We All Looked Up by Tommy Wallach

room.
    â€œSo,” he said, “death.”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œHow are you feeling?”
    â€œI don’t even know. It doesn’t seem real yet. I mean, what are we supposed to do? What’s going to happen?”
    â€œNothing good.”
    A raucous cry, then the sound of something shattering. A sickle-­shaped fragment of coffee mug slid across the floor from the game room to knock against Peter’s sneaker.
    â€œSo those are Bobo’s friends, huh?”
    â€œFriends would be pushing it.”
    â€œWell, I can see why you’d want to be involved with such classy people.”
    â€œLeave it alone, man.”
    But he’d seized on something important now, and he wouldn’t let it go without a fight. Even if he accomplished nothing else before the end of the world, at least he could set his sister straight.
    â€œListen, Miz. I know you’ve never liked Stacy, and I know I’ve never liked Bobo, but that doesn’t make them equivalent issues.” He could see her eyes beginning to glaze over. “Bobo’s a thug. It’s his fault you weren’t with the family tonight. It’s his fault your grades this year have been a train wreck.”
    Misery leaned back against the window at the far end of the booth. “Can you even hear yourself? Who cares about grades anymore?”
    â€œIt’s not your grades that I’m worried about.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œYour . . . soul,” Peter said, and wondered where the hell that word had come from. “I know guys like Bobo, Miz. They don’t give a shit about anything.”
    â€œHe gives a shit about me. And you don’t know him. You don’t know how fucked up his life has been. That’s why he acts the way he does. And every time I make him happier, I feel good. He makes me feel good.”
    â€œMisery, you weren’t put here on Earth to cheer up a scumbag.”
    As soon as he said it, he knew he’d gone too far. Misery struck back hard. “You’re the one with a girlfriend you don’t love,” she said. “And I’ve never cheated on Bobo.” She slid out of the booth. “Not that you’d care, but he and I did break up once. And he tried to kill himself. So, you know, there’s that.”
    His sister stormed out of the café, while Peter sat back and tried to process this new information. It did clear up one thing; now he could understand how Misery had gotten hooked. The prospect of rescuing someone from death itself—what was more compelling than that?
    There was another loud crash from the game room. A member of Golden’s crew came out, wincing and grinning at the same time. His hand was covered in red streamers of blood, and a shard of glass protruded from between his knuckles like a shark fin. “My ball got stuck in that fucking machine,” he said, by way of explanation.
    Misery refused to talk to him on the way home, so Peter just watched the road. He counted three ambulances, two fire engines, and seven police cars. It had already started. . . .
    Home again, Misery ran straight upstairs, ignoring their parents, who’d waited up in the living room.
    â€œIs she okay?” his mom asked.
    Peter laughed bitterly at the ridiculousness of the question—at the fact that, for the next two months, all such questions would be ludicrous and insensitive and insane.
    â€œYeah, Mom,” he said. “She’s fantastic.”

A ndy
    THEY RAN AROUND LIKE CHICKENS with their balls cut off. Teachers. Administrators. Officials. An all-shook-up ant farm of adults, so used to being in control of everything that they didn’t even realize the days of control were over. Next to them, the students looked downright chill. Andy figured that was probably because kids were always getting thrown into shit they had no control over. Then again, he wasn’t feeling particularly chill himself; after a long weekend