Chapter 12

Elliot did what he had to do to take Mr. Robot offline, despite his fervent protests. Now he could be alone, however briefly, with his memories.

That night, in that tent, he and Angela sat there in awkward silence. Elliot had no idea what to say after…after what had happened, and apparently Angela was going through the same struggle. He wanted to say that that had been nice, but she already knew how he felt. He wanted to ask "now what?" but he knew she didn't have an answer any more than he did. While Elliot weeded out possible questions and comments, a familiar, loud voice came from just outside the tent.

"Uhh, hello?" his little sister shouted. "What are you guys doing in there?"

Elliot stayed quiet and rubbed his eyes. This situation couldn't get any more uncomfortable.

Angela unzipped the tent and greeted her, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Hey, Darlene," she breathed. She quickly moved one of the straps of her shirt back onto her shoulder, her face reddening even more.

There was never anyone more incapable of hiding a blush than Angela.

Darlene looked her up and down. "What the hell happened to you? Were you doing calisthenics in here?"

"Do you need something?" Angela asked with thinly veiled impatience.

"I need my idiot brother." Darlene stuck her head in the tent and stared at him. "Elliot, you gotta help me with something!"

Elliot really didn't feel like moving.

"Now!" Darlene snapped.

Elliot sighed and crawled out of the tent, hoping the reason for his laborious movements wasn't obvious to anyone. He heard Angela mumble something like "good night" behind him. He didn't look at her, or say anything, which he felt terrible about.

Elliot helped Darlene with her computer, then he got into his sleeping bag as quickly as possible. He stared at the wall of the tent and tried to calm down as he listened to Darlene typing. He found the sound quite relaxing.

Darlene harrumphed. "What's the problem? You and Angela are being weird."

Elliot couldn't deny that, so there was no point in responding to the comment. He was glad and fairly shocked when Darlene didn't keep pestering him about his behavior.

He didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning he and everyone else were instructed by Brent to not only load their own things into the van, but some of his camping equipment as well. Elliot suppressed a sigh. This was not an easy task to accomplish on no sleep. It was a good excuse to avoid talking to Angela about certain things, however.

Elliot worked with Brandon to get everything into the van faster. He had a feeling Brandon didn't like him, but that didn't matter. There were plenty of people at his school who didn't like him. Anyway the two didn't need to say a word to each other to get the job done. Elliot stole a few curious glances at him, wondering what exactly had happened between him and Angela, and why she'd called him a "creep." All sorts of horrible things ran through his head. While he was puzzling it out, Brent arrived, giving his little brother a hard look.

"I need money for the beer your girlfriend took," he said in a low voice.

Brandon huffed. "Come on, it was one beer."

"I don't care about that," Brent snapped. "It's the principle of the thing. I don't buy alcohol for kids. You should've said something when you saw her—"

"Yeah, yeah," Brandon cut him off, pulling out his wallet with a sigh. "She is such a bitch."

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the money."

Elliot only got a brief look inside Brandon's wallet, but it was definitely a condom he saw tucked underneath some dollar bills. Now he knew for sure where Brandon's mind had been last night. Knowing what he knew about Brandon, it wasn't too difficult to imagine him getting pushy with Angela. Elliot felt a rage inside him threatening to boil over, but he forced it down.

The ride home seemed strangely short. Before he knew it Brent had dropped off him and his sister at their home. He exchanged only a few words with Angela before she left.

Elliot knew he had to do something. He didn't want them to stay in this awkward state forever. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

About a week later Elliot went to Angela's house, with everything he had to say memorized like a stage-actor. But as soon as Angela opened the door, his mind went blank. His first instinct was to just leave, but it was too late now. He'd just have to wing it.

Angela smiled a little, appearing calm and confident for the most part. "Hi, Elliot," she said.

"I wanted to talk to you," Elliot blurted, forgetting in his panic to say a greeting first.

Angela nodded. "Good. Me too."

Then she grabbed his arm and yanked him into her house. Elliot's heart raced. He stared at her wide-eyed, hoping she'd do most of the talking. Just when he thought his anxiety couldn't get any worse, the resident male battle-axe, a.k.a. Angela's dad, appeared in the doorway to the living room. Elliot immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. Yet another person who didn't like him.

"Hey, Dad," Angela greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey." Her dad sniffed. "What's he doing here?"

Elliot tensed. Angela's father had asked the question in a friendly enough tone, but there was a strange edge to it. Then there was the fact that he was talking as if Elliot couldn't hear him, which he hated.

"We have some homework to do," Angela replied smoothly. "We have an AP history class together and it's really difficult."

Angela's dad made a small, surprised sound. "They give you homework to do over the summer?"

