Circle Mall
The bus kicked and sputtered up the hill past Foundry as they headed toward Circle Mall, hands held.
“So you wrestled?” Jerk gave Kid’s hand a squeeze.
“Started in middle school.” The bus topped the hill, passing a discount store that had seen better days. “Gave me an excuse to wear a unitard. Kept things ‘under control.’”
“Wearing one now?”
Kid smiled. “Tried that, but they’re not very practical for day-to-day life.” They tugged at their collar, revealing a strap from what they were wearing. “Sports bra, racerback. Elastic sewn in a couple spots.”
The bus stopped and sputtered. Bowling alley. A few people moved to get off. Kid rested their head against Jerk when the bus heaved onward again.
There were three places in the mall that served pizza, but Jerk refused to eat at two of them, favoring the hole-in-the-wall spot tucked away in the back of the mall’s half-abandoned food court. They each got a slice of pizza and a coke—big New York-style slices that they blotted with napkins to soak up the grease before anointing them with red pepper and a dusting of Parmesan.
“What did you do, science competitions? Spelling bees? I know!” Kid’s voice cracked. “School literary magazine!” Their crust crunched as they bit into it.
“I went to Academy. After school, it was all sports or marching around.” Jerk shrugged. “I’d go to The News after school and do my homework.”
“Academy?” Kid gave a mock salute. “What did you do to Tiny and Norma?”
“Do? I asked to go there.” Jerk turned his head, discreetly trying to work a piece of red pepper out from between two molars with his thumbnail. “I did a year in Ilium High. Didn’t enjoy it.” He wiped the fiery remains of the flake on his paper plate. “Thought I’d fit in better.”
“It work?”
Jerk shook his head and then shrugged. “Uniforms can only do so much.” He adjusted his straw. “Teenage boys will find ways to hate on each other.”
“They make fun of you for being queer?” They wiped their face, brushing crumbs off. “Before I got kicked out by my stepdad at 16, my semi-official name at Locks High was ‘Dyke Bitch.’” Kid made a motion like they were straightening a shirt and tie. “Didn’t quite fit, but I still decided to wear it with pride.”
Jerk made a face at the mention of ‘Dyke Bitch’ and then his mouth hung open for a moment. “I— Huh. That didn’t occur to me.”
“What didn’t?”
“That I might be queer.”
Kid blinked. They tilted their head. Blinked again. Sipped their coke.
“I never had crushes like other people. Never got the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing. Took me a while to realize I was even supposed to.”
He looked at Kid, something raw in his expression–an earnestness they hadn’t seen before. Like he’d stumbled into a question he hadn’t realized he needed to ask.
“Boy. Girl. Anyone. Never happened.” He looked away. “Figured it never would.”
“But who would you think about about when you…”
Jerk said the name of a journalist who covered politics. “I used to imagine them interviewing me while I did. They always asked such great questions.”
“I’m not sure if that’s weird or endearing.”
The mall fountain was dry and barren of a single penny.
“No wishes will be made today,” Jerk said, sitting on a bench facing it.
Kid sat beside him, elbows on knees, swishing the last of their coke and ice around in their cup. “You planning on making wishes today?”
“Wouldn’t come true.” He motioned at the fountain. “Made plenty of wishes here and none did, fountain’s defective.”
“Maybe your wishes were too selfish. What did you wish for?”
“To be normal.”
Kid laughed. “Aiming for the stands with that one, Mr 60 Minutes.” They pulled a penny out of their pocket and turned it over in their fingers. “Should’ve gone to Harmony Commons.” Kid flipped the penny. “Quality wish fulfillment.”
“No bookstore. Never saw the point.” Jerk leaned back, supporting himself with his arms, elbows locked. “Get lots of wishes fulfilled?”
“Just one.” Kid mimicked Jerk’s position and stared at the fountain. “Took lots of tries. Wished I wasn’t a—” Kid stopped. “Know what happened?”
“You woke one morning and weren’t one?”
Kid stood up and stretched, arms wide, smiling. “Better. I realized I’d never been one.”
Jerk stood up as Kid pitched the penny into the empty fountain. “Guess that’s one wish made.” He looked at the penny where it had come to rest, shining under a spotlight—molten copper, like Kid’s eyes. He looked away. “What for?”
“I’ll tell you when it comes true.”
“It’s always the same moves at the start.” Jerk said, watching the ghosts move on screen while Kid jerked the joystick. It was just them and the arcade attendant, half dozing behind the prize counter. “Like people.”
“People don’t always move the same.” Kid said. Ghosts were chasing them.
“Left.” Jerk said. Kid pushed the joystick left. Inexplicably, two ghost went right. “See, like people.” Jerk’s face was thoughtful. “It’s about where they’re expecting to go next, not where they need to.”
“Still didn’t help.” Kid said as they steered almost immediately into a ghost. They held up a quarter. “You want to play?”
“Nah, I don’t want to be here for 45 minutes.”
They nearly walked into McNally coming around a corner as they were leaving.
“Jerk. Jerk’s friend.” McNally’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Name’s Kid.” Kid didn’t shrink.
“Sure it is.” McNally barely glanced at Kid. “So is it true? The deli counter has reopened?” McNally made a lip smacking noise, wet and squishy. “It’s been too long since I’ve had one of Tiny’s specials.”
Jerk jerked his thumb towards Kid. “Paulie’s teaching Kid to run it.”
McNally’s eyes lit up the way a cat’s did when they spotted a bird. He turned to Kid, slow and deliberate, like he was actually seeing them for the first time. “Is that right?” His eyes flicked over them, calculating. “That’s a lot of responsibility for someone so young. Tiny must be fond of you.”
“He knows I can do the job.” Kid crossed their arms, chin set.
“Then please do.” McNally looked at Jerk. “The city doesn’t run right without Tiny’s specials.” He kept his eyes on Jerk the whole time he said it before turning back to kid.
Jerk looked at his watch, they had an out. “We’ve got a bus.” He motioned to Kid. “Com’on, we’ve only got a minute.”
“Tell Tiny he’ll be getting an order soon!” McNally shouted after them as they hurried towards the stop.
They had more than a minute to catch the bus, but not much more.
“Guy creeps me out.” Kid exhaled the words as they let their shoulders relax finally. They were nearly alone on the bus.
“McNally? You get used to him.”
“I don’t want to get used to him.” Kid shifted in their seat. “I want to understand what I’m getting into.” Kid hesitated. “I feel like I’ve stepped into something that’s been running a long time without me.”
Jerk put his hand where they could reach it. “I can’t explain it… it’s Ilium stuff.”
“Ilium stuff.” Kid thought about it. “You mean like the Vanderkill Witch? Dragging people under?” The bus came to a stop in front of a half-empty strip mall and paused there for the thirty seconds required by the schedule as no one got on or off.
“Ilium has ru– No.” Jerk stopped and thought. “Not rules. Patterns.” He struggled for the words.
“Patterns?” Kid studied him for a second before finally reaching over, fingers curling around his. They squeezed.
“The same things happening over and over. Sandwich deliveries. People offering themselves to the Witch. Burning the Horse.” He made a face. “People drinking from the river for luck.”
They’d passed the discount store and were easing down the hill back into Foundry, the low gear rattling the bus and them.
“We’re doing all these rituals, each a small prayer Ilium will never change.”