-noah-
"No," Ellen said suddenly. "Oh, hell no."
I looked up from my seat on the couch. It was ten PM, and we had stopped in Iowa for the night. Logan sitting on the floor, engrossed the sixth Harry Potter book (he had been reading them nonstop for some reason), and Ellen was frowning at her phone with a flabbergasted and somewhat appalled expression.
"What is it?" I asked slowly.
She looked up her phone and shook her head. "I got a text... from Kate."
I raised an eyebrow. "Kate Carlson? The one who you just kicked out of the trip?"
Ellen nodded and sighed. "Here, I'll read it out loud."
I leaned forward in anticipation. Logan, for the first time in hours, closed his book and put a fist under his chin to listen.
Ellen cleared her throat and began to read.
"Hello, Ellen. I don't know if you still have my number after all these years, but this is Kate. I texted you because I have a message for you- I'm angry. Very angry. It's funny how people change, don't you think? I thought that you and Noah might have finally dropped the high school drama and accepted that I can be different. Better, even. But no, you guys are stuck in the past and you probably always will be."
Ellen looked up with a pained expression and paused. She wasn't going to continue reading it, but Logan and I persuaded her together.
"I knew this would eventually happen. I kept telling myself that it was too good to be true. I mean, of course I wasn't going to go live in Maine with you guys, it was crazy of me to believe that. But somehow I convinced myself that it would all be okay, and look what happened. But I guess it's my own fault. Everyone gets rid of me at some point, it's just what people do."
I blinked a few times, not sure of what to say. After a long silence, I asked, "Is that all?"
Ellen shook her head. "No, but... it gets worse."
"Well, go on, then," Logan urged.
"I still like Noah," she read, cringing through the words. "It might even be love. Either way, I know that you guys haven't seen the last of me. Love you lots, Kate J. Carlson."
The RV was nearly silent. I could hear the faint ticking of a wall clock that Ellen had installed, and the aroma of clean linen was overwhelming my nostrils. It wasn't because our clothes were clean- no, on the contrary, Ellen had a can of "fresh cotton" scented Febreeze and she sprayed it daily.
Logan, in the recliner, leaned back and furrowed his brow thoughtfully. Ellen was sitting next to me on the couch, as quaint and pure as a butterfly. She locked her phone and dropped it into her lap with a thump.
I rubbed my fingertips over the leather of the couch as I pursed my lips and thought about Kate. She was an enigma, that's for sure- I didn't at all know how to feel about her.
"Do you think maybe Kate had something to do with the man in the blue car?" Logan asked thoughtfully. "I mean, it's really likely that she could be following us."
Ellen snorted. "Yeah, she has a way of getting people to do what she wants. "
It was true. Back in high school, Kate was the devil in disguise, and everyone knew it. She was a nasty, conniving bitch, always bending your will and making you forget your boundaries. The teachers were wrapped around her finger, the students knew she was toxic. But since she was ever-so-popular, any attention from her was golden.
You could imagine my surprise when she asked me out.
At first, I didn't want to date Kate. I wanted nothing to do with her. But, like always, she was charming enough to weasel me into it.
I rolled my eyes and stood up. "Well, I'm going to go to bed. No use worrying over Kate now- it's probably an empty threat."
I knew that no one believed me, but we all murmured goodnights to each other and headed off to bed anyway. I caught a glimpse of Ellen taking a sleeping pill in the bathroom, but I didn't think anything of it. She had always been much more of a dreamer than a sleeper.
I settled into my squishy couch and sighed. This trip was supposed to be fun and freeing, where Ellen could "find herself" and become who she always wanted to be. Instead, we picked up a curly-haired nerd and my ex-girlfriend. And now we were on the run from said ex-girlfriend.
In all honesty, I felt terrible for Ellen. So I sat up and flicked on a lamp, then grabbed my laptop from under the couch. And I made a plan.
I was up for hours studying maps and looking at tourist attractions. By three in the morning, I had an impressive list of things we were going to do and which towns we were going to pass through.
We still had eight states to get through- Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, New York, and then finally Maine. I had decided that we were going to hit major cities in all of them, and of course I would take Ellen to the big apple.
I smiled at my laptop and then shut the lid, pulling a blanket over my shoulders and settling into sleep. I had just changed this trip for the better, and I felt good about it.
But that night, sleep didn't come easily. A thought had gripped me, a thought with blonde hair and a button nose, a thought with pure and sharp blue eyes. The thought of Evelyn.
I didn't know what triggered it or why I was suddenly reminded of her, but once she was in my head it was hard to get her out. Evelyn was gorgeous, a beautiful little angel, and I wanted her back in my life. I was tortured with the thoughts of her- the sweet, melodic voice of hers that I could listen to all day, her delicate and lovely skin, everything. I didn't even know her last name, but I wanted her. I wanted her desperately. I craved her with everything that I had and everything that I was. I needed her.
