The Ascension of Laney: Chapters 1-5

two

Kass

"Kass, what the hell?" Miguel, my best friend and partner on this mission, asks as I follow him through the door of our shared apartment.

"What?" I respond, knowing damn well what.

"You know damn well what!" he yells. We've been working together for the past four years and have lived with each other on each mission. It's like we can hear each other's thoughts, but fortunately, that's not one of our many... talents.

I give him the look, you know the one. The fake 'I don't know what you're talking about, so you better cut the shit' look. He doesn't buy it and gives me a 'you know exactly what I'm talking about, so you cut the shit' look. We're both pretty fluent in face speak. It can get rather entertaining in a crowd. But even still, I can't tell him the truth so I shrug and turn away.

"No, no, no, don't give me the shrug and look away. Something is up with you and this girl, and as your partner, I need to know what that is."

"There's nothing going on. Today was the first time I've ever seen her, how could there possibly be anything going on?" Well, the first time since before, but he doesn't know that. No one will ever know. My memories from before should have been wiped out. Everyone else's were, but the past year I've been getting flashbacks to what my life was like and I've gotten back most of the two or three years before I became what I am now, right up until the day it happened. She was a prominent figure in those years and maybe even before then.

"Man, I don't know, but she definitely recognized you. Maybe she's from your past."

"Maybe, or maybe she just thought I was crazy. You know how it is when the two of us are together."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I'm going with crazy." Crisis averted. For now.

"C'mon, we've got a game to attend."

Miguel fist pumps the air and whisper-yells "Go Team." I punch him on the shoulder and he laughs as we head to our separate rooms to change.

***

We walk to the football complex from our dingy apartment across the street. Why we can't get better living arrangements beats me. After we purchase our tickets and head inside, Miguel, the fatty that he is, decides he has to have an order of nachos, a pickle, two Slim Jims, a hot dog, and a large soda. I stare at him and shake my head.

"What?" he says, "You can't go to a football game without snacks."

"You can't feel hunger and have no taste buds. Why do you need all that food?"

"I have a vivid imagination," he responds while licking the nacho cheese drizzling down his wrist.

"I can't take you anywhere."

He pauses mid wrist and looks up at me and shrugs, continuing to lick the remainder of the cheese from his arm.

We pause at the bottom of the bleachers and scan the crowd. I close my eyes and imagine before. Even with the Astroturf in the stadium I'm currently standing in, I can smell the fresh cut grass with a hint of mud from the field of my high school. I was the star quarterback and I loved Friday nights under the lights. I miss the rush from scoring a touchdown, the camaraderie of being part of a team, a brotherhood. The first time I remembered my time spent playing football was Homecoming senior year. Laney left at half-time to get ready for the dance and I was off my game the whole night thinking of how gorgeous she would look all dressed up. The coach almost benched me in the last quarter. It was all worth it, though, and definitely warranted when I picked her up. I had never seen anything more amazing than her in that off-white dress. It had me thinking of other white dresses and I was only seventeen.