dedicated to yazzy slash sexponents bc she helped me get through "to kill a mockingbird", which turned out to be a heartbreaking novel and now, one of my absolute favorites. x
[ thirteen ] mood swings & marcus
↠ sunday - five days before graduation
Unlike Elliot who had an undisturbed sleep, I couldn't bring myself to shut my eyes. Stress poked at me every second, and even though I tried to get lost in the rolling hills that passed the window, the atmosphere of the tour bus reminded me constantly that we didn't belong. That we lied about who we were and we took someone's identity just for a free expense trip.
On one side, I had no difficulty with taking the opportunity. When it knocks, you gotta open the door, right? What other choice did we have other than rotting in that leaky convertible?
On the other hand, we were posing as someone else. And the suspicious looks from none other than Marcus kept reminding me. All throughout the night, when he wasn't reading his book, he shot me a look of pure skepticism. If he looked back one more time, I'd be tempted to shoot him the finger, no regrets.
My eyes drooped heavily but I didn't bother going to sleep now. The sun was rising, and as I glanced outside the tour bus window, the sun's rays were already escaping from behind the hills on the interstate. One thing was for sure; we had finally left corn country. A massive boulder just lifted off my chest. I didn't plan on seeing those yellow crops of torture for a long time.
I stared long and hard at the passing yellow strips that decorated the gray gravel passing beneath us, so hard that my eyes hurt. Getting lost in thought was a wonderful stress reliever. The scary thing about this all was that I didn't know what to do next, what to do if we got caught, when they figured out that we weren't Zoe and Alfie Whatevers after all. I've always liked having a plan, because knowing what happens next meant no disasters or unplanned things. And here I was, sitting on an unplanned bus going on an unplanned tour with an unplanned acquaintance. And to be frank, it scared the shit out of me.
I wondered how they were coping with my loss back at home. The class probably had gotten off the plane by now, if they hadn't already. My mother would be straight-out overreacting and interrogating Kara as to why I was left behind. I would be surprised beyond belief if she hadn't sent a search party out after me.
Ever since my dad left and didn't return like he promised, she'd been keeping a close eye on me, so much so that it was smothering. Maybe she figured that I would leave just like my dad. What else did I have to stay for? She had her new husband. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't returning for my mom. I'd go back, snatch my diploma, and leave once again without another look back.
Something stirred beside me, and a heavy head fell on my forearm before waking up. Batting heavy lashes, he yawned with a sullen look.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself."
"Got any beef jerky?"
I resisted the urge to smile at him before shaking my head.
"Good morning to you too."
"Sorry, I'm just really hungry," he grinned sheepishly. "I haven't had a decent meal that wasn't Ruffles or Zebra Cakes."
I sighed heavily. "Maybe they have complimentary meals on this tour. You never know."
"Speaking of this tour, you know we can't keep posing as Zoe and Alfie forever," said Debby Downer. "What if they call the tour that never picked them up? We're really screwed then."
I rolled my eyes. "If you keep worrying, I'm going to have to slap you with this pamphlet."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brochure on the back of the seat and rolled it up, lifting it threateningly.
"Vienna?"
"What?"
"You're about as threatening as a baby squirrel."
I frowned. "I know."
I unrolled the brochure and put it to good use. " 'European Couples Therapy, helping mend relationships since 2007.'" I read aloud. Then, my eyes widened as I did a double take, and Elliot did the same.
"Wait, what kind of tour are we on?" he said, staring blankly at me.
I licked my lips and grinned foolishly, shoving the pamphlet away. "It's nothing."
"A Couples Therapy?" he echoed, his eyes widening. "Out of all the tour buses, we chose to sneak up on the one bus that helps middle-aged couples on the verge of divorce?" he whispered, lowering his voice.
"They're not all middle-aged. We're here, remember?" I said teasingly, but I couldn't erase the irritation in his eyes.
"But we're not a couple, Vienna, and we're definitely not Zoe and Alfie."
I quickly defended, "Zoe and Alfie must have been a couple, and technically, we are them, for the time being. And hey, if it wasn't for me, we would've probably still been stuck in Tennessee." I saw a green sign up ahead, proudly declaring that we crossed the border into Arkansas.