• • •
The next morning, Ellen woke me up with a smile and a mug of hot cocoa. The mouthwatering aroma of chocolate filled the air, and it wasn't such a bad thing to wake up to.
Logan was cooking eggs. Every now and then you'd hear a satisfying sizzle or a loud pop. He talked to his food a lot- "Come on, flip over," or "Crap, no, please don't burn."
I swung my feet over the couch and slipped a sweatshirt on over my head. It was cold this time of year in Iowa, and I found myself missing home.
After helping myself to some of Logan's mediocre eggs, I sat down in the driver's seat and started off to our first location: the Des Moines Art Center.
Frankly, I wasn't that interested in art. You slap some paint on a canvas, squish a bit of clay between your hands, it's really not that hard. But Ellen had always been artsy, and quite stunning at drawing in particular.
I didn't know about Logan, but I was certain that Ellen would love it.
"Where are we headed, Noah?" Ellen chirped happily as she collapsed into the passenger seat. "Bucket list items, right?"
I smirked. "Well, not quite. We're going to an art center."
She raised her eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. "But you hate art."
"I don't hate it," I spat. "I just don't see the big deal, that's all. But I knew that you'd love this place, and I don't really care about how Logan feels, so we're going."
She tossed her head back and uttered a high, lilting laugh. "Okay then."
We drove in silence like we did so often. The only sounds you could here were Logan turning pages, back at that book, and Ellen occasionally chuckling at something as she scrolled through her Tumblr.
"You know, I made you a CD full of songs before we left," I said casually. "We started it but never finished it."
She gasped, realization flooding her face. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about that! Let's listen, okay?"
I leaned forward and pushed the CD into the player, skipping it to the correct song. It was Can't Stand It by NeverShoutNever, one of Ellen's favorite artists.
Baby, I love you,
I never want to let you go
The more I think about
The more I want to let you know
That everything you do Is super fuckin' cute
And I can't stand it
"Noah, did you make this mixtape because you had a crush on me?" Ellen asked after the chorus.
I laughed. "God, no. We're best friends without any romanticism. Always have been." After a moment of thought, I added, "I made it because it's a ton of your favorite artists all jumbled together. The songs reminded me of you."
Ellen smiled. "Yeah... huh."
We listened to the rest of the song as I piloted the RV. I heard the crinkling of a package from behind me, presumably Logan digging into some sort of junk food. Rather than have three meals a day, he tended to have a long stream of snacks that just lasted every waking moment. It didn't really bother Ellen and I, but we did go through food more quickly than I liked.
I was still thinking of Evelyn. She hadn't left my mind at all that day, and I was slowly becoming obsessed. It was way more than I felt for Kate, it was as close to love as I had ever been.
"There should be a verb for making art," Ellen said, interrupting my thoughts as she doodled in her notebook. "I mean, there's painting and drawing and sculpting, but those are all so specific. I need a word for just being inspired and channeling it through art, you know?"
"Arting," I replied knowingly, trying to shake Evelyn out of my mind. "Call it arting."
Ellen giggled. "All right then. Arting."
I glanced at her outfit. She was in her typical sweater, skinny jeans, and sneakers, twirling a golden ring that was rested on her pinkie. A pair of black Beats headphones were nestled around her neck.
"Hey, El," I said suddenly. "Remember when you said you wanted to be an author?"
She looked up with a somewhat startled expression. "Er... yeah. I remember that."
"I think you should let me read some of your stuff."
Ellen's eyes widened as she looked down at the notebook in her lap. "You really want to? It's pretty bad. Well, not bad- bad, but none of it is edited and I never took any creative writing classes so it's really just grasping for straws and-"
I cut her off. "No, I'm sure it's good. I could totally see your name on book covers and stuff. Ellen Wilson, bestselling author."
She blushed. "Well, I don't know about that."
I rolled my eyes and pulled into the parking lot of the museum. It was very crowded, actually, and it took a lot of effort to worm the massive RV in there.
"All right, losers. Let's go look at some art shit," I declared. Ellen giggled and pulled a beanie over her head, adjusting the pom-pom fluffy ball thing on top. Logan sighed and closed his book.
The three of us entered the massive museum and looked around for a moment. There was art everywhere you looked- not surprising, now that I think about it. It was teeming with people, mostly college-aged hipsters with glasses and cups of coffee.
Ellen was constantly dragging me from one site to the next, pointing at everything and telling me to "think about it". One of the paintings was just splatters of different colors.
"Oh, please. I could paint that," I spat, gesturing to the painting.
"But you didn't," a hipster said in a haughty voice as she passed. I rolled my eyes and made a face at her, prompting Logan to lightly whack me.
"Have some respect," he said, trying not to laugh.
(A/N) I think I liked this chapter. Compared to my recent ones, it's not that bad aha :) I've got big things planned for the future chapters. It's going to get intense. Hope you enjoyed!