Author's note: The song Lori refers to is 'Deep red bells' by Neko Case.

Chapter 3: Games in the dark

At night, Lori dangled in front of him like a loose thread begging to be burned before someone else could pull. All it would take was one mistake of her: game over.

At night, Eric watched his life unravel.

If she had been anyone else, he would have killed her by now. If he could approach the issue practically, she would be dead. But, no, sensibility was impossible. It went against whatever he might be feeling.

Well, emotions were bullshit anyway. They got in the way. He stared at the ceiling, casting off the sheets, trying to make sense of it all. He didn't want to hurt Lori; that was the problem. Eric didn't understand this weakness. It was like an illness.

If he could kill this feeling – this softness - he would.

Eric turned, looked at the light seeping in from under the door. This couldn't go on. That much was clear. He had to do something.

(***)

It had been several weeks since he had last spoken to Lori. She hadn't contacted him either. Eric couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not. There were two sides to everything now. Formerly, the smart thing to do had always felt right. Now there was smart and right. Smart meant not driving up to see Lori. Right meant the exact opposite. Lori was like an itch he needed to scratch.

Crouching in the car, he sat outside Lori's house for hours. Like a common stalker. It was unnerving and humiliating. Look at what you make me do, Eric thought. He replayed their meeting in his mind. He'd felt so annoyed at the time. Plain irritated. There he was, on his way to killing whatever the hell her name was and out of the blue his solitary journey had turned into a road trip. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by Lori, who appeared out of nowhere and tapped the car window. Eric rolled it down.

'Hi! Give me a lift?'

Immediately, he was overcome with a feeling of dread. Put off by the exaggerated cheer in her voice. The bounce in her step. Ruled by impulses – because that wasn't dangerous at all! – Eric opened the door on the passenger's side. She slipped inside, like she belonged there. A hint of vanilla wafted in with her.

Somehow, the fact that she didn't question his presence seemed natural.

'I'll tell you where to go, alright?' she said, while securing her seatbelt. Quickly, Eric darted a glance at her. She was wearing a bright yellow summer dress. Freckles dotted her bare shoulders. The translucent quality of her skin had been replaced by a slight tan, except where the straps of her dress didn't line up. He had to make a conscious effort to focus on the more mundane task of putting the car into gear and checking the mirrors before pulling out.

Lori made no attempt to start a conversation or even to turn on the radio. She spoke only to give directions.

When she pointed out where to park, Eric allowed the car to roll to a stop. They were at the edge of a parking lot next to a bar. Lori got out of the car, dress twirling around her legs, knees scabby, red; unattractive.

'Come on!' Lori urged. Her exuberance was taxing. She tempered her skip before breaking into a full-on sprint. About to enter the bar, she paused and looked over her shoulder, waiting to see if he would come. Reluctantly, Eric went after her. They probably weren't allowed. She was seated at a table already with her back to the door. There was no one approaching their age around. Everyone in here is at least forty, Eric estimated. He took the chair opposite from Lori. She leaned her chin on her hands and smiled mischievously

'Beer? Buy me one?'

The request was clearly a dare. Childish, Eric thought. Really, what was he even doing there? The effect that Lori had on him, disturbing as it may be, didn't mean that he had to do everything she asked.

Sensing his hesitation, Lori bragged that she could get someone else to buy her a drink. Eric looked around again. He could pick out half a dozen guys who'd be willing to pay for Lori's drinks and do God knows what to her. Turning back to look at Lori, he saw that she knew it too.

Eric ordered a coke and a beer. The bartender didn't card him.

'You shouldn't drink,' Eric pointed out, unable to keep the disapproval out of his voice. Then again, why shouldn't she drink? Control was not something Lori wanted anyway. She took a sip straight from the bottle. Afterward, she grimaced and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It was a ridiculous gesture of rebellion.

'Tastes like being poor and small,' Lori observed dryly. 'Bet you've never felt like that, huh?'

