Two Fish

forty six || elver

Much to Elver’s disappointment, the queasy feeling wouldn’t go away. It stuck in his stomach and he convinced himself it was rising up inside him. When he slowed down a little, Alaska turned to him.

“Are you ok? You’re really pale and you’re going ridiculously slow in the fast lane.”

Elver switched on a bright smile. “Yeah, of course.”

“Can you speed up a little then? This is kinda boring,” Alaska said, testing him. Elver wouldn’t give in. He gulped but sped up to fifty miles an hour though he was feeling worse by the second. On top of that, the rain made him feel dizzy. He was desperate to stop, but he didn’t want Alaska to think he was a pathetic wimp so he forced himself to ignore it. He tried to concentrate on the road and the cars whizzing past, but it was no use. In a desperate attempt to distract himself, he asked Alaska if she wanted to play a game. She pursed her lips for a second.

“Ok then, I’m thinking of a food,” she said. Elver raised his eyebrows and pretended nothing was wrong.

“Really? I mean, it’s a great game … if you’re six.”

“Well, you were the one who asked. I love this game,” she said in defence.

“Fine. I can’t think of anything better. What colour is your food?” he asked hopelessly.

“Er, nuh uh. Only yes or no questions. Don’t be a cheat,” she said. Elver smiled.

“Excuse me? Who said you’re meant to explain the rules before the game. Hypocrite.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same. Everybody’s meant to know the rules of I’m thinking of a food,” she said. Elver sighed. There was just no winning for him.

“Er, ok. Is your food yellow?”

Alaska pulled a face. “What kind of food is yellow?”

“Plenty. Lemon, melon, banana, er, egg yolk?”

“What? Egg yolk? That’s orange. Where do you get your eggs?”

Elver allowed a faint smile to grace his lips. “Probably not from where I should.”

Alaska rolled her eyes. “Guess again.”

“I don’t know. Peas?”

Alaska looked at him incredulously. “Yeah. That’s right. How’d you guess?”

“I’m a mind reader.” Elver was feeling worse than ever. He couldn’t take it anymore. “I really need the loo, er, we’ll stop off here,” he said, relieved that he’d found an excuse to get out. The motorway service was small and grotty, but he would have done anything to leave the hot and stuffy car. He daren’t turn down the heating in case Alaska suspected something. He stepped out and was instantly drenched in rain.

“Elver, you went to the loo about twenty minutes ago. You can’t need it again,” Alaska said, not enjoying the heavy rainfall soaking her dress and dribbling down her bare legs.

“Oh, it’s the lemonade, you know, apparently, er, the lemon in it goes down really quick,” he lied. Alaska nodded and pretended to believe it.

“I see.”

Elver walked round the building a few times, pretending to look for the loos while he took in deep breaths. Alaska stopped him.

“Er, Elver, the loos are right there.” She pointed to one portable toilet on the edge of the car park. Elver groaned.

“I, er, don’t need it anymore,” he said.

“Oh come on! Just admit it. You feel sick. It doesn’t matter,” Alaska exclaimed, flinging her arms out. Elver sighed and nodded.

“I think I had too many donuts. That chocolate cream one was really sickly, and I had two,” he said. Alaska couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Ha! You idiot,” she said, then composed herself as she saw passers-by staring. “I mean, it was rather silly of you to eat too much.”

The rain was so heavy that it was getting hard to see. While everyone else was wrapped up in raincoats with umbrellas over their hands, the two teenagers were stuck with nothing but the summer clothes they were wearing. Alaska giggled.

“What?” Elver asked.

“We look crazy.”

“Yeah. You know I was thinking,” Elver said, searching for the right words

“What?”

“We’re a couple, right?”

Alaska nodded and her stomach started spinning. She took his wet hand.

“Well, couples are always meant to kiss in the rain.”

Alaska laughed and without a second thought, pressed her lips against his. He spun her round until she was completely breathless and he was feeling better. Drenched and happy, they went back to the car.

“Don’t you think telephones are really clever?” Alaska said suddenly once they were back on the motorway.

“What? Where did that come from?”

Alaska shrugged.

“Er, I guess they are,” he said. Alaska was barely listening, lost in her own little world.

“If you think about it, though, really think about it. To think you can just dial a number and you could be speaking to some person in New Zealand. It’s amazing,” she said, leaning her head back against the seat. The rain was hammering against the windscreen and the wipers were on full blast but they couldn’t go fast enough to clear away the water. Alaska frowned out of the blurry, streaked window.

“Wow. This is dangerous. Elver, I don’t like it,”  she said, inhaling deeply.

“It’s fine. I’ve got my lights on, I can see where I’m going,” Elver said, keeping his cool.

“Please, just slow down.” Alaska’s voice was quivering. He shot her an odd look but obeyed and switched to the slow lane. She closed her eyes, her breaths sharp and quick.

“Alaska, calm down,” Elver said, but she was pressed stiffly against her seat, gripping the edge of the seat so hard that her knuckles had gone white. Elver frowned and pulled into the hard shoulder, switching on the hazard lights. She opened her eyes slightly and sighed in relief.

“Thank God that’s over. Elver, please, just let me drive,” she said, trying to take the keys form the ignition. Elver stopped her hand.

“Alaska, I think you’re delirious. You can’t drive.”

She smiled. “But I can, you taught me.”

“Seriously? I gave you one lesson. You don’t have a licence,” he started. “Or any sanity.”

Alaska was sane enough the slap his hand. “Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry,” Elver said. “Can we just get driving again?”

Alaska gazed out of the window. The rain was lighter now, the rest of the road more noticeable. “Ok. Only in the slow lane, though.”

“I promise. Anything for you, sweetie,” he said in a gooey tone, batting his eyes at her. She thumped his thigh.

They stayed in the hard shoulder for an agonizingly long time before there was space for Elver to get back onto the motorway.

“How long until we’re there?” Alaska asked. Elver couldn’t help but laugh.

“Lassie, it’s only been about half an hour since you last asked,” he chuckled. “And that includes the emergency stop you begged for. And my loo break.”

“Ok. Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He smiled at her. Her pink cheeks were framed by a messy halo. “I look forward to you asking me again in half an hour.”

She smiled at him and then scowled almost instantly. “Eyes on the road, Elver. I’m too good to die so young.”