Free Nice Day to Die by Cameron Jace Page B
Authors: Cameron Jace
reason. Believe me. I have known him for about two hours, and it feels like we have known each other since middle school.
My heart sinks into my feet. He is going to explode, and I will have no time to survive because I am too near. I will blow up with him. The girls in the Jeep grab for the edges, ready to jump.
But what will they do then? Run on foot like those other fools?
The Hoverboardz gang starts slowing down. It is obvious that Leo is all muscle and no brains.
“Well, you leave me no choice, mysterious hero.” Timmy is reaching for something, a button, most probably the one that will blow up Leo.
I grab Leo’s iAm and shout in it. “I am alive.”
This should work. We are treated as numbers, and we have no real identity so his iAm is more important than he is. What difference does it make who says it?
“That’s cheating, you little Monster.” Timmy is looking at the screen as if he is looking straight at me. He says the word Monster slowly and with pleasure. He knows who I am. He hates me. He would certainly enjoy blowing up Leo, a Nine. Timmy, the envious Trickster. What’s the difference between a Trickster and a so-called Monster?
“It doesn’t matter who says it,” a girl screams at Timmy from our Jeep. I look at the timer. We have wasted a minute with this conversation, and only Leo knows the rest of the plan. We need him.
Leo, you fool. You can’t die before I know what your story is.
“Sorry, Monsterina,” says Timmy, wearing a sad mask with plastic tears on it. “Goodbyeee.”
I have to do something, and I do. The craziest trick I would ever have imagined myself pulling. I don’t know if it will work, but I am counting on the viewers this time, not the Trickster.
I hold Leo’s face with both hands and kiss him on the mouth, not taking my lips off his.
Leo doesn’t do anything back with his sealed lips. Only managing to drive fifty miles per hour while we are about to die in sixty seconds.
“He is busy,” I claim in the iAm. “Can’t you see? He is my boyfriend,” I lie, and I get back to Leo’s lips. This boy is mine! “And if we’ll die, we will die together.” I know no one will believe that he is my boyfriend, but I can try. A Nine and a Seven? That never happened.
The viewers go crazy. They shout at Timmy not to push the button. “He is the hero,” some say. “You’re killing the game too fast,” others protest. “This is so romantic,” the girls say. Some girls actually scream Leo’s name from the Zeppelins outside the battlefields, wearing their ClairVos.
I don’t know if this is exactly what I have expected, or did I just want to kiss someone beautiful like Leo before I die?
Timmy clears his throat in the microphone, feeling a little overruled by the audience.
“Sweet little Romeo — I mean Leo and Monsteriet,” says Timmy, making a silly face with two black teardrops falling off his makeup. “May I pronounce you as Monster and wife — ah — I mean, the audience has voted for you, which rarely counts in the games. But why not, we are only in the beginning, and you will die either way.”
The audience celebrates the verdict. They even scream my name after Leo. They call me Pixie.
Audience tic. Audience tac. Audience toe.
I am not Pixie. I am Decca, goddammit! Decca Tenderstone.
I pull my lips away from Leo’s, which I secretly enjoyed, and his eyes look hypnotized. This strong boy, hypnotized by me? I am only wishing. “See,” I say to Leo. “You’re not the only one famous here.”
The boys and girls in the Jeep let out a sigh. Down here, this is no lovey-dovey moment. Everyone knows it is a silly trick.
One minute left to termination.
I give Leo a slight slap on his face. “You better have a plan now.”
He gives me that angry look again. It’s like: How dare you kiss me while I am trying to save the world, driving fifty miles per hour with one hand on the wheel?
“I am afraid the love puppets and their friends have one minute
My heart sinks into my feet. He is going to explode, and I will have no time to survive because I am too near. I will blow up with him. The girls in the Jeep grab for the edges, ready to jump.
But what will they do then? Run on foot like those other fools?
The Hoverboardz gang starts slowing down. It is obvious that Leo is all muscle and no brains.
“Well, you leave me no choice, mysterious hero.” Timmy is reaching for something, a button, most probably the one that will blow up Leo.
I grab Leo’s iAm and shout in it. “I am alive.”
This should work. We are treated as numbers, and we have no real identity so his iAm is more important than he is. What difference does it make who says it?
“That’s cheating, you little Monster.” Timmy is looking at the screen as if he is looking straight at me. He says the word Monster slowly and with pleasure. He knows who I am. He hates me. He would certainly enjoy blowing up Leo, a Nine. Timmy, the envious Trickster. What’s the difference between a Trickster and a so-called Monster?
“It doesn’t matter who says it,” a girl screams at Timmy from our Jeep. I look at the timer. We have wasted a minute with this conversation, and only Leo knows the rest of the plan. We need him.
Leo, you fool. You can’t die before I know what your story is.
“Sorry, Monsterina,” says Timmy, wearing a sad mask with plastic tears on it. “Goodbyeee.”
I have to do something, and I do. The craziest trick I would ever have imagined myself pulling. I don’t know if it will work, but I am counting on the viewers this time, not the Trickster.
I hold Leo’s face with both hands and kiss him on the mouth, not taking my lips off his.
Leo doesn’t do anything back with his sealed lips. Only managing to drive fifty miles per hour while we are about to die in sixty seconds.
“He is busy,” I claim in the iAm. “Can’t you see? He is my boyfriend,” I lie, and I get back to Leo’s lips. This boy is mine! “And if we’ll die, we will die together.” I know no one will believe that he is my boyfriend, but I can try. A Nine and a Seven? That never happened.
The viewers go crazy. They shout at Timmy not to push the button. “He is the hero,” some say. “You’re killing the game too fast,” others protest. “This is so romantic,” the girls say. Some girls actually scream Leo’s name from the Zeppelins outside the battlefields, wearing their ClairVos.
I don’t know if this is exactly what I have expected, or did I just want to kiss someone beautiful like Leo before I die?
Timmy clears his throat in the microphone, feeling a little overruled by the audience.
“Sweet little Romeo — I mean Leo and Monsteriet,” says Timmy, making a silly face with two black teardrops falling off his makeup. “May I pronounce you as Monster and wife — ah — I mean, the audience has voted for you, which rarely counts in the games. But why not, we are only in the beginning, and you will die either way.”
The audience celebrates the verdict. They even scream my name after Leo. They call me Pixie.
Audience tic. Audience tac. Audience toe.
I am not Pixie. I am Decca, goddammit! Decca Tenderstone.
I pull my lips away from Leo’s, which I secretly enjoyed, and his eyes look hypnotized. This strong boy, hypnotized by me? I am only wishing. “See,” I say to Leo. “You’re not the only one famous here.”
The boys and girls in the Jeep let out a sigh. Down here, this is no lovey-dovey moment. Everyone knows it is a silly trick.
One minute left to termination.
I give Leo a slight slap on his face. “You better have a plan now.”
He gives me that angry look again. It’s like: How dare you kiss me while I am trying to save the world, driving fifty miles per hour with one hand on the wheel?
“I am afraid the love puppets and their friends have one minute