billie || billie eilish

Epilogue

I'm lost and robotic when it's our turn. But, Grace is smiling and she seems to be satisfied with everything so I'm satisfied with everything. Miss Richards has her eyes closed again and she's smiling. I try to smile. I try to feel accomplished.
I remember my words. I remember the presentation. But, I can't seem to remember having any reason to trust Ashlae. But, I trusted her.
I'm vomiting oats in the girls' restroom by lunch. Grace kneels beside me, fingers in my hair. She's a quiet little mouse. Her hands are shivering a bit.
"It's okay," she says. "I mean, the presentation was good."
Her voice is soft and musical. But, after a while, it starts sounding like Billie's. My heart jumps in my chest. I look to the side and see strawberry blonde hair. Then I'm calm again. It's not her.
The bell goes and Grace has no choice but to leave me alone in the stall. She kisses me on the head, patting my cheek and trying her best to clean me before the late bell rings for Geography. "I'll see you later."
I sit there, hiding my head between my knees. But, I still feel sick. My stomach burns and my throat and my heart. My boots are wobbly and suddenly everything feels like it's turning. I groan.
"That's what you get for betraying me." Her boots are ones that I don't recognize.
I push myself up against the stall door, keeping quiet. If I pretend I'm not there, then I'm not there.
Her eyes meet mine over the door. "Let's take a walk." She's vulnerable even though she's never the vulnerable one. And that scares me more than anything.
"Geography—"
"—finishes in like ten minutes."
I sigh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Okay." I realize that there's no escape. And maybe I don't need one.
"Good." She's all smiles, but there's hurt within that deep coffee eyes of hers. Hurt that I may be responsible for.
We take a taxi home, slipping away to the forest. The walk is long and lonely as if she's on the other side of the forest and not beside me. The wind blows through her hair. It withers in the wind, a pond afloat amid the blue. She stares at me staring at her. And I can't help but flush in the face.
"How have you been?" she asks when we sit down in the treehouse. She being insincere and I can tell that she wants to talk about the notebook.
But, I just sit there, melting into the familiarity of the beanbag. She stares, a bit sharp, fitting her hair neatly behind her ear.
"I suppose, you know," she says. "Not that it matters anymore."
I sit up. "But, it does. Doesn't it? That film could have gotten you into Art school."
She blinks, tears wetting her cheeks. But, still, she just stares at me. "That's not true."
"I'll make it better," insist. "I'll tell Miss Richards. I'll do something."
She smiles. A sad smile.
She holds out her hand to me. She's not demanding. She not being classic Billie. There's a dimness, a little like hope, within her eyes. She's asking me to choose her. Not because we were partners before all of this mess. But, because there's a person inside of her too. A vulnerable person. There's a girl behind the camera.
I take her hand and she pulls herself up and sits beside me. She leans her head on my shoulder, warm and gentle. "Let's just lay down for a while"
We lie there until the sun sets, and we are illuminated by the lights strung across the room. Little goldfish shining orange beneath our skin. We are radiant. We are beautiful. We are more than our abilities.
Billie holds her camera in front of us, finger-ready to capture the newness of who we are. But, it's different this time. It's sweet. It's warm. It's sincere.
I nod, touching my lips to her cheek. And she loses her breath a bit just before the camera flash blinds us.