The End of the World As We Know It Page 12

  “Nice work, Evan,” Leo said, meaning it. Ribbons of giddiness shimmied in his stomach, and if that made him seem like a little girl, so be it. If death awaited, at least his bucket list was one item lighter.

  Leo pushed the pedal to the plastic and—despite their collected weight—the truck shot off speedily down an aisle loaded with superhero toys. They plucked Captain America shields and Spider-Man web shooters and Hulk fists from the shelves, rounding the corner and spinning down an aisle filled with kids’ sports equipment. Evan pulled Wiffle bats and catcher’s mitts from the shelves. On his side, Leo scrambled to toss padded mixed martial arts training gear and joust sticks into the cart. They raided an aisle of remote-control vehicles, grabbing cars and helicopters and even a shark that you inflated and flew with a remote control. They added plenty more utterly useless stuff to their makeshift side-cart—a billion-piece LEGO set to build Hogwarts, creepy zombie-skull balls with eyeballs that popped out, and not one but two replicas of the Millennium Falcon. They’d covered half the store and hadn’t even seen the girls yet. They were probably doing quite a job on Barbie’s Headquarters. He smiled as he imagined Sarabeth selecting an Easy-Bake Oven.

  Spinning out into the birthday-party section, Leo saw an item on a high shelf and got an idea. It was perfect.

  “It’s 9:01. Time’s up.”

  19

  EVERYONE’S A WINNER

  Sarabeth Lewis, 8:56 A.M. Sunday, Barbie’s Headquarters

  They were five minutes into their shopping spree, and Sarabeth could safely say she’d never had more fun in her life. Teena’s competitive spirit meant they were reaching never-before-felt speeds on the Barbie Corvette. Teena and Sarabeth each wore several princess crowns, and pink flowing capes streamed out behind them. They had one of every Barbie Doll, a Hello Kitty karaoke set, Rapunzel hair extensions, and—just to indulge herself—Sarabeth had picked up an Easy-Bake Oven, even though electricity wasn’t exactly available. Her mom had never approved of the Easy-Bake Oven when she was little. “Wouldn’t that be like giving you a weight problem on top of everything else?” What “everything else” was had never been explained.

  The soundtrack for their spree came from a battery-operated Kidz Dance radio that played the same three tinny tween songs on a loop. As a twelve-year-old sang about being awesome, it occurred to Sarabeth that they needed to be practical. She hated her inner killjoy, but hadn’t getting supplies been part of Leo’s plan? “Shouldn’t we be looking for stuff that’s useful?”

  Teena shook her head and smiled, her perfect white teeth glimmering under the fluorescent lights. “This is useful,” she said. “In its own way.” She reached out and adjusted one of the crowns decorating Sarabeth’s head.

  Just like that, Sarabeth got it. They were bonding. She and Teena, who’d barely thought of each other in the last five years, suddenly needed each other. And Leo had helped her realize it.

  Leo. What was it about him? It was like he knew just what she needed, and made it happen. All those times in string ensemble, telling her to loosen up and just play—now here she was, just playing, not caring that she might be reduced to alien garnish, and she was really, truly herself. If she made it out alive, maybe her new life rule would be “Be Sarabeth.”

  Teena grabbed and uncapped some tacky blue body glitter for little girls. “Oh, smells good, though.” She rubbed some on her collarbone and did the same for Sarabeth. It did smell good, in a cheap, lavender-vanilla sort of way.

  “Wow, Mommy, don’t let your baby grow up to be a pole dancer,” Sarabeth said cattily, putting a little more in her hair.

  Teena laughed in happy bells. Sarabeth blushed, pleasantly surprised by the effectiveness of her mean comment. Teena swabbed some more on, rendering herself more glittery than was probably fashionable, so Sarabeth did the same, not even concerned they would probably lose to the boys. She and Teena were cracking up laughing, like two old friends, instead of two old friends who were no longer friends.

  “Is it just me, or is this stuff making your skin feel really dry?” Teena said.

  Sarabeth did notice; the glitter was sucking the life out of her pores. “It’s just like the Otherworldly,” she said to Teena.

