Page 161 of Sigils & Spells

I motioned for him to hold on and vanished back into the bathroom to rinse out my mouth before answering. “Some weirdo Ren fair looking douchebag tried to drug her drink and I drank it in his face to prove a point. Not my brightest moment, but I got him kicked out of the party.”

Minho sat up straight, suddenly wide-eyed, “Holy shit. You did what? Did she not know?”

I shrugged. “It’s all kind of a blur after that. The guy said some cryptic Shakespeare shit and then I went to find her. She was only a few sips in and had set the drink down to go to the bathroom. I don’t think the guy knew I was watching.”

Miho rubbed his eyes. “Jesus Christ Julian. You are the worst decision maker I’ve ever met. Why? Why was drinking it your choice.”

“I become belligerent when I’m drunk, and it seemed the next best thing to do besides start a fight that I’d lose.”

“What about calling the police?”

“It didn’t occur to me.” I shook my head. “I got him kicked out and I think the owners did call the police.”

“You are exhausting.”

“I aim to please.” I offered him a light courtesy. “But don’t worry my lesson has been learned, I’ve never had a hangover this bad.”

“You have a hangover?” Minho frowned at me. “You’ve literally never gotten a hangover.”

“I know right.”

My roommate sighed and rubbed his head. “What do you mean ‘Ren fair’?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He was in a costume, like he was going to a renaissance festival. He had a whole vibe, like he was an actor or cosplayer that took his role way too seriously.”

Miho shook his head again, still dumb founded. “I’m glad you’re both ok. You’re an idiot, but, you could have saved her life, man.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’d been too drunk at the time to think it through. To think I was doing anything more than giving a big middle finger to that guy, but it was more than that. He was more than a jerk I’d foiled. He could have really wanted to hurt Lizzie. I suddenly wished I’d been more sober, so I could have called the police instead of passing out in a fairy ring.

“Well…” Minho didn’t look like he knew what to say either, but then slapped his hands on his knees like someone’s dad and stood. “I’ve got work pretty soon. I hope you’re staying home. You look like shit.”

“I am absolutely not going in.” I followed him to his bedroom door as he pulled out the black pants and Rodeo Blaze t-shirt that was our uniform. “I slept in a field of mushrooms, and I smell like grass and fried pickles. That I never even got to eat.”

“I’ll bring you some pickles as long as you promise me, no partying tonight.”

“What do I look like to you? Some kind of party animal?” I grinned at him.

“You look like you got dug up this morning, you corpse. Take a shower.”

“Aye aye, Mr. Song.” I gave him a mock salute and turned away, stiffly like a soldier, quickly ducking the shoe he tossed at my head and darted into the bathroom, slamming the door right as the other shoe smacked into it.

I could hear him laughing from the hallway.

I still had on my own uniform from the night before. Black jeans and rodeo t-shirt, only now the jeans were ripped at the knee and a little grass stained. They always smelled like beer and sweat and cow, but now they smelled like all of that plus grass and something else I couldn’t describe. But…it made me think of that dream. The woman made out of tree branches and the party. Faceless beautiful figures in gowns that flowed and moved like they were made of spider webs. Every movement sent the cloth billowing around them ethereally. They maneuvered around each other so gracefully it was almost like an impossible dance with untold steps, like their feet weren’t touching the ground.

The woman had two huge antler-like branches growing from her brow bones that sprouted with clumps of leaves and small, white flowers. Her skin was made of tree bark, but her features were those of a beautiful woman with full red lips and eyes like chunks of sapphires. In her outstretched hand was, the reddest, most perfect apple I’d ever seen. She was offering it to me. I’d taken it, looking the woman in her eyes as I took a bite. I chewed and swallowed. Something about the sweetness in my throat made me feel powerful, like my legs were so much stronger than they’d ever been. Like I could run forever. But suddenly I remembered that I didn’t like apples. I made a face and put the apple back.

“No thank you,” I’d said and smiled. The woman’s face was suddenly much less human, and her frame stretched up into a huge tree hunched over me. Her mouth split open, filled with hundreds of teeth made of splinters and thorns and she screamed something I couldn’t hear over the gentle music of the party and the whispering swish of the dancers’ clothes.

That’s when I woke up. Everything smelled like grass, and not even the fun kind. Just plain old, garden variety grass.

I shook off the dream and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away all the smells and bad dreams from my skin.

Minho soon called his departure through the door, and I heard the heavy shut of the front door. The shower’s water filled the silence.

With my roommate gone, the emptiness of my apartment suddenly felt stifling, so I sped through the shower, scrubbing myself down till my skin felt clean and a little raw.

Wrapped in my towel, I switched the TV in the living room on so the voices of whatever sitcom Minho had been watching could replace the silence.

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