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You Make Me Smile (Cliffton book 1, chapter 7)
If you're reading Cliffton for the first time, here are the previous chapters so you can catch up:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
The door slams. Fuck. Kicked out of our own house.
"Fucking CallaBot." I blink, rub my eyes. Too fucking bright out here.
Wes is babbling. Of fucking course. He stops, watching me. Waiting.
"Um... what?" I manage.
"Wonder where we can find that chip." Wes chirps. So fucking cheerful it hurts my brain.
"What chip?" Like I fucking care.
"Weren't you even listening when she explained everything?"
"Not awake." Understatement of the fucking decade.
"CallaBot wants us to find an ID-10T chip for Kalen's robots." He's grinning. Too many fucking words.
"SynthBrew first." Can't fucking function without it.
"But the chip!" Wes cries. "CallaBot said it's important! It must be, for her to kick us out like this."
"Want SynthBrew." This is not fucking optional.
Wes says nothing. Just grins.
"Need SynthBrew."
"Awww, you must be hating life right now." Wes pats my arm. "She didn't even let you brush your hair."
"My hair!" I run my fingers through it. Fucking disaster.
"'Sokay, you're still pretty." His huge goofy smile's back. "C'mon, let's find you some SynthBrew."
"Not pretty," I grumble.
Kinda hard not to smile back. Just a tiny bit.
Finally got some fucking SynthBrew in me and I'm a little more awake. Not sure if that's good or bad because now all I can think about's how grungy I am. My hair's fucking tragic. At least it's pulled back now - hair ties are fucking essential. I can still tell it's all bumpy and messy, though. It's gonna bug me all day.
We're sitting outside a Splinternet cafe. Pretty fucking busy here. Loud enough that I don't even notice at first when Wes stops yammering. I stifle a yawn, wonder why he's just fucking staring at me. Not that it's all that unusual for him to do that anyway.
"So, what d'you think, dude?" Wes finally says. "Should I go inside and check out some message boards? See if anyone's heard of this chip CallaBot wants us to find?"
"Whatever." Just want to sit here until I can wake up some more. Don't care about much else.
"I'll bring you some more SynthBrew!" Wes bounds inside. Where the fuck does he get all that energy?
Not sure how long he's gone. Seems like only a minute or two.
"Devin, wake up!" Wes's voice makes me jump, almost fall over.
My eyes fly open. Didn't even realize they were closed. Might have drifted off a little. Oops.
Wes is looking at me with this tiny smile. Not sure why, but it makes my face feel kinda hot. He hands me a paper cup and I mumble my thanks as I take a huge fucking gulp. It burns my throat on the way down, but at least the SynthBrew here doesn't suck. I rub my face. Wait for the heat to subside.
"Dude, I looked all over the Splinternet." Wes is too busy talking to notice anything. Not that there's anything to notice. "I talked to all my contacts, too. No one's heard of an ID-10T chip. Maybe CallaBot got the name wrong or something?"
I nod, grunt to show I'm paying attention.
"D'you think we should check out a few stores anyway, just to be - " Wes stops mid-sentence. Something's very fucking wrong, because Wes never just stops talking like that. "Is that - are you - " Wes stammers, fumbles for words. "Are you wearing a Closed Circuit T-shirt?"
Oh, fuck. Who even knows what I'm wearing? Whatever CallaBot threw at me before she kicked me out.
"What?" I demand. "Pop music's fucking catchy. And Joey was a badass in those leather pants."
Wait, what? My mouth must be more awake than my brain. Pretty sure that's the last fucking thing I wanted to say. "I mean, uh..." Now it's my turn to trip over my words. "It's my sister's fucking shirt, okay?"
"Why d'you have your sister's shirt? Wait, you have a sister? If it's her shirt, how come you know who Joey is? Who is Joey? What do leather pants have to do with anything? Do you have leather pants?" Wes is staring at me, this odd look on his face.
Oh, fuck no. Need a distraction, right the fuck now. I'm a private fucking person. Don't want to talk about my past, or my family either. Don't want to talk about any of this at all.
"Wow, this is some amazing SynthBrew," I announce too loudly as I jump up from my seat. "I'm wide awake now. Let's hit those fucking stores before they're too crowded!"
I grab Wes's arm and drag him out of there before he can say anything else.
"Fuck this," I grumble as we walk out of our third electronics store empty-handed.
"D'you think CallaBot got the name wrong?" Wes asks. "Nobody has an ID-10T chip."
Know what I really think? Pretty sure CallaBot's having a little fun at our expense. We've been to Robotix Xpress, Xceptional Electronix, and now Xtraordinary Digital Supplies. No ID-10T chip. Two fucking hours of walking and shopping. It's enough to wake even me up.
