An Odd Kind Of Wonderful

Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"I don't believe in the existence of angels, but looking at you, I wonder if that's true." (Nick Cave)

Joel waits a second or two, pokes Raisa's face, and leans, presumptuous. "You asleep?" he whispers.

"Yes," Raisa mumbles. "Give me a minute."
Debatably, the train will stop in another minute and a half, but Joel smiles and jumps at the chance. "Nathan."

"Yes?" I ask, folding my arms.

"What's this?" He holds up a Polaroid of Raisa's face covered in tiny white petals.

"Where did you get that?"

I lunge forward and try to snatch it off him but he's too quick, and laughs. "It fell out of your pocket while you were in the phone box." He explains, "Do you think Raisa is her real name?"

"Yes, of course it is." I say. Strongly. I can't believe I never thought... "You don't think she's made that up, do you?"

"I legitimately do, Nathan." Joel whispers. "I think her name's something awful like Morleigh."

"I don't think she'd overall mind that too much."

He sighs. "I'm no good at this." Then, "You know, the whole boys-and-girls thing. I'm not even slightly alright at my own relationships, you know? Mum, Alice, Beatrice: Nathan, do you get that? Are you always confused, or am I just socially terrible?"

"Don't worry," I say. "I get that too."

"I think it's just a male teenager thing."

"I think you're onto something there, Joel."

He grins at me, full of teeth. Raisa makes a noise half between a snore and a meow.

"Did you hear that?" Joel whispers, snickering. I look down at her.

"She's like a kitten."

"Fuck off," Raisa says, and Joel and I both burst into laughter, and the muttering guy gives us a glower, but I'm delighted to find I don't really care.

-

Raisa yawns, "When are the fireworks?"
We're still standing on the edge of the train platform, not over the yellow line, but Joel's foot is, almost. "Midnight," I say. "Like they always are."

"Do you have new century's resolutions?"

Joel is quick to answer, "Attempt to give up smoking." But although he sounds strong, it isn't the new century just yet, so he fishes a cigarette out of a pocket and lights it, smoke dwindling in the air long after he's breathed it out.

"Good luck." I salute him.

"What about you?" Raisa asks.

I shake my head. "You first."

"Okay." Raisa whines, like a child devoid of its favourite toy. "I want to write a movie."

"Really? When did you decide this?"

"A couple hours ago," she says. "I actually think I'd be alright at it. And I would work on the set as well, maybe do a few Hitchcock-type cameos."

"I could direct it." I butt in.

"I could write the soundtrack." Joel says.

Raisa smiles smugly. "Seems we've got an entire company ready for action."