Before Everything and After

Bumping down Stoner's Lane, everything is starting to clear up. I don't feel half as high anymore, which is good, especially considering the situation. My palms are clammy. I glance over at Marissa, who is staring at her hands like they're the most interesting things ever. I hand her my water bottle and she stares at it.

"You need to get that shit out of your system, so drink up."

She nods slowly and unscrews the top. She takes a gulp and then stops. "Nick, where are we going?"

I sigh. "Well, I don't have a basement or a tornado shelter or the like. Do you?"

She ponders this. "No."

"Well, the only person I know that has any of those is Tyler. Do you think we should risk it?"

Marissa sighs, and then shrugs. "Do what you want, babe. I'm too out of it to think great right now." She continues sipping at my water bottle.

I nod and think about it. If we go to Tyler's and he's okay, who's to say that he'll stay okay? If we go to Tyler's and he's not okay, do we kill him? My eyes start to tear up when I think of killing my best friend. No, that's out of the question, unless of course he comes after us first. Then, I still can't even fathom killing him. Slowing him down, that's what we'll do. Like cut off his legs or something.

And what about Marissa? She's already high as a kite. We both need to sober up. I look at my gas gauge and see that I'm running low. I'll have to fill up before anything, just in case. It's a good thing I have food in here too, on the chance we get caught out on the road and have to keep going. And I might want to go ahead and drop by home and pick up a rifle or something.

After all those years of being offered zombie video games and turning them down, I could've been a little more prepared. Damn my aversion to video games.

I've made it to a gas station with no problems, and I fill up as quickly as possible. I glance around from paranoia the whole time. I'm not going to admit it to Marissa, but I'm scared out of my wits.

When I jump back into the truck and start the engine, Marissa jumps out of her water-sipping reverie and glares at me. "I thought you had left me," she accuses, her eyes sad but sharper than before. As long as she's getting sober, I don't care.

"No, I had to get more gas," I tell her softly.

"Nick, can you promise me something?"

I stare at her for a few moments and then start driving slowly out of the gas station. "Sure, anything."

She takes a shaky breath. "I love living, Nick. I'm not exactly proud that I've spent almost a third of my life high, but I don't regret anything. But I don't want to be a zombie." She pauses to take another sip of water. "If I become a zombie, I want you to kill me. And only you. And I want to it done fast and painless, if you don't mind."

I gulp. "Mar-mar… I don't know about that."

"Please!" she barks at me, the one word holding every hope and fear she has in the air. "Please, Nick. I trust you."

I sigh. The road blurs with tears that won't fall. The girl I have a crush on wants me to kill her. Even though I don't want to do it, I nod anyway. "Of course." The words are clipped and formal, as if she just asked me if I was nervous about going to college next year. That is, if we make it through this.

Marissa places her quivering hand on my thigh. "Thank you, Nick. You don't know how much that means to me."

I nod and continue to drive, quietly willing the tears not to fall, because I have to be strong enough for both of us. No one else will be.