Chill Evening

I sat on the edge of my bed, the phone heavy in my hand, the Stevenson house fading in my rearview mirror—or, well, my memory. My skin still tingled with the ghost of Cathy's touch, her taste still sweet and thick on my tongue. The night air had cooled the sweat on my skin during the walk home, but my brain was still on fire.

What the hell was happening?

I paced my room, running my hands through my hair. The Omni App. It had to be the app. Every time I typed something, it came true. Not "came true" like a coincidence—came true like reality bent over and spread its cheeks for me.

But how? Why? Was it magic? Some kind of advanced tech? A dream? I pinched myself. Hard. Still here. Still reeking of another woman's perfume and God knows what else.

I needed to think. To process. To do anything but spiral into existential madness.

My phone buzzed. A Discord notification. Jake: dude where the actual fuck are you we've been waiting for an hour get on csgo you coward!1

Right. Game night with the old squad. Jake, Mike, and sometimes Derek when his girlfriend let him off the leash. Normally, I'd make an excuse. Normally, I'd say I was tired.

But normal was a bullet train that left the station about three hours ago. I needed something familiar. Something that made sense. Shooting virtual terrorists with my dumbass friends? That felt like the most grounded activity available.

I booted up my PC, the familiar hum of the fans almost soothing. Discord chimed as I joined the voice channel.

"OH SHIT, LOOK WHO FINALLY DECIDED TO JOIN THE LIVING!" Jake's voice blasted through my headphones. "Did your mom finally let you off your leash, princess?"

Mike's quieter laugh echoed in the background. "Chill, Jake. He's here. That's what matters."

"Whatever. Get in, loser. We're queueing."

I loaded CS:GO, the familiar menu music a small comfort. My mind was still reeling, but the rhythm of it—joining a party, selecting maps, the banter—it was autopilot. Safe.

We dropped into a match on Mirage. I was distracted, my reflexes shot. I died in the first round to a stupid peek.

"BRO!" Jake's voice hit a new octave. "My grandma could aim better than that, and she's blind in one eye! What are you even doing? Thinking about my mom again?"

Mike snickered. "Dude, too far."

"Too far? Please. His mom probably wishes I'd go too far. I bet she's home right now making cookies, hoping the nice young man from the internet will stop by."

I gripped my mouse. Jake always did this. It was his whole personality—trash talk, boundary-pushing, "it's just jokes, bro" energy. Normally, I'd roll my eyes, call him a virgin, move on.

But tonight was not normal. Tonight, I had a goddamn superpower.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across my face. Jake wanted to talk about moms? Fine. Let's talk about moms.

I alt-tabbed out of the game, my phone already in my hand. The Omni App was right where I left it, a black void of infinite potential. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Jake's voice droned on in my headphones, something about me needing to uninstall.

I typed, slow and deliberate:

Jake's mom loves to hit on his friends on team speak.

I hit SAVE.

For a moment, nothing. The game continued. Jake was still talking shit. "—and another thing, your awp sense is so high you couldn't hit—"

Then, a new voice joined the Discord channel. It was a woman's voice. Mature. Warm. A little breathless.

"Hello? Is this... is this the right room? Jakey said I could come say hi to his friends."

Silence. Absolute, dead, holy-shit silence.

Mike's mic crackled. "Uh... Jake? Who's that?"

Jake sputtered. "I... what? Mom? Is that you? What the hell are you doing on Discord? I didn't—I never—"

"Oh hush, sweetie," his mom's voice cooed. "You're always talking about your little gaming friends. I thought I'd finally introduce myself properly. Which one of you is Mike? Jakey says you're the polite one."

Mike's voice was strangled. "That's... that's me, ma'am."

"Oh, wonderful. And the other one? The one who's always so... loud?" Her voice dropped, taking on a playful, almost flirtatious quality. "That must be you, Derek?"

"I'm..." Jake's voice was weak now, confused. "Mom, I'm Derek. I'm your son. What are you—"

"Not now, sweetie. Mommy's talking." Her tone was dismissive, sweet but sharp. "Now, Derek, Jakey tells me you're the life of the party. I do love a man with energy. Tell me, what do you look like? I'm picturing someone tall. Strong hands, maybe?"

I muted my mic and laughed. Actually laughed. A full, silent, shaking laugh that bent me over my keyboard.

On screen, my CS:GO character was getting shot. I didn't care.

"Mom!" Jake's voice cracked. "What are you doing? Get off! This is weird!"

"What's weird, baby? I'm just being friendly. You're always saying I need to be more social since your father left." A pause. "Oh, Mike, that's such a deep voice. Are you a deep voice kind of guy? I bet you are."

Mike, to his credit, sounded like he was being waterboarded. "I... I need to... I think my doorbell is ringing."

"It's 2 AM, Mike," Derek's voice chimed in, equally bewildered. "Your doorbell isn't—"

"MUST BE THE WIND. BYE." Mike's icon went grey. He'd left the channel.

Jake's mom giggled. It was a surprisingly young, girlish sound. "Oh, did I scare him off? Shy one. I like that. Derek, you're still here. Tell me about yourself. Do you play any instruments? I've always had a thing for guitar players."

"Mom, for the LOVE OF GOD, get off my computer!" Jake was pleading now, his trash-talking bravado completely evaporated.

"Hmm?" Her voice was distracted. "Oh, fine, fine. But Derek, sweetie, I'm in the kitchen. I made too much lasagna. If you're ever in the neighborhood... Jakey can give you the address. Maybe you and Mike can both come. We'll have a real... party."

The way she said "party" made it sound like a felony. Then, a new sound. A soft, wet noise. A kiss blown into the mic.

"Bye-bye, boys. Play nice."

Her mic clicked off. She was gone. The silence that followed was so heavy I could feel it in my teeth.

Jake's voice, when it came, was small. Broken. "What... what the fuck just happened?"

Derek cleared his throat. "Your mom... just hit on me. And Mike. On Discord."

"That's not—she doesn't—she's never—" Jake was spiraling. "She doesn't even know what Discord IS! I had to show her how to use the TV remote last week!"

I unmuted my mic. Took a breath. And delivered the killing blow with the casual precision of a surgeon.

"Sounds like your mom loves to chat with your friends, Jake."

Another beat of silence. Then Jake's mic cut out. A moment later, his icon went grey. Then offline.

Derek was quiet for a long moment. "Dude. What the hell did you just do?"

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the Omni App on my phone, still open, still waiting.

"I have absolutely no idea," I said, and for the first time tonight, I was telling the complete truth.

But I was starting to get one. And tomorrow, I have three options for tomorrow.