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✧➴TWO

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TWO
yes, the river knows
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CATALINA WAS PAINTING her nails when the podcast began. Her latest army green was beginning to chip and the base of her nails was exposed significantly. So, she decided to opt for a ruby red this time, one she had bought recently too despite already owning several vials of the same color. She insisted they were all slightly different and completely necessary for separate occasions. Her friend Tatiana begged to differ.

          The brush, thoroughly soaked in red paint, glided easily over her wide nail beds.  Her hands still, steady.  She'd done this a million times before, even becoming ambidextrous because of it.

        Some liked to call her vain, if they even knew what that meant.  Many repeated it without completely knowing what the word truly denoted, hearing their friend spit it out and using any context clues they could grasp to join in on the fun of teasing the odd girl out, as if it increased their chances of finding solidarity in the hell that is high school.  She liked to kindly remind them that confidence and narcissism are two separate things.

Catalina leaned further over the table, careful not to get any nail polish on her pajamas. Unlike many other teenagers, she was not a night owl. After about nine o'clock, she began to grow tired. Each Sunday, she got ready for bed before the podcast began by preparing her bag for the next day, laying out her next day outfit, brushing her teeth, washing her face extensively and stepping into her pjs, which tonight consisted of a much too large white t-shirt and a pair of pink PINK sleep shorts with full, round peaches scattered about the soft fabric.

While she didn't receive the same feeling Teagan did when she listened to Renegade, nor did she particularly favor him (she saw him as sort of an extremist), she had to admit he made some good points and had the evidence to support it. She knew her student council friends listened in too, but that would never stop her from bringing up one of his issues at their lunch table for them to mull over.

        Her eyes remained glued to her fingers in complete concentration for most of the podcast.  She was just finishing up the second coat when her eyes flickered to the time in the corner of her computer.  Renegade usually wrapped things up around 10:30 P.M. so she assumed he would be finishing soon considering there were three minutes until then.

        Although she was only half listening, she found it surprising when he introduced a new segment.  What segment lasts two and a half minutes? She thought to herself.  She didn't allow the shock to disrupt her painting though.  Her strokes didn't even waver when Adam's name popped up. Her ears only became more keen.

        "—life cut short—"

Before she knew what was happening, nail polish was smeared across the table as Catalina's head shot up. Her hand drifted across the table, nail brush still clasped between her thumb and pointer finger, decorating the wood in heavy streaks of red, not unlike blood.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew she couldn't. She'd heard it clear as day. Adam was going to die, no doubt at Renegade's hands. But where?

She used her ring finger to push down her mouse and drag the recording back about twenty seconds. She listened to the riddle, immediately understanding its meaning. Runs, murmurs, bed, mouth.  All words connoted a river, not unlike the one in her backyard.