  “You’re right! And look at this!” She held up another item from the ShimmerGirlz product line, scarily called Gleaminizer Body Glitter Sleepover Spray Shooter, a sparkly gun so friends could presumably have glitter-party wars. “It comes with its own gun!”

  Between the ShimmerGirlz glitter and the Otherworldly cologne, their chances against the Purple Perimeter were improving. Sarabeth couldn’t wait to tell Leo. If he hadn’t led them here, they’d have never found this stuff.

  She could tell Teena was excited, too. “How much time do we have left?” she asked.

  Sarabeth checked her watch. “One minute.”

  “I could use one more tiara. You?” Teena was already driving toward the princess gear.

  “Yes, please!” Sarabeth was in total agreement with her new best friend.

  A minute later, laughing, breathless, and beyond crazy-looking in their royal wigs, multiple crowns, and fairy wings, Teena and Sarabeth spun out into the birthday-party section at the front of the store, where Leo and Evan were waiting, their cart loaded with toy guns and shields and sports equipment.

  Sarabeth dropped her bags on the ground, grinning un-self-consciously. She felt shiny, and not because of ShimmerGirlz. “You won’t believe what we found.”

  Leo grinned back, looking joyful, and her heart flashed inside her. Even though Evan and Teena were in her peripheral vision, she felt like they were alone as Leo took a step closer to her, his hands behind his back. Every part of her, from her throat to the pit of her stomach, felt like nagging spaces she wanted to fill by pulling Leo to her and kissing him for all she was worth. Be Sarabeth, she thought. But there was being Sarabeth and there was giving in to her more cavewoman-esque urges, which wasn’t the best option at a time like this.

  “No matter what it is, I have something even better. For you,” Leo said softly, like they were indeed the last two people on Earth. Sarabeth half expected some heavily synthesized, dreamy-vocaled music to kick in, like in one of the eighties movies her mom forced her to watch in hopes of unleashing Sarabeth’s inner swoony teenager.

  Now her inner teenager was all outer, and she had to fight the oncoming swoon that made her want to sigh loudly. “What is it?” she asked Leo, realizing as she said it that her tone was all bedroom eyes, and not because she was tired.

  From behind his back, he pulled a very cheesy, very big-eyed, very pink teddy bear holding a heart that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY. He held it out to her, and she stepped closer, taking the plush bear from him.

  “But it’s not my birthday,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the bear’s soft fur. “My birthday’s not for a month.”

  “Well, I thought we should celebrate while we still can.” Leo smiled. A loop of hair fell over his left eye, and Sarabeth reached out to push it away without even thinking. Her fingertips brushed the warm skin of his cheek, and her heart shot up another roller-coaster crest.

  Yup, he knew just what she needed. The only sad part was having her first romantic feelings for a guy arrive at the same time the world was probably ending.

  Sarabeth’s fingers were still near Leo’s ear. Her eyes were locked on his as she clutched the bear, which she’d already named Pinkie. She realized Teena and Evan were standing there. Evan was blushing, leaning awkwardly against the guys’ cart full of toys, pretending to be interested in a set of Pokémon cards. Teena was untangling cheap plastic tiaras from her Rapunzel wig, looking tense and … mad? She wasn’t meeting Sarabeth’s eyes. Maybe I’m imagining things, Sarabeth thought. She suddenly felt weird standing there wearing her Belle wig, the brunette swirls cascading down her back. Sarabeth pulled the wig off her own non-swirling, non-cascading hair and hung it neatly on an empty hook.

  Teena tossed her wig to the floor and kicked it away like a piece of
toilet paper that had stuck to her shoe. Definitely mad. She turned to Evan. “Evan, did you pull that cart around with your pitching arm?” She grinned like a cat who’d found a mouse with a broken leg. Teena sauntered up to him, and with a glance toward Leo and Sarabeth, said, “Let me massage it. We so need your arm.”

  She dug into Evan’s arm, kneading like a professional. Teena kept looking at Leo like she wanted him to take notice. “You’re so much more cut than Leo,” Teena said. So there it was. There must have been a time when Teena massaged Leo’s arm. Sarabeth no longer felt like she was in a meet-cute-romantic-teen movie. Instead, she felt about as interesting and attractive as Skipper probably felt next to Barbie.

