41. Hurley’s Numbers

February arrives, and with it comes the first big party of the year. At least the first one I actually hear about.

When Kelsey says that she wants to go (since her friend Georgia is going), it makes me think of the time over the summer when I went to a party with my summer-school friends. Of course Lily is gone and so is Roger, though only one is by choice. I still see Harris and Brick at school. At the time of that party I was still running around after Lily like a dog wagging its tail.

Then Kelsey strolled across my path, knowing she’d get my attention.

I haven’t seen her in anything as wow! as that outfit since, though she really has changed from the mouselike girl I met in art class.

Wonder if I’ve changed, and whether it’s been for the good or the bad?

Kelsey agrees to pick me up, which is a good thing because that also means she can bring me home.

Home to an empty house where parents won’t be around.

Maybe the timing police will have it out for me again, and my mom will finally come back home.

I’d be glad if she did, of course, because I miss her and want her back around. I don’t need her—I’m doing okay. But just knowing she’s there and safe would make my mornings and nights a whole lot better.

Before heading out, I dash on some of Uncle Robert’s cologne, then check out the new shirt and jeans I bought with my ghost-hunter money.

The mirror seems to give me a bored glance back.

Yeah, I know.

Thank goodness there’s someone on this earth who might think that a new outfit and cologne mean something.

I hear that someone knocking, and I answer the door and greet Kelsey with a kiss.

I’m not sure where this is heading, this Chris-Kelsey thing, but I don’t want to worry about that tonight.

For some reason, this party is a chance to take a break from the blues and actually try to have a little fun.

As long as they leave me alone.

The visions and nightmares and people without faces under the haunted bridge.

“You look great,” I tell Kelsey after we get into her car.

She thanks me, but something tells me I should thank her. Kelsey doesn’t wear many skirts to school, but she’s wearing one tonight. I don’t want to stare at her legs like some creepy old man, but I have to admit she’s nice to watch as she drives the car.

“Stop,” she says.

“What?”

“Stop looking at me.”

“I’m admiring you.”

“Don’t,” she says in a shy way that makes me want to watch her even more. “I hate people staring at me.”

“That time at the party in the summer. You wanted me to stare, didn’t you?”

She looks at me without saying anything and only smiles.

“Girls. You’re all the same.”

“No, we’re not.”

“I think so.”

“Sometimes you just have to get someone’s attention,” Kelsey says.

“Well, it worked.”

Again she only smiles, the way only girls can smile.

Guys just aren’t that smart. And they almost never get the things they really want.

Roger from my summer class drapes an arm around me and greets both Kelsey and me. He does it more to talk to her, which I find amusing since he probably could have talked to her anytime he wanted when he was actually going to Harrington.

“Shouldn’t you be at college?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. That didn’t work out too well.”

He’s still got the short, short beard going with the faux-hawk hair, but somehow he looks a little different.

Heavier. He looks heavier.

“Were you going to USC?” I ask.

That’s what he told everybody, but I never believed it and I still don’t. Especially since you don’t just come home for the weekend (especially in February) if you’re living in California.

“Universities are a drag,” he says, then looks Kelsey up and down. “So who are you?”

Kelsey smiles and then darts away to find someone else. Or maybe just to find the nearest bathroom to hide in.

We’re at a large house that’s close to downtown but tucked away behind woods on a hill. The kid who lives there is a sophomore. It’s the typical weekend party. Loud music and lots of kids standing around looking at other kids standing around.

“You’re always hanging out with a hottie, aren’t you?” Roger asks.

“Her name is Kelsey.”

And she would probably choke to hear she was called a hottie.

“You ever hear from Lily?”

I’m not sure if he’s joking or not.

Oli dying made news; Lily dying was different. Everybody knew Oli. He’d been part of Gus’s gang for a long time. Nobody really knew Lily.

And because of the way she died, it was easy to cover up.

I just tell Roger I’ve lost contact with Lily.

“So you getting any from Ms. Long Legs?”

Somehow I think this name is actually worse than hottie.

I look at him to see if he’s being serious, and he really is.

“You know—maybe girls would hang around you if you weren’t so …” I pause as if I’m thinking of the exact word to describe him. “You.”

Roger doesn’t seem to get it, but that’s okay. I go to find Kelsey. Ms. Long Legs Hottie herself.

I’ll just keep the names to myself.

I’d rather not be slapped tonight.

It’s around ten, and I’m bored and in the mood to go home. Kelsey is talking with Georgia, and I leave them to talk since I still get the vibe that Georgia isn’t my biggest fan. I guess after the whole Lily thing, I can understand that. Georgia doesn’t know me, and really that’s fine.

I have to use the bathroom, hoping that it’s the last thing I do before we leave. When the two bathrooms on the main floor are locked, I go down the stairs to the finished basement.

What I find is a large group—maybe about a dozen people—sitting on the wood floor in shadows, playing cards.

Playing that card game. The one I’ve seen before at parties in Solitary.

I think of the time Lily and I played this game. And Lily began to wonder what was going on in this town.

I ask where the bathroom is and someone points to a door a ways down. I’m heading back to the stairs when someone calls to me.

“Come on, Chris. Join us.”

It’s as if they were told to let me play.

“Nah, thanks anyway. Really.”

A tall kid who looks like a basketball player stares at me and says, “I think it’s probably good if you play.”

“And why’s that?”

The faces look at me, and I scan them to see if I recognize anybody. I don’t, but it sure seems like they recognize me.

“Go ahead, Chris,” the tall guy says again.

Talk about peer pressure.

I walk over to the game and reach down to pick up a card. The last time I did this, I picked up a card that matched Lily’s.

But that was fixed, right?

Lily sure didn’t know about the card game. And so far Marsh or Staunch have never said that they rigged that game on my account.

But of course they did. They had to.

Maybe this will prove that the game is ridiculous.

I put my card over the lit candle and hold it until an image appears.

It’s a number. Or maybe a year.

“1820.”

I hold the number and show it to everybody.

“I was personally hoping I’d get 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42.”

They all continue to stare at me like characters in a zombie movie.

“You know—Hurley’s numbers,” I say with a laugh.

Nobody laughs with me.

I nod and then leave as fast as I can.

I recall being told that a number means that there’s a task you’ll have to do.

But who’s going to tell me what to do? Marsh? Kinner? Maybe Mounds?

The very thought of Kinner makes me want to torch the card. I slip it into my pocket so that Kelsey doesn’t see it. When I find her, she asks where I was.

“Just getting a tour of the house,” I say. “You want to stay much longer?”

She shakes her head and gives me a serious look.

Are you thinking the same thing I’m thinking?

But I have enough thoughts going on inside my head for the both of us. I glance at Georgia, who still mostly ignores me.

“Good night, Georgia,” I say just to make sure I get her attention.

“Good night,” she says in a mocking way that proves she totally hates me.

I leave the party finally doing what I’ve wanted to do since Kelsey showed up at my door.

Being alone. With her.