The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra

HARUMI WAS ALREADY in the dorm when I moved back in. She was on her desk when I unlocked the door, and when she saw me, she rose from her seat and hugged me.

“Happy New Year, Quinn,” she said, smiling as she pulled away. “So, how were the holidays?”

I put down my luggage and shrugged, laughing a little to mask my uneasiness. “Nothing special, really,” I said. “I ate, slept, and played video games. It was just nice seeing my parents and dog again.”

I sat on the edge of my bunk bed. It felt surreal being back. It was hard to imagine that I had only three months of the school year left.

What would happen by then? Would things be okay or would I have to continue dealing with Cassandra? So much uncertainty lurked ahead, making it hard to look forward.

“What about you?” I asked Harumi. “How did your holidays go?”

Harumi pursed her lips. “Pretty much the same as you. Ate a lot. Slept a lot. My brothers annoyed the hell out of me, but I still love them. Nevertheless, I was still able to unwind, which was nice.”

She stretched, and something cracked in her shoulder. She shook it off. “Anyway, now that you’re back, I met with Bree earlier this morning. She’s inviting us to go bowling tomorrow. You know, just a little time to have fun before classes start. You in?”

And without thinking, I said I would go.

“Great! I’ll tell Bree you’re coming.”

Harumi sat back down and grabbed her phone from her desk. As her fingers flew over the screen, I was shrouded by a sense of restlessness. It had been less than a week since I’d been discharged from the hospital, since Cassandra had made her most lethal attempt to replace me and take over my body.

So, I would go bowling the next day. I could only hope that everything would be fine, but what if it wouldn’t be? What if something bad were to happen?

That was when I realized that I probably shouldn’t hide my trip to the hospital from Harumi. She already knew that I was physically weak, so in case something did happen, maybe she could get some help. Maybe she could call my parents for me. It wouldn’t stop Cassandra, but there was comfort in knowing that Harumi would be there for me, even if I couldn’t tell her what was wrong.

I kicked off my shoes and brought my feet up on the mattress, resting my elbows on my knees.

“Hey,” I began, turning to Harumi. “Remember when Deus Ex Machina played for the art exhibit and I passed out in the middle of their show?”

The smile on Harumi’s face faded. “Yeah, and I had to take you to the clinic. Why?”

I sighed. At first, I stayed silent. I wondered if Harumi would be able to sense that something was wrong.

And as usual, she did.

She put down her phone and furrowed her brows. “Did it happen again when you were home for the holidays?”

Slowly, I nodded. “Had to be admitted to the hospital this time. I was unconscious for two days.”

“Quinn—”

“My parents are super worried about me now. They want me to call every day. These episodes of mine may come without warning. So, if something like at the exhibit happens to me again, can you call my mom for me? I’ll give you her number.”

“Yeah. Of course, Quinn. But let’s hope it doesn’t happen.”

“Trust me. I don’t want it to happen again.”

Harumi nodded and sighed. “But what did the doctors say?”

I hesitated. “I’m… anemic, apparently. I need to take some stupid tablets every night.”

“Well, if they help. So can you still go bowling tomorrow? I can stay with you here if you want. I can tell Bree—”

“No, no,” I held out a hand. “I’m going.”

Harumi blinked. “Quinn, are you sure?”

“I’ll probably just take it easy. Besides, I had a checkup yesterday before coming here. The doctor said I’m good. I just need to take those tablets and not overexert myself.”

“Okay. If you’re sure…”

The sad thing was that it wouldn’t make a difference if I went or not. Either way, Cassandra could strike whenever she wanted. There would be no warnings, no precautionary measures. It would just happen. It was like I had contracted an incurable disease, and it would only be a matter of time before I would succumb to it. I couldn’t keep hoping for the Author to come back, nor should I keep counting on Julio to save me. I shouldn’t put that burden on him.

