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Coraline was certain she was still dreaming when she heard the noise. High, clear, and just out of reach, the sound was unmistakably metal on metal. As she tilted her head slightly, eyes still closed, she recalled hearing such a sound years ago. She could almost feel the phantom grasp of the Other Mother’s skeletal hand against her throat, clawing for the small black key hanging there. In that moment, those mechanical fingers had clinked against the key exactly like the sound in Coraline’s ears now.
She groaned lightly and rolled onto her stomach, clutching her pillow over her head. Just a dream, just a dream. The mantra was as familiar as her own name. She pushed her cheek against the comforting resistance of her mattress, ignoring the continuing clink of the cursed sound.
Focus on what you can feel, Coraline , she told herself. Her sheets were soft, worn with time. These were the ones with a print of small viney flowers, intricately laced together. When had she bought them? It must have been years ago. Oh, right , she remembered. It was just after the garden party five years ago. Right after…
“Urgh!” She ripped the pillow away from her face and sat up, eyes and fists both clenched tight. Once she opened her eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. But she couldn’t just lie there and pretend she didn’t hear the sound of the Other Mother’s fingers tapping against something.
With a huff, Coraline opened her eyes. Her room was completely dark. Except, she realized with a start, for two glowing dots by the window. Like tiny wisps, they hovered just outside. Coraline squinted, trying to make them out more clearly, but it was too dark. The moon was new, and besides the distant stars and the strange glowing dots, no light shone through the old windows. Coraline swung her legs over the side of her bed and placed her feet against the cold wood floor as quietly as she could.
Wincing at every squeak of the floorboards, she stood up, hand grasping the frame of her bed to steady herself. The lights were still there, an almost-white kind of blue. They were completely steady, much more so than Coraline’s pounding heart. She steeled herself and stepped towards them. It was only a few feet to the window, and she gripped the fabric of her pajama pants tightly as she approached.
Peering closer at the lights, she realized with a start that they were eyes. For a moment, her stomach lurched, and she felt as if the floor had fallen from beneath her. Then, with a sharp exhale, she recognized them as the eyes of The Cat.
“You scared me!” she hissed. The Cat lifted its dark shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. “You could have meowed or something,” Coraline said, reaching forward to open the window. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out The Cat clearly, and she felt herself calm down.
The Cat hadn’t changed much since Coraline had first met him. He was still wiry and sleek, and appeared just as judgemental as ever. His tail flicked black against the star-peppered sky. “Alright, come on in,” Coraline said, pushing the window pane out. The Cat climbed onto the nook below the window and allowed Coraline to scratch behind his ears. They were soft, and their warmth against her fingers was a sharp contrast to the chill September air outside.
Frowning slightly, Coraline realized the strange sound had stopped. She looked down at The Cat. “Were you the one making that noise?” she asked. He inclined his head to the side. She took that as a ‘no’. “Well, it’s gone now, at least.” She removed one of her hands from The Cat and waved it around, as if brushing away the memory of the sound. She then turned and scooped The Cat in her arms, taking him over to her bed and sitting down.
As soon as she sat, The Cat wriggled out from her grasp, as usual. He settled himself on her pillow and closed his eyes. Coraline huffed. “You just wanted a comfier place to sleep, didn’t you?” She supposed she couldn’t blame him. He was a bit of a wuss-puss, after all.
Coraline let out a bit of air through her lips, making a trumpet sound as she did so. The hallway outside her slightly cracked door was dark, and she couldn’t hear any other noise from the house around her. It seemed like everyone else was asleep.
A small buzz from her nightstand reminded Coraline that there was, in fact, one person most definitely awake at such an ungodly hour. She grinned as she reached over and picked up her phone, hunching over to read the text from WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji].
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: hey jonesy check this out
Below that, Wybie had attached a photograph of what was clearly meant to be a slug, if slugs were made of old bicycle gears and scrapped toaster parts. The slug-bomination even had eyestalks made of warped screwdrivers, topped with plastic googly eyes.
Coraline snorted. Slugs were a running joke between Wybie and her, but this was probably one of the most creative interpretations she’d seen yet.
Coraline not Caroline: That’s ridiculous. I love it. XD
A moment later, she followed up her response with a quick photo of The Cat, curled up on her pillow. He meowed grumpily at the flash from her camera, but Coraline ignored him.
