Antilove

Ventotto

CAPITOLO VENTOTTO

the last one

***

THE DRIVE THERE IS ALWAYS longer than the drive back, it always seems. Not this instance, however.

    Time seems to unravel on the drive back home—her home. It could be that she's driving slower than usual, just cruising along the road. The windows are cracked down a bit, allowing the fresh night air to ruffle their hair.

    Even though whatever cleansing today might have held, there's a conclusion that Rose has come to. Many, in fact, but they don't need to be addressed right away.

    "Hey," she says to Lucien, who's peering out his side of the window, absolutely carefree. But Rose knows there are things to be done.

    Instead of replying her, he turns his head, and Rose fights to keep her eyes on the road.

    "I was thinking we could do something special tonight," she continues. "You know, a good dinner and stargazing or something like that. Didn't you want to see the stars on our first...date?"

    The first date. She hasn't forgotten. How he tested fear out of fear. They didn't really get through all of her countless troubles but it's something he's never rushed. She still doesn't really know him. Funny? Isn't it? That he could tell her every little thing and yet, Lucien's still as elusive.

    "You know, isn't that what humans do?" he muses. "Give a dog the best meal of his life before he's put down?"

    "I wouldn't. Not to you," she says, all the while, laughing. There is some truth to that statement. Kind of like how her parents took her everywhere she wanted to go the week before the divorce was finalized. Too good to be true.

    "I wouldn't object to a dinner." Lucien plays with his fingers—long and beautiful. Every part of him is ethereal.

    "What are we?" Rose asks, half-joking, half-serious. She can't help it, everything is foreign territory with him. It feels like they're starting all over again, and in a way, they are. Before, though, she'd never ask such an outlandish question.

    "Whatever you'd like us to be. I have no qualms with being undefined."

    "Undefined."

    "No limits," he says.

    "This reminds me of calculus." Rose laughs. "Calculus was the only course I really liked back in school."

    "Really?" he asks.

    Rose doesn't know if he's being sincere or not, but the softness of his moss eyes lures her in, even if she can't really look him in the eyes. There is a duality about everything he is. A duality to his dualities. Utterly sincere and nothing to hide, yet the most hidden.

    "Yeah," she says. "I used to do well in math. Well, better than my other subjects. The teacher was also my favorite."

    "How come?"

    "She gave me so many chances. She really helped with everything, even. A lot of my other teachers sort of gave up on me but she really didn't. It's nice I had someone at that age, you know? My life's scattered everywhere these days."

    "How were you like in school? Or college? I know the Rose now, but I don't know the Rose before."

    She gives a little chuckle. "I'm not sure you'd enjoy that. I'm very much static."