his normally up-kept self. His dirty blond hair is a mess when it’s usually styled back, dark circles line his brown eyes, and he’s wearing sweatpants. Completely unheard of in Issac’s new world.

I huffed, ripping the letter out of his hand, studying it intently. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much—”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“I get that, but—”