Not quite knowing how to answer, Eric kept quiet. Lori leaned in, conspiratorial.

'It's a line from a song. 'Tastes like being poor and small,' I mean. You probably don't know it. The song's about the Green River Killer. It's got a nice creepy vibe.'

Because he still didn't know what to say, he simply nodded. Lori kept babbling. Just then, surrounded by other girls, one of them walked in. His type. Glossy hair the colour of rich caramel. Almond-shaped eyes. A white dress that offset her olive skin. Slim legs. Uneasily, Eric shifted in his chair. When he looked at Lori, she seemed amused.

'Hmmm?' Eric muttered, suspecting that he had missed something.

'How's your aunt?' Lori asked, obviously repeating herself. He was surprised for a split second that Lori knew, but he quickly adjusted. Of course Lori knew: in all likelihood she had a scrapbook with his name on it. Eric followed the other girl with his eyes. She shyly glanced at him. He tensed and averted his gaze.

'She... wants me to apply myself academically,' he finally said. While in the midst of teasing the label off her bottle with a nail, Lori looked up and cracked a smile. Eric remembered his own drink and took a sip.

He idly wondered whether Lori was supposed to be out, though it was relatively early. He was feeling oddly protective for some reason. It wasn't Lori's recklessness that prompted it. The only thing Eric could think of to justify it was that no one else seemed willing to fill the position. No one else wanted the job of taking care of Lori. The job should have been her mother's and she certainly cared. Not enough, though.

'Where does your mother think you are?'

'Sleeping over at a friend's place. I left a note. I told you, nothing changes.'

When she went to the restroom, Eric got them new drinks. No alcohol for Lori this time.

'Gary left, by the way,' she announced when she came back. He shrugged and made no comment. Struggling to come up with a topic, Eric dug up one of their shared memories.

'What happened to your glasses?'

'I got contacts,' Lori explained. She smiled nearly constantly now. It didn't piss him off like he would have expected. On the contrary, he found it weirdly appealing. It was the sort of weird Eric was slowly getting used to. His mouth curved into a smile of its own accord.

They settled into a silence that wasn't altogether unpleasant. It didn't appear to bother Lori either. She seemed comfortable: (there was that word again) different. Her dress had wrinkled during the ride over, but she made no attempt to smooth out the fabric.

Transfixed, Eric tried to pinpoint what exactly was different. She had projected 'Lori, the victim' in front of her like a self-fulfilling prophesy. That was gone. She was more woman than girl now. While studying her, he completely forgot about the looming temptation. Lori addressed him.

'You'll take me home tonight. We both know that.'

She sounded so sure.

(***)

Evening was well underway. Streetlights flickered to life in the dusk. On the seat next to him, Lori was nearly bursting with excitement. She was unable to hide it underneath a calm exterior. She fidgeted with the dial of the radio, until he told her to stop. That chastised her for about a minute. Nothing could contain her. She was vibrating with energy.

'I have to pee,' Lori said.

'We're minutes away,' Eric protested. He couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice.

'I really have to pee,' she insisted. Seeing her squirm on her seat, he realised that he had no choice but to pull over. The blur of her dress disappeared into the night. Eric left the door open to dispel some of the heat. He listened to the hum of crickets and the unacknowledged chirping of a chickadee. The sweet song of the chickadee his father had called it. Eric hadn't understood why then and he didn't now. It was just the call of a bird.

Impatiently, he was contemplating turning on the radio when he heard a splash. He was out of the car immediately and tearing through the underbrush.

'Lori?'

Further away from the road, the vegetation was higher and thicker. Branches lashed against his face. He thought he spotted a dash of yellow and moved towards it. Stumbling down the slope, he called out again.

'Lori!'

Her dress was abandoned on the river bank on top of her shoes, but he couldn't see Lori. The water lapping at his feet was murky. So dark brown that it was almost black. Then, suddenly, there she was.

'Lori, no!'