Nevertheless, I shouldn’t keep waiting for Cassandra to come back. No matter what, I was going bowling with Harumi and Deus Ex Machina. I was going to enjoy myself, even if it was just for a day.

To spare the suspense, Cassandra didn’t make an appearance at the bowling alley, nor did she cause any trouble.

However, little did I know that I would be dealing with another can of worms that day, one that would make me wonder if I had done something to cause it.

As Harumi and I arrived at the venue, Bree greeted us by the snack bar where she’d gotten herself a large cup of soda and a few snacks. Philip and Rachael talked on a retro-looking bench right by the front desk, where bowling shoes were stacked behind the cashier. I looked around. The bowling alley was moderately packed with people, mostly teens and young adults looking for a last-minute hangout before school started.

But someone was missing. No matter how hard I looked, Curtis was nowhere to be seen.

“Glad you guys can make it,” Bree said. “Get some snacks first. We’re seated over there.” She pointed toward Philip and Rachael before joining them by the front counter.

Harumi and I lined up at the snack bar, and once we got our orders, Harumi turned to me and whispered, “The food at these places is always so expensive.”

And she was right. The food tasted ordinary; it was like anything we could get at a convenience store. We would have saved almost half the price, too.

We then sat down with Bree, Rachael, and Philip and talked about what we did over the holidays. Philip’s mom hosted a family reunion in their tiny apartment. A lot of his relatives got drunk and sang too much karaoke. Bree went out of town to meet a friend who was visiting. Finally, Rachael’s parents, who both worked abroad, came home for the holidays and showered her with lots of souvenirs. Among those gifts were sweets and chocolates, which she handed out in nicely wrapped goody bags.

I took mine and muttered my thanks. It was funny how I used to hate her for being Curtis’ girlfriend, but now that I knew Julio’s story, it was hard to believe that she would jump into the Lethe to save the boy she loved. Even if her attempt to get rid of the Girl was unsuccessful, her selflessness was, without a doubt, immeasurable. I didn’t think I’d have the guts to do that if I were in her shoes.

Speaking of shoes, we all eventually got up to get our bowling shoes fitted. Then, we each grabbed a ball from the rack and walked over to our lanes, the scoreboard flashing before us.

And there was still no sign of Curtis.

I thought he was just late. Sometimes, people just don’t arrive on time, but as the bowling match progressed (me failing miserably to keep my ball on the lane), I realized that no one had mentioned Curtis at all.

Then, it was Rachael’s turn to step up to the lane. She swung her arm back, and her ball rolled down at ferocious speeds. Suddenly, all of us were gasping, cheering, and clapping our hands as all the pins came crashing down.

It was the first strike of the match.

Bree walked up to Rachael and gave her a high five. “Nice going, Rache. Was Stevenson on your mind when you brought those pins to their knees?”

Rachael scoffed. “Who cares about him? Now shut up, Leonard. It’s your turn.”

As Bree grabbed her bowling ball and walked up to the lane, I approached Philip and tapped him on the shoulder.

“What was that about?” I asked him.

Philip squinted his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Did something happen between Rachael and Curtis? Is that why Curtis isn’t here?”

“Ah, right. Nobody told you yet, huh?”

“Told me what?”

Philip lowered his voice. “I dunno much of the details, but things got really bad between them over the holidays. And eventually, they just broke it off…”

I should have seen that coming. Curtis and Rachael weren’t the nicest to each other in the days approaching the Christmas party. Rachael had been the last one inside Curtis’ house when he threw that party almost two months ago. Despite the Stevensons’ draconian methods to get the answers they wanted, Curtis had promised Rachael countless times that he would stand by her, that he would talk sense to his parents if needed.

I wondered if something had changed, or if their breakup was related to the party at all.

I couldn’t keep doing this to myself, but I couldn’t help it. I imagined how differently things would have turned out if I hadn’t gone to the party. All that trouble identifying who’d crashed into the Stevenson household had been because of me. Mackenzie attacked because of me. Julio got involved because of me.

