Chapter Twenty-five: Elodie

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The car is painfully silent; Jayne keeps glancing back at me with guilt, sometimes opening her mouth, maybe to say sorry, but then closing it and refocusing on the road. I sit in the back with Sheila and Elie waiting for something to happen. Maybe the car would explode, or maybe someone would die.

The sky is hazy, even though it's finally lightened enough to tell me that it's past two o'clock in the morning. No patch in the sky is visible through low-hanging clouds, and the headlights seem to pierce through a fog. A wink of lightning jets through the clouds and the growl of thunder morbidly follows. Elie sinks deeper into his seat with his hands tangled in his hair and his eyes tightly shut.

I replay Warhol's words and I try to process the fact that Elie might still die. He was--no one close to me was ever supposed to die. I look away before I can start to cry because crying never did anyone good.

Dev, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, takes a crack at a joke, "So. What shorts did the cloud decide to wear today?"

Sheila sighs, her breath fogging the window, Elie moves his hands to cover his ears, and Jayne remains unresponsive.

He clears his throat. "He decided to wear, um, thunderwear." He laughs weakly. "Get it? Thunderwear? Yes? Hmm?" I can't imagine how Dev finds the energy to joke.

Beside me, I feel Elie tense. Slowly, he lifts his head. "Stop the car," he whispers.

Dev turns around in confusion as Jayne's hands tighten on the steering wheel and her eyes nervously flit to the rearview mirror as if she's expecting someone to be following us. I tilt my head in his direction. Every tendon in his neck is taut, his eyes are squeezed shut as if in an attempt erase it all. In a barely controlled manner, he lets out a breath, slowly and painfully, as if he hurts. I hurt for him too. I can't figure out what's wrong--did he know he about the possibility of his death?

Perhaps in a moment of clarity, or maybe a moment of insanity, the coils in his muscles relax, and he opens his eyes, and in the dim light. "Stop the car!" Elie yells. Jayne, anxious enough as it is, startles and slams the breaks, sending all of us flying forward.

He leaps out of his seat, and I realize that he was never even wearing a seatbelt in the first place. With the frenzied movements of a caged animal, he practically climbs over me to reach for the car door. He flings it open and stumbles outside and starts walking.

My head automatically turns to Sheila, thoughts racing. Had he heard the conversation I had with Diane. Sheila nudges me, "I'm not getting him," she mutters. I silently nod and step out of the car and start jogging towards him.

Elie has decided to stop the car in the middle of a deserted road next to an eerily vacant field with grass so overgrown, the tips tickle my shins. It's only light enough to see the vague outline of his figure and behind me, the looming structure of withering powerlines stapled to grainy wooden poles. Despite this, I feel no fear. It's possible that I've been desensitized, but I think it's more than that--there's a nagging sensation in the back of my head. Wherever this is leading to, I know it's safe. "Elie!" I try my best not to completely shout in the stillness of the early hour darkness. It's still too loud.

I have almost caught up to him when he suddenly stops and lowers himself onto the ground.

"Elie? Are you okay?" He flinches away as I touch his shoulder. His eyes lock with mine, but just as quickly, avert to the sky. "Elie?" I ask in the same breath, hoping for a response. I'm not sure what I hope for in an answer.

His eyes fall closed again as he bares his neck to the sky like a magician waiting for the curtain to fall just one last time.

"Elie?" my voice cracks slightly, even though it barely manages to bypass my lips.

"Do you ever ask yourself why you're doing this?" he finally answers, and I silently ponder; was this the answer I was hoping for?

"I don't--I mean, sure. Sometimes, I guess."

"I only asked myself that question about an hour ago. And I haven't stopped thinking about it. We're all going to die anyway, you know." So he did hear Diane and her ridiculous speech.

"Elie, you are not going to die."

"But, we're so stupid. What chance do we have against a virus that knows more than us?" his voice is thick with an emotion I can't quite place, and I'm not sure I really want to.

"We need to get back to the car," I gently prompt.

"Don't you see? That's exactly why I left the car. If I'm going to die, I might as well enjoy my last few months. Elodie, I wanted to see the stars," his voice mellows out to nothing more than a rustle. I drag my eyes up to the sky--it's murky, even the stars it seems, are against our wishes.

Elie lowers his head to the grass and stares up inquisitively at the sky.

I lie down on the grass too.

"There's a lot of things I want," he begins just as the first raindrop hits my nose. "And there's a lot of things I won't get." We fall into a silence.

I try to relax for Elie, I want to wait until he's ready to get back into the car but with each passing moment I feel a brick settle into my chest. From my position, I could only see above me and nowhere around me. I imagine that the last thing I might see is the blurry face of an attacker.

All thoughts dissipate as I feel a hand brush mine. The bricks in my chest turn to air and the air around me turns warm.

The grass sighs as Elie sits up, and I sit up with him. A single raindrop leaks from the clouds and adorns Elie's eyelash, another rolls down my cheek. "Elodie," Elie's eyes find shine in a way that could make even the clouds smile and the rain's heart to race. "I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

I'm swept away in lovely waters, and I know I want to kiss him too.

I almost do.

But then I look into his eyes again.

They shine with warmth and care, but they shine with something else too. They shine with vulnerability. Like at any point, he might shatter. Kissing him would be cruel when he is already fighting against the current of so many emotions.

I pull back ever so slightly and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Not now. We need to go before it starts raining too hard." He draws back, looking slightly hurt, but gets up anyway.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

I shake my head, "There's no need."

As we start running back, the sky's floodgate open, pelting down at us from all sides. We get into the car soaked, but much calmer than before. Sheila gives me a curious glance as I close the car door.

She points to my shoe, "You brought in some junk with you."

I find a yellow flyer stick to my shoe. Carefully peeling it off, I see that it's a flyer. I read it out loud: "Purple Diamond Freakshow: meet the man who emerged from the pit--alive, but just barely."

***

Author's Note:

So, 24 hours late, written hastily. But, on the bright side, this part is longer and . . . HAPPY LATE MOTHER'S DAY. 

What do we think about Elodie's decision? And about the flyer? Hmm? Yes, no?

Also, good luck with finals, y'all. I've, finals . . . .

♥️♥️♥️

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