Less Than Zero

Hailey stood on the doorstep as Ernie stumbled off into the early morning. The world was dewy and new. The street was empty. He glanced over his shoulder at her and tripped over his own feet, went sprawling across the asphalt. Hailey didn’t laugh, but her lips did curve upwards into what might have been charitably described as a smile, if seen from afar, and she thought he might have seen it when he picked himself up.

“You’re up early,” Faith observed. Hailey turned and shrugged, mute. Faith took that as encouragement from where she was leaning against the landing, cheeks hollow in the dawnlight. “You really shouldn’t have boys over without telling us.”

“You’re not Minnie.”

“I’m just trying to be responsible.”

“So am I,” Hailey shot back. “Don’t tell them about it, and I won’t blab that you’ve not had solid food since March.”

Faith folded her arms. “You won’t.”

“I have proof,” Hailey said. The words came out more caustic than they should have been, but she didn’t know how caustic they ought to have sounded, and she had to stop living in her head, anyway. She tilted her head, blinking once, as Faith hunched over, skin stretched tight over her bones, eyes huge and dry. “You don’t flush. I have Polaroids.”

“You’re fucked up, you know that?”

Hailey shrugged. Faith stormed up the stairs. Once the ground floor was empty again, she crooked a finger. A chipped mug rocketed into her palm, thudding dully against the flesh, and Hailey settled against the couch, and flicked to MTV. The mug lifted into the air, shafts of sun catching the dust-motes spiralling through the air, and Hailey toyed with it idly, sending it spinning it end-over-end towards the television before bringing it to an abrupt halt right before it smashed into the screen.

“Jesus,” Minnie coughed. Hailey glanced over her shoulder. Her neck hurt. It was probably something to do with her posture, or the mattress, or how she slept. Ernie had said something about “bone-deep tension”, but she was a business student, not a faggy lib-arts dropout who, now that she thought about it, was only passingly fuckable. She resolved to ignore him if she saw him again.

“You could’ve destroyed the TV,” Minnie snapped, and Hailey’s eyes refocused on the older girl. She was trying to light a cigarette, but her hands were quivering too much. Sparks sprayed from where her middle finger met her thumb, scoring the floor lightly. Tanning it. Max had been talking about bringing them to a tanning salon.

“Are you listening to me?” Minnie demanded. Her eyes were bloodshot. Hailey nodded slowly. She’d finally managed to light her cigarette. The smoke wafted up to the ceiling, deepening the stain on the overhead light. Which they rarely used, so it wasn’t much of a loss. “Don’t do it. Again.”

Hailey nodded. She wasn’t in the mood for a fight. She had, to her knowledge, never been in the mood for a fight before. Oh, she’d thought about killing people before, idly, but the thought of doing such a thing in practice struck her as terribly tedious.

Minnie had gone off to the kitchen. She was fiddling with the unplugged toaster, and had gotten it to start by the time Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer music video was over. Hailey thought he was ugly, actually, but the video itself was nuts. Max agreed. (She’d joined her on the couch at some point.)

“You think we should get Galaga or something? For the next party.” Minnie again. Hailey shifted her whole body, kneeling on the cushions, belly pressed flat to the back of the couch, to watch as she swept her arm down the length of the room. “A whole row of arcade games, all lined up against the wall. That’d be deadly.”

“Ask Ed.”

Minnie shot Max a pinched look. “I was just thinking aloud.”

Hailey turned back to the TV.

“We’re going to be late for class,” Edie said, when she came down. No one looked up. Hailey and Max were seated at the bar, digging unhappily into their toast. Behind them, Minnie was fiddling with the boombox, cursing under her breath. “Hello? We’re going to be late for class.”

“Heard you the first time,” Max said. Hailey managed a sound between a snigger and a cough. She was surprised at how effortful raising her head felt.

“What’s the hold-up?” Faith demanded. Hailey looked up and saw that both she and Edie were already dressed. Faith’s gaze flicked to her, then away, settling fixedly on the stupidly kitsch clock that Max had bought on the Boardwalk the other day.

“Have you eaten?” Minnie asked.

“Yeah.”

“Bread’s untouched.”

Faith folded her arms. “I went out.”

“She went out,” Hailey agreed. “She was just coming back in when I came down. Went for a run, then bought, like, a baguette or something.”

“A baguette?” Edie laughed. Hailey shrugged. Minnie stared at her, eyes narrowed, and Hailey shrugged until she looked away. Faith went to the couch and switched the TV back on, then went out for a smoke. Max mumbled something about her being a spaz.