And Rachael had been pulled into this mess. Because of me.

I erased her memories, making me the reason why she couldn’t remember anything from the party, why the Stevensons broke into her room—

And probably why she was no longer with Curtis.

Rachael won the bowling match that day. It was no surprise. Throughout the match, she maintained a significant lead over everyone. I wondered if bowling had helped her release any negative emotions she felt toward Curtis. She simply shrugged and sighed at the mention of his name.

The speculation had been that Rachael was the one who broke it off. It made sense that way. We all saw how she cried and yelled at Curtis after seeing her room in disarray. She never had a proper conversation with him after that; their words came out stiff, and she probably couldn’t deal with the awkwardness any longer.

“It was Curtis who broke it off,” Rachael said. “Not me.”

Everyone leaned forward at that revelation. We were at a fast-food restaurant grabbing some dinner after the bowling match. By the time we all settled with our food, we all wanted to know what happened between her and Curtis. We didn’t want to push her, of course, but she remained stoic as she revealed who’d been the first to let go. Her voice was low, almost quiet, but the reactions came bursting at her.

“Curtis broke it off?” Philip gasped. “Why would he do that?”

“His parents didn’t do anything again, did they?” Harumi asked.

“If that’s the reason, then that’s just pathetic,” Bree muttered.

“What ever happened to standing by your side and talking sense to his folks? Was there a change of plans? Were Mommy and Daddy too much to handle?”

“Guys,” Rachael said. She held an onion ring near her mouth, but she decided to put it down so that she could speak. “While it sucks that they won’t let the investigation on the party go, Curtis is trying his best to make sure that they don’t get another student involved unless a clear lead is established. And from what he said, they seem to be listening to him.”

“Well, let’s hope for that,” Philip said. “But if things are going well with his parents, then why did you guys break up?”

Rachael sighed. “After being bitter with each other, it was only during Christmas vacation that we were able to just… talk, you know? We sorted everything out. I couldn’t forgive his folks for what they did to my dorm, and because of that, I began to feel uncomfortable around him. I was only holding on to him because of the band. I didn’t want the end of our relationship to be the end of Deus Ex Machina, as well. With Curtis breaking things off, he only made things easy for me.”

“Y’all didn’t do this over the phone, did you?” Bree asked.

Rachael shook her head. “Of course not. We met at a café. At least the cake was delicious…”

I wondered how that had gone. I imagined them sitting at the most reclusive table they could find, probably in the farthest corner by a window, where you could count cars if things got awkward.

Perhaps they had coffee to go with their pastries, which was something you’d expect from a date, not a breakup. To make things more contradictory, the café could be playing soft, joyous Christmas music just as Curtis chose to break things off.

“So, you and Curtis are still gonna play in the band?” I asked. “Together?”

“Yeah, isn’t that… awkward?” Harumi added.

“That was what he promised me,” Rachael explained. “Our relationship may be over, but we’ll still stick around for the band.”

Bree rolled her eyes as she dipped a chicken wing in barbecue sauce. “Let’s see how this train wreck goes,” she muttered.

Philip flashed a dirty look at Bree before turning to Rachael.

“What Bree’s trying to say is that we appreciate you two sticking around for the band, but you don’t have to keep this up if things get rocky between the two of you. We don’t have to resume rehearsals immediately. You guys can take the time to sort things out.”

“Trust us when we say we don’t want that,” Rachael said. “And we already sorted things out. What Curtis and I have in common is that we’re both hardheaded, especially when it comes to music. You can’t pry us away from what we love doing.”

Curtis and the band weren’t mentioned again that night. I guess none of us could argue with Rachael’s decisions; even Bree eventually stopped making side comments. Music was supposed to be the glue that kept Curtis and Rachael together, but glue wasn’t always strong. Rachael had said that we couldn’t pry her and Curtis away from making music, but that didn’t mean they should keep doing it together.