"See?" I pointed a proud finger to the sign as it quickly whizzed by. "We've made enough progress to get here. And at what cost? Nothing."
Elliot was silent a moment, wondering whether or not to swallow his pride or mutter his thanks, none of which he did, by the way. After a pause, he whispered with a twisted, disgusted face, "So we have to pretend to be a couple now?"
My fist automatically connected with his shoulder in a punch.
"Ow! I was just messing around!" Elliot pouted, rubbing his shoulder and exaggerating.
"If I recalled, you kissed me under that basketball net, hotshot," I retorted. "Cooties."
"I was just teasing you," He bursts into an onslaught of soft chuckles, rubbing the side of his arm and leaning away from me. I stopped hitting him, reluctantly.
I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me and sure enough, I was right. Across the aisle from us, a middle-aged couple looked on with pity at Elliot and I. "Oh, so young and already having troubles," the wife mumbled under her breath, shaking her head before saying, "Good thing you lovely blokes are on this tour!"
Elliot looked surprised, but being the wonderful speaker he is, he quickly snapped out of it. "Um, yes. We are so delightfully lucky to be on this tour with um, my lovely girlfriend, here." He gestured over to me, but the woman looked skeptical.
"I don't hear an accent from you, dear. Say, what part of England are you from?"
It didn't take a mad scientist to figure out that Elliot was panicking. Without a second thought, I interjected, faking a faker-than-plastic English accent. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry ma'am, but my... boyfriend... here, isn't from England. At least, he wasn't raised there. He was raised here, in the States, with English parents."
"Oh! My mistake, dearie," the woman kindly smiled, the wrinkles at her eyes deepening when she did so. She seemed about fifty or so, maybe sixty.
"Me and my husband here have been on this tour for the past three years. Lovely scenery in the Americas, don't you think? It's really good for the therapy...We've had a lot of ups and downs but this tour just comes with the best relationship therapists. Anyways, my name's Karen, and this here -" she pointed a stubby thumb to who I assumed was her sleeping husband - "is Harold."
"Fabulous to meet you," I nodded, still speaking in my ongoing English accent that was fading fast. "I'm Zoe and this here is Ell---I mean Alfie. Zoe and Alfie," I muttered quickly. If it wasn't obvious enough, I would think the red blush deepening on my cheeks would've blown our cover. Out of the corner of my eye, I could feel Marcus's eyes on us. Shit.
"You two make quite the young couple," Karen's eyes shone with bright admiration.
"Well, I would be nothing without her," Elliot intervened, swinging and lugging an arm around my shoulders.
"Uh.. yes. I would be nothing without him too," and I felt the need to nest my head deeply into his arm to keep up the façade.
Thank goodness Karen didn't suspect a thing. We retreated back to our seats and Elliot meekly shrugged his arm off, unlatching me from his armpit grip. My nose twitched in the air. "You need a shower, Alfie." I deadpanned.
"And you need toothpaste, Zoe," he retorted.
"Fine, fine, truce." When he wasn't looking, I casually breathed into my palm, and found that I smelled totally unpleasant. What a wonder two nights without brushing your teeth did for you.
"Hey, look, we're pulling in somewhere," Elliot nudged, and we both peered outside the window. The bus was changing gears and sure enough, a hotel was in sight. The scenery had changed drastically. The land was relatively flat, and the corn was thankfully replaced with high grasses and trees, surrounding plenty of lakes and rivers. The highway was busy, and the hotel we were pulling in was relatively wealthy by the looks of the pale pink stucco and greek columns at the entrance, complete with valets awaiting our arrival.
"Alright, everyone!" someone clapped at the front of the bus. "Welcome to Little Rock, Arkansas! It was a long overnight drive with no stops, but we've reached our next overnight spot at The Fine Hotel."
People all around us started getting up and moving about, reaching for their suitcases and bags in the overhead racks. It came to me that these weren't ordinary people with broken love lives. I spotted golden watches on men and the ladies carried brand name bags I had only seen on the richest people. Prada, Michael Kors, Coach...
I guessed that the wealthy English people had their set of troubles, too. But that matter only presented a stark difference between us and them, only making us stand out even more. We didn't even have our phones, let alone any money. And soon enough, they'd see that.
