Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

58: to be equalized

"Stop staring at me," I sniveled, blowing my nose. "I look ridiculous."

I looked back at myself through the back mirror of Elliot's car.

Wrapped up in a navy blue muffler Elliot had gotten from a nearby store, wearing his sunglasses and hooded black jacket, I looked like the epitome of a suspicious person loitering the evening streets.

There wasn't enough courage in me to head back home, to where Sonia, Jessica and- possibly, Michael were.

Going to Bianca's house wasn't an option. Her father was Robert Owen, a politician.

The moment I was photographed going up Bianca's front steps, a hundred speculations would surround his name-

even though Robert Owen was a British, not an American politician- and he lived more than five thousand kilometers away from this country.

Crashing Ester's house wasn't a good alternative, either.

Under normal circumstances, perhaps visiting her house would even be a way of repaying her for, in her quiet ways, standing by me through thick and thin.

My visit to her house would generate speculations around the role her family's law firm would play in the lawsuit between Lockwood Co. and Horan Holdings.

A law firm, especially one as big as her family's, welcomed any publicity- whether it be bad or good.

Publicity meant more clients, and more clients meant more profits.

But the effect of publicizing my friendship with Ester on Ester herself, wasn't something I could assume to be positive.

The only alternative to sleeping in my car and potentially being photographed by the paps, was an external residence.

Something like the hotel that we were camping outside of.

"You don't look ridiculous. You look very...mysterious."

Elliot uttered the word with a little wince, smiling as he tucked my hair into the scarf.

"Hm."

"I wish I could walk you up."

There was a soft sigh stifled in his last word, as he glanced at his laptop peeking out of his bag.

"You know, they're already calling you the boy who's 'sleeping with the enemy'. You don't want that label  to be seen as literally true." I pointed to the looming building. "This is a hotel."

"I know." Elliot's mouth quirked into a dry, mirthless smile. "I just- don't want you to cry all alone. Don't think about anything. Get a good rest, and we'll think tomorrow."

"Tell me. Tell me if Micha- if he contacts you. Says anything to you."

The name was stuck in my throat like a fishbone, painfully.

"I will. I promise. Please call me when you're safely up in your hotel room."

The facts I now knew about Michael were imprinted as clear as day in my head.

But somehow, I didn't feel anything. There was a numbness, even mentally examining those facts.

Nodding, I opened the car door.

Elliot's hand stopped me, resting on my shoulder. There was hesitation, something like nervousness in his gesture.

"Clare." He was searching my face, a strain in his face. "I know...I know it's not good timing for me to ask you this. I know it's selfish of me. But I...I want to ask... are you..." His Adam's apple bobbed, up and down.