Free The Brink by Austin Bunn Page A

clean over the campus, perched on the coast like it is. I parked in the lot at the student center + paid the parking meter, even though soon there will be galaxies between us + our parking tickets. Inside the center, I was surprised at how young the other containers were, younger than us even, coral-pink + bronze, like they’d been buffed + waxed + stored in a garage every night. I guess I’ve gotten used to being surrounded by later models, like Old Margaret + Darwin + Bo. The students stared at us in our black turtlenecks. This made you anxious so I stared back at them until their eye machines looked elsewhere. I wanted to shout, Don’t you know what’s happening? This planet is about to get recycled!!!!!!! But I didn’t. It would take way too long to explain. Besides, we didn’t bring the overhead projector.
    Instead, I took out Bo’s flyer + pinned it to a bulletin board that was quilted with countless notices of human irrelevancy. “THIS IS OUR FINAL OFFER,” the flyer read, in Bo’s handwriting. “Civilization is about to be Spaced Under. UFOs will take us to the next level. Join us!”
    You looked at all the flyers on the board + I asked what you were thinking + you said “nothing” + I said if you were having thoughts you needed to tell me, that that’s what it meant to have a check partner.
    â€œThey have ballroom dancing on Thursday nights,” you said.
    Leah, you are so next level!
    I remember how we found you street-side in Salt Lake City, with your retriever Rocket + your blond hair caked into rope. (It looks so much better short!) You were a seeker, your backpack crammed with books from every religion. You skimmed the I Ching + cast coins right there on the sidewalk, onto the front of your skirt. It took me an hour to build up the velocity to enter your atmosphere. Your facepart was so smooth + new. A hoop pierced your eyebrow. The two tiny bites into the skin looked maybe infected but still adorable.
    I handed you our card.
    Do you want to know what happens next? Come to a Total Overcomers Anonymous Meeting.
    You cleaned a fingernail with the corner. “What happens next is you buy me lunch,” you said + I took you to burgers. You left Rocket outside, tied to a banister with twine. You tried not to show your hunger, but your arm ringed the plate the way a gorilla would if a gorilla ate off a plate. I fell so hard for you, my knee bouncing under the table, even though I knew that was wrong + emotions add weight to our containers. You wouldn’ttell me about your life but now I know all about your life. Your Mormon family, your brother who went AWOL on his mission trip in Brazil + your mother who had an affair + how everything splintered from there. I couldn’t wait to rescue you, to give you shelter + true family. I know it was awful when Bo made you leave Rocket behind but that was a necessary shedding. Don’t tell me feelings are hard to give up! The most difficult thing I’ve ever done was lie with you on that mattress + not touch because Bo wanted us to “learn to be neutral.” While we lay there, every religion moved through me. If these letters can prove anything to you it’s that I’ve never been neutral.
    At the student center, a male vessel got up from the entrance desk + approached us. “Excuse me,” he said. “Are you students? Because you need to be a student here to post flyers.” His vessel featured a brown ponytail + flip-flops + a T-shirt that said “Alpha Chi or Die,” which made me think that maybe he knew something we didn’t. A can of soda rose to his mouthpart.
    â€œThis is very important for students to know,” I explained.
    â€œWell, there are rules and I’m the rule guy,” he said. “Can I see some ID?”
    â€œDon’t you want to hear about the Final Offer?” I said.
    â€œThis UFO caca ?” he said + ripped down the flyer +