He ran into the water, grabbed her arm and hauled her out.

'Relax. I took swimming lessons,' she laughed. Eric twisted her arm.

'You're hurting me,' she said, innocently. Her hair was dripping. In that moment he could have killed her, he was that angry. Instead, he kissed her.

It reminded him of all the reasons he didn't do this. She kissed him back. Her lips moved underneath his. Her mouth was warm. Her tongue came up to meet his. Her body reacted to his touch. It was rough and messy. Thoughts raced through his mind.

Maybe it's like Gary. Maybe she doesn't want it and is kind of letting it happen 'cause what else is she gonna do? She's Lori and the world keeps fucking her over, so the best thing to do is lie back and take it. The world wins anyway. Don't struggle. Don't hope for something better.

The idea that she might not want it was overwhelming. He tried to ignore it, but it proved too much. It was important that she wanted it too. Like, he cared. Like, he wanted her to want it or he didn't want it either.

Confused, he pulled away. Lori stared at him with those big dumb eyes of hers. Eyes that were beautiful, really, when he stopped to think about it. That was probably why he had never stopped to think about it before. So, Lori had pretty eyes. Who gave a shit?

He felt sorta sick. Raw after this onslaught of emotion. Lori put her dress back on and they trudged back to the car. Eric ridiculed himself for ever thinking that she had matured. She was behaving like a petulant child. He longed to turn around and bring her back, but they were too close to home now.

(***)

'We have to be quiet,' Eric warned. Lori nodded; eager to get inside. She followed him upstairs. He switched on the light in his room and closed the door behind her. Lori drank in everything. Like absorbed it through her pores. The wallpaper, the bed sheets, the colour of the fucking curtains.

Her skin had regained its familiar pearly colour. The dampness of her dress caused it to hug her body tightly, outlining her underwear.

'You should take a shower,' Eric said. Hopefully the sound of the shower wouldn't wake his aunt up. Lori spun around. He handed her the brand new bathrobe his aunt had bought for him and told her where the bathroom was. She thanked him quietly, swaying on her feet. Her hair clung to her scalp.

'It smells like lake.'

Eric had thought it was a stupid comment, like most of the things Lori usually said. But that was how Lori smelled now. Like a great expanse of water, except not salty. Like rain and that not-quite-cleanliness that you get from swimming in anything except pool water.

He sat down on the bed, caught his reflection in the mirror. A dark smudge just above his ear attracted his attention. He probed the spot and inspected his hand. Blood. Weary, he tried to think of when he might have injured himself, but he couldn't come up with anything. He got up from the bed and retrieved a handkerchief.

Eric pressed it against the spot until no new blood showed up on the cloth. Lying back, he closed his eyes. He was startled awake when Lori shook his shoulder.

'I'm on the pill,' she revealed. Eric managed not to roll his eyes, but, Jesus, what a thing to say! So what? he wanted to yell; it's not like we're going have sex. Lori seemed to think otherwise. She tugged at his shirt, shoving him down on the bed.

Maybe he recognised that the feeling wasn't going to go away and he was tired of fighting it. Maybe he wouldn't mind exploring it. No sooner did the idea come into his mind than he pushed it right out. Simultaneously, he gently pushed Lori off. Undeterred, she undid the robe and straddled him. To his relief, the sight left him unaffected. He turned his head away, embarrassed for Lori's sake.

'What if I lie very still?' she asked. Her tone was half-mocking, half-serious. She rolled off of him. Eric frowned and looked at her. Lying on her left side, her back was to him.

Slowly, her breathing grew shallow until it was inaudible. In her sleep Lori looked more vulnerable and fragile than ever. He reached out to touch her, tracing an invisible line from her knee to her shoulder. Lori sighed and curled up.

Eric thought about killing her then, but not like he had thought of killing her before. Not like he wanted to and not like he needed to either. Just sort of trying it out for size and deciding that, nah, he didn't think so. Not tonight. Not Lori.