Chapter II

The Girl in the Red Raincoat

[Part I]

[R E A L I T Y]

  “That’s a funny name,” she giggled. The breeze picked up, making her bright-red raincoat swish around. “C’mon, what’s your real name?” Oddball studied his blurred face in the camera screen one more time, then, drawing in a silent breath, turned to face the newcomer. 

   “Oddball,” he said again firmly. She cocked her head to one side as she regarded him through her sunglasses. Something tugged the corners of her mouth down for a moment as she paused. She drew every ounce of him into those black lenses and turned the name over in her head. 

   “Oddball…” she said, as if testing the word’s weight on her tongue. “Huh.” She was quiet for a minute, this made Oddball squirm. Could she see right through the mask? Tension began to grow in his lungs, so the effort to breathe normally became forceful. Suddenly, the girl’s whole face was alight again, and she let loose another small giggle. “You’re something else, you know that?” The words dug into him; he flinched and flicked his gaze away. She must have noticed, because she quickly added: “Not that that’s a bad thing. I totally dig the whole ‘edgy and mysterious’ vibe you’ve got going there.” 

  Oddball tugged uncomfortably at the edges of his garments, growing self-conscious of the overwhelming presence of dark colors. You’re one to talk, he thought, wearing sunglasses on a day like this. 

  As if she’d heard his thoughts, the girl pulled off her glasses, revealing a pair of hazel eyes, filled with the gleam of fascination and naive glee. “I’m Ashley. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ‘Oddball’.” 

   Ashley. The name landed in his head and printed itself to the inside of his skull. He wasn’t sure why, really. It wouldn’t matter: they’d end this conversation soon and he’d never see her again. He shifted his attention back to the sea and lifted his camera, reoccupying himself with the challenge of capturing the tidal spray. 

   “Nice to meet you too,” he mumbled. He did his best to look as focused as possible, hoping to end this tiring interaction soon. He pressed the camera so close to his face that the image on the screen filled his vision, blurry and out of focus.

   “That’s a nice camera,” she said, not taking the hint. It wasn’t. He’d bought it cheap off some auction website, but he didn’t say that. 

   “Yeah.” Just keep ignoring her, she’ll get tired and leave. Click—another miss. He sighed in annoyance. Trying to time this was hard enough without someone hovering over him. 

   “Weather’s not so bad today…” Her words were becoming strained and forced; her voice sounded closer, despite sounding so distant. She was obviously avoiding some question or comment, and she was terrible at hiding it. It hung in the air while she danced around it with poorly conjured small-talk. 

   Just get to the point already. 

   “Hey…” her voice was uncomfortably close now, “why do you wear that thing?” His stomach flipped. 

   The forbidden question compelled Oddball’s face to snap back in her direction. Bad move. Ashley had leaned in even closer, lazily propping her head up against the railing with an arm. She was beaming. His heart seized and he half-leapt, half-tumbled backwards. The camera flew from his grasp and floated tauntingly in the air while he madly began to grab at it. His hands wrapped around it, but not before his heel scraped concrete and came to a sudden stop. He overbalanced, and the world tilted back. With no free hand to catch the guard railing, he wound up sitting on the sidewalk, wincing and clutching his prized possession protectively against himself. Ashley’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. She turned away, doubled over and tried desperately to muffle her laughter. As his heart pounded at his ribcage and he collected his bearings, Oddball let off an irritated sigh. Unbelievable.

   “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between fits of stifled amusement, “I didn’t mean to—” The floodgates of hilarity broke and her hand fell away from her mouth to let the stream of laughter flow. The confident, mature shell gave way to the easily entertained childish spirit therein. She was squatting down now, one hand weakly grasping the railing while she kept laughing and filled the air with the vocal warmth that might have rivaled the summer sun. It was unbearable. “I’m so sorry…” she wheezed, “it’s just, like— that was something right out of a cartoon, y’know?” Oddball just sat there, bristling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, gimme a sec—” she said, quieting down and starting to recompose herself. “I didn’t mean to scare you so badly, I’m sorry.” She sighed, capping off the laughter, then shifted so that she was sitting on her knees across from him. 

