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chapter thirty lovers' spit
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AS THE MOONLIGHT shined into the room from the windows, Max's worry only grew. Rue should have been back by now, she promised. The moonlight was soft, as always, and the stars were winking back at her as she sat next to the window in the dim room.
Everyone was asleep; they had taken the couches and chairs. El had invited Max to sleep with her in the comfort of her room, but she brought down the offer, saying she wanted to wait for Rue.
Jonathan said he was going to stay up and wait for her, and Nancy said she would stay up with him. However, Max told them they should sleep, especially after what they've been through that night.
But it wasn't night anymore. The sun would begin to rise in about two hours, and Rue still wasn't at the cabin.
Max sighed, her leg bouncing as she looked down at the object in her hand again. It was probably the millionth time she's done it. It was the Walkman Rue left in her bag, in the car.
She had her mixtape playing her in her ears, knowing Rue wouldn't have minded if she was listening anyway. Don't You Forget About Me by Simple Minds was softly playing in her ears as she looked out the window.
"Love's strange, so real in the dark . . . think of the tender things that we were working on . . ."
Max's heart dropped. She saw a light — a bright light in the distance. It made its way between the trees, almost like it was walking.
"Slow change may pull us apart . . . when the light gets into your heart, baby . . . "
"Max. . ." A voice whispered in her mind, over the music, "Max. . . Rue needs your help." It said. She didn't recognize the voice, she's never heard it before, but it was calm and soothing — like an angel's.
