The Cupid War by Timothy Carter

be?”
    â€œEnglish class,” Susan said.
    Just take her away , Fallon thought.
    â€œThen that is where you need to be,” Mr. Mehta said. “Come along now.”
    â€œBut I … ” Susan began, staring down at Fallon. “I was … ”
    â€œI can’t have students roaming the hallways during class time,” Mr. Mehta said as he gently but firmly led Susan away. “If I did, you wouldn’t learn anything, and then where would we be?”
    Susan cast one last glance over her shoulder at Fallon, giving him a look that promised things between them weren’t over. At that point, Fallon couldn’t have cared less. Emotionally he was a non-entity, and his mind was almost numb. He lay unmoving on the floor, his eyes fixed on the corridor Susan and the principal had gone down, and his world was nothing except the images he saw. He took in every detail of the hallway doors, of the walls around it, of the soft drink dispenser next to them. However, none of those details mattered in the slightest.
    A tiny part of him wondered if he was still alive.
    Time passed. How much, he couldn’t be certain. Eventually he saw a pair of pink-clad feet appear in front of him, then another pair; Owen and Jada, he guessed. The two Cupids talked, and the feet walked out of his view just before he felt hands lifting him in the air. Owen and Jada slung Fallon’s arms over their shoulders and began walking forward. Fallon’s head faced downward and his neck had no strength, so all he saw was floor.
    They left the school, and then they were back in the Cupid Center; Fallon saw the pavement of the school walkway change to the familiar white flooring. That flooring went by for a short while, then they crossed a threshold into a room.
    A new pair of hands took hold of Fallon and guided him gently down onto a small platform a meter off the floor. Fallon found himself looking up as he was laid down on his back. He saw Jada’s face, looking down on him with genuine concern. Owen stood next to her, staring down at him with disdain.
    What’s his problem, Fallon wondered, before realizing he really didn’t care.
    A new face entered his field of vision, an old yet wise face that regarded him kindly. He’s my friend, Fallon thought, then realized he didn’t care about that, either.
    The man with the kind face went away. Jada said something to him and took her hand off his arm—Fallon didn’t remember her placing her hand there—then she too turned and left. Owen was long gone.
    He lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. And time began to pass.

    p AR t 3

16
    F allon didn’t sleep. His Cupid body didn’t need it. Still, as he lay on the slab in the special room of the Cupid Center, he felt more relaxed than he’d ever felt in his life. Or his afterlife.
    His mind drifted. Sometimes he closed his eyes, sometimes he kept them open. Other Cupids came to visit, but Fallon hardly noticed them. He felt good. There was warmth all around him. He thought he could lie there forever. For all he knew, he had.
    Then, slowly but surely, his perceptions began to change. He started to take note of the people who visited him. Jada. Caleb. Even Louis, though he never looked happy about it. As time passed, Fallon began to pay attention to what they were saying to him.
    Soon he felt restless. He still loved lying there, but he also felt an itch to move around. Still later that itch became an actual desire, and he twitched his arms and then his legs.
    â€œWell, someone’s coming around!”
    The voice came from over Fallon’s head. He tried to turn to get a look, but that kind of movement was currently beyond him.
    â€œ … who … ?” he managed to say. His voice sounded very foreign to him, raspy and hoarse.
    â€œDon’t try to talk just yet,” the stranger said. “Just rest. You are on the road to recovery.”
    Oh , Fallon