36
Lexie waited in the hallway outside the psych lab, Dr. Fern’s book in her backpack, and another book splayed on her lap. She was failing Comp Lit, Spanish 101, and, ironically, barely making it through Professor Ritke’s language class. New agenda item, Lexie thought, take easier classes next year. If she made it to next year. Another agenda item, Lexie thought. If I make it to next year, start keeping an agenda.
She struck her highlighter across a passage that sounded important, though she was only half-reading. Each tiny sound tickled her ears as she waited for Duane to arrive to set up the lab for his next subject.
Lexie reread the same passage for thirty minutes before she finally heard the soft soles of Duane’s sneakers against the marble steps.
She sprang up and met him at the landing. He gasped and brought his hand to his face.
“Jesus!” he shouted.
“Sorry,” Lexie said, surprised by her own energy, whether it was nervous or impatient or otherwise.
Duane rushed up the stairs, and Lexie bounced alongside him. “You could’ve just responded to one of my texts,” he said.
“I needed to see that thing again,” Lexie replied.
“Are you serious?” Duane scoffed. “After what happened last time?”
Duane hurried up a second flight of stairs, clutching his books to his chest and avoiding eye contact. Lexie fought to stay apace.
“It was … a part of me.” Each word eked from her mouth like a drop from a shut spigot. This wasn’t going as she planned. “It was … ”
“A Rare,” Duane said, stopping at the landing and facing her.
“No!” Lexie protested, but she could hear the lie just as clearly as Duane could.
“I was nose-to-nose with one, Lex,” Duane said. “I remember it all.”
Lexie bit her lips and nodded, her bounces ceasing.
“Is that … how they all are?” he asked.
Lexie shook her head. “Some of them are all wolves, all the time. The bad ones are.”
“But you’re … ”
“A good one,” Lexie said, willing it to be true for more than her wolf. “And new.”
“What about the one that killed—?”
“I don’t know,” Lexie interrupted. “I don’t know what it was.” The sentence caught in her throat but she pushed through it, a better lie than the last.
“I’ve been going through a lot.” She rushed to fill the silence before he could examine her lie. “I know you have too, and I’m really sorry about scaring you and running off and passing out and, like, booting all over your shoes. It’s just that there’s a lot going on at home, and in my head, and none of it makes sense … ” Through her babbling, she pleaded for Duane to find something, anything, to ask about other than his attack. She’d fill his brain with the volumes she knew about absolutely everything other than this.
He didn’t ask anything else, but watched like she was descending into true insanity, aghast as she unloaded all the flotsam in her brain. He stood, quiet, and then pushed through the heavy door into the hallway. Lexie chased after him, wanting to scream.
“ That electricity thing,” Lexie said, catching up. “How did it work?”
“The EEG?” Duane asked, shaking himself into presence. “Um, it’s just low amplification of your ion movement. It doesn’t really do anything, just measures your brain’s voltage.”
“It has to do something,” Lexie said.
“No, it’s like holding a stethoscope up to your chest and blaming that for your heartbeat. It doesn’t do anything but listen.”
“You said it amplifies.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t put the amplifications back in your skull. It measures, amplifies, and reports. There is no way this would make that … thing … happen.”
“What about the other device?”
“The Octopus?” Duane asked.
“The what?” Lexie said.
“It’s just what they call the solenoids.” Duane shrugged, exasperated. He fumbled with his keys outside the lab door. “It’s a low-level magnetic pulse that’s supposed to stimulate your temporal lobe and generate a different sensation.”
“What kind of different sensation?”
“A professor called it the God Helmet because he thought it inspired the feeling of another presence. Some people felt it was God, others thought aliens or ghosts.”
“You hooked me up expecting me to see God, and you didn’t tell me?”
“It was a blind study, Lex, the point is not to tell you. And no, I didn’t expect you to see anything. I think it’s bullshit; the guy’s results have never been perfectly replicated. My starting thesis was that it’s all placebo.” Duane unlocked his lab and Lexie followed him inside.
“Well, I want one.”
“One what?”
“The machine. The squid.”
“Octopus, and no.” He pushed through the door into the lab.
“Why not?”
“It’s not mine to give! Besides, I saw what happened to you. I’m not going to just let you steal school equipment so you can ralph on more shoes.”
Lexie gave him a look.
“ And turn into a fricking wolf,” Duane said, lowering his voice into a furtive plea.
“Just ask your prof!” Lexie said. “It’s not like you aren’t a fucking golden boy around here. Everyone loves you. Tell them you’re doing an independent project, and they’ll probably write you a check for funding.”
“Lexie, I’m assuming you haven’t noticed, but I’m barely holding on here. I never sleep anymore, my grades are slipping, and I can’t focus on anything. I’m no one’s golden boy. I’m just damaged.” He turned away from her and busied himself with some files.
“I need that machine, Duane.”
“Why?!“
Lexie hesitated. He was another potential body to put on the front line. But no, Duane didn’t need more trauma in his life. “I can’t tell you.”
“Compelling argument.”
“Dammit, Duane, this is a life-or-death situation! I thought you were my friend.”
Duane rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know what that means.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because every time we hang out, it’s about what you need from me. You want me to investigate Rory, to help you with your homework, to listen to you bitch about your roommates.”
“I saved your life!”
“Yeah well, thanks for that. Now I get a life where everything triggers me into near catatonia, and I get to relive the evisceration of my friends every night. You really got me out of a bind.”
“You’re the one who chased me down, Duane. You’re the one who’s always wanting to hang out, inviting me out, wanting to spend time. Don’t blame me for coming to you when I need a friend, and don’t blame me for not giving you more when that’s clearly what you want.”
“What? Who told you that?” Duane said, dropping the files and turning to face her.
“No one. It’s obvious. You follow me around like a lost puppy.”
“Because you’re my only real friend.”
“You have plenty of friends.”
“None like you. They all talk shit about this place all the time. And if they’re not hating on my hometown, they’re only talking about trying to get laid, or I don’t know, sports teams I don’t really care about. I just like spending time with you. You make me feel like not such a weirdo.”
“You are a weirdo, Duane, because you like interesting things. And normal people don’t like interesting things. They like simple things. And you’re not simple.”
“And neither are you.”
“Fuck no.”
Duane and Lexie stood in the dark laboratory, locked in a standoff of ego and hurt feelings.
“I do like you,” Duane said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a creeper.”
“You haven’t been a creeper, Duane. You’re like the opposite of a creeper. You’re one of the good ones. You’re the kindest, gentlest guy I know.” Lexie reached for his hand, and although she felt like they were two magnets pointed the wrong way, she fought the resistance and grasped his hand in hers. “It’s just … that’s not enough for me to like you back.” She flinched at the harsh truth, but Duane didn’t. He just smiled his shy smile and nodded. Lexie spoke again, “I’m sorry my complicated life is getting all over you.”
Duane chuckled. “I was going to say the same thing.” He squeezed her hand. “Can you please tell me what’s going on? I feel so alone in this.”
“I will, Duane. I promise. Just not now.” Lexie pulled her hand away. “I will tell you one thing: that Rare isn’t going to hurt you again. And if any other Rare tries to, I’ll kill it. I promise.”
“What?”
“It’s what I’m here for Duane. You’re my people. I won’t let you get hurt again.”
In light of their fight and reconciliation, Lexie felt bad for waiting until Duane took a bathroom break to root through his lab and steal the Octopus and a handful of the EEG electrodes.
She’d return them later. He’d understand. Duane was a nice guy.