"Yeah, all the AP classes have summer projects."

Elliot tried not to smile. He wondered whether or not she'd come up with that lie in advance. Either way he was impressed.

Her dad nodded. "Well, get to work then."

"Of course!" Angela said enthusiastically as she started up the stairs.

Elliot tried to follow her, but her dad's hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him. He jerked his head up, terrified of what he might see written on his face. But Angela's dad was smiling, with no hint of aggravation whatsoever.

"You have fun on the trip?" he asked him.

Elliot nodded.

"Not too much fun, I hope."

I made out with your daughter and got pretty worked up about it. Elliot shook his head.

Angela's dad nodded slowly and thoughtfully. "Okay." Finally he released him.

Elliot tried not to hurry up the stairs, as much as he wanted to. He didn't want to let on how much that conversation had rattled him. What was all that about? It was almost as though he'd seen right through him. Elliot really hoped Angela's dad never found out what had happened. Her dad was already dead set on hating him, and finding out that he had done sort of inappropriate things with his drunk, underage daughter certainly wasn't going to change his mind.

Elliot tried to push those thoughts away as he trudged down the hall and into Angela's room. He had other things to worry about right now.

Angela checked the hallway before closing her door. Probably worried that her dad had followed them. She came to stand in front of Elliot, wringing her hands and sighing. "I hate this," she murmured. "Everything's so awkward now, I…I'm really sorry. It's all my fault."

Elliot shook his head. What she said just wasn't true. He was at least fifty percent responsible for all the awkwardness. Even before That Saturday Night, he'd flirted with her a bit, specifically when they were in the lake. But before he could actually say any of that, Angela was talking again.

"Let's just forget about all that stuff," she said quickly. "You're my friend, you're my best friend. I wanna keep it that way." She searched his face, her eyes glistening with some emotion Elliot wished he could identify. "What do you think?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."

"What?"

"I-I mean I want to…do what you said." Elliot sighed at his bumbling. "We're friends." He gave a small smile.

Angela grinned. "Yeah. And we'll always be friends."

Elliot stared at her as she looked him up and down. He had the strange feeling that she was about to jump on him or something similar. She'd had that same look in her eyes the night they kissed. But of course he knew nothing was going to happen, especially considering what she'd just said. He told himself he was just imagining things. Anyway, he was happy being friends with her. He'd never been in a relationship before, and he wasn't going to have his first one be with her. What if things turned bad? Really bad? Knowing himself as well as he did, he knew he'd screw it up. Then he wouldn't have a girlfriend or a friend anymore. And Angela was the best friend he'd ever had. He couldn't afford to lose her.

Angela let out a breath, relieved. "I'm so happy things can just go back to normal now," she murmured. She shifted her feet nervously. "I-I know I said we should just forget about it, but…" She trailed off with a sigh. "Never mind."

"It was nice," Elliot said, before he could stop himself.

Angela's face lit up. "Yeah, it—Yeah."

Heavy footsteps sounded from down the hallway.

Angela's smile faded. "I'm sorry about him. You should probably go."

Elliot wasn't going to argue with that suggestion. He followed Angela down the hall, and they found her dad waiting at the top of the stairs. He was distractedly looking through some papers on a small table by the railing. He looked up as they approached.

"That was fast," he commented.

Angela smiled innocently and stayed quiet.

Elliot thought it'd be better if she responded. Her silence seemed suspicious. But he reminded himself that she was adept at handling her father. She knew how he ticked. Elliot was worried he'd follow them, but he stayed at the top of the stairs. Probably he was eavesdropping. Well, sadly for him, there was nothing of interest to hear. Elliot sighed in relief as he stepped out onto the stoop. Angela joined him there.

"I'll see you later," she said.

Elliot nodded.

Angela edged closer to him, her arms out. Then she hesitated. "Is it okay if I hug you?"

Elliot smiled and gave a small nod. He took a deep breath to calm himself as she put her arms around him. He wanted to hug her back, but his anxiety had already turned his arms into lead. So he just stood stock-still in her embrace, trying not to notice that her hair smelled very nice, like strawberries. Friends weren't supposed to smell each other's hair. After a few long moments, she let go of him, smiling brightly.

"Bye," she murmured.

"Bye," Elliot said. Then he left the stoop and walked back home.

So that was it.

Elliot looked back on the interaction with regret for a number of years. He had wished that despite his fear he'd just kissed her or made some grandiose proclamation. But maybe things like that were meant only for the movies. Or people who weren't him.

It didn't matter anymore. Those days were so long ago. He was practically a different person back then.

Elliot often daydreamed about a normal life. One with Angela. And Darlene would be there too, with Cisco, and Trenton and Mobley. And there would be other friends he'd made, because in this good, normal reality, he knew how to do that.

