Within/Without

chapter twenty.

Simon - present day

Kenzo. Jun. Oliver. Eli. All of their ID cards spill out into the passenger seat, faces uniformly captured against a bleak blue background. Yet the only face I'm looking at is Val's, which is washed with a cold, terrifying shock. Not confusion. Not fear. Just shock, which is almost worse.

    My heart's thudding, thudding, thudding; I can hardly hear myself think. "Val. Val, I can explain. I promise you, I'm not—"

    "You're not what?" she scoffs, still not looking at me. Her eyes, wide as discs, shift from the floor to her hands to the dash, but they don't look at me, don't dare look at me. Am I truly that awful? "A creep? An identity thief? And how come...how come I know all of these—"

    "Because, Val," I say, dreading it even as I do. "Because they're all me."

    Val's gaze lifts, finally, to meet my face. In the dark, her eyes are almost haunting: one brown, one blue. I'd do anything to wipe the look from her face. Disgust. Fear. Disbelief. Everything I've been running from, and it's here, and I'm stuck. "You're—what?"

    "You met me as Oliver Bonavich for the first time in sixth grade. You met me again as Jun Tsai the next year. I was Eli Perez when we met freshman year of high school, and I was Kenzo Johnson when I took you to prom junior year. It's—all these years, Val, it's been me," I say, wincing a little. In the back of my head, I'm wondering how I ever thought this could even work. It's too ridiculous, too preposterous. How do you love someone you don't even know?

    "I don't understand," Val says, twitching backwards, away from me. "If this is a joke, it's not very funny, Simon."

    "I wish it was a joke," I say. I turn my head, gesturing towards the caterpillar-shaped birthmark on my ear. "See this? I have this little thing no matter what body I'm in. You've seen this before, haven't you?"

    Val's voice drips with uneasiness. "Yeah. Oliver had one just like it...and...and Kenzo...?"

    I turn my head again, pleading for her eye contact, which she gives to me unwillingly. "I'm a shapeshifter, Val," I say. "I was born this way and no one really knows exactly why, but that's how it is. You've known me all these years, just as different people."

    Val sits in silence for a moment, and I let her, because God knows if the roles were flipped, I'd probably need a second too. It's killing me to watch this, watch her, her lips trembling and her eyes around and her fingers knotted together. I was planning to tell her, one day. I just never imagined this would be how it would happen.

    And I was so close. And we were so close. And I thought—

    Val laughs under her breath, a bitter laugh. "You've got to be kidding me," she says, with a shake of her head. "This isn't possible. It's not! All these years, all these failed relationships, and I thought—I thought it was me. Maybe...maybe enough of it still is me. Here I was, after all, going through life, running into people, thinking I was gaining more experience each time, when in reality I was dating the same person, every goddamn time."

    "Val," I start, but I have nothing else to say.

    "I'm an idiot," she says. "I know that much. But then—what does that make you?"

    I swallow around the lump in my throat. There are tears in her eyes, unshed, brimming. It takes all my strength not to reach out and wipe them away, but I know that's not what she wants, what she needs. "I'm just someone who pays attention," I say. "I'm just someone who doesn't want to let go."

    "Well, maybe you should," Val snaps, kicking the car door open. "This is—this was a mistake. I'm leaving."

    All preemptive thought leaves my body as I grip her wrist, the sudden feel of her skin against mine reminding me fiercely of the moment we'd shared only minutes ago. If I could go back. If only I could go back. "Val—" I start, but when she glares at me, the rest of my sentence restructures itself. "At least let me give you a ride?"

    "I don't know you," she says. "I don't know your true face. I don't know you. Like hell I'm letting you anywhere near me, ever again."

    She smacks my hand away, slamming the car door shut.

    She crosses the street, and she's gone, leaving me with this awful sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I've swallowed a brick. Even so, the only thought in my head is I hope she gets home safe.

    The gentlest of tears kiss my cheeks, and then I'm banging on the dashboard with my fists, gritting my teeth, frustrated at myself for crying and at her for leaving and at the universe for screwing me over. Maybe in another life, I'm like everyone else. Maybe in another life Val and I are already together. Maybe in another life we finally stuck.

    I have little time to be angsty, however, because barely five minutes after Val has gone, the passenger side door opens and shuts again.

    When I look over, it's Larry, his scruff overgrown and more gray than blond, his eyes bleary. He smells like cigarette smoke and mothballs.

    "Hey, squirt," he says. "Take us for a little drive, will you?"