Two Fish

forty three || alaska

 Alaska thought about what Elver had just asked her and wondered whether she had heard him right.

“Devon?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you want to go to Devon?” she asked. Elver rubbed her hand in his.

“It’s where I’m from. We moved when I was four, but we go back every now and then.”

“I’ve never been.” Alaska leant back and crossed her legs. “How would we get there?”

“We’d drive,” Elver said. “I’d stop as often as you wanted.”

“I’m not good on long journeys.”

“It’s only five hours. We could stop every thirty minutes, if you wanted. Or every five, even.”

“Sometimes I throw up,” she said, her mind racing back to the day on the pier. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already thrown up in front of him.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Elver said with a sigh. “Of course, I’d never speak to you again and I’d ignore your pining at my window.”

Alaska glanced at him and he grinned.

“I’m kidding. You don’t have to at all. I know you hate that kind of thing, and the car.”

“No, I want to, I do. I just have to voice my concerns,” she said.

“And I can voice my solutions.”

“Exactly. Where would we stay?”

“In a tiny tent in a field,” Elver said, purely for Alaska’s reaction. It was worth it.

“I’m not going in a tent, even if you paid me a hundred quid. No way.” She shrank back into her chair.

“No, we’re not going in a tent. I’m only kidding. My aunt has a cottage. She said we could use it any time we wanted.”

“How long’ve you been planning this?”

“I haven’t, really. I thought of it after you left last night, so I texted my aunt, in case you said yes.”

“And she said?”

“As long as we tidy away any mess, she’s fine with it.”

“Where is she?”

“In London.”

“Have you asked your mum?”

“She’s fine with it.”

Alaska tapped her fingertips on her knee, hemming and hawing. “How long do you want to go for?” She broke off and frowned at her knees. “And when?”

“Well, I was thinking we could go tonight. And for a couple of days. Maybe even two nights. Who knows?”

Alaska glanced towards the conservatory door. “What if my mum says no?” She began to bite her nail but Elver pushed her hand away from her mouth.

“Then we have a picnic in the park.”

Alaska grinned. “Bit of a downgrade.” She kept a hold of Elver’s hand, inspecting his nails. Long and rounded. “Do you play guitar?”

“No. Why?”

“You have the nails for it.” She turned his hand over in hers. His little finger had a dent on the knuckle and the nail was chipped.

“Uh, thanks?” He took control, staring at Alaska’s tiny hand and pretending to read her palm. “There is a great adventure in store for you. Follow the way of a wise boy.”