Before leaving with just our gas-station backpacks on our backs, I heard Elliot mutter tiredly, "Oh, Vienna. What the hell have you gotten us into?"
*
We were huddled into the large, chandelier-topped lobby, and looking around, I realized that if we weren't on the tour, we couldn't have afforded any of this. Roses topped every table around the room, and the valets were donning full-on tuxedos. And concerning the heat of Arkansas even during March, I felt sorry for them.
I flinched when I felt someone make contact with my hand, interlacing their fingers around mind. I was shocked even more to find that it was Elliot.
"Um, what the hell are you doing?" I resisted the urge to pull away, because frankly, holding hands made me feel less frightened at the flashy things. Not that I would ever admit it.
"You're my 'girlfriend', remember?"
"Don't be so disappointed," I teased.
He rolled his eyes at me before hearing our names being announced from a clipboard. Elliot surged forward, dragging me along and obtaining our key card for our room. We didn't have to sign anything, surprisingly.
"I told you this would be easy," I whispered to him as we made for the elevator. He didn't reply, but I could tell he was smirking. But we didn't get very far, if it weren't for Marcus stopping us in our tracks.
"Enjoying your stay?" he deadpanned, crossing his arms and glaring at us.
I instantly scowled. This guy would stop at nothing. What was his problem? "We haven't got a chance to, since you're always popping up."
Marcus smirked knowingly. "Just know that I'm watching you two. Very. Carefully," he whispered lowly. Elliot tensed beside me and look at me, as if to say, this guy again?
"Hmm. I assume your girlfriend wouldn't like you eyeing another girl, huh Marcus?" Elliot retorted, tightening his fingers around mine.
"Huh? Girlfriend?" he seemed taken aback. "I'm not here with my girlfriend. I'm here with my mom."
My eyes widened before I burst out laughing. But since I really didn't mean to (really, I didn't, it was just an impulse), I held up a hand in front of my mouth to stop myself. "S-Sorry. I just, I'm not surprised, that's all."
"Oh shut up," Marcus blushed deep scarlet. "I'm here to chaperone my mom and dad. They have a lot of issues."
"Oh, really?" Elliot feigned interest, smiling once again.
Marcus narrowed his eyes at the both of us. "Whatever. I'll be the one with the last laugh when I tell everyone you're not Zoe and Alfie."
"What are you talking about? We are Zoe and Alfie," Elliot glared at boy, sidestepping him and not letting go of my hand. "Now, if you'll kindly let us enjoy our couple's therapy..."
"Why? You two seem to getting along just fine?" Marcus said incessantly.
"Why would you say that?"
Marcus's eyes shot straight onto Elliot's hand interlaced between mine, raising his eyebrows in mock speculation and glee.
I instantly pried my fingers away from Elliot's hand and stepped away a couple feet. Of course, I thought idiotically, we were supposed to be a troubled couple on a therapy tour and here we were, holding hands.
I was just about ready to fire off a defensive remark when Elliot guided me onto the elevator, the shiny doors closing in front of us. "Who the hell does that guy think he is?" I muttered angrily.
"I have no clue what his problem is, but I do know that he's on to us. And that we need to be very, very careful," he warned, his brows creasing with stress. I bit the inside of my lip, knowing he was right. After all, it wasn't that hard to keep up the act. Just the British accents, sporadic arguing, and sprits of affection here and there, and we'd be top notch. At least, I hoped.
The doors opened with a ding! on our floor, and Elliot guided me to our room on the far end of the hall. He slipped the key card in, and the little light on the lock flashed green. I opened the door, swinging it open to find only one lone king-sized bed staring back at us, almost mocking us.
"Uh..." I awkwardly said.
Elliot inhaled through his nose and plopped his backpack down on the floor. "You can take the bed, I have no problem sleeping on the floor," he said with a taciturn smug of silence, "I'm gonna go take a much-needed shower," he glanced at me hesitantly before leaving through the bathroom door and locking it.
