I was in a messy dorm room with really good art of hot monsters taped to the walls. Cody sat on a twin-sized bed next to a guy with a shaved head. He was shorter, but he did have an interestin’ mid-western accent. He handed Cody a drawing of ahuge werewolf standing under a solar eclipse, gettin’ a blowjob from a smaller werewolf.
“Happy birthday,” he said before kissing Cody on the cheek. “It’s how I see us.”
“You really like werewolves,” he said. “I love it.”
“We should take a road trip and see the eclipse.”
“That’s kinda far. Can your car even make it?”
These visions hadn’t been happy, but this one was deceptively sweet. I remembered somethin’ Cody said a while ago about being hurt—this must’ve been the guy that did it.
“Only one way to find out.” He shoved Cody with his arm. “Stop always worrying so much.”
“Jim…”
“I mean it. We’ll be fine. It’ll be awesome. I’ll bring my vape pen, and we’ll get high on the way.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever not been high the whole time we’ve been dating.” Even though he said it in a joking way, his tone had this underlyin’ hint of seriousness.
The scene shifted to a hotel parking lot as Cody and the other guy walked around. The area was flat and dry, kinda reminded me of the southwest. The one he’d called Jim was crying, and Cody looked confused.
“I’m a terrible person,” he said, wiping his face.
“You’re not a terrible person. Where did this come from all of a sudden?”
“I just… think we should chill.”
“We’re a thousand miles away from home. Are you breaking up with me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we need to take some time. You’re still precious to me, though.”
The sun disappeared and Cody sat alone in a small room, holdin’ the drawing in his hands.
“You were a terrible person,” he whispered, tossin’ his cell phone onto the bed next to him. The last few messages made me angry.
We don’t even talk anymore. I just want a friend.
Sorry. I can’t give you what you need, Cody. Find some other friends.
He balled up the drawing and threw it into the trash before turning out the lights.
The vision shifted into a mostly empty studio. There wasn’t a TV or a couch, just a twin air mattress on the floor with some neatly made-up sheets. The dining area consisted of a small table decorated with jarred candles, and even though the place looked a bit run-down, it had Cody’s charm. He always kept everything neat no matter where he was. Everything was meticulously placed, folded, vacuumed, dusted, and smellin’ fresh.
Before we met, I never did care that much about neatness. I came crashing into his sterilized world like an out of control dump truck. After this was over, I was gonna start carin’ a lot more.
I understood these visions. Cody must’ve found the ferals, and they were giving us a test. Never knew whether this was their doing or if the magic they used had a life of its own. I did remember some pretty strict rules about who could use it and when, and I wasn’t too keen on going through this again considering what it did to me last time I failed.
A little rainbow-colored cupcake sat in the middle of a saucer with one unlit candle in it. A plastic bag crinkling from the kitchen caught my ear as I watched Cody pour boxed wine into a red Solo cup. It might have been cheap, but I always did like the taste of that stuff. Hell, I used to carry those around with huge bendy straws sticking out of ‘em.
He put the box back into a mostly empty fridge and dragged himself to the table, set the wine next to the cupcake, then plopped onto his chair, exhausted.
“Was this the right move?” he asked himself, grabbing a red lighter from his pocket. He was wearin’ a skimpy bar uniform and a pair of ragged running shoes. “Nothing ever feels like home. I’ll never have a real home.”
His eyes were red, and his lashes were damp. I took my place behind him, restin’ my hands on his shoulders. He didn’t acknowledge me, but I could actually feel him in this vision. I could even smell him. Cody always made me feel like I was home, and I’d have given anything to make him feel the same way at that moment. But it was just a vision, and I had no choice but to let it play out.
He lit the candle and closed his eyes. “This is stupid.” With that, he blew out the candle and pushed the cupcake away, then looked over at his cell phone with a sigh. “I hate this day. I was such a mistake.”
“Don’t even. Yer an incredible guy,” I said to him, sitting on the only other chair in the room. “Workin’ full-time while goin’ to school. You went through hell just like I did, but I gave up before I even started. Here you are. You just don’t see what I see.”