Elliot knew it would never happen. Not unless he got off the path he was on. Did he even want to leave it, though? Did he really want a normal life? A part of him did. He'd been told by his therapist and he'd read in countless books and seen in every cartoon that you could do anything you set your mind to. It was difficult, but not impossible. He could stay off drugs. He could read that small stack of self-help books collecting dust under his bed. He could be with Angela. He could rebuild his relationship with his sister, and he would never forget her ever again. He could have a few close friends. He could have a family.

Another part of him wasn't so interested in all that. He wanted to stay on the path, see his plans come to fruition. He could deflect the blame all he wanted, say it was Mr. Robot. But he wasn't real. There was no evil puppet master pulling the strings. It was just him. He'd started fsociety. He'd come up with the master plan. He'd made Tyrell Wellick disappear, or he'd killed him, or whatever it was he'd done. He'd done all of it. He'd do whatever it took to complete the mission. His drive and arrogance burned bright in him.

Even if the normal part of him won out…no, no, he couldn't do it. He couldn't be normal. His life had become a waking nightmare. He didn't know what was real anymore. He didn't know what else he had forgotten or blocked out. He'd forgotten Darlene. He'd thought Mr. Robot was a real person, and didn't even recognize his own father's face. Sometimes, deep into the night, his mind reeled. He wondered how much of his life he'd either forgotten or invented. Looking back on the camping trip, and the time he spent with Angela…he felt more hollow than happy when he thought of it. And even when he thought of Angela sometimes, he felt hollow. Maybe it was just some fantasy he'd created to make himself feel better about himself. Because he was messed up, but somehow somebody really lovely had fallen in love with him, so he couldn't be that awful.

…Did he have anybody? What about Darlene and Cisco and Mobley and Trenton? Maybe he was actually all alone.

So that was why it was impossible. Even if he wasn't on The Path, he knew he was too damaged for a normal life.

"Aww, shit, that smarts."

Elliot sat up fast. Mr. Robot paced by the door, flickering in and out of existence.

He rubbed his temples, his face crumpled with discomfort. "We need to have a talk about this," he grumbled, his voice growing clearer as he solidified. He gave his head a hard shake.

Elliot tensed as Mr. Robot shot a glare at him. He was definitely in for it now.

Mr. Robot marched over to Elliot, pointing an angry finger at him. "Don't you ever do that to me again! I am done with the dopamine baths!" He grabbed Elliot by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. "Now, we're gonna have a talk," he breathed, tugging Elliot closer. "A real talk. Or we can talk about how uncomfortable it is for you to blow your load while the guard is standing three feet away. Which would you prefer?"

Elliot struggled in his grasp, his eyes narrowed.

"Good choice." Mr. Robot released him. "Sorry, just needed to let off a little steam there. Anyway, I'm proud of you, kiddo. Sounds like you've finally come to your senses. Hormones really clear the mind. We know that better than anybody."

"Are you finally going to tell me what happened to Tyrell?" Elliot demanded.

Mr. Robot shook his head. "No. But listen: all in good time, right? And, hey, could be soon. Your head's in the right place, so I think you're almost ready for the truth." He sighed contently. "I'm just so glad we're on the same page again. I was getting pretty worried when you kept cranking out all the Angela clip shows. 'Cause, man, seriously, has that girl ever got some issues of the daddy variety. Right now she's probably trying to bang as many fifty- and sixty-somethings as it takes for her dad to finally love her. It's not like your shit don't stink, though. You've got some daddy issues of your own, I mean—" He pointed to his face. "Look at the mug you chose for me. But, anyway—now you get it, right? You gotta stop thinking about that rom-com shit, seriously, it's for the best. You gotta get your head in the game. Also I'm pretty sure you're cursed. Let's not forget what happened to the last chick you stuck your dick in." He grimaced. "I don't wanna dredge up any past trauma or anything, but…yikes. That was not a happy camper in that trunk."

Elliot stared blankly at him. He was rambling again.

Mr. Robot grinned and clapped Elliot's shoulders. "Hey, you're looking tired. Go offline for a bit, have a mental vacation. You deserve it."

Elliot couldn't disagree with any of that. Even if he did though, it didn't matter. Mr. Robot had seen his mind and knew he was not up for a fight at the moment. He spoke like Elliot had a choice in the matter, even though he knew he didn't. Mr. Robot liked his games and his power.

Elliot felt himself slipping away slowly. And he didn't fight it. Not at all. He welcomed it.

Mr. Robot's smile grew. Then he disappeared.

"See you in a while, kiddo."

Then Elliot was gone, swallowed by a peaceful nothingness.