   It wasn’t that funny, he thought. The delight of her complexion thinned as it must have finally begun to sink in that he wasn’t laughing with her. 

   “Aw, c’mon,” she prodded, embarrassment undermining her confident smile, “you gotta admit it was a little funny.” 

  “It really wasn’t,” Oddball said. Embarrassment grew and Ashley’s smile grew distorted with sudden nerves. She quickly looked away from him and began to fidget with the white drawstrings of her coat. 

   “Well now you’ve just gone and made it weird, dude…” she muttered remotely. 

   You’re the one who laughed at it. It was a minute before she looked back to him, stuffing embarrassment back down to wherever it’d risen from. 

   “Anyways,” she said, “why do you wear that thing? There a convention somewhere or something?” It felt like more of an accusation than a question. 

   “What thing?” 

   Ashley smirked. “What ‘thing’ do you think?” The mask, obviously. Oddball looked away, writhing under her scrutiny. The question started to take root. Why did he wear the mask, exactly? Because it made him feel safe? The answer was taking shape in his mouth, but the claws of fear dug into him and made him swallow it. It vanished, tucked away out of reach once more. 

   “I don’t know.” This answer, of course, didn’t satisfy her. 

   “What do you mean you don’t know? I mean, obviously you take the time to put it on every time you come out here.” Every time you come out here. The words set the world spinning and pushed terror’s talons deeper into him until they pierced his heart and made it skip beats. Had she seen him before? He never saw her. But, then again, he was never really paying attention…

   “I don’t know. I just…like it…I guess.” It was a lame answer, conjured rapidly from the panicked depths of disorientation. Ashley frowned and gave a small shrug that rustled her coat. 

   “Fair enough,” she resigned, “I’ve seen weirder people downtown.” Weirder people. She thought he was weird. A fair assessment, but a biting one all the same. Ashley leaned up against the railing, letting her legs slide out from under her a little so that she was resting crooked against the barrier. “So,” she continued, “where you from, ‘Oddball’?” Oddball shifted uncomfortably, tiring of the interrogation. He needed an escape route. 

   “The dorms,” he flatly replied. His mind was more occupied with coming up with excuses to leave. 

   Something whistled; an answer from the heavens as Ashley pulled a phone from her pocket and almost immediately rolled her eyes. “Shit,” she breathed, “I have to go.” She waved her phone screen at him, showing him a flash of a text message. “Parents.” She began furiously tapping at the screen.

   “I should probably go too,” Oddball declared. Finally. He rose to his feet and she followed suit, but just as he turned and started walking away, a hand caught his sleeve. 

   “Wait!” 

   Oddball bit back an irritated what now? 

   “I’d still like to talk to you, y’know. You’re interesting.” He threw a short glance over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide and pleading, betraying the cool, collected complexion that bore a trace of bittersweetness about it. 

   “Maybe.” He started to pull away, but the hand tightened. 

   “Oh, c’mon, gimme a chance here! Look— I know I can be a bit…I dunno, intense? Maybe a bit too much for you? You certainly don’t seem like the talkative type, standing out here all alone and such…” She paused for a moment to marinate a thought. “How about this: I’ll be here tomorrow. Nine o’ clock. Come if you want to talk more. If you don’t, then I’ll just assume that you aren’t interested in being friends or anything and leave you alone. I won’t be offended.” She let go of his sleeve. “Just…think about it. Nice meeting you, Oddball.” 

   And she was gone, carried away like a cherry blossom on a summer breeze. He turned and looked back to see her quickly walking away, already across the street. She smiled over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner. 

   The sun began to peer through the clouds above, letting gold radiance leak over the shore. Glad that’s over, he thought, as his hand found a life of his own and grasped his sleeve. Glad that’s over… The golden light faded as quickly as it came. Steel-gray clouds swaddled the sky once more and choked out any traces of warmth. His eyes bore into the edge of the brick building on the corner of the street. She was gone. He was safe again. Glad that’s over…

   He inhaled, turned back towards the empty road that led back to the dorms, and started walking. 

   Somehow, it felt far quieter than it had before...