Before Heaven

Chapter 4

III

One week in.

Nine days, more specifically. Alice and I had continued to periodically meet up during our free time, during group sessions, once during an assembly – as much as it surprised me, we'd bonded. Alice was almost stupidly friendly, and I suspected it was because we were the same age; they were empathetic, they always spared an ear to listen what I had to say and offered their own honest comments and opinions on the matter, and they actually made me feel a little more secure in the Nest. I still wanted my parents to pick me up, but repeated visits to the internet revealed Mom and Dad were, predictably, still soaking up the fame from their d**k move like a couple of glamorous sponges. Pricks. We met up around the cafeteria, most of the time, instead of any of the Nest's community areas. The cafeteria was open from 7:30 AM to 9:30 PM, so there was always time to hang around. Only a few other people tended to frequent it, and I found Arno, Ken, and Daria were the other three regulars. The other one was Billy.

Billy Mackel, #93, was a thug if I ever saw one. He had greasy blonde hair, unflinching blue eyes, and favored sweaters and shirts printed with heavy metal album covers, stuff like Mtley Crüe's Dr. Feelgood. He always had in jet-black earbuds plugged into an MP3 player he'd decorated with a little sticker of a cartoon skull. It was kind of cute. Billy was not. He spat on his knuckles and threatened to punch me with them the one time I had the misfortune of accidentally walking into him. It was the only interaction we'd ever had but it set my opinion of him in pretty firm stone. He always gave us cold glares whenever we entered the cafeteria. He always gave us cold glares whenever he entered the cafeteria. We always sat as far away from him as we could; Arno, Ken, and Daria always sat at the right-wall table in the very middle of the row. Billy sat wherever, as did me and Alice; we seemed to mutually resent each other and we avoided each other. Thank God; he seemed like the person who'd stab me if I looked at him for too long. There were rumors Billy was a sociopath and even more that he'd actually killed people, but surely Red Clover wouldn't allow murdering scum into their program, would they?

On the morning of the ninth day, I met up with Alice as per usual. I got an omelette and a chocolate milk – my usual, now – and Alice just got a latte. With a lot of added sugar. It was bizarre enough they were keen on drinking coffee. Not so bizarre that they had a sweet tooth, as they were happy to confess. We took a seat two tables down from where Arno, Ken, and Daria sat; two other applicants were at the cafe, helping themselves to a waffle drowned in Canadian maple syrup – something Alice professed to being absolutely wonderful – and another with a meal of eggs and bacon. Quite appropriate for breakfast. Quite a bit moreso than a hamburger.

"So," I said, "Dad once forced me onto his little show. Winter Tonight, if you've ever seen it. Obnoxious little talk show he's got there. I never get any chance to saying anything aside from what he's scripted. I'm supposed to speak my mind, but do you think that asshole would let his own son chew him out on public television? The crowd would go nuts!"

Alice laughed. "No kidding, there! I think my dad watched that show when I was still at home. Think he liked it."

I remembered that Alice's dad – Sheldon, if I remembered the profile correctly – was apparently dead.

"What happened to your father?" I asked, genuinely curious for Alice's feedback.

Alice shrugged. "No clue. Ran away from home and never really saw him again."

I frowned. "Why'd you even run away to begin with, man? It must be hard out on the streets."

"Kinda was," Alice said, scratching their chin, "but between you and me... my parents weren't really the best. It's a subject I'm sort of uncomfortable talking about."

I nodded, trying my best to respect their privacy. "I won't dig in. Mom and Dad, to me, are... well, neglectful. I'm half-convinced I'm nothing but a tool to them. Just another hand to reach in the troves of fame they already got."

Alice took a sip of their latte and looked me in the eyes. "Don't believe that, Jackson. No parent should ever view their kid as a tool. And I'm sure yours don't."

I smiled in appreciation. I had something of an urge to tell them they didn't know anything about my parents and they'd probably come to my conclusion if they were in my shoes, but Alice's tone was so sincere I sort of believed it. I wanted to believe it, anyways; if Alice's parents were anything like mine, they might have been able to relate, somewhat. At least someone wasn't shining a spotlight on them every second of their lives.

I looked behind Alice. I suddenly realized Arno, up ahead, was looking at me. His hands were clasping the hamburger, but he wasn't eating it. He was just staring at me, stock-still. His eyes were tiny, but looking into them made them seem uncomfortably massive. Daria wasn't sitting with him; Ken was, but he was nervously whispering something into Arno's ear and he wouldn't stop. Alice looked at me in confusion as I stopped talking and looked back, realizing Arno was looking at us. I felt an overwhelming urge to move before Alice suddenly smiled and waved.

