October 5, 1988

25 days remaining

Donnie yawned as he listened to his sister read her school assignment to Joanie James. The bus stop gang glanced at him, noticing the hollow eyes, sallow skin. Hair slightly greasy in the thin morning air. He looked like he hadn't slept in months. Grimacing, rubbing his eyes.

"...And the prince was led into a world of strange and beautiful magic. The end." Sam smiled proudly as Joanie gave her a thumbs up. Donnie snatched it out of her hand, read the title. "'The Last Unicorn, by Samantha Darko'," he recited. Ronald and Sean laughed nervously as Sam jumped at him, screaming. "Donnie, give it back! You're wrinkling it!" He gave it back. It was too nice a day for tears.

Sean looked at his watch, tapped it. "Hey, it's 7:45. The bus shoulda been here like twenty minutes ago."

"Maybe Martha Moo finally went nuts and hijacked the bus."

Sean began to get excited. "You know, there's this rule that we get to go home at 7:55."

"There's no rule!"

"Fuck yeah there is!" Sean insisted. "If the bus doesn't show up in thirty minutes, you're supposed to go straight home." He turned to Donnie for support.

Donnie nodded seriously. "Yeah... He's right. Because if we keep waiting, some guy in a van might pull up and try to molest us. And then our parents could sue the school board."

They looked up and down the empty streets, each with hope in their heart. 7:55. No bus.

"All right! Everybody goes home!" Sean and Ronald jumped around the bus stop pole, howling.

The company started off in various directions, Samantha reluctantly stashing her homework in her backpack. Donnie looked back to the bus stop. Cherita Chen stood there, not moving. "Hey, Cherita! You should go home," he called.

"Yeah, if you're still here and the bus comes, we'll get in trouble," Ronald added.

"Chut up."

Sean sneered mercilessly. "Hey, porky pig. I hope you get molested!"

The sound of sneakers on pavement approached, and they all looked around curiously. Two Ridge girls ran towards them, cheeks flushed.

"Hey, you guys, guess what?" one said breathlessly. "My Mom said the school is closed today because it's flooded."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

Ronald was exuberant. "Holy shit! That's the best news I've ever heard!"

"Know what else?" the girl said, eyes shining. "Someone took an axe to The Mutt's head! It was buried four inches in, I swear!"

"But that statue's solid bronze..."

"I know. Totally weird." The girl's voice lowered to a whisper. "And then whoever did it spray-painted 'THEY MADE ME DO IT' in big letters all over the grounds. The police wouldn't let us get closer than that, though."

Sean was impressed. "Woah, the guy's probably some kind of psycho!"

"How do you know it's a guy?
"Yeah, maybe it was Cherita! Hey Cherita, did you tag the school?"

"Chut up!"

Donnie lowered his eyes.

Gretchen felt them circle her, prowling. She clutched her books to her chest. Tried to block them out. One of them touched her hair and she flinched.

"Hey. Has anyone ever told you that you're sexy?" one of them said softly. Vicious grin. He had rapist's teeth, junkie's eyes.

"I like your boobs."

The two guffawed. Their jeans hid knives.

She was about to respond haughtily, throat constricted. A new voice interrupted them.

"Hey. School was cancelled."

The three looked up and saw another kid standing there. Dark hair, darker eyes. The guy from English class. He was staring back and forth between them, with a kind of a frown on his face like he wasn't sure what was going on. One of her tormentors let go of her backpack strap. "Hey," she replied, surprised at how steady her voice was. "You wanna walk me home?"

The frown on his face turned into something else; she wasn't sure what it was, but relief washed through her when he said "Sure," and came towards them. Careful steps all the way. They walked out of danger together, feeling blades at their necks, boots in the side.

When they were at a safe distance away, Gretchen turned to her rescuer. "Don't look so freaked," she told him. He stared forward, slightly hunched over, hands in pockets. Tensed.

"I'm not," he said finally. "But you should check your backpack. Those guys love to steal shit."

