Chapter 29
Ophelia
A few hoursin and Lanston is drunk, singing on the small stage with Jericho’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. The two of them sway, each with a beer in hand.
Yelina makes it back to our corner table and slides another cup of draft beer toward me.
“I’ve never seen him so… himself,” she says as she leans back in the booth. She sighs, shaking her head at the two men as they start singing the next song, “Oh, What a Life”by American Authors.
Lanston’s drunken eyes meet mine and he grins at me like he’ll never look away.
“Really? What’s different?” I ask without breaking my gaze on him.
Yelina laughs and props her elbows on the table. “Him singing? Are you kidding me?” She takes a swig from her mug. “I think he’s got it bad for you. The question is, how do you feel?”
That grabs my attention. I look over at her and find analyzing eyes. Yelina’s chin is perched on her palm, elbow against the table as she smiles at me.
I take a moment. I love him. More than a heart could bear, I love him. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, in a partner to traverse the cold world with. Side by side, we wade through the dark.
Yelina smiles as if she can read my thoughts and says, “What’s keeping you from telling him?”
“This is going to sound stupid, but I’m not deserving of someone like him. I can’t follow him into what lies after like we’re planning.” My lips feel cold as the words come out. I haven’t told him this, and I’m not sure why I feel so comfortable to discuss it with Yelina. But part of me just needs someone else to know.
Her head tilts and she frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not going where good people go… and he is.” I leave it at that.
She stares at me for a long moment. The laughter in the bar is quieter now; the evening has stretched into the late hours.
“You’re right.”
I meet her gaze once more. “Hm?”
“That is stupid. You’re the one who’s been babbling on about how it’s not too late to do things. Fix your fucking faults then. He cares about you, and I’m sick of the excuses.” Yelina’s voice is devoid of warmth and I’m shocked for a moment.
She’s not wrong.
Can I fix them, though? My sins?
My eyes flick back to Lanston and Jericho as they make their way back to our table on swaying legs. The biggest grin I’ve ever seen is plastered on his lips. His laugh twists inside me.
“You’re right,” I say. Yelina sighs and tilts her drink back, finishing it off. A mischievous grin spreads over my lips. “What about you and Jericho? You two have eyes for each other, don’t you?”
She spits her drink all over the table and starts cough-choking. I laugh as the boys slide into the booth, their faces bright with joy.
Jericho looks between the two of us. “What’d we miss? You two look like you’re up to trouble.” He’s trying to hide his laugh beneath his hand as Yelina tries to clear her airways.
She shoots me a death glare and mouths, “Not a word.”
I shrug. “Oh, nothing, just some girl talk.”
Lanston presses close to me, wrapping his arms around my center and resting his head on my shoulder. He nuzzles into my neck and says on a whiskey breath, “I missed you.”
I lift my hand and press my palm to his cheek. He turns his face to my hand and adorns my skin with kisses. Oh, how I’ll cherish these nights forever. An eternity with him would never tire my soul.
“How can phantoms be drunk?” I laugh, trying not to let his under-the-influence sweet talk get too much to my head.
Jericho wraps his arm around Yelina and her cheeks flush red. She says, “Who knows? Do you have to question everything that’s fun?”
Lanston shushes her and straightens beside me. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a curious mind.”
Yelina glowers at him. “I think it’s one of my better qualities that I don’t.”
Jericho chuckles beside her. “Must you two always fight?”
The three of them continue to shoot sarcastic words at each other and I sit silently, enjoying the sound of friendship and lively chatter. It’s something that’s been absent from my life—friendship and goodwill.
It’s not too late to have it now.I remind myself, willing myself to smile and join in on the banter.
The four of us laugh and spill drinks, sharing stories of our adventures so far until the bar closes and every living person vacates the building. We stay long after, singing and talking until the sun rises and we’ve grown weary.
“Where are you meeting us in Paris?” I ask Yelina in a hushed voice. The two men are leaned over the bar counter, sleeping heavily. The corners of my mouth turn up as I watch Lanston’s peaceful expressions. His mind seems so weightless.
Yelina draws in a long breath. “Where did you say you were performing?”
“Palais Garnier.”
“We’ll be sure to be there. We can pick up where we left off here and drink our ghostly woes away until the dawn comes for us.” She smiles playfully. A curl of smoke lingers over her shoulders, wisping away in the ray of sunlight just as quickly as it appeared. I’ve already seen their traces, and yet it still draws sadness to my heart.
“Do you remember anything about the night you died?” I ask carefully, keeping the expression on my face blank.
Yelina drops her head to look at her feet. Her eyes are bright with memory, and her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail that rests over her shoulder.
“I remember everything about that night.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. “The fire that burned my flesh and the pain that hollowed out my thoughts. Smoke killed most of us before the flames did. A small grace.” Her voice is stony. Then she looks at me. “I remember reading about you… Does he know?”
My veins fill with ice at her admission. She knows.
I shake my head and glance over to Lanston, still sleeping peacefully.
“Will you tell him?”
I nod. “We are telling our stories slowly… in our own way.”
Yelina thinks about that for a few quiet minutes before murmuring, “I hope you tell each other everything you couldn’t say when you were alive.”
Our goodbyes are brief. We know we’ll see them in a week or two in Paris. Still, the sight of them leaving, holding hands and bumping into one another playfully, tugs at my heartstrings. I already miss them.
Lanston looks up to the clouds above, bruised and promising rain. Our bistro table is under a red awning, but if the wind picks up, it won’t be enough to keep us from getting wet.
I scoop up the last piece of the scone and chase it with a sip of hot tea, humming with delight at the flavors. They don’t make their pastries as sweet as they do in the States, but that doesn’t make them less enjoyable.
“What’s next on the list?” Lanston asks, sounding far-off in thought as he watches people go about their days.
I grab the list from his bag beside me and hold it up.
Lanston Ophelia’s Bucket List
Go to Paris
Sail a yacht
Ballroom dance
Drink on the beach at night/camp out
Ride a train somewhere new
Visit Ireland’s Trinity College Library
Save a stray plant
“Drink on the beach under the stars, Paris, and the ballroom dance.” My fingers curl around the page. Is that all that’s really left? I don’t want our time together to end. I suck my lower lip in and try to stay positive. “And saving a stray plant.”
Lanston sips his chai latte before looking at me with ideas springing to his mind, his smile as endearing as it always is.
“Let’s camp on the beach next. I know the perfect way to get back across the island too.” His smirk is loose and childish. It only takes a few moments for me to figure out what he’s alluding to.
“You’ve found a motorcycle haven’t you?”