With You Always
Nearly two months had passed since that bleak day. She still remembered every detail with blistering clarity – the growl of the engine, the lurch of the massive camper as she stomped on the touchy gas pedal. Becca's desperate pleas from the back, hanging unanswered in the tense air. The fact that she had sped right past the 18-wheeler that held her closest friend captive, leaving her behind with a man who wanted her dead.
They could have stopped. She could have stopped. She could have even pretended she was going to kill Stephanie, ultimately grabbing her and bringing her along. But she didn't. In that time of crisis, she thought only of herself and her sister. The safety of others, even those she'd loved, fell to the wayside as she smashed her way out of their fortress of paranoia.
She'd carry that guilt with her to the grave.
"C'mon, Sis." Becca appeared at Shel's side, urging her for the umpteenth time to join the group around the campfire. "Tonight Bonnie's gonna tell us about the time she clocked that old lady with a rebar." The young teen snickered, clearly amused by the concept.
The past few nights had been especially difficult. Shel had been thinking back way too much, reliving that scene over and over, coming up with different solutions she could have enacted. And in-between those sorrowful rehashes, she'd occasionally let herself slip back into the silken memories of the time before. The strong, wiry arms around her waist. The tickle of burying her face in that greasy black hair. The cold nights they spent curled up together, practically cheek-to-cheek under the same tiny emergency blanket.
Every time she let herself slip under the spell of those times long past, it grew increasingly harder for her to pull herself out of them.
"Maybe later, Becca." She waved her sister off, continuing her recently-developed pastime of sitting alone at the edge of camp and scratching at the dirt with a stick. She liked to create abstract patterns in the soil. Becca liked to come over afterward and scuff her shoes across them.
Becca crouched down beside her, wrapping her fingers around the stick to stop Shel from dragging it. "Are you okay?" Her question, though coarsely asked, was underscored by just a hint of genuine concern. "You've been actin' weird lately. And I'm not the only one who's noticed."
Shel let go of the twig, lowering her eyes. Becca remained focused on her, waiting for an answer.
After a long silence, Shel swallowed and lifted her head. "Do you think we were wrong to leave without her?"
Becca cocked a brow. "Without who?"
She tried to mask her cracking voice. "Stef."
The girl's name hovered in the air long after she spoke it.
"What? Hell no! She was a thief. We don't need her stealing our shit."
"She was more than just 'a thief'." Shel snapped. "You know that."
"More to you, maybe." Becca broke the stick in half, tossing it aside. "Who cares, anyway? She's dead."
A pang of sorrow stung Shel's heart. She thought again of her, of the last time she'd lain eyes on that sweet face. Stephanie had always wanted what was best for everyone. After they had let that bandit go free, Stef had approached her privately and commended her for maintaining her humanity. That's what I love about you, she'd said. You still have such a good heart.
They had celebrated that intact humanity with a later exchange of the most human thing they could think of. It was beautiful, so chaotic and exciting and perfect. That night signified a change in Shel. For the first time in her life, she allowed someone other than Becca to pierce her heart and take up residence within its tender walls. It was a permanent move.
"I'll join you all in a little while." Shel murmured. Becca rolled her eyes, hopping to her feet and trudging away.
Shel glanced down at the scuffed patterns in the soil. Those early mornings, when they'd rise at dawn to hunt and scavenge, Stef's gentle voice had been the one to rouse her. And after one especially-bad night, she'd woken Shel with a few quiet strums of her guitar instead. She had smiled down at her, humming along with the makeshift tune.
Morning, sunshine.
Shel blinked away the beginnings of tears. That void in her heart would never be filled. Nothing she could ever do would change the fact that she left Stephanie behind without a second thought. She abandoned her lover and friend. Stephanie's blood was on her hands.
"Don't cry, Shellie." A cold, pale hand came to rest on arm. "I don't blame you."
Shel wiped her eyes, lifting her gaze to the girl beside her. She looked just the same as the last time Shel had seen her. Her crystal-blue eyes were still just as bright and lively as ever, her smile just as warming. She gave Shel's arm a delicate squeeze, radiating a surge of cold air from her fingertips.
"You're not really here." Shel whispered, drawing away.
Stef nestled in beside her, rubbing her cheek against Shel's' shoulder. She felt like a breeze, like nothing.
"I miss you, Shel."
Lacking the will to hold them back any longer, Shel let the tears begin to leak down her face. She buried her face in her hands, her cries dissolving into sobs.
"I miss you too, Stef..."
Becca sat down beside the fire, between Bonnie and Wyatt. Bonnie had originally left some space for Shel, but Becca told her to forget it. She could tell her sister was having another one of those mopey nights.
"What's up with Shel lately?" Wyatt poured his share of watery tomato soup from a banged-up can straight into his mouth, then passed the can to Becca. "She okay?"
Glaring at him, Becca spooned her share out onto a chipped china plate, part of the set they'd found in the camper's cabinet. "She's fine." She hated the idea of the other survivors thinking the two of them were weak links. She put up a tough front. Why couldn't Shel?
