Amy & Roger's Epic Detour

“Absolutely,” I said, as though I was sure. And to prove it, I started kissing him again. We stumbled backward together until we hit his bed. I sat on the edge of it while Michael cleared it off hurriedly, then stepped out of his khakis and yanked off his tube socks. “The light?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“Right, sure,” he said, crossing back to the door, locking it, then flipping the switch and throwing us both into the dark.

Have you ever been down to Colorado? I spend a lot of time there in my mind.

—Merle Haggard

I let myself in the front door of the International House. I wanted to go to Bronwyn’s room, clear a spot on the floor for myself, and go to sleep. I just wanted to close my eyes and make it all go away for a little while.

“Sullivan?” a voice called from the TV room. I paused, one foot on the stairs that would lead me to peace and quiet. “That you?” the voice asked, sounding a little desperate this time. I sighed, turned, and walked toward it.

Leonard was still on the couch, and it looked like he might not have moved in the last few hours, except that he had put on a T-shirt, a faded yellow one that read CALL ME KEVIN. “Hey,” I said. He was still playing his game, only now it seemed the terrain was different. It looked rockier now, and less sylvan.

He turned his head and looked at me. “Oh,” he said. “I thought you were Roger.”

“I think he’s still at the party,” I said. “I left early,” I added unnecessarily, just to have something to say. “I was just … tired.”

He kept looking at me, as the game continued on behind him. “You look different,” he finally said.

“Oh,” I said, tugging the hem of Bronwyn’s skirt down. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s good,” he concluded after looking at me for a moment longer. “Nice.” He nodded once more, then turned back to the game, jumping out of the way of some kind of wolf creature just in time to avoid being killed. As I watched, words in flourishy type flashed across the screen. Quickly You must save Princess Jenna!

“Princess Jenna?” I asked, and saw the tips of Leonard’s ears turn red.

“Yeah,” he said, with an embarrassed laugh. “Her real name is Princess Arundel. But I figured out how to hack the game and change it.”

“So who’s Jenna?” I asked, as he flushed again.

“Nobody,” he said with a shrug. “Just this girl in my chem class. Whatever.”

“Okay,” I said, but I noticed that he suddenly wasn’t playing as well, as three gnomes appeared and began kicking him in the shins. I stared at the screen, as buff virtual Leonard shook off the gnomes and began dashing across the rocks again. “What’s the appeal?” I asked.

“Of Honour Quest?” he asked, not looking away from the game, fingers jabbing the buttons on the controller.

“Yeah,” I said. “You just run around and try not to let the wolves get you?”

“Lupine were-demons,” he corrected me. “And it’s not just running around. I’m on a quest.”

“For what?”

“We think it’s to save Arundel. Or, you know, Jenna.”

“You think?” I asked, leaning over the back of the couch.

“The end of Honour Quest is a carefully guarded secret. Nobody I know has finished it yet. And really, it’s not about the destination. It’s getting there that’s the good part. But there have been rumors that the princess isn’t the final goal. That at the end of it, the game reboots and you’re on a new quest. And you’ve actually just spent this quest gaining knowledge and strength and faerie acorns in preparation for it. Which would be sweet.”

“Got it,” I said, watching him onscreen for a moment longer, running full-out toward an ending he wasn’t even sure of. I shook

Quickly! You must save Princess my head. “’Night, Leonard,” I said, as I headed toward the stairs.

“Totally,” he said. “You too. Goddamn orcs,” he muttered as he began slaying again with a vengeance.

I headed up the stairs to Bronwyn’s room and pushed open the door. The room was dark, and I was about to turn the lights on when I saw that Bronwyn was in bed, sleeping, her breath slow and rhythmic. I hadn’t even realized she’d left the party. Using the light spilling in from the hallway, I looked around the room and saw that alongside her bed, she’d laid out a sleeping bag for me, with a neatly folded green T-shirt and sweatpants on top of it.

It seemed easier to just change into these rather than try to deal with my suitcase in the dark. I closed the door and changed, trying to make as little noise as possible. But Bronwyn seemed to be a pretty deep sleeper, which was a good thing. Because I’d just wanted to go to sleep, anyway. If she’d been awake, we probably would have had to talk about the party, and I could have told her about Bradley. But now I didn’t have to, so it worked out.

I pulled the sleeping bag around my shoulders, hoping that whatever magic had worked the last two nights would work tonight, and I could just go to sleep. I wanted to block out the memories of Michael and stop remembering that night. But as soon as I closed my eyes, all I could see was his face, and I knew that probably wasn’t going to happen.

Those memories so steeped in yesterday. Those memories you couldn’t run away.

—Ember FX

MARCH 11—THREE MONTHS EARLIER

I sat on the edge of Michael’s bed and put my bra back on, getting the hooks wrong but not really caring. Michael was rubbing my back in slow circles, and I moved away from him under the pretense of getting my shirt. But mostly, I just didn’t want him to touch me anymore. I pulled on the tank top with hands that were shaking slightly.

“You okay?” he asked from the bed, where he was sitting up, still under the sheet. I wondered why I’d never noticed before that the whole room smelled like pizza.

“I’m fine,” I said brightly, but I could hear the edge of hysteria in my voice. I found my skirt balled up under the bed and I smoothed it out, then pulled it on, standing to zip it.

“Hey,” Michael said, sounding concerned. He held out his hand to me. “Come here.”

I didn’t want to go there. All I wanted was to get out of his room as soon as I could, and, if possible, go back in time and erase the last twenty minutes. “I should get going,” I said, trying to keep at bay whatever was threatening to break apart inside me. I looked around for my black heels, but they seemed to have vanished.