Yes. Wave at the intimidating giant just silently glaring at me like some creepy pervert asshole on the subway. That was a magnificent idea.

Arno got up. Ken did so as if on cue, and they both walked up to us as I shrunk back, terrified. Arno leaned onto the bench, completely ignoring Alice – who stared at Ken with the dorkiest of grins on their face – and stared right at me. I couldn't peer my eyes away from him. His eyes were like glue. Hot, judgmental glue on a face you'd expect to see mugging you in a dark alley.

"Y-Y-Y-You..." Arno said, suddenly devolving into formless stuttering. His voice was deep, a baritone, as I was expecting, but surprisingly, it was quivering and unsure. Finally, he took a breath and did his best to focus his words, truncating it to the point where he could speak lucidly. "Y-You're W-W-Winters. I-Ice Co-Couple," he said.

Surprisingly juvenile sentence. Regardless, I deadpanned at his obvious remark. "The one and only. Want an autograph or are you just here to point out the obvious?"

I realized I sound extremely contemptuous at that point. I didn't really care; if I was just going to be recognized as the Ice Couple's son, forget it.

Arno didn't seem to notice or care about my biting tone. Ken whispered something into his eyes, and Arno's eyes briefly flicked over to his gaunt companion before refocusing on me. "...K-Ken. B-B-Big f-f-fan."

I looked at Ken. He seemed to withdraw a bit behind the massive wall of meat that was his companion. He seemed about as threatening as a wet piece of paper, maybe a disabled puppy. A single glance was enough to break. Maybe it was just because he was linguistically challenged in this environment; maybe he was just shy as s**t.

"Well, pleasure to meet you," I said, not really caring if he understood or not. "I'm not enthused to be here. Nor am I enthused to be Mr. Winters. Remember I'm an unwilling puppet next time you see my ass on Winter Tonight."

Vacant stare from Ken. Of course everything I'd said had gone over his head. Alice was just staring at him in amusement at this point, and Arno eventually just turned to Ken and quietly spoke into his ear, presumably translating what I'd said into terms he could understand. After about sixteen seconds of awkward silence, during which I did nothing and Alice sipped from their latte, Ken eventually nodded. Arno looked back at me.

"...H-He w-w-will," Arno said. He signaled to his name tag to give us his name – apparently assuming I didn't know already – then did the same to Ken's, before abruptly turning back, the hamburger still in his hand and dripping a bit on the floor, and walking out of the cafe.

I blinked. That just happened. Didn't know what to make of it.

"So," Alice said, causing me to jump and look back at them, "I've been trying to talk to Jen. Haven't had much luck."

Trying my best to push the encounter with Arno and Ken out of my mind, I looked back at Alice, nodding and still alarmed at their sudden change of subject. "Uh-huh. Tell me about it."

I'd only seen a few glimpses of Jenny. She was, indeed, a mystery. She put exactly zero effort into making herself look presentable. She always had messed-up, chestnut hair, never washed, never brushed, always tangled and knotted and in a hundred places in once. She wore casual tank-tops and shorts. Nothing else. Her skin was a little pale, her eyes dirty brown, and her face – from the glimpses I'd seen of it – always hesitant, angry, and irritated. She literally hissed at anyone who made eye contact with her and didn't say anything. Jack-squat. She was anti-social as all get-out and nobody knew anything about her, just that Tara had brought her in for some weird purpose that hadn't been disclosed from Tempe, Arizona. She didn't talk to anyone, resided in her room almost 24/7 – only exiting to do things on her lonesome, taking food from the cafe just before it closed, going off to the swimming pool, staying out of the eye of everyone – and established zero contact with anyone. During assemblies and group sessions, Jenny just sat on her lonesome, withdrawn and shivering, and didn't talk to anyone. It was sort of a pity.

"Well," Alice said, "I tried entering her room. She gave me a rude finger and told me to go away. I tried again yesterday. Same thing and she threatened to stab me this time." Alice beamed. Very inappropriate. "Still trying, though!"

I nodded. "Maybe you should lay off. If she gets physically violent-"

"-She won't," Alice said, instantly cutting me off. "I can see it in her. She's just... lonely. She's waiting for something to happen. I bet I can make that happen."

I wanted to argue. Once again, Alice seemed so sure in their conviction – so utterly sincere in their tone and so determined that they could do this – that I felt no urge to argue. At best, it would be a fruitless endeavor that wasn't worth the while.

"...Alright. Be careful, though," I said, sighing.

"Don't worry about me, Jackson," they said. "It's fine. It'll all be fine."

I sure wished I could believe that.