  Sarabeth clutched her new pink bear by the arm a little more tightly and gave Leo a halfhearted smile. What was it about girls? Why did they always fight when it came to guys? She turned as far as she could away from Teena, literally—if insincerely—sinking her clutches into Evan. Was it wrong that Leo’s return smile made her feel a little bit better? She’d lost Teena as a friend before, so she could manage again. Right?

  20

  A MAN OF ACTION

  Evan Brighton, 9:14 A.M. Sunday, Toys“R”Us

  Teena was all over him. Well, all over his arm. And since his sweater was covered in alien guts, dirt, and his own blood, he was thinking that maybe she really was starting to like him.

  The cool thing was, he really liked her. And not just in a physical way. There was more to her than her petite, curvy frame, and the little freckle that fell right between her tan shoulder and the top of her collarbone. He actually liked her as a person. She was strong and smart and absolutely fearless, and when she laughed, like she had when she and Sarabeth had spun around the corner minutes ago, he wanted to grab the sound out of the air and carry it around with him like a good-luck charm. Being in lust with Teena the fantasy had been easy, even if he’d been scared shitless of that Teena. The real Teena was a challenge he actually looked forward to.

  But now wasn’t the time for that. Leo had brought them here, an idea that proved brilliant, Evan thought. They’d gotten gear and blown off some steam. And the whole trip had reminded Evan that there was a lot worth fighting for. Teena most of all.

  Evan knew he needed to be more take-charge if he was going to really land a girl like Teena, last four people on Earth or not. As hard as it was to do, the next time Teena’s kneading slowed down, Evan gave her what he hoped was a meaningful look that said “thank you” and stepped into the center of the group. He was still holding a bat in his right hand, and focusing on his hand around the white ash handle made him feel strong and grounded. “Look, I think we should try to take down the Purple Perimeter soon, while we’re all feeling good and before it gets dark.”

  Teena was scowling, and a tiny part of Evan wondered if it was because he’d pulled away before she’d expected him to. He inched a little closer to her again, but she continued to frown. Ugh, girls. He wished he could look her in the eye and say, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” But he did give a damn. He gave a lot of damns.

  Leo came up beside him, clasped him on the shoulder, and nodded. “This has been fun, but Brighton’s right,” he said. “We need to strike while the iron’s hot, or whatever. Evan, what do you think we should do?”

  “Well, we have all this stuff,” he said, gesturing to the rainbow assortment of toys and games in the center of their circle. The girls had stuffed about a dozen shopping bags, and his and Leo’s cart was almost overflowing. “Maybe first we need to sort it into piles of useful versus not-so-useful. And take the useful stuff out of the packages.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Teena said. She smiled at him, and all felt right with the world again. “I’ll start. One pile is fun, one pile is weapons.”

  She set to work, putting things like LEGOs and Barbie dolls into the “fun” pile, while adding squirt guns and the sparring gear to a “weapons” pile. She was cute as she zipped between the carts, really in her element. It was like watching one of the HGTV shows his mom loved, but with a much hotter host.

  Sarabeth tentatively stepped in to help Teena. Evan held his breath and shared a glance with Leo, who seemed to be doing the same. He didn’t get the way girls went from friendly to weird in seconds. It kept happening, like an invisible rubber band snapped and tension mounted between them again. But Teena stepped to the side and let Sarabeth help sort through the merchandise. A sigh of relief floating between them, he and Leo began going through stuff, too. They all worked for a while, a busy vibration in the air. It felt good to have a purpose.

  After a few minutes, they were at the bottom of the guys’ cart and down to the last of the girls’ bags. Sarabeth pulled a Captain America shield from the guys’ cart. She examined it for a few seconds, turning it over in her hands.

  “Fun pile,” Teena directed Sarabeth. “It’s too flimsy.”

  “No way,” Evan said. “It’s badass.”

  Sarabeth paused with the shield over the fun pile.

  “Badass?” Teena asked, with a raised eyebrow. “I never thought I’d hear you swear. I mean, besides hell.”

  “Come on, like you’ve ever thought about me at all,” Evan blurted, trying to memorize Teena’s face as she grinned at him.

  “Fine, weapons pile,” Teena said, avoiding his comment. But was she blushing a little? Sarabeth smirked, put the shield in the pile, and went back to work.

