47 Seat Belts

Sometime later I found myself standing in front of Claire's house. It was getting close to the evening, fast winter twilight starting its short grey reign over the city. I was lingering in front of the door, thinking over what I was going to tell her. My thoughts were scrambled, and the right words weren't coming. Finally, I rang the doorbell, still unsure of why I came here, and what I was going to do.

Nelly opened the door, seemingly unperturbed to see me standing there, uninvited.

'Hey, Nelly. Is Claire home?'

She shook he head.

'Oh.'

Nelly raised an eyebrow. 'Why?'

'I just... wanted to talk to her, that's all.

She extended her thumb and her little finger, raising them to her ear with a silent question.

'It's sort of... not a phone type of the conversation, I think.'

Nelly gave me a long look, then moved aside and gestured me to come in.

Their house didn't change much since I was here last. I stepped inside, and she closed the door, not wanting to let the cold in. Then she disappeared for a few seconds to retrieve her notebook. I waited patiently until she finished writing.

'Claire's at Sam's. Some posh promotion party or smth.'

I looked at the page, blinking. Somehow I've managed to completely forget about the existence of Sam Howard, with his smug handsome smile and expensive tweed sport coats.

'Right.'

I looked down, then at the posters hanging on the walls. Tanya's words rang in my head. Tanya, who decided what she wanted, and then went and took it. Tanya, who was living in a cozy house with a man she loved, and the secrets she kept, and the shadows that clung to the corners without giving her pause, or nightmares. I wasn't like Tanya. I didn't know what I wanted.

But I felt it.

'Can I get an address?'

Nelly look slightly surprised, but she did write it down for me on a piece of paper.

I took it and tried to smile.

'Thanks.'

I turned to go, but she stopped me, touching me lightly on the shoulder. Her pen froze over the notebook, and then carefully wrote.

'Are you OK?"

I stood there for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.

'I don't know.'

Then I thought a little more, Nelly looking at me with concern.

'Hey, can I tell you a story?'

She nodded.

'When I was little, my dad took me to an amusement park. That was the first time I've seen him, and the last. And my mom was still alive back then. Anyway, I really wanted to go on a roller coaster, because I've never ridden one before. He asked me if I was going to be okay, and I said yes, sure. He said that once we got on the ride and the seat belts clicked, there'll be no way back. I said that's not a problem. So we got in the seats, and the cart started slowly climbing up.'

The memory was so vivid in my mind, it was almost like I was there again, in that warm, dreamy summer day.

'And as it got higher and higher, I got more and more scared. The ground was so far away. And the drop was getting closer. I didn't want my dad to think that I'm a coward, so I put on a brave face, but really, I was terrified out of my mind. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. Truth is, I think I am a bit of a coward.'

'But then we got to the fall, and the cart lunged down so fast, it was like we were flying. And suddenly I wasn't terrified anymore. The fear was still there, but it was overshadowed by this vast, deep feeling of exhilaration. It was so strong I felt my toes tingling. I still wasn't sure we were not plunging to our deaths, but somehow it didn't matter anymore.'

I looked at Nelly and shook my head.

'I guess that's how I feel now. Am I making any sense?'

She shrugged, and then wrote:

'Sort of?'

I pointed to the piece of paper with Sam's address.

'Thank you, Nelly. For this, and for asking. Means a lot.'

I didn't tell her the most important part, though. That it didn't really matter how I felt, if I was scared or not. Because the belts had already clicked.

'Take care.'

#

Sam's house was as pretty and featureless as its owner. It was nice, I guess. Sam was nice. Still, I couldn't help but despise him and everything connected to him. It was petty, but maybe not irrational. Only people who have never had nothing judged jealousy as sin. Sam was handsome, Sam was successful. Sam was going to live longer than me. Sam was human.

Sam had Claire.

Why wouldn't I hate him? All the injustices I have endured, all the things I wanted but would never possess were there, in that nice, tidy house. In that moment, I hated Sam more than I have ever hated anyone or anything.

Except maybe the Protector.

There was soft music coming from the windows and the sound of friendly chatter. I had no doubt that Sam had a great taste in music and great fucking friends. Whom he never had to lie to. Who never called him a coward and a traitor.

I winced and rang the doorbell.

Some guy I didn't recognize opened it and gave me a cheerful smile.

'Hey! You're here for Sam's party?'

I hesitated.

'Sort of.'

'Come in!'

I walked in, bringing a bit of snow and mud with me. My fingers were tingling.

It was warm inside, so I unwrapped myself from the Affects I was using against the cold. There were lots of people around, some of whom I recognized from the university halls.

'Are you one of Sam's students?'

I looked back to the guy who let me in.

'No.'

'Oh, okay. Well, he's here somewhere. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you! Make yourself at home!'

He left me alone, and I looked around, hoping to see Claire. Instead, I saw Sam. He was in the middle of a conversation, smiling charmingly, a glass of champagne in one hand. He saw me, too, and for a moment there was a hint of something, maybe irritation, in his eyes. But that damn smile never went away. He excused himself and walked to me.

'Matthew! What an unexpected surprise. What brings you to my humble abode?'

His tone was pleasant, but openly unwelcoming. I moved my shoulders, uncomfortable, and looked away.

'I... uh...'

'Is everything okay? You look a little pale.'

I briefly wondered if there was a veiled insult somewhere in there, but wrote it off to Sam's general demeanor getting on my nerves. More than usual.

'I'm fine. Hey, have you seen Claire? Nelly told me she was here.'

'She did, huh?'

I waited patiently for him to continue, but he just stood there, smiling at me. I imagined wiping the smile off his face with my fist.

'Uh, anyway, I really need to talk to her. Can you point me to where she is?'

He stared at me, then slowly put his champagne glass on a nearby shelf.

'No, Matt. I'm afraid I can't.'

His voice was cold, and there was a strange gleam in his eyes. I blinked, trying to reevaluate the situation. It wasn't just in my head: there was definitely hostility in his words. He was standing a little bit too close, his posture a little bit too relaxed. What the hell has gotten into him?

'Listen, man. I just want to talk to Claire.'

His smile widened.

'Do you, Matt? Good for you. Do you know what I want... man?'

How many fucking glasses of champagne had he drunk?

Sam raised his finger and pointed it to my chest.

'I want you to get lost, Matt.'

He poked me in the chest, forcing me to step back.

'I want you to get the fuck out of here. That'd be great.'

He poked me again, and I took another step, my back brushing against the door. People were staring now. My confusion quickly gave way to anger, and a part of me felt exhilaration at the prospect of open confrontation with this piece of shit.

'I swear, Sam, touch me again and I...'

'And you'll what? Come to my house uninvited? Try to ruin my party?'

'What the fuck...'

He lunged forward and pushed me with both hands, crashing me into the door. It opened wide, and I rolled onto the porch, hitting my face on the hard wood. The snow softened the blow a little, but I still tasted blood on my tongue.

I started to get up, disoriented, and saw Sam coming out of the house, towering over me like, like...

Mitchel's face flashed red before my eyes.

And by the time I was back on my feet, my mind was gone, gone, gone.

And the murderous rage that consumed me was free, free, free.