Perennial by Ryan Potter

useless to most residents and therefore empty
most of the time. I guess you could say the Detroit People Mover has never
really earned its name.
    I’m
thinking about all of this as we head down the service drive because it is downright dark and creepy around here. My stomach is doing flips as we turn
right on a street called Wilkins, where Lewis parks the battered truck curbside.
There’s nothing around but darkness, overgrown fields, and abandoned buildings
tagged with graffiti. I don’t see any cars, and I find it hard to believe we’re
sitting in the middle of the modern Motor City. Honestly, it feels more like
some postapocalyptic warzone in Eastern Europe or something. The only evidence
of any life is the low hum of vehicles whipping along I-75 in the distance and
the twinkling lights of the waterfront buildings along the Detroit River to the
south.
    “Is
this Oval City?” I ask, scanning both sides of the desolate street.
    “There,”
Lewis says, cutting the headlights and pointing across the street, where four gutted
housing towers stand in the distance like hollowed-out giants. Single-story
structures dot the barren landscape as well, but it’s the graffiti-laden towers
that grab your attention. “It’s hard to believe a lot of good people used to
actually live here.”
    “I
don’t see a single light.”
    “You
won’t,” Lewis says, head on a swivel as he moves uneasily in his seat. “Unless
it’s a flashlight or a fire.”
    “You
okay?”
    “Not
really.” He clears his throat. “I haven’t been down here in almost three years.
I was always stoned out of my mind too. This is the first time I’ve been near
this place sober.”
    “How
do you feel?” I reach for his hand and hold it.
    “Thankful
but terrified,” he says, guiding my hand to the side of his soft but masculine
face and allowing it to rest there. It feels as if I’m touching the world’s
most perfect sculpture.
    “Lewis,
can I ask you a question?”
    “You
can ask me anything, Alix.”
    “Is
something happening between us?”
    He
thinks about it and finally nods, saying, “Yes. I think we both know
something’s happening between us.”
    I
stare deep into his eyes, thinking that if my life ended at this very moment I
would die the happiest seventeen-year-old girl on the planet.
    “Look
…” I trail off, unsure what to say. “I don’t know … it’s just that I’m
so new at this, okay? I’m new to all of this.” I laugh and shake my head to
make sure I’m not dreaming. “I’m sitting here in the middle of a dangerous city
I promised my dad I would never go to without him. I’m with a guy he’s never met,
a guy who just fled the scene of an accident, and I even flushed illegal drugs
down the toilet of my own house today.”
    “Don’t
forget about the knife in your pocket, badass.”
    “Exactly!”
I say, laughing.
    Lewis
laughs too. “So you’re on some quest or something, okay? Just let it happen.
I’m here to help you and keep you safe. You wanted to see Oval City because you
know it has something to do with William’s death. Take a good look. There it
is. And this is as close as we’re getting today, so can we leave now?”
    “Yes,”
I say, still touching his face. “Thanks for showing me.”
    He
tilts his head to the right and leans toward me. Time seems to slow as he
brings his lips closer to my own. I follow his lead and lean forward to meet
him. He places his palms on either side of my face. My whole body tingles with
the kind of excitement I’ve only felt in my dreams about William. An amazing
feeling of warmth spreads through me as I realize what’s about to happen.
    “Lewis?”
I whisper, our lips inches from touching.
    “Alix?”
he says, smiling.
    “No
games, okay?”
    “What
do you mean?” His warm, minty breath washes over me.
    “You
know what I mean,” I say. “Something tells me you have a lot of experience in
this department. I don’t. So don’t play games with