THE SLOWEST BURN ~ wally clark x oc

~ places ~

WALLY

I watch Kaitlyn, without breaking her stride, firmly push the metal bar on the gym's side door, and then she's gone. For now.

Our group has a rule that a new arrival has the right to share their own story, in their own time. Before that, we try not to gossip too much about how exactly they got here, even if we already have a basic idea from hearing people talk in the hallways or the teachers' lounge.

"Well, THAT happened," Rhonda's sarcasm breaks the silence. "Anyone want to take bets on if she'll end up like Dawn? Just zoned out all the time?"

"Rhonda, we need to give her time," Mr. Martin admonished. "Everyone, let's just call it for today. We'll meet again Monday, hopefully with our new member. Maybe she'll be ready to share her story."

Everyone starts to disperse, and I notice Mr. M pull Charley aside. "Keep an eye on her, Charley. She seems to be taking the transition harder than most."

As if Charley needs reminding. He's a genuinely decent guy who naturally fell into his "tour guide" role soon after he got here. And his kindness doesn't just extend to new arrivals. He and I have gotten closer in recent years. He's opened up about stuff like getting bullied at school, and I'm getting better... slowly... at talking about my feelings and all that shit. I mean, therapy and mental health weren't really a thing in the 80's. If you were a guy, you were told to just suck it up and push down any feeling that gets in the way of being the tough guy you're expected to be.

"Nowadays we call that 'toxic masculinity'", Charley likes remind me. My mom and dad just called it parenting.

But now Charley's like family. It's not lost on me that my old high school friends are the same kind of douchebags who would have bullied him and called him gay slurs. I could make excuses and say it was a different time, but honestly I've had to own up to shit I've been prejudiced about too. But at least I never bullied anyone.

I feel someone elbow me in the ribs. "So I guess we're stuck with a new head case, hmm?" Rhonda mutters to me out of earshot of Mr. M. She smirks and sucks on her lollipop.

If Charley's the brother I never had, then Rhonda's like a sister. When I showed up, she'd already been here a couple decades, which is plenty of time to develop some serious bitterness, if that's the path you choose to take. It took years before she cooled it on the constant sarcasm and eye rolling whenever I said anything.

I think my natural optimism really annoyed her at first, because she just didn't understand that outlook here. I've always been positive though, and it's saved me from the long phases of deep depression that some of the others fall into sometimes. And then one night, when no one else was around, she blurted out that she was glad I was here. She then told me about her older brother, and said I reminded her of him.

Rhonda still gives me shit a lot of the time, but I'll take it, because I'm the only one who can make her laugh. Usually by making a goofy joke at my own expense.

"Rhonda, just give her a break, okay?"

But I'm too rattled to joke around now. Rhonda raises her eyebrows, because I'm definitely acting off. She saunters off in the direction of the library.

Charley continues to chat with Mr. M, so I exchange a "We'll talk later" glance with him. I leave him behind and go to my spot.

///

I think we each have our "places" in and outside of the school building. One of mine is out by the football field, on the top bleacher that faces west and the 50 yard line. I've seen some pretty epic sunsets over this football field, but it's too early for that right now. It's spring, and the days are getting longer, so in the sunshine my name gleams above the scoreboard.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Walter Clark Memorial Stadium..." I imitate a sports announcer voice. "Annnnd the crowd goes wild as young up and comer Wally Clark takes the field..."

But I didn't come here to look at my name in big blue letters and relive the glory days. I came here to think about what the hell just took place.

Kaitlyn Sands is here. How did this happen? I knew she was close to the end, but I never even entertained the idea that she'd die here. In fact, I already made my peace with never seeing her again. I've always kept in the back of my head something Mr. Martin told me when I first got here:

"We should severely limit feeling a connection, romantic or otherwise, to anyone living. They'll always leave, and you'll stay here. You have to accept that this part of your life is over, and move on."

I left that conversation alarmed by the possibility that I'd never have any of that again. See, we don't age here. You'd think after decades we'd grow older and mellow out from super emotional teenagers into lame adults, but our bodies are frozen at this age. So I still have the same teenage hormones rushing through my body as I did years ago, when I was newly dead and Mr. Martin had that conversation with me. I've been fully seventeen for, like, forty years.

All that to say, I miss girls.
So.
Fucking.
Bad.

I wasn't a player back then or anything, but I didn't have trouble getting girls to go out with me. And now look at me... On the longest dry spell any high school guy has ever had to suffer through. But it's not just sex. I know it's cheesy as hell, but I miss those fucking butterflies.

And for the first time in forty years I've been completely smitten with someone: A fucking dream girl I tried so hard not to have a huge goddamn crush on. Until I just... gave in.

///