All the Birds in the Sky - Charlie Jane Anders Page 0,48
whispered in his ear, and moments later the awful crunging dubthrash music was replaced by soothing dubstep. People swayed happily. The wailing and lamentation became the hum of conversation. The bathroom had no line. People started hanging out on the balcony for reasons other than punching each other or throwing up in the bushes.
Everybody agreed that Patricia had salvaged the party at the UFO house somehow, but nobody could have said how. She’d just kind of shown up, and the vibe had improved. Carrie found herself making Patricia a thank-you cocktail, holding it out in both hands, like an offering.
* * *
PATRICIA HADN’T NEEDED much magic to rescue this awful party from the brink—fixing an upset stomach was second nature to her, after some of the dorm-room cooking at Eltisley Maze, and the partygoers did most of the heavy lifting themselves once she redirected their energies a bit. But just like with the poet in North Beach and the junkie in the Tenderloin, the most important thing was not to let anybody see her doing magic—she’d been indoctrinated never to share her big powerful Seekrit with anyone, but she needed no reminder in any case. She still remembered her friend in middle school whom she’d done magic in front of, how he’d lost his shit and run away, and stopped talking to her right when she needed him. When she told herself that story nowadays or shared it with others, she boiled it down to: “I showed my magic to a civilian one time, and it got ugly.”
Other than that, she hadn’t thought about that kid in years. He’d been reduced to a single cautionary anecdote in her head. But she found herself thinking about him now, maybe because she was surrounded by geeks, or because pulling this shindig back from the Party Abyss with her bare hands was reminding her of how weird social interactions could be, here in the “real” world. Especially after so many years in the bubble of Eltisley Maze. And somehow, the image popped into her head of the boy, naked in a closet with bruises all over and blood caked around his nostrils. The last time she’d seen him. She found herself hoping he’d turned out okay after all, and then as she finished her loop around the party, he was standing right in front of her. Almost, but not quite, like magic.
Patricia recognized Laurence right off the bat. The sandy hair was the same, cut into a messy part instead of a fringe. He was a lot taller and a tad stockier. The eyes were the same hazel-gray and his chin still jutted, and he still looked kind of perplexed and a little pissed off about everything. But that could be because he was one of the people she hadn’t yet healed. She did that now. He was wearing a collarless black button-up shirt with a small tiger embroidered on it, and black canvas pants.
“You feeling okay?” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, straightening up. He half-smiled, and rolled his neck like an owl. “Yeah. Thanks. Starting to feel better. There was something weird about those hors d’oeuvres.”
“Yeah.”
He did not recognize her. Which made sense, it had been ten years, and a lot had probably happened. Patricia should just keep moving through the party. Just move along, don’t try to have some kind of bullshit uncomfortable reunion. But she couldn’t help herself.
“Laurence?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. And then his eyes grew. “Patricia?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, cool. It’s good to, uh, see you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been good. How are you doing?”
“I’m good too.” Long pause. Laurence shuffled and kneaded a square napkin. “So. You violate any laws of physics lately?”
“Ha ha. No, not really.” Patricia needed to get out of this conversation before it crushed the life out of her. “Anyway. Good running into you again.”
“Yeah.” Laurence looked around. “I should introduce you to my girlfriend, Serafina. She was here a second ago. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll just, uh, just find her.”
Laurence turned and plowed into the throng, looking for his girlfriend. Patricia wanted to get out of there, but she felt like she’d promised Laurence she wouldn’t leave this spot. She was bound to this place, as sure as if she’d been imprisoned inside a rock. Minutes passed and Laurence did not come back, and Patricia got more antsy
Why had she thought it would be a good idea to say hi to Laurence? It just brought up a lot of weird, painful memories of puberty and nearly