Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(18)

“Early acceptance,” was all he said.

“Which one?” Jessica said.

“Cornell.”

“Wait, how did you already apply to college?” Charlie said. “That’s not till next year. I don’t even know where I want to go.”

“He skipped sixth grade,” John said. There was a brief flicker of something across his face, and Charlie knew what it was. John liked being the clever one, the precocious one. Lamar had been kind of a goof-off when they were kids, and now he had leapt ahead. John forced a grin, and the moment passed. “Congratulations,” he said, with no hint that it was not entirely sincere.

Marla came bursting in again, this time towing Jason behind her, holding on to his upper arm. At the hotel she had made him change as well, into a blazer and khakis, though he was still wearing his Nikes.

“I’m coming, stop it,” he whined.

“Is that Jason?” Carlton said.

“Yeah,” Jason said.

“Do you remember me?” Carlton said.

“I don’t remember any of you,” Jason said unapologetically.

“Sit there,” Marla said, pointing to the next booth over.

“Okay,” he grumbled.

“Marla, he can sit with us,” Jessica said. “Jason, come on over.”

“I want to sit here,” he said, and sat down behind them. He pulled a video game out of his pocket, and was oblivious to the world.

The waitress came over and they ordered; Marla told her to put Jason’s breakfast on their check. When their food came, Charlie checked her watch.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

“We’ll get there,” Carlton said. “It’s not far.” A small piece of food fell out of his mouth as he gestured down the road.

“Have you been back to the school?” Lamar said, and Carlton shrugged.

“I pass it sometimes. I know this is a nostalgia trip for all of you, but I just live here. I don’t exactly go around reminiscing about kindergarten all the time.”

They were all quiet for a second, the beeps and pings of Jason’s video game filling the silence.

“Hey, did you know Lamar’s going to Cornell next year?” Jessica said to Marla.

“Really? Well, aren’t you ahead of the pack,” she said. He looked down at his plate. When he looked up he was a little flushed.

“All part of the five-year plan,” he said. They laughed, and his blush deepened. “It’s kind of weird to be back here,” he said, hastily changing the subject.

“I think it’s strange that I’m the only one who still lives here,” Carlton said. “Nobody ever leaves Hurricane.”

“Is it strange, though?” Jessica said thoughtfully. “My parents—you remember, my mom’s from New York originally, she used to joke about going back. When I go back to New York, but it might as well have been, when I win the lottery, she didn’t mean it. And then right after Michael’s… right after, she stopped joking about it, then three months later we were all on a plane to visit her sister in Queens, and we never came back. My dad’s father died when I was nine, and they came back to Hurricane for the funeral without me. They didn’t want me coming back here, and honestly I didn’t want to go. I was kind of anxious the whole time they were gone. I kept looking out the window, hoping they would come back early, like something bad was going to happen to them if they stayed.”

They looked at each other, considering. Charlie knew they had all moved, all but Carlton, but she had never thought about it—people moved all the time. Carlton was right, though. People didn’t leave Hurricane.

“We moved because my dad got a new job, the summer after third grade,” John said. “That’s not exactly mysterious. Lamar, you left in the middle of the semester that year.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But that’s because when my parents split, I went with my mom to Indianapolis.” He frowned. “But my dad moved, too, he’s in Chicago, now.”

“My parents left because of Michael,” Marla said. They all turned to her. “Afterward, my mom couldn’t sleep. She said spirits were stirring in the town, unquiet. My dad told her she was being ridiculous, but we still left as fast as we could.” Marla looked around at her friends. “What?” She said defensively. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I do,” Charlie said. She felt like she was talking from a great distance, was almost surprised they could hear her. “I mean, not ghosts, but… memories. I think they linger, whether there’s someone there or not.” The house, her old house, was imbued with memory, with loss, with longing. It hung in the air like humidity; the walls were saturated, like the wood had soaked in it. It had been there before she came, it was there now, it would be there forever. It had to be. There was too much, too great and vast a weight, for Charlie to have brought it with her.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jessica said. “Memory is in our brains. Like, literally stored in the brain, you can see it on a scan. It can’t exist outside of someone’s mind.”

“I don’t know,” John said. “Think of all the places that have… atmosphere. Old houses, sometimes, places where you walk in and you feel sad, or nostalgic, even though you’ve never been there before.”