Wyatt peered over his shoulder. They could all clearly see Shel at the edge of the camp. She was seated all alone on a rotting stump, slumped over with her head in her hands. Her shoulders were heaving, giving away exactly how she was feeling.
Bonnie frowned. "Maybe y'all should go check on her."
"She's fine." Becca tossed the near-empty can to the other woman, refusing to look her way.
Shel lifted her head, scooting over to one side of the tiny stump. She seemed suddenly fixated on something beside her. Knowing Shel, it was probably a bug she didn't want to accidentally squish.
"See, look." Becca waved her arm in her big sister's direction. Shel looked to be almost smiling then, reaching out to whatever she was fixed on. "She's totally okay."
"You sure?" Wyatt wiped his mouth, still staring over at Shel. "I know she's been kinda down lately."
Shel wrapped her arms around some invisible thing, pulling it close to her. She was murmuring something soft and inaudible, running her fingers through the air like she was spinning wool. Becca noticed her eyes were closed most of the time.
"Ugh, whatever." Her behavior had been a little disconcerting of late. "I'll go check on her if it'll shut you guys up."
Stephanie's body was cold in Shel's warm arms. They were perched side-by-side on Shel's improvised seat, Stef nuzzling her like an affectionate kitten. Shel combed through her scruffy black hair, trying to remember the familiar scents and sensations those acts used to bring with them.
"See?" Stef laid a hand on Shel's cheek, tracing the path of her last teardrop with the cold pad of her thumb. "Crying doesn't help anything."
Shel sniffled, trying to breathe normally again. "It'd be easier not to cry if you were still here, Steffie."
"I know. I wish I could be."
The two girls leaned together, gazing out into the darkness of the forest.
"It's getting harder to picture you." Shel said.
As much as she had gazed upon the other girl over the course of those few months, after only a few short weeks the details of her lover's face were already beginning to dim in her memory. She had seen so much, and it had taken its toll on her ability to remember details. She'd learned to block most things out, and that unfortunately included faces and small details.
Stephanie smirked. "All those drugs you've been taking."
"Oh, yeah." Shel's tone was flat. "Blaze it."
A yellow-sleeved arm shot its way through Stef's stomach, grabbing Shel by the fabric of her shirt. Her daydream broken, the illusion of her lover vanished, leaving Shel seated by herself.
"Shel, come on." Becca gave a rough tug in the direction of the campfire. "You're acting like a weirdo."
"...Sorry." She stood up and brushed the wood chips off her pants. "I was just thinking."
Becca's hardened eyes searched Shel's for a moment. Then her expression softened just a bit. "I know you miss her, Sis. I guess...I kinda do, too."
The confession surprised her. Becca was never so upfront about her feelings.
Shel glanced over at the fire. Everyone seemed to be busy talking – no one was paying attention to them.
"Can I tell you something?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure."
Chewing her lip, Shel scrambled to properly vocalize her thoughts. "I...I like to pretend I'm talking to her sometimes. It makes me feel better about everything."
"Oh. So that's what you were doing."
"You could hear me?" Her face flushed a little. She raced to remember exactly what she'd been saying.
"Kinda, yeah." Becca raked her hand through her mop of hair. "That and you were, uh, makin' a lot of hand gestures."
Shel's blush deepened. She'd never explicitly told Becca what she and Stephanie had shared. She often wondered how much the young girl could guess about them.
"You know, it doesn't really matter now, but..." She exhaled. "I really cared about her."
"Well yeah, no shit."
"I mean, I really did. We both cared about each other. A lot."
"If you're hinting at something here, I already know." Becca rolled the joints in her shoulders, stretching idly.
Shel froze. "You do?"
Becca pulled a face. "Those diner walls weren't exactly soundproof."
"Becca!" By that point, her face was absolutely burning.
"Hey, it's not my fault you're noisy as hell."
Shel massaged her temples, trying to hide her scarlet blush. Maybe Becca was joking. Hopefully she was joking.
"I'm sorry, Becca. I didn't know – god, this is so embarrassing."
"Oh, whatever. It's the end of the damn world. Screw whoever you want." She tugged Shel again. "Now come tell campfire stories for everyone. I know we've got some good ones."
Shel took a deep breath, glancing briefly back toward the forest. Maybe Stephanie was still alive. Maybe she escaped, and was out there somewhere. Waiting for her.
She conjured up the likeness of her lover one final time. Stephanie slung her arms around Shel's malnourished waist, sending a warm tingle throughout her body.
"I'll always be here for you," she whispered.
Shel tried to feel content with that. It was a coping strategy, pretending her lover was still with her. It would never make up for the loss of the real girl. Stef had just slipped up once, one single mistake. And she'd been stolen away because of it.
Maybe she'd tell the new group some stories about her. They'd done so many silly things together. Like the time they'd gone searching the cornfields for their missing supplies, and ended up getting lost in the tall plants for hours. Or the time they accidentally destroyed one of their garden's tomato plants, and Stef chucked Shel's juice-stained shirt over the fence to avoid the two of them getting blamed for it. They'd had so many laughs together, more than she would've thought possible in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
I want to keep her memory alive.
"All right," Shel decided. "I'll come over."