The Marriage Game

In Which There Is a Creepy Bathroom Encounter

After thirty minutes of Declan talking about everything he could think of—from the pros and cons of various snack foods to the meaning of life—and Camila grudgingly responding, they reached a small gas station. A muddy, cherry-red Kia idled in the empty parking lot.

"Mind if I go to the bathroom?" Camila leaned back in her seat, trying to get comfortable. Her body was stiff and tired from sitting in a car all day.

"Sure."

She opened the door before he could change his mind. Quickly, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her back.

Camila ignored the familiar jolt of electricity. "What?"

"Camila," Declan said, his eyes cold. "If you try to run, I'll catch you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

She plucked his fingers from her wrist and jogged to the gas station.

The inside looked like it hadn't been cleaned in months. Dust cluttered the shelves and clung to the cashier's desk. She heard the faint buzzing of a fly and caught a glimpse of it drifting lazily around the single flickering light bulb.

The cashier, a young man in his late teens with large ears and shaggy blond hair, glanced up when Camila opened the door. He mumbled a greeting and looked back down at his phone.

Outside, Declan began to fill the car with gas, but his eyes stayed locked on her. Camila ducked behind a vending machine and dug into her pocket, pulling out the scrap of paper she'd dreamed about the night before.

In neat, familiar handwriting was a phone number.

Camila breathed out slowly, her hands shaking. It was Alex. The handwriting was his. Maybe he really was alive. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to break down. The idea of him out there, alone, in danger, brought a wave of fear crashing down on her.

She strode towards the bathroom, stopping just outside the door. Camila heard the faint sound of crying: uncontrollable, choking sobs, the kind of tears that didn't look pretty or elegant.

She opened the door.

The woman inside jumped backwards, startled. She was young, in her late twenties if Camila had to guess, with blond hair tinted pink at the tips and honey-brown skin. Her shirt hung loosely off bony shoulders. Her eyes were pink from crying, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Camila gasped, trying to look surprised. "I just- I hate to ask you this-"

"Oh no I'd love to talk about it!" The woman promptly collapsed on her shoulder. "You see-"

"I need your phone."

"...Sorry, what?"

"It's my mom, she's in the hospital, might have cancer, you know." Camila rattled off the first tragic story that came to mind, blinking like she was holding back tears. "Got her biopsy results just an hour ago. My stupid boyfriend has this shitty truck without a USB port. I mean, even the air conditioning is god awful, I just- Sorry. I'm feeling a bit under the weather."

It wasn't a total lie—the air conditioning was legitimately awful—but if Camila could get ahold of a phone, she might be able to get ahold of Alex. If she could get to Alex, she'd have a better shot at taking back her kingdom and saving her people.

And she needed to hear his voice. She needed to know he was okay.

"That's horrible! Do you want a second, or-"

"No, no, just your phone."

The woman sniffled and tried to wipe her tears away, mostly just smudging mascara across her cheeks. "Yeah, okay."

"Do you, um, want anything?" Camila asked hesitantly.

The woman's eyes were wide, glistening with tears. Hurriedly, she shook her head.

"Okay. Phone please?" Camila held out her hand. The woman placed a thin iPhone on her palm. The case was sparkly purple, dotted with crescent moons.

"My boyfriend cheated on me."

"Oh, um-"

The woman hurled herself into Camila's arms, smearing snot all over her T-shirt. Tentatively, Camila patted her back.

"I- I'm Rosa, by the way, you know. I can't wait to be great friends! What's your name?"

The woman—Rosa—was all skin and bones, but there was a surprising strength in her grip. She buried her face into Camila's neck, smearing cold tears onto her skin, and inhaled deeply.

"I really, really should call my mom..." Camila pried the woman's arms off her body.

"Okay... I guess that's fine." Big brown eyes watched her, waiting expectantly.

"Thanks for the phone?" Camila tried. She looked at Rosa and an unexpected shiver ran down her spine.

The woman reminded her faintly of a cat lurking outside a glass fishbowl. Rosa's gaze traveled down Camila's body, idling on her dirt-streaked sweatpants and the dots of dried blood on her T-shirt. Her lips curled upwards, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Is there any way you could wait outside the door? You know, I get super emotional, with the whole mom having cancer thing, silly really-"

"Oh! Of course. Yeah, I guess I can do that." The woman gave a high-pitched giggle, kissed Camila's cheek, and winked. Her breath smelled like day-old fish. "It was nice meeting you, Camila."

The door shut softly behind her.

Her hands shook slightly. Camila dug into her pocket, grabbed the piece of paper, and typed in the phone number. It rung once, twice, and then she heard the faint rush of wind, crows cawing, and the crackling of fire on wood.

Camila took a deep breath. This could be nothing. It was probably a dream, her imagination trying to fix the holes in her heart. Still, a faint kernel of hope took root inside of her.

"Alex?"

Anyone notice anything weird about the conversation with Rosa? 

Thanks for reading! You're fantastic and I hope you have a wonderful day!

-Harley