“We could leave it here,” I suggested, casually checking my phone for a text from Zach. Nothing. “In penance for the hour of our lives wasted in this godforsaken parking lot.”
“How can you call it godforsaken?” Tasha exclaimed. “This place is magical! It’s full of so much opportunity. We could meet time travelers or find a cursed necklace.”
“Why would we want to find a cursed necklace? Wouldn’t it kill us?”
“I can’t believe you want to leave,” she said, not acknowledging my comment.
I sighed loud enough for words to be unnecessary. My broken nail found its way to my mouth and I bit it, fighting the urge to check my phone for a text I knew wasn’t there.
Tasha shrugged and mounted a new shopping cart. She twirled out of the light and around the parking lot like no one was watching, and no one was. Not even me, which I regret, because it was one of the last times I got to see Tasha as Tasha and not as a poster child for homicide.
When I imagine it, her red hair is fanned around her head like a halo, and her eyes are closed in a kind of bliss that I’d resent. There was something about Tasha that always made me inherently angry, because I knew I would never get to be her, and it wasn’t fair.
I told that to a police detective once. He asked if Tasha had any enemies. As if Tasha could ever alienate someone enough to make them want to kill her. At that point I was an emotional mess, and I just wanted to help, so I mentioned the natural jealousy that she caused. He looked at me like I’d just confessed.
“I am ninety percent convinced that if we stay here, something brilliant will happen,” Tasha called across the parking lot. She gripped the handle of the shopping cart and leaned back. Even in the dark I saw how close her head was to the ground, and it made me wince. It was a wonder she didn’t fall off and split her skull on the pavement.
It probably would’ve been better if she had.
I abandoned my place under the dingy light and followed her into the dark.
“There’s so much potential in the air,” she whispered, excited. “Can’t you feel it?”
“I can feel my patience wearing thin,” I snapped, but regretted it once I saw the disheartened look on her face. “Come on. It’s time to go.”
“One more ride,” Tasha insisted. She pushed herself toward me. “It’s your turn.”
“I don’t want to ride the stupid shopping cart,” I muttered, annoyed.
“Okay,” she said shakily, biting her lip to hide a frown. “Then I’ll ride. All night if I have to. Until the time travelers come.”
“It’s time to go,” I said, emphasizing the last word. I was so sick of humoring her pointless fantasies.
“How can you know that? Did the weatherman forecast our destinies this morning?”
She was about to smirk. I saw the early formation of it before the streetlights cut out and we were engulfed by darkness. And then I couldn’t see anything at all.
“Looks like the Fates have decided for us,” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen lit up, its weak glow barely cutting through the night. Shadow covered Tasha’s face, but I could still make out her green eyes, wide with anticipation.
“See?” Tasha beamed. “This is something.”
“This is electricity,” I retorted. “Come on, Tasha. Even the streetlights are going to bed. Time to go home.”
“Carmen,” she whined, “quit being such a grouchy face.”
“I am not being a—” I started to object, but I cut myself off when I noticed the headlights. I squinted, and through my eyelashes I surveyed a truck idling toward us. At first I didn’t recognize it and my heart skipped a beat. I fumbled for Tasha’s hand in an attempt to sedate my fear, but she was still annoyed with me and slipped her hand from my grasp. The truck came to a stop and the driver stuck his head out of the window.
It was Zach.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I thought that was you. What are you doing?”
“Just hanging out,” I said. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear in an effort to feel less flustered.
“In a parking lot?” Zach questioned. “It’s, like, almost midnight.”
“Someone felt potential in the air,” I told him. Tasha casually shifted her foot so that it rested on top of mine. She proceeded to put all of her weight on it to let me know that she was pissed. This wasn’t the adventure she’d imagined. “But it is clearly and tragically absent. Can you give us a ride?”
“Hop in,” he said. I walked over to our stuff and picked up my bag. I didn’t touch the bowling ball; I didn’t care what happened to it. I tried to brush past Tasha, but she shot me a look.
“What?” I asked sharply. “It’s late and it’s cold and I want to go home.”
“Whatever,” she sighed. She grabbed the ball and hugged it to her stomach while I got into Zach’s truck. It was a bench seat, so I awkwardly scooted toward the center when Tasha shoved her way in.
He didn’t have to ask where we lived. Our town was too small to even bother. There were about four neighborhoods, and they were all pretty close together. He’d get there eventually through trial and error.
“So,” I said meekly, trying to make the situation feel less awkward. “What were you up to tonight?”
“I went to the dance,” he replied.
Tasha snorted. “How cool.”
“Would you lay off?” I demanded, and turned to look at her. “What more were you expecting, huh? We went bowling. I listened to you ramble about potential in a parking lot for an hour while you waited for something to happen.”
Tasha’s eyes widened in shock. I never attacked her like this. Quietly, she protested, “Nothing was going to happen if we just sat at home or went to a stupid dance.”
“For all you know it could have happened there,” I said.
“That doesn’t mean it would,” she mumbled.
I heard Zach cough and I blushed, embarrassed that I was arguing in front of him. Sighing, I looked away from Tasha and stared straight ahead.
That’s the thing about Tasha that I keep forgetting: she always wanted something to happen. She never said what. It was like she expected life to hand her an adventure and she’d just go on her merry way with no consequences. She grew up thinking she lived in a fairy tale. No one knew it was actually a horror movie.
We drove in silence until Zach pulled up to a stop sign. Before I could comprehend what was going on, Tasha had unbuckled her seat belt and ducked out of the truck.
“What are you doing?” I asked, exasperated.
Tasha stepped up to the window, a grim look on her face. “Carmen,” she said slowly, urgently, “this is important. This is our chance to live and breathe and do something.”
“Do you even know what you want?”
“No.” Tasha stared at me with a glint in her eyes that said she didn’t like what she saw. “But I’m not going to find it here.”
Then she walked into the darkness, away from me. I knew that I was supposed to go after her. That was what best friends did. And we were, I reminded myself. Best friends.
But I hesitated.
Something was ending. Like a story coming to a close and there would be no epilogue, no To Be Continued.
I thought that it was the end of our friendship. I didn’t know it was the end of her life.
Anyway, my hand hovered over the door handle and I was going over the pros and cons of following her when Zach put his hand on my leg. Well, not really my leg. More like my thigh. My really upper thigh, which, now that I think about it, might’ve made it third base instead of second. But whatever. I was still staring out the window, unable to shake that sense of foreboding.