Chapter 3: Folie A Deux
It's so much easier to trust when you are young; the world hasn't ruined you yet.
But then it all wears you down, and you become what I am: the textbook example of distrust.
I've often wondered if civilization was more trusting when it was young, like during the Golden Age. That's what the mythos would have you believe, but was there any stock to that?
I guess there are some questions that can never truly be answered.
The hum of the car and the scattered small talk kept me relatively calm for the duration of the ride, and for that I was grateful. Yes, my thoughts were still flowing like Niagara Falls, but it was bearable. I think it was because Sophie was there with me, even if she wouldn't stop wistfully watching Steven as he drove. She seemed happy; that's what matters. Maybe one day I'll be happy like that, too. If I'm being honest, I'd settle for being half that happy, surrounded by cats.
Once we entered the park where we were going to be camping the unremarkable conversation about how in love they were ceased, and all of our attention turned to the Washington forest around us. I loved all the green; it made things feel less heavy. I read a study once that concerned city planning and how the more foliage in an area, the happier people tended to be. Maybe that was my problem. I lived in a city with an occasional tree scattered in the concrete. Maybe I needed to live somewhere with more nature.
Steve took a turn off of the main road and down another that I almost couldn't tell existed. It wound closely to trees, and in places it was completely grown-over. "This seems like a nice spot." The instant the words left her lips the car had come to a halt.
Steve leaned over the center console to Sophie, planting a sickly sweet kiss on my old friend. "Whatever you want, babe."
I quickly opened the car door and hopped out, wiggling to each side in the hopes of shaking the tingling from my limbs. This had always been the strangest feeling to me. I loved it in some sense, the way it felt like sand pouring out of myself, like I was an hourglass. Then again I hated it a bit, too. I always assumed that this was how you'd feel if you could turn invisible, like you just weren't there anymore. I wish I could be a see-through tingly mass for a day.
"Let's set up the tent first, and go from there."
When they both joined me in our small clearing I decided to voice my slight concern, "It's a bit far away from the main road, don't ya think?"
"Yeah, so we won't be bothered." Sophie's smile seemed a little off. It wasn't quite like how I pictured it in my head, the corners of her mouth used to be higher.
You're being ridiculous, Dahlia. She's the same as she always was. Relax. I backtracked as cautiously as I could as I spoke, "I just don't want to get a fine or something."
Steve pulled the tent out, and it slammed on the ground, causing the smallest jump in my stomach. "It'll be fine, Dahl. Stop worrying so much."
I couldn't quite pinpoint the nature of his smile: reassuring? That has to be it. I smiled back to him, if rather weakly. "You're right." I took a deep breath in, enjoying how fresh the air was way out here in the forest. I had waited for this for weeks. My vacation from my vacation, it was going to be fine as long as I calmed down. I mumbled my current mantra under my breath a few times, "Vacation, vacation, vacation." Once my heart rate decreased to something more human I joined Steve at the back of the car. "Let's set this thing up."
"That's the spirit." Sophie joined us, and eventually we picked out the area that was most even to lay the tent. Tents were always one of my favorite parts of camping. They are essentially one giant tarp with a hole in the front and a few sticks to hold it all up. Just some fabric and sticks, but they become a kind of home out here in the wilderness. They are a safe haven out in the elements where it feels like nothing can touch you; it's kind of like magic.
When the only thing left to do was put the stakes into the ground Steve paused. "We can take it from here, why don't you go find some sticks for the fire?"
I dusted off my hands and nodded. "I can do that." In fact, I was excited to get some time on my own out here. I always liked to get the lay of the land before I got to comfortable, make my observations. I used to do it at parties, too. I only ever went to like two, because I started college so young. I think that's why I stopped being invited back.
It's their loss, Dahlia. You are a smart girl with so much to offer the world, and someday someone will see that. Was that even true, though? I picked up a few smaller twigs before moving on to the better sized ones, and the whole time I couldn't decide. Do I really have anything to offer this world? I could try to find the cures to diseases, but that kind of science always bore me. I could try to write an epic, but what good does that do? Who would want to listen to some trust fund kid who doesn't even want to live?
No one, that's who.
When my arms were full I slowly made my way back to our secluded campground.
I was already twenty or so yards away when I could hear Sophie whispering through the quiet of the trees, "I still don't know if we should do this." Should do what? Sophie actually sounded troubled, which was a sudden mood shift from our overly cheery car ride. I stopped immediately, and angled my head so I could hear her better. "She was my best friend."
Was?
"Come on, it will be good for us." I felt my brows furrow in reflex to his words. First, I was her best friend, and now what? "She made her choice."
Made what choice?
"I know but-"
His words cut off her voiced worries, "Together forever."
"Together forever." There was no more concern in her voice. It must have transferred over to me. It must have swam through the trees and wrapped around my stomach, because now I felt nauseous.
I had no clue what to make of my worry though, so I took my hundredth deep breath of the day. Just keep an ear open, try to figure out what they were talking about later. For now I'd pretend to be happy. I'd done it for years, why couldn't I do it again?
"Hey, lovebirds," I chirped as I strode forward in bouncing steps, nodding down to the sticks and branches that lay in my arms. "Think this is enough?"
