Eve

Chapter 13

The cars grew rarer as the night went on. First it was a couple every minute, their flashlights flooding the corner of the street, me filling up with hope. Nothing. Then another. Again nothing. After a while as midnight approached, it was more like one car every minute, if that much.

I tried to keep myself distracted. On the computer. My eyes would bounce from the screen every ten seconds back to the window, like a rubber band tying my pupils to the street outside.

Another headlight. My neck goes up. Nothing.

I could hear the TV going downstairs. Mom was not asleep. But I had given up on trying to have an actual conversation. There didn't seem to be much I could say that would make her less mad at me. Plus, I couldn't really concentrate on the whole 'being-expelled' thing, not while Damian said he would come to say goodbye before he left and still hadn't –

There it was.

The black sedan faded into view, following its bright headlights down the street towards my house. I threw my jacket around my body, crossed the door and flew downstairs.

Mom was looking all kinds of worried on the phone by the kitchen counter, talking in hushed whispers, eyes wide. I went straight past her.

I reached the front yard just as Damian stepped out of the car.

"Sorry, we were packing all day, I thought –"

What he thought I'll never know, because I shut his mouth with mine at that moment, and kept it shut for a good minute.

"Hi, Eve," came a male voice behind Damian. I unglued myself from Mr. Madsen's son's mouth, smiling awkwardly. "Hey, Mr. Madsen."

"I want to give you something," Damian said, pulling my eyes back to him.

He looked down and I did too – a small gift box was resting in his hand between our bodies.

"Are you proposing?" I asked, taking the box. "Because being married to someone half a country away is like my ultimate little girl dream."

"You know it hurts me that that's not even sarcastic," Damian said, smiling. "Just open the damn thing."

I opened it, and pulled from the box a silver chain with a locked crystal locket attached to it. I pulled it open -- the picture of a nose looked up at me, printed in A4 paper and glued poorly to the inside of the thing.

"I tried printing the whole face, but I couldn't get the resolution that small on Photoshop. This was the best I could do."

"Is this your nose?"

"The deal is – when I come back from Philadelphia, you get me one of those with your nose inside. Or, you know, your whole face, if you can –"

"I love it," I said, growing to the tip of my toes and kissing him again. "Where did you get it?"

"My grandmother owned it. She got it back in nineteen-forty-three, after escaping Nazi France on a steamboat. Won it from a gypsy woman with only one eye at a poker table. The woman said the soul of an Indian warrior is trapped inside."

I raised my eyebrows.

"All right, I got it at Target," Damian confessed, with a half-smile. "Still, it's the thought that counts, right?"

I smiled, looking up at him. I hoped to God that my eyes weren't showing that –

"-- don't cry, Eve."

He wiped the tears from my eye. I pulled his hand away. "I'm not crying, I just –"

"-- have a thing in your eye?"

I paused. Behind Damian, Mr. Madsen honked. "We gotta go, son."

Damian turned to me. "I'll be back before you can say zombie."

"Zombie," I whispered, now giving a big 'fuck-it' to the tears and letting them roll.

Damian smiled, pulling my head to his chest. "Maybe a little longer than that."

Thinking back now, I think I spent a thousand years on that embrace, and it still felt like a second. Felt like all the days of the year and the decade and the whole age of the universe plus five more minutes went by, and it was over so fast I barely feel it happened, anymore.

"So, the spirit of an Indian warrior, huh?" I asked, still nested in his chest.

"Uh-huh. Very powerful guy."

"Will it make me good with a bow and arrow?"

Damian pulled my head away. "Oh, no, this guy's from New Delhi. You'll be able to make a killer Chicken Tikka Masala, though."

I snorted a half-chuckled half-sniff.

"It'll be all right," Damian said. "I promise."

We held on to each other's eye. Mr. Madsen honked again.

Damian pulled my hair back and kissed my forehead lightly. "See you in a couple of days, ok?"

"Kay," I replied, trying for a smile. I cleaned my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Love you, grumpy."

He got in the car. With a nod and a tired smile my way, his dad took off. I watched as the black sedan disappeared into the night all the way to where I couldn't see its headlights anymore.

That was the last time Damian ever kissed my forehead.

Back inside the house, I was dragging my depressed, tired body past the living room when mom came rushing down the stairs in fast, heavy steps.

"Eve, we –"

"Can we do this tomorrow, mom?" I said, breathing heavily. "I'm really not in the mood to talk about how much of a disappointment I am."

"Forget school," mom said, throwing an empty travel bag my way. "Pack yours things, Eve. We're leaving."

I frowned as mom went past me and disappeared towards the kitchen. Slowly, I turned my eyes to the TV, still on.

The headline read 'BREAKING NEWS – First cases of the Philly Flu confirmed in L.A. Three dead so far as riot causes fire at UCLA Medical Center.'

Above it, aerial footage showed the imposing image of Ronald Reagan Medical Center in flames.