Now that my brain's processing information, it all seems mighty fucking strange. Kalen's never mentioned this chip before. Now it's so important we have to leave the house at the crack of dawn to find it? Besides, if the chip's this fucking crucial, how come no one on the Splinternet's even heard of it?
"What's wrong, pretty princess?" Wes eyes me with concern. I must look as grumpy as I feel.
"Just tired, okay? I'm fine." I offer him the best smile I can manage. "And don't call me pretty."
"Dude! I know what'll cheer you up!" Wes flaps his hands toward a nearby building. "Can we go there? Can we?"
"McSplodey's?" Can't fucking repress the full-body shudder that runs through me. "Oh, fuck no. That shit'll kill you. Instantaneous food isn't even really food."
"Not instantaneous food, dude... Next door to it!" Wes points again, clutches my arm like we're on some kind of fucking monster vid date night. Not sure why, but I kinda shudder again. Still thinking about my last experience with instantaneous food, I guess.
"XtremeWarrior" I squint at the sign. "The Ultimate Virtual Reality Combat Xperience."
"Devin, can we do it?" Wes is fucking vibrating. "Can we? Please? Pretty please?"
"Thought you didn't even like live-action fighting games, Wes."
"Zack and I played one a few days ago when he was staying with us. I kept tripping over my own feet, but it was so much fun! And you - you're so great at fighting, Devin. I know you'd love it!"
My stomach does this sick little flip. Don't really want to think about the time Zack spent in our house, or the way I made Wes mad. Still haven't really apologized for calling his parents spies. He seems fine now, but I can't help remembering how fucking hurt he looked. How he didn't even want to be around me. Wes always fucking wants to be around me.
I open my mouth to say no. It's one thing to kick Wes's ass at SimFighting. Flailing like a discombobulated fucking squealer monkey in public's another. Not that I'm embarrassed. I've been wearing a Closed Fucking Circuit shirt all morning anyway. This is just too much like exercise. Or sports. I'm not really into fucking sports.
Only Wes is smiling so big I swear I can see my reflection in it. How the fuck do I tell him no?
"Fine, whatever," I mutter.
Wes doesn't stop babbling for one second on the walk to XtremeWarrior. His enormous grin never falters, either. We stand in line, pay, pick up our "combat" gear and his whole face is lit up the entire fucking time. By the time we put on our helmets and enter the "combat" arena, I'm smiling too. Just a tiny bit.
Can't fucking help it. Wes just has that effect on people.
Really have to hand it to Wes. This XtremeWarrior game's kinda fun - best part of my day so far.
Turns out my virtual body's way more coordinated than my real one. Wes is another fucking story. He's every bit as goofy and gawky in here as always. If we weren't playing co-op, he'd be dying every 5 nanoseconds just like in SimFighting. Being on the same team's fun, though. I keep having to save his ass, not that I fucking mind.
It hasn't taken the other players long to notice how terrible he is, target him at every opportunity. Wes doesn't care. His eyes are shining with excitement. He's all but fucking glowing. It's kinda... fucking adorable. Wonder if smiling too much in VR will make my actual face sore.
Fake nanoblaster fire comes streaking toward Wes's head. I push him out of the way.
"Thanks, dude." Wes staggers, grins at me, totally unselfconscious.
A giant monster comes out of nowhere, goes for Wes's virtual head. I grab his arm, yank him out of its reach. Wes stumbles, falling into me and almost knocking me down. I swear he's fucking giggling as he clutches at me, trying to regain his balance.
It's a mystery to me, the way the tiniest things make him happy. How even his own humiliation's a source of complete and utter joy. How does he even fucking do that?
"Devin, look out!" Wes yells, breaking into my thoughts. Next thing I know, his whole body's hurtling toward me. Shoving me out of the path of a laser grenade I was too distracted to see. He slams me into the virtual wall of the pretend cave we're in. Knocks all the fake wind right out of me.
I don't move for a minute, just stand there with Wes's face all but touching mine. He's all smashed up against me like we're fucking lovers but I barely notice. Too busy trying to catch my breath. My heart's pounding a mile a minute, the way he just startled me. Is it hot in here? Think the temperature control's fucking wonky.
Man, this VR shit's fucking insane. Have to remind myself my real lungs have plenty of air.
"You okay, dude?" Wes is staring at me. He still hasn't moved. Think he's all that's holding me up.
"Yeah." I feel funny. Off-balance. Inhaling and exhaling are fucking involuntary, right? Doesn't feel that way right now. Have to focus to make them happen. Breathe deep. Form sentences. I can do this. "Just... wasn't expecting that."
Wes is giving me a weird look. Can't figure out why. He's awfully fucking quiet for Wes, too.
