Labelled by Blood

      I woke up to silence. My playlist ended, and it was around 3AM. I laid there and the moon peered in to check on me. I think I had a dream, but I couldn't figure out what it was about. Either way, I was sweating.       I checked my phone and saw a text from Jesse. He told me he wanted to work at getting better with his strim. That be felt like he failed me.       This was at around midnight.       I answered him. Let him know that I failed, not him. And that we would get better, together. The fact that he really thought that made my heart wrench. Jesse, you did everything right. I tried.       Before my thoughts could eat me alive, I rolled out of bed and looked out into the night sky. The moon was big and it made me feel noticed. The city was dead and dark besides the periodic street lamp that gave a line of safety. The occasional car whizzed by, and I wondered what they were up to. What troubles did they have? Were they safe?       Did Collectors come inside the city? Surely they would if they wanted something. This one found something to collect our there in the river. I had no idea where you would find those, but my parents knew.       Anxiety clawed its way up, leaving a trail of numbness behind. I needed to talk to them about this.       I needed to go back to sleep.       Without another chance to let my thoughts get the better or me, I slipped under my covers and forced myself to sleep. Tossing and turning was never this bad for me. But I did pass out eventually. This time, though, I had a nightmare. Jesse died. I didn't.       I woke up with a jump and the fear slipped away from me, my dream with it. Today was gonna be a good day. I was gonna see Jesse. And we were gonna work hard at getting better at our vestiges and strims.       Rolling out of bed, I peeked out the window and smiled. The city was waking up with me and I saw people scattering around and making their way to work or wherever people went on a Saturday morning. The sun wasn't in a rush today, which made me feel better.       I got changed. Today felt like a jeans and flannel day. I went to the bathroom to freshen up. My parents had on the TV on some western movie about a cowboy who was trying to make a name for himself. They stopped watching the news as often since I told them about how I wanted them to address me. Nowadays, they watched a lot of movies and documentaries.       I entered the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water.       "Morning," I said aloud. Greeting them every morning didn't change. Not for me.       "Morning." My dad's voice was gruff.       "Right." My mom said. Her voice was a little more pleasant. Just a smidge.       And that was that. I ate some toast and slipped out of the house with my trusty stapler and bag. I hid it under my flannel. I always got weird looks when I left the home with it on a Saturday. It's why I really liked winter and didn't mind the fall. I had an excuse to wear layers and hide.       Walking down the street, people moved through me like I didn't exist. I made sure not to acknowledge them, either. Winds caressed my face and the clouds above made space for the bright sun.       I didn't know where I was going, but it beat being with my parents. I passed by the arcade. Jesse and I had a handful of dates there, and that's actually where we had our first kiss. But that's not where I stopped. No, I swung by the school and sat on a bench outside. It was stone and smooth. Cold to the touch from the passing winds and lack of visitors. I cracked open my notes and studied. For at least an hour. Then I decided this was a waste of time. I knew everything, already. What was the point? Old habits died hard, I guess.       I got a text from Jesse. He was up before I was and already went to the gym. My hand trembled, maybe from the cold, maybe not. I texted back, promising to be at our usual spot as soon as possible. He gave my message a heart. That was all I needed to make today worthwhile.       Without a second thought, I sped off to the bus stop and waited. I browsed the Internet and scrolled social media. None of it really interested me, but it passed the time.       Eventually, Jesse called out. "Yo, Alex."       I stood straighter, hopping on the tips of my toes. He waved at me and I had to remind myself to keep calm and not freak out. He nodded his head, signaling it was time to go out beyond the city walls. I smiled the whole time we walked and he walked with me this time. Not ahead of me.       We left town and towards the bridge. Our footsteps were soft. It was late morning, so nothing really held us back except for the usuals: his parents, our fuel, and just general exhaustion. But I got the whole day with him if he could.       "Hey," I said, a spring found its way into my step. Calm down, Alex.       "What's up?" he asked with a gentle nudge.       I hesitated. Then changed my question. "What kind of stuff did you want to practice?"       He licked his teeth and shrugged. "After yesterday, I want to be ready for that thing. Whenever it attacks. We need to push ourselves."       "Hmm."       We went on. Our clearing was, well, cleared this time. Nothing to intervene, no one to comment or jab. Just us. I loved it. He brought his own backpack with him and set it down. I did the same with mine and got out the usual six pack of soda. He chuckled and put a hand on my shoulder.       "I'm not going easy on you today," he said, hooking a finger on the plastic rings that connected the shimmering cans together. "I need you to hit things coming at you. Multiple things. Fast things."       Oh. "Right," I said. "I can do that."       "I know you can."       That was all I needed. He knew me so well. I didn't linger, though, and unhooked my stapler. It came back down in the cold steel that was my way of keeping anyone at bay. The scope of my rifle glinted off the sun's white light and something about it just felt new.       "When you shoot. What goes through your mind?" He asked.       I bit my lip. What did go through my mind? Usually I thought about things in a rough math-y way. "Angles and things, I guess. I don't really know."       He grunted. "So, like, what. You see angles and calculate?"       I shook my head vehemently. "God, no. I just get a rough reading. Compared to where I'm at, where is my target? Do I need to adjust for wind? Do I need to hone in or can I just hit it without second guessing?"       He nodded, impressed. "Got it. Okay. Let's get to it, then."       I beamed. And we got to it. He worked me. He threw cans at me so fast they blurred and one almost hit me. Almost. He blew it up before it did. The heat from his strim reminded me that he wasn't just all hugs and cuddles. And the speed he moved at. If he wanted me dead, I was no match. Even if I had the range advantage.       But he didn't care. He whooped my name anyway. He'd say, "my man," when I hit the cans. Or comment a sarcastic, "giiirl," when I didn't quite get them. Both made me blush. Both made me hate feeling. I kept smiling.       When we were out of soda, he looked me straight in the eyes. I studied his face. He was hard and steady. "This next target isn't going to be easy. You ready?"       I paused before giving a slow nod. What target? Before I could ask he ran at me. I stumbled and scrambled to get my rifle up. I raised my gun, but as soon as he was in my crosshair, there was a puff of black smoke and he was gone. I immediately searched the sky and found nothing. A second explosion. From my right. Then he was by my side with a not-so-soft shove. I fell on my butt.       He didn't say anything, just offered me a hand up. I took it after a moment. He pulled me up into a hug. A kiss on my forehead. "Sorry," he said. "I wanted to see how'd you do if someone rushed at you."       I scoffed. Right. He could erase me if he wanted to. "Yeah. I guess no one's ever really done that before."       He ruffled my hair. "Sure, but we know something that will."       We repeated the drill. Over. And over. He didn't hold back, and I was getting faster and better. I was anticipating his moves and could properly lock on and be ready to pull the trigger in half the time it usually took me. After another couple of hours, we stopped to rest. He pulled out a blanket from his backpack and laid it out.       Oh. My. God. He didn't.       But he did. he took out some sandwiches, chocolate-dipped strawberries, salads, even a bouquet of flowers. Morning Glory and Calla Lilies. I was stunned. He had a cocky grin. But I didn't hate seeing it.       "My parents would flip," he laughed.       I nodded. Yeah. They would.       We ate. It was beautiful. It was serene. The sun was still high in the sky. Clouds threatened to paint our view, but they didn't. The chilly air reminded me this wasn't a dream. And Jesse's jokes landed every time.