Afterschool Special

Tom was waiting for Nick on the cement partition next to the stairs leading down out of the school. To Nick, he looked a little green around the gills, like he had eaten bad chicken or something.

“How are you feeling?” Nick asked. “Because you look like crap.”

“I don’t know, kind of woozy, you know, not dizzy, just weird I guess. You?” Tom replied, getting up.

“Off,” he answered with a shrug. He was feeling out of sorts, unable to really find the words to describe how he felt other than not normal.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as they descended the stairs, “I know what you mean.”

Nick nodded, holding out his right forearm and pointing at the prominent veins just beneath the surface of the skin there, “Look how dark they are,” he said, shaking his head, “that doesn’t look right does it?” he asked.

Tom reached out and touched Nick’s arm, “That is most definitely strange,” he said, pulling up his own sleeve and looking at his forearm. Not quite as vascular as Nick, they could still see the underlying veins, normally blue, also looking substantially darker.

Nick scowled.

“What do you think it is? That stuff we breathed in in chemistry maybe? We both got a pretty healthy snoot full of whatever that was that Hester was brewing,” Tom offered.

Nick shrugged, “Don’t know, Scott got it too and he looked okay in history class,” he replied. “That makes five for five classes so far that he and I share, it’s as if the scholastic gods have blessed me.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” Tom joked.

Nick snorted, “Been on a roll lately,” he quipped.

“I’m sweating like crazy,” Tom said, perspiration staining his clothes and beading on his forehead.

“Me too,” said Nick, swiping a hand across his face and shaking it.

“Maybe we got more than Scott and are poisoned or something?” Tom offered.

Nick shook his head, “I don’t think they let stuff like that into public schools,” he replied as they walked.

“I guess, that does make a lot of sense,” Tom replied, nodding, “what with Homeland Security and all.”

“Right? Like they would give a bunch of high school kids anthrax or something to play with?” he scoffed, half smile on his face.

Tom laughed. “Yeah,” he agreed, nodding.

Nick got a case of the chills, his teeth starting to chatter, despite the mid-seventies temperature outside.

Noticing Nick’s condition, “You alright?” Tom asked, expression concerned.

Nick nodded, “Probably just inundating my lungs with the proper level of pollution in an attempt to acclimatize to the environment,” he said with a half grin as he tried to keep from chattering.

Tom started laughing but broke into a wracking cough, flecks of black material speckling the hand he used to cover his mouth, “Oh, that can’t be good,” he stated, showing Nick his hand before wiping it off on his pants.

“I think it might be the black lung,” Nick teased, the shivers gone as quickly as they had manifested.

“Tastes like, I don’t know, like something bitter, I can’t place it,” Tom replied.

“Yummy,” Nick answered. He had had that lingering taste in his mouth ever since the mishap in chemistry. Had they been poisoned? What was it Hester had said she was trying to extract, something or other, he couldn’t rightly remember. Whatever it was, it definitely was outside the normal curriculum for public school chemistry.

“You got any plans for the weekend,” Tom inquired.

“My Dad and Asha’s mom said they are going to take me out to do some shopping so I can get a few things to personalize my room,” Nick replied, hawking up a chunk of phlegm and spitting into the dirt off of the side, the mucous filled with tendrils of black. Same taste as before.

“Cool,” Tom replied, nodding, “you have to push for a TV and game system. Just saying.”

Nick shrugged as they approached his new home.

“You mind if I come in a moment, you know, sit down catch my breath, maybe a glass of water or something?” Tom asked. “I don’t know how to qualify it, but I am feeling pretty gnarly,” he added.

“Sure,” Nick said, walking up the cement steps and leading the other boy into the house and down the stairs to his room.

“This is a pretty big room, you can do a lot to it,” Tom commented, stepping into the room and doing a visual sweep of the space.

Nick nodded.

Tom let out a long breath, “Wow, I feel putrid,” he mumbled, slumping into the chair at Nick’s computer desk, sweat now streaming down his brow. Bringing a hand up, he passed it over his sodden forehead and wiped it on the thigh of his jeans.

Nick shook his head, he wasn’t feeling any better. Everything sounded tinny and far away, his vision seemed to blur then clear. His fingers felt strange.

“Sorry if I sweat on any of your stuff,” Tom apologized, looking around himself and making a face.

Nick waved it off, “No worries,” he said.

Tom’s head lolled back and to the side, eyes closed and jaw hanging slack.

Seeing the jello necked head bob, “Tom? Tom?” Nick asked, moving close and putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder, giving it a shake. Tom didn’t respond.

“Tom!” Nick repeated, gripping both shoulders and trying to rouse the other boy. Nothing. Lifting Tom’s left eyelid with his thumb, all he could see was the white, small blood vessel appearing black.

“What the heck?” Nick muttered, shaking his head and letting go off Tom’s eyelid. Standing upright, a queasy wave passed over him. Lifting his hands in front of his face, they seemed to phase in and out of focus. What is happening to me? He glanced back at Tom and it was the weirdest thing, he appeared out of place on the chair, like it was too big for him, or that he had gotten smaller. Staggering backward a couple of paces, he turned and reached out toward the bed to steady himself. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he saw spots before his eyes, then consciousness fled him.