Still can't seem to move. Wes's belt buckle's digging into my hip and it fucking hurts. Not sure why I'm rooted in place like this. A fake laser sizzles the air next to my ear. I push Wes down just moments before another slices through the space where his head would've been. Then I dive for cover. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's fucking escaping.
We're both laughing when we stumble outside. Best 30 queems I've spent in a long fucking time. I sit down on the edge of the sidewalk, take a deep breath. Want to enjoy this day as long as I can. My hair's still awful and I'm still wearing that humiliating fucking shirt, but I'm trying to think about it. Everything else? Kinda fucking perfect.
Air's fresh, kinda cool - there's a breeze for a change. Summer's supposed to be over after Reaping, but it never fucking is. Don't even really have fall on this side of the fence. Stupid desert climate - summer's fucking interminable, and then all of a sudden it's almost Wintertide. Don't like summer, and I don't really like Wintertide much, either.
Today's nice, though. Spending it alone with Wes is, too. Don't really like all these fucking people in my house. Makes it kinda hard to fucking think. Hard to breathe. Can't just watch a vid with Wes whenever I want, and I can't even let him hug me without everyone watching. Fucking eyes always on me, making my skin crawl and -
Speaking of Wes. Why isn't he yapping about that combat game and how great it was? Hasn't sat down next to me, either. That can't be right, because he always wants to be next to me. Always wants to touch me, even when we're in fucking public.
"Hey, Wes?"
"Yeah, dude." His voice comes from behind me, quiet and fucking subdued.
I turn around to see what he's doing, and he's just... standing there. Standing on the sidewalk and not doing anything. Something's wrong, all right. He's always in motion. Always smiling. Now he's still, not smiling - not even fucking looking at me. He's always fucking looking at me.
"Thanks for talking me into playing that game," I say. "It was fucking epic."
"No problem, dude."
I'm not convinced. Pretty sure there's a fucking problem, just not sure what it is. Don't get how I'm a fucking supergenius and I can't even figure out my own best friend. Try to think back, remember when I last saw Wes smile.
Remember Wes shoved up against me, pinning me to the wall. The way he looked at me then.
Kinda feel like I'm back in that room now. Non-existent walls closing in on me, virtual air knocked out of my lungs. Except there's a cool breeze ruffling my atrocious hair, and I force myself to breathe it in. Force myself to fucking think.
I know how Wes fucking feels about me. Always have. He never pressures me, knows I don't feel the same and doesn't get mad. But I pushed him. He was up against me and I fucking pushed him and what if he thinks I thought he was gonna -
Don't know what he thinks. Just know he's hurting and I need to fucking fix it.
I stretch, stand up. Turn to face him. "You didn't suck at it too much, either. Not like you do at SimFighting. You saved my ass that one time. Too bad you pretty much crushed my fucking ribcage in the process." Fucking brilliant.
Wes looks up. Meets my eyes with his so huge and wistful it makes my chest fucking ache.
I'm such a fucking asshole. Wes cheers me up all the time, doesn't even have to try because just being with him makes me happy. Too bad I can't do the same for him, and I can't stand to see him like this either. He's supposed to be happy. Fucking deserves to be.
What would Wes fucking do?
Strange thing is, I kinda want to hug him. Know he'd hug me if I was feeling sad. Does fucking hug me, whether I'm happy or sad or tired. Touches me all the time, grabs me and gropes me and -
I'm not a fucking hugger. And in public? Oh, fuck no.
But the alternative's staring me right in the face. His face all wrong with its sad fucking eyes and no goofy grin. So I put my arm around him, do what I have to do. Just a tiny squeeze. He flinches, squeaks a little. Tries to squirm away.
Really? Except I fucking get that.
"You know what?" I feel so fucking awkward, like I'm talking to myself. "This stupid shirt? I lied. It's mine. Don't even have a fucking sister, Wes. Truth is, I used to love Closed Circuit, okay? Even went to a concert once. Think I was the only dude there."
Wes makes this tiny noise and flings his arms around me.
I feel fucking ridiculous. We're in public. It's broad daylight. I'm so not a fucking hugger.
"Devin, this is why I - " His words are muffled by my embarrassing shirt. "This is why you're my best friend."
"You're my best friend, too." I want to pull away. Not really comfortable with all this touching where everyone can fucking see. Just want Wes to be okay, though. I pat him on the back a few times instead. That's fucking manly, right? "But can you let go now? Think my intestines are about to come out my ears."
"Sorry, dude." Wes steps back, grinning. About fucking time. "Hey, what about that chip?"
"Fuck it, man." I smooth my fucking hideous clothes, try to straighten my lost-cause hair. Put my hands in my pockets. "That thing doesn't even fucking exist. Let's just buy everything and go home."
(Next chapter is here)