Author : Ian Rennie
When the doctor asked Lacey what he could do for her, she explained everything. She told him about growing up plain, being ignored by boys and teased by girls every day of her school life. She told him about Joey LeMartin’s hypnotic blue eyes that never swung in her direction. Then, she told him what she wanted.
The doctor nodded slowly, thinking about payment under the table, black market cash.
“It will be expensive”
Money, Lacey said, was no object.
Four months later, all the scars healed and the course of medication finished, she was back in her home town, standing outside a bar she knew he visited. Tomorrow night was the ten year reunion. She wouldn’t be attending, her reunion was tonight.
When he came out, he was exactly as Lacey remembered him. The hair was in a short business cut, and he had the beginnings of a spare tire, but he was still the same Joey LeMartin.
He turned to look at her, and didn’t recognize her. She hadn’t expected him to.
“It’s me. Lacey Monroe, from high school.”
He frowned for a second until the name clicked. She wasn’t surprised. He was associating the name with a dowdy duckling, not the swan before him. Finally, he got it.
“Lacey! Yeah, we were in geography together, weren’t we? Wow, you look great.”
She did look great. She had paid to look great, but it was good to hear him say so.
“I’m in town for the reunion, and I thought I’d look up old friends. You want to go get a drink?”
He did. With how she looked, anyone would.
Hours later, they were in her hotel room. She poured bourbon into plastic glasses. He loosened his tie and made flirtatious small talk. The big moment was coming, they could both feel it.
“I wish I’d got to know you better in school,” he said, looking down her cleavage, “I really missed out.”
“Well, you can always get to know me now.” she said, putting the glass down.
He leaned in for the first kiss. As he did, she looked into his hypnotic blue eyes. The plasma disruptor behind her artificial right eye gave off a charging whine that only she could hear.
They would find him tomorrow in a hotel room under a fake name. The face would be too badly burned for iris or dental recognition, but the fingerprints would eventually identify him.
It would take him several hours to die, his blue eyes burned out, unable to cry.
Or to put it another way, he would remember her for the rest of his life.
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