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: oh man he really does like you better than me!
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: wait why are you awake??
Coraline exhaled, trying to figure out a good reply. She should have known that Wybie would pick up on her insomnia. He may have been an idiot most of the time, but when it came to observational skills, she didn’t know anyone else who matched his prowess.
Coraline not Caroline: Can’t a girl stay up late sometimes? :/
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: mmm no not this late and not when the girl is you
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: you literally have the sleep schedule of an old man
Somehow, Wybie managed to be insufferable even through a screen. Coraline glared at the phone as if he could see her.
WHY-WERE-YOU-BORN [snail emoji]: did you have another nightmare
He knew her too well. Coraline muttered something unintelligible about her therapist and working through trust issues. The Cat opened one pale blue eye, judging her silently.
Coraline not Caroline: Wanna go for a walk?
A few leaves dusted the wood that covered the old well. They rustled slightly in the cold breeze, whispering with each movement. The trees surrounding the well stood like sentries, just barely silhouetted against the sky. A distant call of some owl echoed through the night.
Coraline scuffed a dirty sneaker against the ground. She wasn’t sure why she still liked this place. After all, this was where she and Wybie had both almost died. She shuddered to think of what it would have been like if the Other Mother’s right hand had dragged them into the endless well. They would have fallen and fallen, maybe forever. Coraline felt her breath quicken as she imagined the tug of gravity against her body, pulling her down into that dark and gaping hole.
A hand touched her shoulder lightly and she spun around, grabbing at her assailant on instinct.
“Woah, hey, Jonesy, it’s only me!”
Focus on what you can feel, Coraline.
She let out her breath and felt the rough leather of Wybie Lovat’s stupid jacket in her hands.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough night.”
“Clearly.” Wybie tilted his head and looked her over. Coraline rubbed at the back of her head. She knew she probably looked a mess. She was still in her pajamas, which tonight consisted of Mr. Bobinski’s Mouse Circus t-shirt and a pair of her dad’s ratty college sweatpants. They were tight around her hips now, which bothered her. She didn’t like the thought of looking even more like her mom. She shivered a little in her coat, a yellow waterproof one that she bought in a bigger size every few years.
Wybie never changed, which was a comfort. His hair stood out in all directions against his head, reminding Coraline bizarrely of a stand of young pine trees. He still wore the same kind of clothes he always had, although his jacket was getting a bit short around his arms. With his head angled, he looked just like The Cat. Coraline laughed.
“If you keep your head like that, it’ll get stuck sideways,” she said.
Wybie stuck his tongue out at her.
“Screw you.” There was no malice behind his words. “So, what’s going on tonight?”
Coraline plucked at a piece of blue hair hanging by her face.
“I heard something weird,” she said. “It sounded like, um, the Other Mother.”
Wybie frowned.
“Oh.” He flicked a bit of dirt off his jacket sleeve. “Well, she’s gone, right?”
Coraline threw her hands up.
“I know that! But I swear I heard it!”
Wybie backed away a little.
“Okay, okay, sorry. I wasn’t saying you were lying or anything.” He looked at her with those large eyes. “What do you wanna do about it?”
“I don’t even know,” Coraline sighed. “I guess I just wanted a distraction? I mean, I’m not gonna go back to sleep now.”
“Yeah,” said Wybie. “True. If you really want, we could start the chem homework for Friday.”
“As if!” Coraline laughed. “You’d have to go over titrations with me again, anyway. I was a bit distracted the other day.”
Wybie kicked at a pebble. “By Camilla?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said with a sheepish smile. “She sits right in front of me and I can’t help staring at her curls. She keeps asking me for my pencil sharpener. Do you think she likes me?”
“She’s dating someone, Jonesy! I don’t think she’s flirting with you.” Wybie’s pained expression was nothing new. Lately he seemed more aggravated by Coraline’s frequent infatuations than ever.
“Oh, right!” she said. “She’s with Daniel Roth now, isn’t she? He’s also gorgeous…”
“He has a stupid beard,” scoffed Wybie. “It looks like he’s been on a desert island for months.”
Coraline shrugged. “At least he has facial hair.”
“I could grow a beard like that too, if I wanted to look stupid,” Wybie said. He pantomimed stroking an imaginary goatee. “Ooooh, Camilla, look at me! I have a dead rat strapped to my chin!” He stepped to the side and took on a simpering pose, clasping his hands together. “Ah, Daniel, how could I resist you?”
