The Tortoise and His Sunrise | ✓

22. Promise

"Why did you give him your real name?!" I hissed once we were back onto the main street where several other people were milling about.

He ushered me across the street and pulled me down the sidewalk. It took me a moment to register that he was holding my hand, but I was too riled to care that he was doing that in plain sight.

He shrugged. "It's not my full name. In all honesty, does it really matter? If nothing changes, I'd have to change my last name another twenty times. If he's lying about the sunshine cure, I wouldn't be here anyway."

The flippancy in his tone rubbed me the wrong way.

"Excuse me?" The words ripped out of my throat with a shrill undertone. "Does it matter? Does it matter that you'll die if he's lying? Are you kidding me right now, Nolan?"

"Chelsea, relax," he said. "It's not that big of a deal."

The fury that was racing through my veins froze into ice-cold dread at the dull expression on his face.

"What do you mean, it's not a big deal? Aren't you the one taking things too lightly? We're literally talking about your death here."

He let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand over his hair.

"He was right, okay? I don't want to live like this. I haven't for a while."

"What are you saying?" I whispered, knowing full well what he meant.

I didn't want to hear about it. At the same time, I knew that burying my head in the sand wouldn't change anything. Fear clouded my mind.

The silence we were tied into for the rest of our ride back ate at my frayed nerves.

----------------------------------------------------

Forcing the corners of my lips up into a stiff smile, I stared at my giant eyebags in the mirror. I closed my eyes in resignation. There wasn't anything I could do about it.

I couldn't sleep well last night. It had only been a day since we saw Sierra and met Sylvan, but I already had to go home.

Mom and Dad wanted to see me for at least a week during winter break, so I had a plane to catch this morning.

Nolan couldn't see me off since the sun was up and bright, but I wanted to at least say goodbye to him before I left. He'd made me promise to wake him up before I left. I swung my large duffel bag over my shoulder and left the guest room Mr. Lawson had kindly offered to me for my short stay here.

I padded across the carpeted hall to Nolan's room.

Not bothering to knock, I pushed down on the door handle and opened the door. As heavy of a sleeper as Nolan was, he wouldn't wake up to rapping on the door, no matter how loud it was.

His room was dark as usual, courtesy of the heavy black curtains that were drawn over his window. Nolan's room decor here was as minimal as his college dorm room—there was a wardrobe, study desk with a set of drawers underneath, a tall cabinet with sliding glass doors that doubled as a bookshelf for him, a bed, and a nightstand with no lamp on it.

Unlike my own room back home, there were no animal plushies to be found, no ornaments or memorabilia decorating his desk or cabinet or walls. The only thing that looked out of place in this immaculate room was the pair of binoculars resting right smack on the middle of his white study desk.

I laid eyes on his sleeping form, covered from head to toe by a large gray comforter, on the bed.

"Good morning," I sang, dropping my bag to the floor and striding towards him. "Nolan!"