STATIC (LGBT)

Chapter 21

The next morning, at 9.55, Zoë held my arm over her shoulders  as she cautiously set me in the passenger’s seat in her dad’s car. As hard as she tried, I simply slumped into it despite feeling quite aware of what was going on. My body was just weaker than usual. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” I croaked out. When I shoved my feet into the car my eyes went to the door, wanting Zoë to close it already. And she did.

“Seems like mentally,” Zoë said as she sat down, closed the door and put her seatbelt on. “You’re getting better.”

If getting better meant that I was getting used to the feeling of the fever penetrating every cell in my body and not being delusional because of it, then I was getting better. But other than that, things were as they usually were. Joints ached, rashes had started to become red from all the itchiness and the jerking in my hands was still present but luckily part of my fever was down at least 2 degrees. Not much, but at least it was something.

Zoë started the car and started exiting her driveway when she said, “First time you’ve seen me drive, huh?”

I turned to her, and watched as she sat down unmoving except for only her feet and hands… First time we’re driving somewhere and I can actually see her face. “Yeah.”

“I think the bike suits me better.” Zoë smiled as we drove down the road. “Or maybe it’s because I like it too much. The wind in my face despite the cold, and you have to admit it. It’s freaking amazing to feel part of the wind.”

“I agree that you maybe like it too much.” I said.

“Yeah, right.” She answered back, grinning now that she saw the little weak smile that had formed on my lips. “You’re lucky I can’t get mad at you. Those squeaks you do when you ride with me make your comment comprehensible.”

After me blushing slightly at that reminder, and Zoë laughing about it, a silence came over us. Not those awkward ones, but the kind where each one of us was submerged in our own thoughts. I mainly look outside, feeling different at the fact that I was travelling with Zoë and no sound was as real as it usually is. It was all muffled by the separation of the windows and the body of the car.

I doubt though that driving a bike with me being sick and all this snow was a good idea, so I’m glad we’re in a car with a heater even if my fever didn’t like it.

Suddenly, because of the lack of sounds I easily heard Zoë inhale to speak. So before she did, I turned to her.

“Wanna know something?” Zoë asked me keeping her eyes on the road. “Something you won’t believe?”

“What?” I asked her calmly watching her from my seat.

“I got into music because of you.” She said, a smile forming across her lips.

“W-What?” I asked again, now perplexed at such a sudden confession and answering a few seconds later.

“I promise!” Zoë exclaimed as she changed lanes. “I saw you perform once, before the L.A. concert.”

“You did?” I asked her.

“Yeah, ” She said, “I think it was 3 years before that…. L.A. was 4 years ago so that’s 7 . When we were 11. At a summer camp we both went to.”

…..

Summer camp?

Oh… yeah, that’s when I was still fairly socially active. A music camp. It wasn’t anything special but the activities were incredibly fun. Individual practice every morning, groups after lunch, orchestra at night… It was probably the most easy-going time of my life.