Page 83 of Possession

The boys pile on the beds, and, ten minutes in, it’s abundantly clear that no one is actually watching the randomly selected comedy. Even with subtitles and the music slightly lowered, it’s difficult to follow any dialogue. What’s more, the boys are all talking over one another, sloshing their drinks and coughing. I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t think that I like parties very much.

I’m in the middle rehearsing an excuse to leave when the majority of the boys abandon the movie to join me below. The rest stay on the bed, too high to move. It feels too awkward to leave now that they’re close, their interest in me renewed, so I stay put and keep drinking.

At some point, one of Simon’s friends, whose name I still don’t know, turns to me quite abruptly and says, “Can I ask you something?”

To which I shrug.

He scoots his chair closer to me. “Why do you think Aris came here?”

I don’t respond at first, and my face must be particularly blank because someone adds, “It’s one of those great mysteries, you know?”

The music is quieter now. The other conversations have stopped, and the others are staring at me. Waiting for my answer. Even the highest have managed to prop themselves up on an elbow. The familiar anxiety of speaking in front of a group of people bites at me.

“Great mysteries?” I ask, stalling while my heart drops. Is this why I was invited? Because of him?

I wish that they’d asked about my interests, but I realize with a start that I wouldn’t even know what to say. Of course, I’d had hobbies and things that I liked to do, before, but it’s so far away from me now.

What do I like? Who am I?

I’m so troubled that I miss what someone says and hardly catch another adding on, “Some people say he’s the second coming and that he’s here to punish the sinners. Revelations, Christianity—the end of the world and all of that. The mages said his appearance is just a random decision he made, but I never bought that.”

“Me either,” is chorused about.

The boy goes on, “I don’t think ultra-powerful things like Aris make random choices, you know? I feel like it has to be some kind of cosmic move humans can’t comprehend. But you’d know best. What’s the truth?”

The truth?

My head rings; there is a buzzing in my ears. They think that I know?

What do you want? Why did you pick me? Why are you here? How many times had I asked him those exact questions, demanded and begged for answers, only to be met with smug silence?

He used to talk about ruling the world, but he discussed ending it just as frequently. He enjoyed being worshiped and seeing Silva bow to him, but he was just as frustrated by human interference. I can’t imagine that Aris came here with either in mind if he still can’t settle on one versus the other.

He was here before but left after some years; I don’t know why he did that either. Why return?

“I don’t know. He never told me,” I finally say. And it isn’t my job to wonder about it anymore.

Something in my tone makes him sit back in his seat, a twinge of disappointment in his eyes. It isn’t the answer he wants. They want something juicy and frightening, a story. But I’m just as in the dark as they are.

“Ah, well,” he says, then shrugs and laughs in an attempt to clear the air.

I try to laugh with him, but the noise comes out awkward and unpracticed. The boys are staring at me again.

“Do you have more to drink?” I ask, and they smile again.

“Of course,” someone says and takes my cup, filling it once more.

After that, we drop the topic of evil gods, and I drink until I stop questioning what Aris might have to say about all of this. By the time I leave, I think I’m properly drunk.

The boys boo my exit, but I don’t think I’ll really be missed. I shut Simon’s door behind me, smile faltering at the sight of Henry leaning against the wall.

He’s half in the dark, the contour doing wonders for his cheekbones and face. His lips curve when I step closer. “Mary,” he says and places a hand on my shoulder.

It takes me a second to realize it’s to steady me. My breath still catches.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. “I wanted to say goodnight.”

“Why didn’t you come inside?” I ask.

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