"Yeah." She swivelled and flipped the bird back down the path. Praying they wouldn't come after them again. This kid at her side didn't look like he'd be much in a fight.

The lawns in this neighbourhood were still golf-course green, even though it was October. The sounds of sprinklers and garden hoses smattered the still air. Rows of houses divided the grass and blue sky. It had been pretty good weather so far.

They walked for almost a block until Donnie decided to get conversational. "So... Why'd you move here?"

Gretchen told him about her parents' divorce and her father's emotional instability.

Donnie perked up. "Oh, I have those too! What kind of emotional problems does your Dad have?"

"He stabbed my Mom four times in the chest."

She felt him falling into an awkward silence. "Oh."

A few minutes later. "...Did he go to jail?"

"No, he fled. They still can't find him. But my Mom and I had to change our names." She smiled, to let him know it was all right, that she could talk about shit like this. "And I thought 'Gretchen Ross' was really cool."

Donnie mused, then said brightly, "I was in jail once."

Gretchen looked at him. He backtracked, adding, "I mean I accidentally burned down this house. It was abandoned, but I got held back in school and I can't drive until I'm 21. But I'm over all of that. I... I..."

A pause. He jumped back in as if suddenly remembering. "I... I'm painting and stuff. Writing. I want to be a writer, or maybe a painter, I don't know, or maybe both. I'll write a book and draw the pictures. Then maybe people will understand me." He trailed off. "...Change things..."

She listened, fascinated. The words had come out in a jumble, like he was trying to say it all at once. He'd looked more animated all of a sudden. She knew that feeling.

They kept walking, the silence between them no longer strange. The sun seemed a little warmer. Gretchen waited for a moment, then said with amusement, "Donnie Darko? What the hell kind of name is that? It sounds like some kind of superhero or something."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

Gretchen didn't know what to say to that.

"...Look, I'm really glad the school was flooded today," Donnie said after a while, grinning shyly. He was kind of cute when he smiled, though his eyes didn't light up much. They stopped walking.

"Why is that?"

"Because you and I would have never had this conversation."

He looked dismayed when she didn't smile back. "You're weird," she said. Frowning a little, staring him in the face. Trying to figure him from the outside in. He ducked his head, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No, that was a compliment."

"Oh. Well..." He was about to say something else. She waited for him, patiently. A little girl down the sidewalk was skipping rope on her driveway. Vip. Vip. Vip.

"Look, er... You wanna go with me?" he said abruptly, almost apologetic.

"Where do you want to go?"

"No, I mean like 'go' with me," he insisted. Struggling to explain. "It's what we call it here. 'Going together'."

Finally she got it. Smiled. "Sure." Began to move off.

"Okay, I- Hey! Where are you going?"

"I'm going home!" Gretchen called back from the middle of the street. She turned away, heard him muttering to himself. "So... stupid... I'm... so..." Thinking he'd blown it.

She laughed to herself. She liked him.

"I'd like to try something new this time. Have you ever been hypnotized?"

"No."

Knocked out on the couch. Eyes closed, breathing normal.

"… and when I clap my hands twice, you will wake up. Do you understand?"

Mumbled. "Yes."

"So, tell me about your week."

"I met a girl."

"What is her name?"

"Gretchen." A faint smile. Proud. "We're going together now."

"Do you still think about girls a lot?"

"Yeah."

"How are things going at school?"

Wider grin. Eyelids fluttering. "I think about girls a lot."

"I asked you about school, Donnie."

"I think about fucking a lot during school."

"What else do you think about during school?"

A pause. Then, "I think about... 'Married with Children.'"

"Do you think about your family?"

"I just turn down the volume and think about fucking Christina Applegate."

"I asked you about your family, Donnie."

Hands reaching down, unzipping jeans. "No, I don't think about fucking my family. That's gross." Laughter. Teeth showing. Breathing deep, steady.

"I'd like to hear about your friend, Frank."

No response.

"Donnie?"

Unzipped. Shifting on the couch. Hands reaching through his fly into...

Clap clap.

Eyes fly open. Cheeks burn. Session over.