Coraline wasn’t listening. “Wait, Wybie, you have a razor, right?”
He glanced at her.
“Yeah, why?”
“Can I use it?”
He laughed.
“For what, your massive moustache?”
She punched him lightly in the shoulder.
“No, asshole! Let’s shave my head.”
As she cackled at Wybie’s stunned look, Coraline could almost believe nothing unusual had happened that night at all.
Wybie’s bathroom was tiny and smelled like his grandma’s perfume. It made sense, since she did share the space with her grandson. As soon as they tiptoed inside, Coraline and Wybie began a careful dance of trying not to bump into each other.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
A pause.
“Ah!”
“My bad.”
When they finally managed to extract Wybie’s electric razor from the cabinet (during which a bar of his Grandma's strongest smelling soap dropped onto Coraline’s head), both teenagers had sustained multiple stubbed toes and bruised arms.
Coraline sat down on the edge of the bathtub with a huff, rubbing her head where the soap bar with a death wish had left a small welt.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Sit next to me and help me shave it.”
Wybie fidgeted with the razor.
“Are you sure about this, Jonesy? If you hate it, you’re gonna murder me, and I still have to finish season three of Star Trek.”
Coraline rolled her eyes.
“I promise I won’t murder you,” she said. “I just need a change, you know?”
“Hmm.” Wybie stared at her.
“What? Stop being creepy,” hissed Coraline. She leaned forward to bat him on the arm, then grabbed his wrist. “Sit down.” With a small grunt, she pulled him down towards the bathtub, but sorely misjudged how much force was needed.
“Woah, wait-!”
With a muffled crash, she found herself on the floor of the bathtub with Wybie’s face mere inches from her own.
“Gah!” Coraline felt herself go beet red and struggled to push him away from her. He flailed his arms helplessly. “Wybie, get off!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
It took them a minute to disentangle themselves and move back to the edge of the tub. Wybie seemed dazed, and Coraline desperately willed her flushed cheeks to return to their normal hue.
Wybie held up the razor, his eyes darting between it and Coraline.
“Can we get this over with before my grandma wakes up?”
Coraline nodded and turned so her back faced him. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he lifted up a chunk of blue hair.
She shivered.
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked.
Wybie laughed.
“Nope!” he said. “Not on anyone else!”
Coraline groaned.
“Wonderful.”
The razor suddenly buzzed loudly right next to her ear.
“You’re sure your grandma’s asleep?”
“Yup.”
The buzzing grew louder. Coraline scrunched her eyes shut. Its high pitch reminded her of the noise from earlier. No, no, no. Focus on what you can feel. Wybie’s fingers were hot against her skin. Was that normal? Did he have a fever? Did she have a fever?
“Oh, shit,” said Wybie.
Coraline tensed.
“What? What is it?” she asked.
Wybie held up his hand, a bright blue hunk of hair clasped within it.
“Check it out! I could make a Jonesy doll outta this!”
Coraline gritted her teeth.
“We’ve talked about the d-word, Wybie,” she spat.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Twenty minutes later, he was finished. Coraline stood up and carefully picked her way over to the mirror. Her eyes widened as she took in the girl looking back at her.
She hadn’t dyed her roots in a while, and the little bit of hair remaining on her head was her natural brown. It made her look older, somehow, to have dark hair again. Her jawline was more prominent now, too. She raised her chin and stared at her bone structure. People always said she had bird-like features, and now she saw it for herself.
“Do you like it?”
She turned and met Wybie’s gaze.
“Yeah,” she said. “It feels good.”
He grinned, a little bit goofy, a little bit proud, somehow.
“Can I…” he reached his hand out, hesitating.
Coraline smirked.
“Fine, go ahead.”
He put his hand gently against her shaved head, and his lips parted slightly.
“Oh, wow! It’s so soft!” They both chuckled. “Who needs The Cat when I can just pet your head?” Wybie said. Coraline beamed.
From outside the hall, a voice called, “Wyborne! What are you doing up at this hour?”
Coraline and Wybie froze, then burst into a poorly concealed fit of laughter.
Focus on what you can feel, Coraline.
In that moment, she felt only the smile on her face and Wybie’s hand against her skin.