CHAPTER 10

So, there’s this one song about short people (part 2)

“Sometimes I miss playing hockey.”

“Oh yeah? Sudden bout of nostalgia?”

Mindie flicked a hand outward, gesturing to the lake as she continued to lament. “I’m just imagining the lake frozen over; it reminds me of the ice rink back in high school. Good times.”

The setting sun wasn’t visible from the east-facing lakeshore of campus, but it was nonetheless a picturesque view. The afternoon sky darkening towards evening in soft hues of orange and gray provided a nice backdrop to gaze up at for souls seeking a moment of relaxation. Pike and Mindie sat on the grass, relishing in the light breeze wafting from the lake. One had his notebook out; the other took a sip from her raspberry iced tea.

“Gotta say, some of these HRU jocks can learn a thing or two from you.” Pike continued sketching the scenery he saw in front of him. “One of the basketball players shoved me into a locker earlier.”

Mindie glugged down her drink, then scowled. “Jerk move. Why?”

“Probably because he could.” He expounded immediately after, “Oh, he went after me again after I cursed at him—making a big stink about me being short and stuff.”

“Not very like you to pick a fight, partner.”

“I wasn’t exactly looking for one. But yeah, it probably would’ve helped if I kept the cursing to myself…”

“Ha! It’s whatever at this point, right?” She let herself flop over backwards, laying down on her back as she stuck her iced tea-occupied hand in the air. “He’s got something against short people, huh. Put me up against him! I’ll show him who the shortie is!”

Pike laughed. “But you’re larger than life. I don’t think anyone could see you as just some shortie.”

“You’re pretty bold yourself though!”

“Yeah? How d’you figure that?”

Mindie rolled onto her side and propped herself up by the elbow. She showed all her teeth in an impish grin, poking at him. “What was it that you told me at the beginning of the year?” Then her voice changed, lowering its pitch to adopt a mocking tone of imitation. “Oh, I’m not planning to take any art classes; my dad would accuse me of wasting my education.”

Despite the light breeze causing the air to be crisp and cool, Pike felt a prickly heat scurry through his thick head of dark hair. He scratched at it to calm it down. “Most people would just call me stupid instead of bold… Besides, I’m still appeasing him. I’m planning to major in something that won’t get me disowned.”

His exasperated bestie briefly pulled herself upright in her seat, then slumped heavily against his shoulder. “Feeling the pressure of expectations, huh… Careful, partner. You might end up throwing your hands in the air and sporting my old skates.”

“We’re not in high school anymore, you know.”

Pike let out a sigh, reflexively leaning his head onto hers and looking at his half-finished sketch. Much like each of his others, it couldn’t exactly be considered a masterpiece.

“It’s not like I don’t get where he’s coming from. Sometimes I wonder if I can really make it as a creative—writer, artist… There are plenty of people more talented than I’ll ever be who can’t make a living doing the same thing…”

A silence passed between them as he trailed off. For several moments, there was only the sound of waves rolling against the lakeshore, and the vague chatter of students somewhere in the distance further inland.

Mindie smiled to herself. “But…?”

Pike couldn’t help cracking his own grin. “…But I still want to try. There’s no harm in just taking art classes, after all. And I love writing. There are stories out there that want to be told, and I want to be the one to tell them.”

He closed his notebook and set it on his lap. “Who knows? Maybe there’s a good story centered on you.”

“Definitely.”

Satisfied that she weened the whole response out of him, Mindie closed her eyes and took this moment to nestle herself under his chin. Her partner always described himself as gloomy, and sure, the way he behaved certainly backed that claim. But over the years they had known each other, despite all the stress and setbacks his life dragged him through, he had never turned into a Shade. There was a certain fortitude in him that she couldn’t help being aware of.

“You know,” she said, “you’re pretty cool whenever you say things like that.”

“Oh? Cooler than a Star like you?”

“Please. Stars are way cooler.”

Pike just shrugged. “I’m okay with that. We side characters have the privilege of watching how the main character’s story pans out.”

“Just how are you a side character in my story? I don’t get how your brain works…”

=-=-=

The sky was now dark with the colors of night. Some clusters of stars in the sky were obscured by the shadows of drifting clouds, which in turn were partially illuminated by the lights of Halo Ridge below.

And down the main sidewalk of campus skulked the scrawny, vertically challenged form of Sam Foster. Her tangle of long, dark hair could easily have been mistaken for the top brush of a moving bush or small tree. But another glance would have drawn its attention to the small irises of her deep-set eyes behind a pair of thick, round eyeglasses. Overall, she looked like a disheveled owl at death’s door. It was her natural appearance.

She was tired. Tired of not being seen. Tired of being scorned when she was seen. In her mental exhaustion, she was plagued by thoughts of self-reproach. Beneath her bush of dark hair, she found some small amount of solace in clutching a book to her chest and listening to her music—an old song that put these thoughts into words so well.

Short people got—no reason… Short people got—no reason…

Her gaze was kept to the ground as she trudged along, so she didn’t see two tall basketball players striding her way. And because she was below their line of sight, they didn’t see her either.

“I can’t believe they left without us,” the first complained. “Like, we were right there when the bus took off.”

The second one shrugged without much care. “On the other hand, I’ll take a house party over an away game any day.”

“Ha! Can’t argue with tha—Mmph!” His knee collided with Sam, knocking her over. “The hell?”

Reflexively, Sam curled into a ball in her seat on the ground, holding her book over her face and shielding her gaze from what was a blatant glowering expression from the athlete. The basketball player towered over her menacingly, and for a moment he looked ready to pick her up and toss her to the side.

He decided against it, kicking her just the slightest bit as he brushed past. “Tch. The midgets are out in droves today.”

His buddy laughed as they moved along. “Isn’t it the stupidest thing to watch someone shorter than you try to act like they’re not—like that kid that talked smack to you earlier? Like, stop trying; you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“They should make a law. If you aren’t over six feet when you’re in university, you get deported to some island for dwarves.”

“Or just shot. Not like they have any reason to live at that point. Better luck in the next life.”

Sam could hear their jeering laughter through her headphones as the song continued to play. She trembled on the ground, hugging onto her book like a teddy bear for comfort. It was comfort the book couldn’t give. Their snide remarks echoed in her head, quaking her tenuous peace of mind and cracking open the echoes of other scorn she had received before. Some were real. Some were made up. All of them stirred something inside her that was irresistibly unpleasant.

Soon, her mind was a fog of negative emotion, and that emotion began to take shape.

Chaotic energy began to seep out from her and into the world. It began to swirl around her—a deranged choir of remorse and self-loathing thoughts in energetic form. As the shadow of chaos engulfed her, it sought more energy to feed the sensation of misery. Tendrils like rolling fog extended out from her aura, reaching for her perpetrators.

Short people got—no reason…

Some basic instinct prompted one basketball player to stop, feeling a change in the air behind him. He started to turn around and face the little girl he had just kicked aside. That’s when his buddy abruptly collapsed to the ground.

Short people got—no reason…

Alarmed, he crouched to the ground and tried to shake him awake. “Dude! Are you okay?! What hap—…pened…?”

He passed out too. Their energy had been sapped away from them, absorbed by a mass of tendrils flailing from the shady aura that had consumed Sam Foster.

And beneath the shroud of her hair, her eyes glowed red.

“Short people got—no reason to live…”