III Meditations #4
“I’m not writing that shit,” Macmillan said. “I’m writing art. Take it or fucking leave it.”
“Understood,” Ai said. “In that case, good. But you need to explain some things more effectively.”
“Explain what?” Macmillan asked.
“There are gaps in the story,” Ai said. “Things that don’t connect.
You have a young woman who is looking for her brother.
You have a man trying to create an artificial intelligence that will change the world.
These two stories should intersect in the end.
They sort of do, but not clearly.” “That is actually something that I will consider changing,” Macmillan said.
“Good,” Jalon said. “This story? It could be a masterpiece. It could be a banger. It’s not there yet.”
“Understood,” Macmillan said. “I will work harder.”
“You, young man, are in high school,” Ai said. “You have your entire life to write a masterpiece.”
“Maybe,” Macmillan said. “I might get murdered if Jalon is correct and there is a serial killer butchering fucking teenagers.”
They went over the story, line by line, and described what worked and what didn’t from the story.
They cared about Macmillan too much to lie to him and tell him that everything worked when it didn’t - and told him what parts were brilliant.
The core idea - of the creation of an AI because a younger brother had fallen into sin and darkness - was a fine idea.
It just needed to be expressed in a more intelligent manner.
“All right, thanks for going over my story,” Macmillan said. “I’m taking everyone to the pizza place. My treat.”
“Outstanding,” Jalon said.
“Rocking,” Alexis said.
“I’m hungry,” Ai said. “I can eat pizza.”
They left with their laptops and their backpacks and rode in two cars - Ai’s car and Macmillan’s old Toyota. They arrived at the pizza place a few minutes later.
“Pizza,” Alexis said. “Listen, Macmillan, you could end up making it as a writer. You might not. It’s very, very difficult because there are millions of people trying to make it as a writer.”
They settled on two large pizzas - one with veggies and one with meat. They ate pizza and talked about their lives.
“I don’t care about the killer,” Alexis said. “I’m happy to know good friends, good conversation, good food, and an ambition to do something fantastic. I’m trying to be an actress.”
“You might make it,” Macmillan said.
“But it’s hard, right, Ai?” “That one is difficult,” Ai said. “But I believe in you guys.”
Beatrice was heading to meet Ghostkin and find out what he was doing with himself when he wandered off all those times. He had invited her to meet him at an office building. She walked out to the high school’s parking lot after school.
Beatrice walked past Bailey on her way to her car.
Bailey stopped her. Bailey wore khakis and a Chicago Bears T-shirt. His muscles bulged through the shirt. He had short blond hair.
“Hey,” Bailey said. “Beatrice.”
“Hey, Bailey,” Beatrice said.
“I want to talk to you about something,” Bailey said. “You need to understand that I’m not the killer.”
“I know,” Beatrice said.
“What? You know?” “I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because there’s no way you’d kill anyone. Your life is easy. You are a football player who gets all A’s. You are on top. You have absolutely no reason to start butchering people.”
“I could start butchering people,” Bailey said.
“Nope,” Beatrice said.
“I’m dangerous,” Bailey said.
“Not even to puppies,” Beatrice said.
“I’m not a sniveling coward,” Bailey said.
“I’m impressed that you’re dangerous,” Beatrice said. “You have impressed me. You are a dangerous young man. I hate that about you.”
“Fuck yourself,” Bailey said.
“I don’t know what you think you want from Alexis.”
“I love her.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes. Why can’t people realize that I really, desperately care for her?”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Bailey said. “I. Love. Alexis.”
“Good,” Beatrice said. “I’m glad. I’m not trying to seduce Alexis.”
“But your friend Jalon certainly is,” Bailey said.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice said.
“If roles were reversed, I’d be considered an asshole jock who’s bullying a geek who has a wonderful romance,” Bailey said. “But I’m a jock, and he’s a geek, so he’s allowed to make fun of me and hit on my girl? Ridiculous double standard.”
“What do you think of him?” Beatrice asked.
“I’d like to beat the living shit out of him and scare him and make him piss his pants in fear,” Bailey said.
“Gee, quite the gentleman you are,” Beatrice said.
“If Alexis agrees to sleep with Ghostkin?” Bailey asked.
“Not gonna happen,” Beatrice said.
“No?” Bailey asked. “My girlfriend and your boyfriend are completely innocent? Neither one would stray?” “No,” Beatrice said. “Unbelievable.”
“If they do, will you spend the night with me?” Bailey asked.
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “In this very unlikely scenario, I will fuck you senseless. And I am pretty damned good in bed.”
“If I do it, I do it because, in that exact moment, I love you and your depressed, manic, pixie self,” Bailey said.
“Goodbye, stud,” Beatrice said.
“Goodbye.”