  “Thank you,” Evan said to Teena.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, and it was like he had her all to himself, even more than when she’d been massaging his arm. Leo was going through an assortment of action figures, and Sarabeth had begun unwrapping squirt guns from their plastic-and-cardboard packages just feet from them. But Teena was flirting with him, wasn’t she? And was he successfully flirting back?

  They were standing shoulder to shoulder as Evan opened the girls’ last bag, stuffed with some body glitter meant for girls probably too young for body glitter. He started to dump it into the fun pile.

  “Nuh-uh.” Teena grabbed the bag from him. “That’s weaponized glitter.”

  “Come on, what could that be for?” Evan teased her, trying to yank it away.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Teena said with a sly smile.

  “It dries out your skin,” Sarabeth said as she tested the trigger on a junky pink water gun before tossing it into the trash. “Teena found it. It will be great for fighting the aliens.”

  “Nice,” Leo said, looking up from a particularly aggressive set of twist ties holding a Super Soaker to its cardboard backing. “Death by sparkles.”

  Evan surveyed the weapons pile, satisfied. Leo let out a low whistle. “We’re in good shape.” He clapped his hands together. “Okay, what next, Brighton?”

  Buoyed by the support, Evan continued and picked up a package of water balloons. “Well, we probably need to make some weapons. It might be good to test the weight of these, for maximum explosion potential.”

  As soon as he said it, everyone got the same idea. They ran to the family restroom at the front of the store and turned on four of the six taps. There was still water. They filled several dozen of the water balloons, making some extra-big, some small, and some right in the middle. When the bag of balloons was empty, the sinks were stuffed with candy-colored balloons.

  Teena picked up the first balloon, a small one, and tossed it at Evan from about five feet away. It bounced off him and even stayed intact when it hit the floor.

  “Underfilled,” he said. He grabbed a larger balloon that he knew would burst easily, but before he had a chance to toss it, Teena took it and tossed it into the center of the circle. It burst with a huge splash before it even hit the ground. She ducked into a stall, her laughter echoing through the bathroom.

  “Holy crap!” Leo shouted, his hair dripping. “That’s the ticket.” He grabbed a balloon and hurled it at Sarabeth at the same time she threw one at him.

  Evan launched a medium-sized balloon ove
r the stall wall at Teena, careful not to throw too hard. It went over the wall, and she shrieked as it exploded. Dripping wet, she ran out, took a balloon from the sink, and hurled it at him. For four glorious minutes, they lobbed the water bombs at one another. And then the balloons that had taken almost twenty minutes to fill were gone, their rubbery guts lying in the puddles on the floor. Everyone was soaked and cold, but grinning happily. It was too bad they couldn’t stay at the Toys“R”Us forever, Evan thought.

  “Okay,” Leo said. “So I think we learned that the best size is a handful, something I’ve always stated as fact.” He went to light a cigarette, but the pack was dripping.

  “Perv,” Teena chided Leo. Evan felt a twinge of jealousy but reminded himself that was just how Leo talked. And he was right about the handful thing, Evan thought, looking at Teena’s not-too-big and not-too-small breasts, the outline of each one super apparent beneath the soaking-wet fabric of her hoodie.

  “Is that the best size for you, Evan?” Leo asked. “You’re the one that’s going to be handling them.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Evan said, half startled and realizing he was staring at Teena’s chest.

  Sarabeth must have noticed, but instead of saying anything, she actually helped him. “Okay, let’s get the cologne from the van and get to work. This might take a while.”

  21

  RHAPSODY IN PURPLE

  Teena McAuley, 3:40 P.M. Sunday, Fordham Avenue and 159th Street

  It didn’t happen often, if ever, that Teena had to question why she was riding in the backseat. If she rode there, it was usually—no, always—because she wanted to.

  Not, as just now, because Leo and Sarabeth had climbed into the front seats like an established couple who were just dragging around the friends they’d set up on a date. “You sure your arm feels good?” Teena leaned closer to Evan, making sure to bump the back of Leo’s driver’s seat as she did so, but careful to not disturb the shopping baskets of cologne-filled water balloons they’d worked the past five hours to prepare. “We really need you for this.”