C H A P T E R|| F I F T E E N

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I may not understand
You want me to try and forget you
But I'll do the best I can

E l l i e

Sixteen and a half years old

Snow had just started falling in Wyoming. I was one of the only people around here who fucking hated the cold and anything else to do with it. Nothing good happened in the snow, other than the infected being to cold to really do anything. Behind the walls of Jackson Community, we didn't have any of that to worry about anyway. So I was pretty the cold was simply just here to be a pain in my ass.

Maria, of course used it as an excuse to have bonfires every other night. Tommy, I think, used it as an excuse to drink with other men and not get booted to the family couch when returning home. Apparently, we needed an excuse to let loose around here. That's exactly what Joel and him were doing. I had only seen Joel drunk a couple times prior to tonight, though every time ended with me carrying him to bed at one point or another.

"You finally made it." Kat said, the warmth of her body joining mine as she took a seat on the log next to me,"I've been looking for you."

"I'm here now." I told her, smiling at her flushed cheeks. Kat was already a couple years older than I was. It sure as hell didn't stop feelings for developing quicker than I thought they could. It had been a while since I saw her, though. Kat and I weren't serious in whatever we were doing, but having company here and there was always nice.

"Your arm is healing nicely," she commented, her finger trailing over the newly recovered skin. My lip twitched in thought as I looked at the chemical burn that now painted my skin in swirls of unrecognisable scar tissue. No bite mark in sight. Good job, Ellie.

"I was thinking you could tattoo over it for me?" I asked her hopefully. Kat was known for her skilful artistic gift in which many of the townsfolk had glorified over the past few months. Weeks back, Doran, one of the patrolman had come across a tattoo shop from before the outbreak and scavenged the shit out of it — his words, not mine — bringing back just about everything he could find to make and disinfect a tattoo. Obviously, his only returned favour was a tattoo of his own.

"You want a fucking butterfly?" Kat asked, her face pinched at the thought of her first real tattoo on someone of Doran's size being a butterfly. Actually, a fucking butterfly.

Doran shrugged, wide eyed and red faced,"I think it suits me." He said sassily, kicking his feet up comfortably on a nearby table as Kat got the needle and ink ready.

The butterfly turned out better than anyone had expected, obviously, because ever since then Kat had been too busy tattooing everyone else rather than seeing me. I didn't mind in the slightest. Staring at Jupiter play guitar with Joel was just as fascinating— if not more— as getting undressed with Kat. That probably made me a horrible person to admit, but it was the truth.

"You think Joel would mind?" She asked warily. It was no secret that everyone who became my friend got the rundown from Joel. I contemplated life or death for a second as we watched him. When he had seen Doran's tattoo for the first time he looked me dead in the eyes and just said don't even think about it.

But now all I could do was think about it.

So I shrugged,"I don't think he would care."

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