Elijah has spent Christmases in Florida at Cocoa Beach ever since the incident on Christmas Eve when he was 17 that led him to despise the holiday with the desire to wipe away all memories and thoughts of the dreadful night 5 years ago. He's an aspi...
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MOM: Honey, I know you don't want to respond because you're trying to get away and relax on your own.
MOM: I just don't want you to shut us and the rest of the world out because of everything that has happened.
MOM: The past is the past, we can't change it. We can only accept it. I hope you can accept it soon.
I threw my phone across the room reading those texts, the ones that I'd gotten during the bonfire. That was why I left so early, and the fact that it had been Christmas-themed added onto my rush to get out of there. River was nice. But I hadn't necessarily come to Florida to meet people and hang out at big parties drinking. I'd kind of just come here to get some space.
The texts from my mom were not the space I needed.
I ignored them as per usual. And this morning when I woke up, I threw my phone across the room, turned it on silent, and took a long, hot shower. I did the whole thing. Exfoliated. Shaved my legs. Washed my body. Did a hair mask. Sang a little. Rapped a little when Kendrick came on through my phone speaker. I was a whole raisin when I got out of the shower, feeling much, much calmer.
And then I heard the familiar sound of River calling my name at an obscene volume. But then it stopped abruptly. I took a breath, thinking that I was safe from being pestered two days in a row.
Until there was an obscene amount of relentless knocks at the door to my hotel room. River's voice was calling my name in a sing-song manner on the other side, and quieter than he'd been on the balcony.
No matter the volume, I was not in the mood. My shower had helped a little, but I was by no means interested in whatever was going on outside my door. Regardless, I walked towards the door and flung it open, glaring at what turned out to be not just River, but Elijah as well.
"Of course," I muttered. "What? What is it? Why are you singing my name? Why is he here?" I pointed to Elijah. "And just why? That's my only question."
"We need help–"
"He needs help," Elijah corrected. "I'm just here because I was roped into this against my will."
"No, we need help, because yes, I have roped you into this, but you have also agreed," River said, turning his attention to me. "As for you, I am going to attempt to rope you in, as well."
"And to that, I shut my door."
Or, at least, I tried to shut my door. A foot stopped me. It was Elijah's foot, and I just kind of slammed it in the door a little, which caused him to wince and groan before I opened the door wide again and watched him crouch down and hold his foot.
"Why would you do that?" Elijah asked through gritted teeth.
"Are you talking to your foot? It doesn't have its own consciousness, Elijah."
