Time Lifts the Light

"Wh... What?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out four butterscotch candy wrappers, a tattered copy of the third volume of Death Note(1), his uniform's red and white striped tie, and a crumpled piece of yellow paper. He dumped them on top of the table and poked through the pile before selecting the yellow paper. He smoothed it out on the table top.

"Homecoming," he said. "See?"

Saturday, October 15th! Homecoming, Casino Night!

"Daniel," I scolded as I snatched the paper from him.
"My flyer..." he pouted.
"Focus, Hawkins," I growled. "Don't try to distract me."

He picked up a pencil and started doodling suns and moons all over the front cover of Death Note. His thick honey hair fell in his face and he flipped it back with a rake of his fingers.

"You..." I paused to lower my voice to a barely audible whisper. "You died?"
"It's complicated," he sighed dramatically. "Now, about Homecoming - "
I silenced him with a harsh look.

"I'll talk to you about it at lunch, okay?" he mumbled.
"Daniel - "
"I'll talk to you about it at lunch and don't call me Daniel."

I scowled deeply at him.

"And give that back," he snapped, snatching back the Homecoming flyer. "I have to answer a bunch of questions and you don't even... whatever..."
"Baby," I murmured accusingly.
He turned to stick his tongue out at me as he pointlessly mixed purple and green paint, creating a sickly brown color on his mat.

After a few more minutes of silent pouting, D.B. sighed.

"I'm skipping," he announced morosely. "See you at lunch."

He slipped out through the door while Ms. Perry's back was turned and I was forced to sit through the rest of art class without him.

I decided that I wasn't hungry. My stomach churned with a mixture of apprehension and anger. I was slowly beginning to realize that this is what it was like to be close to D.B. Half the time you were kept in the dark, fumbling around for something to cling to. Other times he blinded you with a shocking tidbit of information and then attempted to distract you with banter or charm.

The bell rang and I hurried off to the cafeteria. One quick sweep of the lunchroom revealed nothing. I began to make my way out to the student parking lot, the brisk air surprising me momentarily. He was perched, as usual, on the hood of his dirty car - his lunch (sandwich, apple, three king-sized candy bars that I suspected he'd snuck in there, and a grape juice box) spread out before him.

Mikey smacked his shoulder and then pointed at me. His head shot up and I didn't stop walking. He didn't run and hide when he saw me - which, I decided, was a good thing. Or a step in the right direction, at least.

Kim was making a strange face, concentrating very hard as she tried to put her hair up into a clip amidst the October wind. D.B. jumped down off his car and put the apple from his lunch in his pocket. He didn't protest when Mikey snatched up his candy bars and quickly zipped them up into his backpack.

"Hey," he said quietly as I approached.

The way he was standing, strong and squared, made me realize how tall he was. Not as tall as Mikey, who was nearing something like 6'3", but a more distinguished and mature sort of tall. It was a prideful, determined sort of height. He shook his brown-ish blond hair out of his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Let's go," he suggested, taking me gently by the wrist.

We walked around to the back of the building. I instantly remembered it as the place where he'd told me about time traveling for the first time. The air conditioning systems clanged noisily and the air smelled faintly of fuel. We stood on a grassy slope, D.B. leaning causally against the graffiti-covered side of the building.

I thought briefly of D.B.'s pocket watch, stashed in the top drawer of my night stand. I suddenly felt very antsy, my fingers flicking into fists. I missed that solid weight in my pocket. I made a mental note to take it out as soon as I got home.

"Okay," D.B. said hesitantly. "I'm... I... Portugal."
"Let's have it. If you've decided to trust me, then just tell me already."

He looked shocked, even a little upset, for a moment. But then he bit his lip and let out a gust of air that might have been a laugh.

"I like you because you don't take any of my shit," he told me, examining a particularly dirty sketch on the wall behind him. "Everyone else just takes all my bullshit and lets me talk and talk forever."
"Come on, D.B."

He gave me a strange, wild-eyed look and, without breaking eye-contact, he raised his hand to his mouth. Dramatically, he licked a large diagonal line across his palm and up his first finger.

"Oh, gross!" I blanched.

Grinning madly, he stuck his hand out to me.

"D.B., no!" I protested.

He stepped a bit closer, wiggling the fingers on his hand. His palm glistened in the sun. Something in me secretly enjoyed this - a sort of joke he was using to tease me. I figured that it was sort of D.B.'s twisted way of flirting.

"You too," he encouraged.

Grimacing, I licked my hand and shook solidly with Daniel. Instead of letting go, he pulled me close and cupped his saliva-free hand behind my ear. I reeled back in surprise, but he kept a tight grip on my hand - which was starting to feel slimy and cold.

He leaned in and spoke so close that I could feel his warm breath on the shell of my ear. The words were so tense, spoken so strained and tight, that I imagined I could feel his heart thrumming through the air and pulsating into me.

"My family went to Portugal three years ago. There was a traffic accident. I remember the smell of metal, something like copper. The sound of impact - I can't even describe... it was so sickening, you would have..."

His slick grip on my hand tightened.

"My father panicked. He broke the rules - all of them. You don't mess with time. You're not supposed to go back and change things."

I couldn't see D.B.'s face. I wanted to, but he was pressed so close to me that I couldn't move my head without bumping into him. I was forced to stare into the whirring air-conditioning machine. The even turn of the blades in the rotor were beginning to make me feel sick.

"He jumped back literally seconds before I hit the ground, grabbed me, and then went back into real time to get my mom and sister. Everyone was freaking out. My body had disappeared from the streets."

D.B.'s voice sounded thick, like he was on the verge of tears.

"The cars were still there, my blood was still running in the gutters. But I was gone. We went home. I... I don't... My dad likes to tell it like a story - like an adventure. But it's not. It's a nightmare."

He let go of my hand and stepped back, observing me cautiously. I felt an odd sensation, a bit like floating and a bit like vertigo.

"There you have it," he mumbled. "Not only am I a crazy, self-involved time traveler... But I also should be dead."

Wrong. He was absolutely, completely, entirely wrong. I stepped forward, a scowl carved into my face, and punched his arm with all my strength.

"Ouch! What the hell was - what? What's this? Why are you hugging me?"
"Your logic is incredibly idiotic."
A small laugh. "Your mom is - "
"Shut up. What should I wear to Homecoming?"
"Plaid. You'll match my suit."
"Oh my god."