up?”
Jalay shrugged. “Who knows? He hasn’t even broken up with Rosalia yet.”
“Why would he do that?” Russo squeezed the egg as hard as he could, but it was solid. When he didn’t get a response, he looked up and saw Jalay staring back at him.
“Are you serious?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” warned Russo. “Fucking what?”
“She’s the one that shopped that picture of us, the one that sent you into a ‘tard frenzy. It was all over the school boards today. You didn’t see them?”
“Like I give a shit when the pep rally is.”
Jalay’s mouth dropped open for a moment, followed by a shimmering of his veneer. Shaking his head, he dimmed his palette and stowed it under his arm.
“Where’re you going?”
“Home,” he replied, standing up. “I’m not sitting here all night.”
As he walked away, Russo felt the stifling pressure of betrayal descend on him. Never would he have thought Jalay capable of walking away from him, certainly not in the middle of a conversation. Angry, he stood and followed his former friend down the steps and through the lobby. He caught up with him on the sidewalk outside and pulled at his thick shoulder.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Russo demanded.
Jalay stared back, his veneer blank, his eyes a bit disinterested.
“You don’t walk out on me! You need me!”
“Yeah, like I need someone to beat me half to death when I step on his heel!” Jalay barked the words, as if he had been preparing them for days. “Someone to lose his shit over a fucking shop ! We’ve been making fun of Deron for years and not once did he ever do anything to us. That was the game! You took it too far. You always do that.”
Russo felt the pain in his teeth spread to his jaw, then his entire face. He was biting down so hard, trying to stem the flow of anger. Every part of his body was primed for a beating, ready to strike out at Jalay and teach him to be more appreciative. There was a lot of history between them, a lot of shared experiences that would cease to mean anything if he laid him out on the sidewalk.
Maybe it was meant to end that way.
Maybe life as he knew it needed to change if he ever wanted to take that next step up. He looked back towards the PD, saw someone exiting the large wooden doors in front, someone he had been expecting for a long time.
“First,” said Russo, buttoning the lower part of his jacket, “fuck you.”
“Not with your mother’s dick,” replied Jalay.
“We don’t know each other anymore, you hear me?” Russo’s voice was calm and steady. “Next time I see you, I treat you like anyone else. So stay out of my fucking way.”
Jalay rolled his eyes. “Thanks for not murdering me,” he said, turning on his heels. As he walked away, he reconciled his clothes into something more befitting a Saturday night on The Drag. And with that superficial change, Russo lost him in the crowd.
That was okay. He wasn’t interested in a talented but mentally deficient reconciler. He wanted the big fish, the gaunt man making his way down the steps of the Easton PD, the one whose veneer changed dramatically as his shoes hit the sidewalk. At that point, he looked just like anyone else. He didn’t even seem that tall anymore. Maybe it was all an act, the way uniforms dressed up when they were out on the street, only in reverse. For the Seer, his work was inside the building, so when he arrived, he changed himself into something other-worldly to inspire fear.
Russo smirked, couldn’t believe he had been fooled so easily. Agent Tavarez wasn’t a cyborg or an alien; he was just a normal guy with a strange veneer. Everything about him was unarguably human, from the way he nodded to strangers, to the slow pace at which he walked.
Human. And easy to follow.
13 - Deron
It took half an hour to clear security at the southern gate leading out of Easton. Even though the bus terminal was right across the street, the same uniforms that watched them
Jalay shrugged. “Who knows? He hasn’t even broken up with Rosalia yet.”
“Why would he do that?” Russo squeezed the egg as hard as he could, but it was solid. When he didn’t get a response, he looked up and saw Jalay staring back at him.
“Are you serious?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” warned Russo. “Fucking what?”
“She’s the one that shopped that picture of us, the one that sent you into a ‘tard frenzy. It was all over the school boards today. You didn’t see them?”
“Like I give a shit when the pep rally is.”
Jalay’s mouth dropped open for a moment, followed by a shimmering of his veneer. Shaking his head, he dimmed his palette and stowed it under his arm.
“Where’re you going?”
“Home,” he replied, standing up. “I’m not sitting here all night.”
As he walked away, Russo felt the stifling pressure of betrayal descend on him. Never would he have thought Jalay capable of walking away from him, certainly not in the middle of a conversation. Angry, he stood and followed his former friend down the steps and through the lobby. He caught up with him on the sidewalk outside and pulled at his thick shoulder.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Russo demanded.
Jalay stared back, his veneer blank, his eyes a bit disinterested.
“You don’t walk out on me! You need me!”
“Yeah, like I need someone to beat me half to death when I step on his heel!” Jalay barked the words, as if he had been preparing them for days. “Someone to lose his shit over a fucking shop ! We’ve been making fun of Deron for years and not once did he ever do anything to us. That was the game! You took it too far. You always do that.”
Russo felt the pain in his teeth spread to his jaw, then his entire face. He was biting down so hard, trying to stem the flow of anger. Every part of his body was primed for a beating, ready to strike out at Jalay and teach him to be more appreciative. There was a lot of history between them, a lot of shared experiences that would cease to mean anything if he laid him out on the sidewalk.
Maybe it was meant to end that way.
Maybe life as he knew it needed to change if he ever wanted to take that next step up. He looked back towards the PD, saw someone exiting the large wooden doors in front, someone he had been expecting for a long time.
“First,” said Russo, buttoning the lower part of his jacket, “fuck you.”
“Not with your mother’s dick,” replied Jalay.
“We don’t know each other anymore, you hear me?” Russo’s voice was calm and steady. “Next time I see you, I treat you like anyone else. So stay out of my fucking way.”
Jalay rolled his eyes. “Thanks for not murdering me,” he said, turning on his heels. As he walked away, he reconciled his clothes into something more befitting a Saturday night on The Drag. And with that superficial change, Russo lost him in the crowd.
That was okay. He wasn’t interested in a talented but mentally deficient reconciler. He wanted the big fish, the gaunt man making his way down the steps of the Easton PD, the one whose veneer changed dramatically as his shoes hit the sidewalk. At that point, he looked just like anyone else. He didn’t even seem that tall anymore. Maybe it was all an act, the way uniforms dressed up when they were out on the street, only in reverse. For the Seer, his work was inside the building, so when he arrived, he changed himself into something other-worldly to inspire fear.
Russo smirked, couldn’t believe he had been fooled so easily. Agent Tavarez wasn’t a cyborg or an alien; he was just a normal guy with a strange veneer. Everything about him was unarguably human, from the way he nodded to strangers, to the slow pace at which he walked.
Human. And easy to follow.
13 - Deron
It took half an hour to clear security at the southern gate leading out of Easton. Even though the bus terminal was right across the street, the same uniforms that watched them
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