Y2Gay

Leanne tried to resist the urge to look at her watch.  She held a torch up to her copy of Snow Crash. Her eyes moved down the page but she wasn’t taking anything in. Not that it mattered, she could practically write the manuscript word for word from memory. She had been waiting for Stevie for almost an hour and she felt uneasy about the night ahead. She was sure Stevie had bailed by the time she caught sight of the familiar leather trench coat moving up through the trees, illuminated by the moon.

It wasn’t unusual for Stevie to be late; Leanne’s first memory of Stevie was the thump of her Doc Martens as she trekked into assembly right in the middle of the principal’s usual Monday speech to first years. Principal Flynn’s voice had trailed off as he spotted Stevie moving through the crowds. And Stevie hadn’t even blushed, or her intensely pale makeup had hidden it. Leanne was fascinated by this girl with purple hair, nestled amongst the sea of grey uniforms, like an exotic bird. She knew Stevie was cool as shit, and every day they spent together Stevie just continued to confirm that. So much so that Leanne never complained to Stevie about her poor time-keeping, even if it made her skin prickle with panic that she was being ditched. That panic somehow hadn’t subsided even after 2 years of friendship.

But tonight the panic was mixed with something else. A clock was ticking somewhere and Leanne knew after tonight things would change forever. 

“Sorry,” Stevie said, pushing her hair out of her face. It was black now, after three attempts to dye it at home. Patches of purple still peaked through, desperate to see the world. She dropped her bag on the ground and sat down without looking at Leanne. “Mum came home, and she was off her face. Started crying about her fella again.”

Leanne didn’t say anything. She knew about this fella, and a whole host of random men that seemed to dip in and out of Stevie's life. Leanne still had never been to her house, Stevie said she was protecting her from all the evil. Leanne wondered was Stevie just embarrassed that they had nothing in except vodka and instant noodles.

“I left while she was still crying,” Stevie said. “Didn’t say goodbye.”

“Yeah,” Leanne said. “Me neither.”

Her family hadn’t noticed her leaving, but that wasn’t surprising. Her four older sisters were finally of age to spend New Years in a pub, so the house had been loud with bickering about makeup and outfits. Leanne had said an early goodnight and made her way to her bedroom in the converted attic. She could only bear to wait half an hour before slipping out through the window and making her way towards the woods. It’s not like anyone was going to check on her anyways.

Stevie stared at her, the quietness between them highly unusual. “You think this is really it, don’t you?”

Leanne nodded. They’d been talking about it for months, like a far-off fantasy. But just like how Christmas feels like it’s never coming and then one day you wake up and it’s Christmas Eve, 1999 was ending. Leanne had been the first to explain the phenomenon to Stevie. Usually Leanne’s rambles about science fiction were met with blank stares, but this time Stevie was all ears. She started to make this scrapbook called The End, full of Y2K articles she’d cut out from her mum’s magazines. They’d both taken it in turns drawing pictures and writing stories about what was going to happen.  Planes falling out of the sky, power grids shutting down. Civilization, as they knew it, collapsing under the weight of its own ambition.

And they were stoked.

“I hope it is,” Stevie said. “Like, properly the end. Not just a power cut or something.”

“Same.”

Leanne thought about the things she’d packed in her bag: a torch, some canned food, a few books she owned. It felt crappy to take library books on this expedition, even if libraries ceased to exist tomorrow. 

Stevie lay back on the ground, her coat spreading out around her like a pair of broken wings. Leanne eventually laid back beside her, but even lying this way they had lay a hundred times, Leanne’s breathing felt ragged. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to go at a normal pace.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant sounds of fireworks starting already. Leanne could imagine her sisters in the pub, dressed up in sequins and high heels, laughing and drinking and pretending they were adults. She didn’t feel jealous exactly. It was more like she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be part of it. Especially for The End.

Stevie rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. “Do you think it’s weird that we’re the only ones taking this seriously?”

“It’s not weird. Everyone else is just too stupid to care.”

Stevie laughed. “You’re meaner than you look, you know that?”

Leanne didn’t say anything. She wanted to tell Stevie that she wasn’t mean, not really. She just couldn’t understand how people lived their lives, pretending things are not how they are.

“What time is it?” Stevie asked.

Leanne checked her watch. “Half eleven.”

“Okay. Half an hour to go.”

Stevie sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She looked small like that, wrapped in her oversized coat with her boots half-hidden in the dirt. Leanne thought about how different Stevie looked at school, with her heavy eyeliner and her spiked choker and the way she glowered at everyone, especially the teachers. Stevie actually was quite giggly, and Leanne could make her laugh so much she’d have to run to a toilet so not to pee herself.

“You think it’ll hurt?” Stevie asked.

“What?”

“The end of the world. You think it’ll hurt?”

Leanne shook her head. “No. I think it’ll be quick.”

Stevie nodded. “Good. I’m sick of pain.”

They didn’t say anything after that. The fireworks got louder, closer. Someone must have been setting them off in the field near the woods. Leanne thought about what it would be like if the world didn’t end. Her imagination went blank.

“It’s almost time,” Stevie said.

Leanne nodded, and sat up too. She held the torch to the face of her watch, focusing on the seconds. Stevie bent over the watch, her hair sitting softly on Leanne’s wrist.

They counted down together, quietly. “Ten, nine, eight…”

When they got to one, the fireworks exploded all at once, a burst of brightness and sound that seemed to swallow everything else. They looked up at each other, eyes wide, the flashes in the sky lighting up their faces.

Leanne wasn’t sure what was next, how quickly The End would come. But she knew what she wanted to do before it came. She leaned in closer to Stevie, ducking her head to the side and meeting her lips with her own. In that moment every feeling anyone had ever felt and ever would feel rushed towards her all at once, and she wondered if maybe this was it.

“What the hell?”

Leanne opened her eyes to see Stevie had recoiled her head into her neck. She was staring at Leanne as if she were a stranger. Leanne knew what that facial expression meant, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk.

After what felt like a lifetime, Stevie stood up, brushing the dirt off her coat. “I have to go.”

“Wait—”

But Stevie was already walking away, her bag slung over one shoulder. Leanne watched her disappear into the trees, her heart pounding in her chest.

She stayed there for a long time, her bum growing numb from the cold ground. The fireworks stopped eventually, but she didn’t move. Leanne would wait in the woods until The End.