Steve stood up from the pit they had dug in my absence. "Yeah, I'll go see if I can find a few larger pieces."
When he stepped out of our clearing Sophie called after him, "Hurry back."
There was a faint, "I will, babe," and he was out of sight.
I grabbed my bag from the back of the car and took a seat in a chair besides the soon-to-be fire pit.
It wasn't a full second before she piped up. "So, what do you think?" I glanced at her and she elaborated, "About me and Steve?"
I shrugged. "I don't know, it seems kind of intense."
"You're just saying that because you've never been in love. Stop being so jealous," she snapped at me.
She'd never snapped at me before, even in my more socially inept days.
I agreed with her as quickly as I could, trying to mend whatever bridge I'd unknowingly burnt. "Yeah. I just don't know how it's supposed to be."
She seemed satisfied enough by my answer, and went about moving the various camping supplies from the car.
Finally. I unzipped my bag and pulled out the only book I'd brought with me on my trip. A Game of Thrones: the first volume in George R. R. Martin's epic A Song of Ice and Fire. I've read the books several times through, but each time I make a new note in the margin, and each time I find another detail about them that I love.
That's the thing about books… You can re-read a book and find it has completely changed. It doesn't even seem like the same book at points, because we change, and we aren't the same people who read them the last time.
I hadn't even gotten through the first line when another snap came from Sophie. "Seriously?"
I looked to her, honestly having no clue what I'd done this time. "What?"
She rolled her eyes at me. "You're going to read now?" I raised my eyebrow, wondering what the problem was with getting a couple of minutes of reading in. "It's just we don't have a lot of time."
I let out a low laugh, "We're here all week." I looked back down to the page as I continued, "You'll be sick of talking to me by the time you drop me off at home."
Then she did something I wasn't expecting. A hand reached over closed the book, her hand. "Please." She stared at me, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. Not only that, but it seemed genuine. It was only a few minutes of reading, but if it meant so much to her then I could wait.
I threw up my hands. "Alright, alright! I'm putting it away, just no more puppy dog eyes, please."
When I stuffed the book back from where it had only just escaped, my sleeve slid up my arm to the elbow.
Sophie's eyes were glued to the long red line that ran the length of my forearm, healed now but still clear as day against the blue veins of my pale skin. Her eyes widened, in a kind of horror, then darted to the pit.
When she next spoke, her words were softer than they had ever been. "Why did you do it?"
I let out a small sigh. Just answer her honestly. Then we can move on. "I guess it just felt like there was nothing left for me here."
A solid sixty seconds passed without a word.
"She said you were dead." I had to strain to hear her now. "You died."
My face drained to complete blankness as I remembered that day. "Just for a minute."
Good. Let's just get this all out in the open. Then we can be best friends again, and she won't have to qualify it with 'was.' But her next question was so unexpected that my mouth hung open for a moment.
"What was it like?"
No one had asked me that. They'd asked me why, and what was I thinking, and if I was glad that someone had gotten to me in time, but never what being dead was like.
"Nothing." Again, I answered her truthfully. "I was nothing, everything was nothing; it was just… over." I could hear the rustle of bushes not too far off from camp, so I turned to Sophie. "Would you mind if we didn't talk about it around Steve?"
"Why not?" She seemed offended, but not as much as she had been only a few minutes earlier.
"I just don't know him that well yet."
"Okay."
I expected a struggle, but there wasn't one.
"Soph says your parents are loaded."
"Yeah." I had grown used to Steve's brash form of communicating over the course of the day. He still put me on edge, but at least I was becoming fastly familiar with the situation.
"That must've been nice growing up." He grabbed a handful of trail mix and shoved it in his mouth, crumbs flying out as he kept talking. "My family had nothing. Still don't."
Sophie leaned towards him the way she'd been doing all night. "You have me."
I smiled, swallowing the rest of the food in my mouth. "That's something money can't buy."
My words seemed to click something in his head. He pointed over to me, "Oh yeah, you don't date either, right?"
"Nope, never."
He nodded a few times. "Why not? No one good enough for you?" His tone bothered me. Did Sophie tell him I was pretentious? Is that what she thought of me? Am I a snob?
I hastily shook my head and corrected him, "That's not it. I just don't see the point in it."
"Be more bleak." They both laughed, and I forced myself to join them for a few beats before I continued.
"It's just my mind is always going," I tapped my temples as I spoke, "I'd like to fix that before I go and try to fall in love." There was a lull before I finished my thought, "Besides, I have no idea what love is anyway."
"What?" Steve snorted, "Mommy and Daddy not hug you or something?"
My eyes lingered on the fire. I could count the number of times my parents hugged me on one hand, but I don't think that made that big of a difference to my understanding of love. Did it? I answered, "Something like that."
When I looked up they had inched close together and were now being far too affectionate for me to handle.
"I'm going to try to get some sleep," I stood up and smiled over to them. "We've got an early morning planned and I need my rest if I'm going to be able to keep up with you two."
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving me a review with your input on this chapter and the story as a whole. I'd love to get some critique so I can improve. That's one of the more practical reasons why I am writing this story.
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