That was something I almost said at the restaurant that day, but the words never escaped my mouth. Perhaps a part of me wanted to see how Deus Ex Machina would continue holding up.

Or if they’d ever hold up at all.

Classes at St. John’s began the next morning. The air was cold and smelled like rain, embracing the school grounds in a sleepy atmosphere. The lull from the holidays hung in the ambiance; I could see it in the way students dragged their feet across the tiles on their way to the classrooms, their faces sagging and their shoulders drooping.

Meanwhile, some students were happy to be back. They greeted their friends with such glee in the halls, recalling the exciting things they did during vacation: going out of town, visiting friends, and shopping. It was always the more well-off students who had interesting vacation stories. The rest would just try to get by.

I shrugged and climbed the steps to my classroom. Five minutes before the first homeroom of the year began, Curtis met me by the door of Class 3.

“Hey, Quinn,” he said. “Happy New Year!”

He seemed cheerful for a guy who had just ended things with his girlfriend, but based on how Rachael recalled the breakup at the bowling alley, they seemed to have gone off in mutual agreement.

“Oh, hey Curtis. Happy New Year,” I greeted him back. “So, how were the holidays?”

“Not so great,” he admitted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Rachael and I have broken up…”

I blinked. I didn’t think I would get his point of view on the breakup so soon. I thought I had to go through a big deal of small talk before I would unlock that dialogue. (Ugh, Curtis wasn’t an NPC, Quinn. I played video games too much over the holidays.)

“I have, actually,” I said. “I met with Rachael earlier. She told me.”

I began to tell him what I knew: The relationship might be over, but their bond with the band wasn’t. I didn’t tell him about the bowling; I wasn’t sure if he was invited to that or not.

Curtis nodded after I spoke. “That’s right. Rachael would do anything to keep the band together, but I would hear how she talked to me and see her face whenever I was around. I just knew. She wasn’t happy with me anymore, and she may never be again. What my folks did to her was awful. I could try, but they probably wouldn’t admit that what they did was wrong. Breaking things off with Rachael was the least I could do for her.”

“I see,” I said solemnly. “I’m sorry things had to end that way between the two of you.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. I think it’s best for the two of us.”

“But what about the band? How will you—”

The door to the classroom opened. Our homeroom teacher came in and placed some documents on the table.

“Let’s talk later?” Curtis asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Later.”

We both returned to our seats as the teacher assumed his spot in front of the classroom. I thought later would come the minute lunch break came around, but it didn’t. In fact, it would be days before I would be able to talk to him again. I noticed that Curtis sat with some boys from Class 3 instead of with Deus Ex Machina, and Bree was telling us—Rachael especially—to avoid looking his way.

“Leave him,” she would say.

However, the band room became their inevitable convergence. During the first few practices after Curtis and Rachael’s breakup, Philip, Bree, and I held our breaths. Singing songs and making music remained the same as ever, but Rachael avoided talking to Curtis, and Curtis did the same. There were the occasional greetings and remarks thrown at each other, but they were so sparse that we’d be surprised whenever they happened. It was like a burst of energy surged through the room, illuminating it for a split second before killing off the power entirely.

We weren’t sure whose game of pretend we were supposed to be playing, as the role of the ghost seemed to shift every few minutes. The plus side was that practices would end early because Rachael wasn’t so particular with their sound anymore. She’d sing a few songs, thank everyone for coming, and everyone would leave.

I wondered when their next gig would be. Would the audience be able to feel the growing lack of harmony in their music? Would they be able to notice the tension between the band members? Or would Deus Ex Machina eventually learn to mask their problems from the viewing eyes?

However, they couldn’t hide from St. John’s student body. Speculations grew noisier with each passing day, and people wondered why Curtis didn’t sit with his band members anymore.

Perhaps Deus Ex Machina already knew that pacifying the crowd was impossible.