“Desh, what do you want?”
He stopped, waist deep in frozen bracken. “I just wanted to check on you. I thought it may be hard walking the tracks, you know…”
It was. “It’s not, I’m ok. You can stop worrying.”
He shifted from side to side, unsure.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
Make an effort, I told myself. I moved to him and punched his arm lightly.
“Stop fussing over me.” I gave him a strained smile. “I’m doing okay.”
He took the smile on my face at its word and seemed to relax. “Good. But if you’re not, you can tell me. We still have a lot of things to talk about, Joe.”
I waved him off. “And I still need to pee, man. Seriously, can’t a guy have some privacy?” I laughed.
Desh jumped. “Oh sorry,” he said, and he walked away.
I couldn’t keep up with my lies. I didn’t even know what the truth was anymore.
After, I caught up with them and slung an arm over Desh’s shoulder. I joked and laughed, until soon, I’d almost fooled myself.
We camped just off the tracks at the beginnings of a black rock seam that would lead us all the way to Pau Brazil. It shone wet with rain and gleamed sharply like a threat under the moonlight.
This was our last night of being able to relax a little, and some people were taking full advantage. A large fire roared and warmed the already pink cheeks of most of the group. We hadn’t seen any signs of Woodlands’ soldiers, choppers, anything.
My head was swimming. Whenever I moved, the ground shifted beneath my feet. My thoughts were muddled but kind of clear—clear in their intention to keep this feeling going anyway. So when Elise handed me another drink and knocked it with her own, I gladly took it, drinking it quickly. Anything to hang on to the numb, almost happy, cloud I was on.
She put her hand on my knee. I looked down at it like it shouldn’t be there, but my brain didn’t care to stop her. I let her lean her head on my shoulder, and the flames warm my flushed face. Across the fire, Matt’s eyes darkened with concern, but instead of acknowledging him, I turned away. I laughed a hollow laugh and threw my head to the stars, which swirled like a tornado above me.
Her hand moved up and down my thigh slowly, in a caring way.
She stood and offered her hand. I took it. I let her lead me away from the group, through the wooded area, and up to the entrance of a railway tunnel. Warning feelings spiked for a moment, but I poured my drink over them. The heady, underwater feeling resumed and I stumbled after her, her pale hand pulling me gently into the entrance.
She tittered. “It’s so dark in here.”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and dropped my can. “Well it is a tunnel.”
The noise of my drink hitting the floor startled her and she grabbed my arms. “What was that?”
I stood facing her. She was so tall that her eyes almost met mine.
“Nothing, it was just my beer,” I slurred, my voice thick and stupid sounding. I shook my head, trying to clear it. It had the opposite effect, making me dizzy. I stumbled back, and she came with me. She still had a hold of my arms, and she was running her thumbs up and down my biceps.
“Well, at least I’ve got you to protect me,” she said. I winced. I couldn’t protect anyone.
I took a step away from her. “You can take care of yourself, Elise.”
“True, but I’d rather you did it for me.”
She moved closer, only a little air between our bodies. I took another step back and was up against the tunnel wall with nowhere to go.
“Just pretend for a second, that I need your help, your protection…” Her voice was light, playful.
“Mmhm,” I managed, rocking a little, the alcohol moving from a nice feeling to a sick feeling.
Her breath was warm on my face. “I don’t need much from you, Joe, just this…” She took the last step so there was nothing between us.
For a moment, it felt good. Her lips were soft and warm on my neck. There was no small callous, in the corner, where she chewed on it when she was thinking. She pressed me against the wall, her breasts squashed against my chest. The wet stones behind me seeped into my shirt as she ran her hands under my clothes, her smooth palms gliding over my back. Her hands were like silk. She didn’t have a chipped fingernail that always seemed to catch on my skin.
I moaned and grasped at her waist. She felt strong. Her hipbones didn’t jut out. I grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. She didn’t put her ear to my heart. She just pushed against me harder, until I was bending into the curve of the stones behind me. Her lips went to mine, and our mouths parted. The taste of her lips was wrong. I breathed in through my nose and the scent of her hair, like artificial lemon, was wrong. My chin dipped to meet her head, but I didn’t need to lean down very far to reach her. Wrong. She didn’t need to stand on her toes to kiss me. It was all wrong.
I battled with myself. The swirl of too many drinks and my self-pity was winning.
And I didn’t care.
I switched places with her, so her back was against the wall, and pulled her shirt over her head. She was breathing hard. I didn’t know what I was doing. I had ceased to be. Nothing mattered, because I just didn’t want to feel this way anymore. I kissed her neck, and she gasped. Her short hair didn’t get in the way. Wrong. She started unbuttoning my shirt. Wrong. I stilled her hasty hands and pulled it over my head in one swift movement. She touched me, and it felt warm and cold at the same time.
Her hands moved down as she toyed with my pants button. I paused. But I was fast tipping over into oblivion, which was what I wanted. Right?
Was I going to do this? My body answered and I allowed her to flick the button open, her hands dancing over my waistband.
A rustle near the entrance caused us both to freeze, but then nothing followed.
“I’ve wanted this from the day I met you,” she whispered breathlessly, which sounded cheesy.
I tried to ignore the blaring in my head. The voice and the warning. It was louder now as the alcohol started to wear off. Because I didn’t really want her, I hadn’t been thinking of her, of this at all. She was a distraction and I wanted her to stop talking, to stop making me think about things.
Before she could say anything else, I closed my mouth over hers. She moaned in approval as my hand moved to her bra, and my fingers fumbled with the clasp.
A crunch on the gravel and a loud sigh stopped me dead. “You’ve given up,” he said, just a shadow in the entrance of the tunnel. “You think she’s dead.”
My arms dropped to my sides like lead weights. Because that wasn’t even it. This had nothing to do with how I felt about Rosa and everything to do with how I felt about me. What was left of me.
Rash stepped into the tunnel, collected Elise’s clothes, and threw them at her.
“Leave,” he said flatly.
“Joe?” she questioned.
It was all wearing off now, my legs started to shake, and I crumpled to the ground. I reached out my hands and grasped the rails in front of me. “Please. I think you should go. I’m sorry.”
She sighed haughtily. I felt bad that I’d dragged her into my mess. It wasn’t fair.
“I think you were right all those weeks ago, Joe. We should have just been friends.” She patted my back gently. “I hope it’s not too late for that.”
God. I didn’t deserve her kindness. She pulled her shirt on and left.
“Wait!” I shouted after her, and I heard Rash groan. She turned around. “Can you find your way back?”
Her head bobbed. “You’re a good guy, Joe. Don’t worry about me. I plotted this route hours ago. How do you think I got you here so easily?” she said, unapologetically.