Look, my needy, high maintenance friend is here," Zac quipped.
“Yes he is,” Ben said, sliding onto the cafeteria bench across from him, folding his arms on the tabletop, and then leaning in close like he was a fortune teller about to reveal the mysteries of the universe. “And he requires you full and undivided attention.”
Taking this as a cue, Zac bit into a slice of pizza and with his mouth gaping so bits of wet crust dropped onto the tabletop, replied, “On the best of days Benjamin, you get about seventy-five percent of my attention.”
“Zac, this is kinda serious.”
This uncharacteristic dourness did not stop Zac’s superlative impression of a bovine at its trough. After all, it was hard to take Ben seriously even when he insisted he be taken seriously. Ben was a performer who could extract drama from the most mundane of events and, over the years of their long friendship, this had become so commonplace it was easy for Zac to dismiss it.
Ignoring his friend's reaction, Ben lowered his voice and growled, “Dude, your freaky stalker is still stalking you.”
Instinctively, Zac looked around the school lunch room, expecting to find the dark and shaggy-haired specter of John Gervais staring back at him from the crowd.
“No, not right now,” Ben clarified. “I mean at your house. He’s been parking his car by the side of the road and then climbing the trees, as inconceivable as that seems.”
This news was not particularly surprising. In a way he wasn’t able to explain even to himself, Zac was even pleased by it. His lack of outrage must’ve shown on his face because Ben immediately pressed on. “We confronted him. He didn’t deny it.”
“Who’s ‘we?’” Zac frowned. “You brought someone else into this?”
Ben rolled his shoulders like his impending confession would cause him some degree of discomfort — and probably it would. “Me and Kasira,” he said. “She stumbled onto where John was hiding his car in the woods and told me about it. We staked it out last night and sure enough, your boy came hopping down from those trees like he’s part spider monkey.”
“What the hell, Ben? Why would you bring Kasira into this, of all people?”
“It’s not like I recruited her or anything. You’ll remember she was also at the arcade during the Night of Great Weirdness, and she has an interesting theory about what actually happened there.”
Zac smirked. “This should be good…”
“Dude, she may be a bitch sometimes but the girl has a brain.”
“Intellect in the service of evil.”
Ben shrugged. “Maybe, but she thinks John’s sketchy as fuck and she’s right. He didn’t deny that he was still watching you. Frankly, I think the guy’s completely queer for you.”
“God, dude,” groaned Zac, “why you gotta say things like that?”
Ben threw his hands up in the air, palms facing toward the ceiling. For an instant, he looked like a toddler caught red-handed drawing on the walls with a marker but still insisting on his innocence. “Hey, I’m not a homophobe, you know that. Half the kids in theater club are at least bisexual, so I don’t care if John is or isn’t, I’m just saying he’s got a dangerous infatuation with you.”
“Kind of like Kasira?” asked Zac. “Who you’re apparently friends with now?”
“Gimme a break, Zac. It’s not like that at all. I’m just trying to be a good friend and let you know what’s really going on.”
“I get that, but I just want this to go away. How’s that going to happen if you and Kasira start stalking my stalker?”
Ben looked offended. “Goddamn, dude, sorry for even trying. I’m just looking out for you, y’know.”
“And I love you for it, but if John’s lurking around in the woods near my house there’s not much I can do about it. He’s not bothered me at all since last week. He even replaced my broken phone.”
This news startled Ben, partly because he hadn’t credited John with any noble qualities including remorse and generosity; partly because the acceptance of the new phone meant there was still some kind of contact between Zac and the boy, even if it was only peripheral.
“Did you check the phone to see if it’s bugged?” sneered Ben.
“Ah, man, c’mon. Don’t be that guy.”
Ben responded with an irritated grunt.
“So what’s Kasira’s theory about the arcade incident?” Zac asked.
Ben brightened as this made him feel useful again. “Did you know that the downtown area has catacombs under it?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
“Apparently She-Whose-Name-We-Dare-Not-Speak had a grandfather who was an actual old school Chinese gangster. He helped build those tunnels to run illegal booze and hookers back in the day. She thinks that toxic gases might’ve built up in those tunnels and leaked into the arcade. We found an entrance to them in Major Tom’s, back by the toilets. Why it didn’t knock John on his ass is still the million dollar question, of course.”
“The health department tested for carbon monoxide, Ben. They said the place was clean.”
“Yeah, because they assumed it came from the kitchen. This might be coming from a different place entirely.”
“Okay, interesting,” said Zac. He sounded unconvinced because he was. Among John’s growing list of supernatural abilities was the nullification of the principle of Occam’s razor. Zac now knew that when John was involved, the plausible actually seemed less likely to be true. In light of this, in light of what he now knew about John, it was increasingly preposterous to think that an elusive toxic gas explained what had happened in the arcade.
After dutifully assuring Ben that he’d use all proper precautions to keep himself safe, Zac spent the rest of the day looking for John as a dark head bobbing in the crush of the crowded school hallways; as a shadow slipping around a corner; or as the hooded figure scurrying passed an open door. But Zac didn’t spot him once. If the boy was stalking him at school, he was doing an exemplary job.
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