If I wasn't so dumbstruck, I would've thought Elliot was mad at me for getting him into this mess. I tried imagining myself in his shoes. Losing his car had to be the biggest bombshell, considering how much he idolized it. But after losing his money, his dad's credit card, clothes, and the freedom to explore the states on our own must have been crushing for him. I dropped my own backpack down on the ground and started hearing the water run in the bathroom. I decided that I was a burden on him. If it weren't for me, he would've been well on his way to California by now, with his car and possessions intact.
Biting my lip, I decided I would save up enough money to get me out of this place. Maybe he was right, maybe staying here where we were vulnerable wasn't the smartest thing to do. And considering the fact that he, too, had someone he had to get back to desperately made me feel even more terrible for holding him up. I made up my mind to be less of a trouble to him, and leaning on the side of the bed, guilt rocked me to long-awaited sleep even before I hit the chocolate-topped pillow.
* * *
I didn't know what woke me up in the middle of my afternoon nap, but one thing was for sure; I didn't go to sleep with a blanket. And yet, one was laid on top of me, Was it possible that it was - no, it couldn't have been. I blinked back my sleep and found that Elliot was nowhere to be found in the room, but the room telephone wire was stretched from where it originally lay to the bathroom. His muffled voice reached me through the abnormally thin bathroom door.
No, Vienna, I thought. You can't eavesdrop again.
But I didn't really have a choice. The room was fancily furnished but it was still small, and the bathroom door was as thin as paper. I craned my neck to see the green digital clock on the nightstand blared 7:58 PM.
"I'm in a bit of a rough situation - No I know I'm not getting there as quick as possible, but I ran into some... transportation difficulty. I promise I'm on my way, I just - no, I understand, Mrs. Wilkinson. Isn't there anything else they can do?"
I found myself concentrating on the bathroom door, fixating on the lull of Elliot's broken voice.
"--Yeah, no, I get it. I'll be there soon."
Confusion threatened to lull me out of my drowsiness, interfused with the guilt that I had once again managed to eavesdrop on a private phone call of his, but the sound of the door opening forced me to fake sleep. The bathroom light clicked off. Some muffled noises and the door closed once more. Silence greeted me and I realized Elliot had left the room.
There was something wrong with him, the same thing that drove him to sobbing on the hotel floor in what seemed like years ago but it had only really been two days. But I knew I couldn't pry. Not after what I had done. It was my fault that he couldn't get to whoever was waiting for him.
I tried my best to go back to sleep, but all I did was take a hot shower, letting the water roll off my skin as I pondered everything about this unplanned trip. Unplanned everything, really. But thinking just resulted in more stress, which will probably result in breakouts. I stood in the shower for about twenty minutes, and finally came to my senses about not wasting the hot water. I quickly rubbed myself with the incredibly soft hotel soap and got out. The hotel was so prim and proper that there were complimentary pajamas waiting for me on a rack.
I pulled them on and opened the bathroom door to find Elliot back and sprawled on the floor with a pillow, his face wrinkled with worry. I stepped carefully around him and his sprawled legs so as not to wake him.
Suddenly, I noticed the metal tray on the desk, with a fresh plate of dinner; a slab of dry chicken, two still-warm dinner rolls, and some mashed potatoes. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could've sworn that there was a cup of caviar beside the plate. Turning back to Elliot, I saw an identical plate next to him, already eaten and empty.
He must have gone and gotten dinner for us.
I plucked one of the dinner rolls and let his melt in my mouth, before slipping into the large king-sized bed. Hugging an infintely plush pillow and staring into the dotted ceiling, I thought about how he deserved the bed more, not me. Not after everything I'd done to screw this trip up.
As the night wore on and the clock turned from 8:47 to 9:14, I felt suffocated by my thoughts and the warm tangle of blankets I had wrapped around me. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest blanket, hopped off the bed, and walked to where Elliot slept soundly on the carpeted floor.
Noiselessly, I draped the blanket over his bare shoulders and went back to bed, feeling the strange sensation of homesickness mixed with guilt and longing.
-
[ a/n ]
I planned to post more during winter break, I truly did, but family came over and I just found myself swamped. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I have a feeling the next will a surprise to come :-)
thank you all so much for reading, it truly makes me day, please don't forget to vote, it just takes three seconds of your time, and i'll love you till the end of eternity. it's that little star on the upper right hand corner there. thanks dear xx
- paulina