The Adolescent Sky

[D/N]

(Deanna Hull continued from Broken Hearts of Gold)

It was late afternoon. Ish. She could figure that out from the sun. Not close to setting yet; it was still summertime, wherever the hell they were. But it was lower. It was older.

Weren't they all.

"Hey," Dee said. "Made it."

That skateboard Kyran'd found made it easy to spot. Stupid Joe, with his lame attempt at a monument or whatever. Dee managed the last few paces to where grass met dirt, then stood there, toeing the edge.

Now that she'd made it, she was only half sure it was worth the trouble.

"I dunno what I'm doing now. I just felt like coming here."

She needed to sit down. She'd been short of breath the last little while. The second wound was totally shallow and maybe just scratched a rib; sure, the first one was deeper, but it was too low to hit her lungs. So they were fine and so was the rest of her. Dee was just short of breath because she was tired and had lost some blood, yeah, and those bandages were tight enough to feel like a corset at times so she was gonna sit down.

She folded her legs beneath her on the grass and talked.

"I guess I thought... I dunno, I felt better when I was like crying before and acting like you were there? I was all being sorry for myself. So I wanted to come back. And see you."

Dee cleared her throat. Christ. This was more awkward than getting stabbed. She opened her bag to clear her mind for a second and there was nothing left in it but a half-filled water bottle, her other shoes, and the Freddy Krueger glove. Was that all she had left? Things go missing, things get used, things get tossed away, and soon enough that's all. Lesson to be learned.

"We should've just stuck together with the birds, you know? We coulda stayed there, the whole time. It would've been nice. Dumb dumb move. Fish move."

Whose idea had it been to leave in the first place? She couldn't quite remember, not that that was anything new here. Those mental lapses, that almost-amnesia feeling had been ramping up again since she'd left the apartments.

It had been her idea, she thought. Her stupid idea, although maybe she'd only brought it up because she knew that Kyran couldn't keep babysitting Dee and Dee alone. Yeah. That was it. Kyran was getting all brooding about the other kids dying and killing, and he wouldn't have been happy to sit around any longer. They were both to blame, and that made Deanna smile.

She finished off her last water bottle and threw it as far as she could. It went about five feet.

"Sorry, I'm clingy. I know it. Not like in a grabby, always-talking sort of way, except for now I guess, but I mean, even the last month or so with Whitney... Mac, when we could both tell it had gone kinda sour I was still thinking it needed to work out and when he broke it off... I was so panicky at first. Like the world was ending. Even though I knew we weren't... hey, you wanna know a secret?"

She leaned over on her side, her good side, and whispered conspiratorially at the grave.

"Just between us? I think he might be gay, actually."

A pause.

"Fuck I hope I didn't just out him there."

Dee laughed, until it flared in her gut again. It was weird. It was aching, not where the injuries were. Right below them. Her basic intro-to-first-aid and candystriping courses hadn't warned her about that, at least as far as she could remember.

"I mean..."

She touched her side, where KK's second blow landed, and there were tears again in her eyes just like that.

"Sorry. Sorry... if... I know it's both of us but I know I still fucked everything up and I'm so fucking sorry Kyran and everyone and god I dunno, god. God. Sorry I... can I pray?"

Dee closed her eyes and mouthed something, then spoke again.

"I'm tired."

She brushed a finger against the spot, right at her waistband. Her jeans pocket was below it, and she reached into the pool that had gathered there and fished out Whitney's lasting legacy, the case with one clove cigarette left. It dripped all over the place. Waterproof. Good thing.

Dee opened the case, looked inside. She closed it again.

She leaned back over the grave, resting her elbow on the skateboard.

"I... it's all got to count for something though, right? I mean, Ruby Forrester, she pretty much saved my life and I didn't do anything like that back to her but we traveled together. And Ami Flynn. She was going to kill herself, I found her with a gun for a head. I tried to help her. I think I did. Joe Carrasco. He told me it was an accident. He hated it. I believed him. I don't know. I think you would've believed him. I don't think you would've... because you didn't right? So neither did I. Tried to.. KK, though. Fuck her. We both could've killed her."

Straightening up a bit, Dee opened the case one more time, plucked out the clove flavor, and put it between chapped lips. Why not? Seriously, now or later, and she really could use a pick-me-up.

"Oh, you're kidding me."

She looked back inside her bag, patted her pockets, and at some point, she couldn't even begin to remember when, she'd lost her lighter, too.

Dee chuckled, and laughed a bit more freely when it didn't hurt at all this time. She took an imaginary drag, put the cig back in the case, closed it, and dropped it on the ground next to her bag.

"You know, I can still taste the honey."

She leaned back on her side, stretched out, and rested her head on the skateboard. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Dee lay there for close to an hour. Just resting.

She was a fish.

And a bird.

She could swim and she could fly.


G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED