Chapter Text
There are large periods of her life that Alex cannot or does not want to remember. Her therapist, naive that he is, attributes this to her poor adaptation to the college lifestyle.
Alex knows better.
She knows when you wake up before your alarm every day, despite the fact you fell asleep less than six hours ago, in cold sweat - it’s not exactly a healthy response to anything, college notwithstanding.
Her social media was an anchor around her neck, reminding her of that period of her life before … before she changed for the worse. So she got rid of them.
All of them.
What few contacts she has from her home town rarely message her; they appear to have learned to stop asking. She intends to spend her days in the same ramshackle, vaguely tidy apartment, in the same shitty college town, too unmotivated to do anything but work various jobs that provide about as much life satisfaction as a frontal lobotomy.
As always, Alex wakes with the dawn. For a bleary, sleep-studded moment she is awake and alive again; filled with the remnants of her dreams. In her dreams, Alex is happy - a weird feeling, to be sure - and there’s always that half-second before she remembers how and where she lives.
That second has passed now. The barren bedroom of her apartment swimming into focus with the gray light where the sun is not quite ready to face what it hath created. She lives here, in the moment between boredom and clinical depression where she doesn’t think too hard about what she’d do that day or who if anyone she’d talk to.
She’s not sure what she’d do with happiness and a fulfilling life at this point.
Alex runs through the routine that has kept her sane for the two and a half years she’s been away. She wouldn’t know how to do anything spontaneously anyway.
She’s about to leave, keys in hand and her shoes on, when there’s a knock at her door.
This is new.
——****——
Jonas liked the whole college-town experience; who wouldn’t? It was the small town of Camena, with the homecooked meals of his step-mother when he came home. It didn’t really matter if he was a year behind - life in Camena seemed beyond such things, as if time had long since left them all in its wake.
Of course, there was the Alex shaped hole in every conversation, in every party he attended; that sad look Ren would get before someone told him some juicy gossip or some such.
Life had moved on, and the old photos he looked at with his step-sister in them, she always looked absurdly happy - laughing at some misremembered detail. She would still respond to their texts; never actually send any first however.
His father - ever-full of his strange type of wisdom - said she needed space. He’d said “Some people aren’t like you and I, Jonas. They need different things, and want a different sort of life than you and I can understand.”
He’d spaced off for a moment, eyes dull and staring into the distance. “I knew somebody like that. Long ago.”
So Jonas hadn’t pried. When one of the others: Ren, Nona or hell - even Clarissa had texted her, she’d always *seemed* friendly; *Seemed* approachable, but weirdly distant, like she was on an island and they were just calling to her from the shoreline.
Clarissa started drinking. Maybe she was guilty, maybe she wasn’t dealing with her own problems well enough. The end result was a desultory college career and she’d often have a far-away look in her eyes. Jonas thought she regretted not leaving Camena like Alex had, or something.
Either way, sometimes he’d take her out - not a date, mind you. Jonas wasn’t sure if Clarissa was even into other humans - they’d drink, talk, or sometimes just drink and watch people at the bar, looking for something interesting to happen.
----****----
The bar had that smoky-tangy scent of cheap cigarettes and old beer. There was a pool table in the corner where a couple of guys in vaguely camouflaged clothing made bets and hit on the women that gravitated towards them. Jonas and Clarissa sat in an empty booth in the corner.
"I feel like we were doing this last year." Jonas yawned, trying not to check his phone.
"That's because we were, idiot; this town is beyond the effects of father time." Clarissa frowned, looking over his shoulder at the old fashioned television that's static-filled screen resembled a football game.
Jonas' beer was empty, and he signaled the waitress to grab him another. It wasn't like he used his paycheck for anything else. He looked back to Clarissa,
"You joke, but sometimes it feels like nobody here is going anywhere - like the entirety of the town is a stone's throw away from ending it all out of boredom."
Clarissa snorted, "Isn't that the truth. I dunno, you feel up to developing an actual social life, or are you still focused on not failing your math courses?"
Jonas gave a lazy smile, saying, "You know I have trouble with math.. besides, I talked to the professor this time and he thinks I'll pass for certain if I study more."
"And are you studying more?" Clarissa cocked one eyebrow in his direction.
Jonas' smile widened, "Maybe, maybe not..."
Clarissa drank in reply, sipping at her whiskey.
At that moment, from across the semi-crowded bar the door jingled open. They both looked more out of reflex, and were in time to see an obnoxiously drunk freshman stumble in, followed by a gaggle of her friends.
Her hair was dyed teal blue.
Jonas winced, knowing better than to hope Clarissa hadn’t noticed. “Fuck. I suppose we had to talk about it sometime.”
Clarissa, already on her third whiskey snorted, “The universe is a fucking bitch sometimes. Out of all the goddamn colors of the rainbow, this moron had to dye it blue of all things.” She paused to knock back her glass, barely wincing as she said “Fucking Alex. She ruined an entire color for me, because that’s *just* the way she was.”
Jonas frowned, “You talk about her like she’s dead..”
“She might as well be! Fuck, I thought she was fine right-” she hiccuped, “-right after Michael. She seemed to take it well enough. Then it’s like she up and completely swapped personalities all of a sudden.”
Jonas nodded, taking a deep drink from his own now-lukewarm beer. “I mean we could just go *ask* her. That’s what friends do right?” He looked to Clarissa, seemingly needing her confirmation.
Clarissa sighed, “I mean yeah - *we* could. *We’d* have to bring Ren, and then Nona would want to come too, and then you’ve got an entire party showing on at Alex’s door , likely unannounced. Think of how well *that* would go, North-Valley.”
Jonas snorted into his drink, “Christ, she’d probably take the fire escape out of that little apartment she lives in; just hightail it out, and leave all her shit in the dust. No, I think if we’d visit like that, it’d have to be us. She still knows us, after all.”
That was true. When Alex had done her fade out of society, and cauterized the stump of what had used to be her social life, Clarissa and Jonas had vehemently kept in touch. Phone calls, video calls, Clarissa had even one time asked if she wanted them to visit (Alex had apologized politely and declined).
Either way, they knew the most about her - even more than her mother. During their calls, she seemed polite but distant - aloof almost, as if she was hiding some terrible secret, or simply was a more private person than she’d used to be.
Jonas drained his beer. He looked up to see if the waitress was moving between tables again, then sighed and put the glass down. “We’re going to do a goddamn road-trip, aren’t we.”
Clarissa smirked, “North Valley - Jonas -, you fucking said it. It’s a five hour drive to that shit-hole she calls a town; better wake up early, cause you’re driving first.”
——****——
Clarissa’s head hurt.
Jonas had bitched out after about an hour, opting to pull over and have Clarissa take over at about half-past 5 in the morning. Clarissa was still mildly annoyed, but now, at least, she had the truck to herself.
She was pretty sure Ren and Nona thought Jonas and her were fucking.
It wasn’t *that* awful of an assumption, given how much time they spent together. Then there was the fact that they nearly had, once upon a time. That year after the *island* was a whirlwind of insomniac nights and mornings (like this one!) spent with a headache, and a blurry recollection of the night’s events. Still, they both were still reconciled bachelors, but for wildly different reasons.
See, Jonas was in love with Alex.
Clarissa had recognized it right away, that dopey, irritating way they all got when they thought they were in love. Most of them moved on when some blond in tighter pants gave them the eye.
Michael hadn’t. And now Jonas hadn’t as well.
She glared out at the empty highway. They hadn’t seen anybody aside from the occasional semi-truck since they’d started. Clarissa took a deep drought from her now luke-warm coffee, the acrid taste a balm to her. She *never* put anything in it. All that shit just expanded her waistline, and she did *not* need something like that complicating her life.
She let another few minutes slip themselves away beneath the balding tires of Jonas’ now-old truck. Somewhat predictably, her thoughts strayed to Alex.
That damned girl had so much in common with her brother that if she grew another inch or two and cut her hair short, Clarissa might stroke out. For a while, she hadn’t been able to look at her, let alone care for her like she probably deserved. Michael’s death had nearly broken her, and for a time, Clarissa had harbored thoughts of actually blaming the girl for what happened.
She’d never voiced them, of course. She wasn’t *that* cruel.
Now, - and she’d *never* voice this aloud, not even to Jonas or Nona - she just got sad when she thought of Alex, all alone out here. More and more, she was seeing tragic echoes of Michael in the girl, and then there were the dreams…
“—Fuck, are we there yet?” Jonas sounded bleary and half-awake.
“Not you asshole - it’s only been like ninety minutes since you let *me* take over. We’ve still got another couple hours to go.”
Clarissa was almost glad he’d woken up. Somethings she *really* didn’t think to herself about. Having another person to bounce things off of really did a number not only on staying awake, but keeping her mind on things she’d actually admit to herself.
Jonas yawned again, stretching his feet out as much as his long legs would allow. “Wanna stop for McDonalds?”
Clarissa snorted, “Again? You realize some of us actually need to *work* to stay skinny, string-bean.”
“Hey! I gained a pound or so a couple months back.” Jonas sounded fake-indignant.
“Yeah it was probably your ego,” She retorted. “You realize half the girls in Camena would probably marry you, given half a chance?”
“Yeah?” Jonas was suddenly cautious. “I suppose that’ll help my big headedness.”
“Don’t be daft, Jonas. It’s been obvious since you guys met that you have it *bad* for little Alexandra.” She tried to inject a little bit of kindness into her tone. Not *too* much, though…
“Ren knows it; Nona knows it; Shit I even think your dad thought you two had something going on before she moved away.”
Jonas didn’t reply for a second. Clarissa didn’t think he was blushing, just thinking over the ramifications.
“… Was it that obvious?” he said with a hesitant edge to his words.
“Yeah Jonas - at least everybody who knew the both of you. I wasn’t lying about the girls though; at least not totally. I think Rebecca thinks you’re gay, but-”
“-What?!” Jonas jolted upright, nearly dropping his phone. “Seriously? What the fuck?!”
Only the open road saw Clarissa’s shit-eating grin. She tried not to let it show in her voice: “Oh yeaah, Jeffery Eclair got drunk one time at one of those grad-parties and let slip that he wanted some of that. Well, it sorta spiraled out of control from there. Congrats! You’re basically LGBT to about half the graduating class.”
She looked over for a good half-second, getting a good look at Jonas, hunched with his head in his hands. He appeared to be having a Significant Emotional Event.
She let him stew for a good couple seconds. Finally, she admitted: “Just fucking with you.” She laughed, “Why are guys always so *insecure* about these things… Now buck up, fucker; it’s your turn to drive.”
Jonas let his breath whoosh out in a rush of vaguely coffee-scented air.
The open road ahead of them yawned into the gray light of dawn.
——****——
Alex talked to herself sometimes. She’d even slipped up a couple times and did it when she was around others. She wasn’t really *embarrassed* about it, but she figured it wasn’t a sign of overwhelming mental stability.
Other times she talked to the echoes of the ghosts.
They weren’t really there she thought. Not entirely. Just memories or fragments of them that that had stuck with her when .. When she’d banished them. Still, sometimes, when she was alone they’d show up in ones or twos. Like little children without a home, they orbited her still not quite certain or where to go.
It was sad in a way. Then again, a lot of things made Alex sad these days.
The knocking continued, and she was jumbled out of her thoughts.
She got up from her single, uncomfortable chair and walked over past the empty walls to the door. Peering through it nearly gave her a heart attack. It was Jonas?!
She felt the stab of anxiety in her guts, as familiar as the dawn.
Did she run? Did she pretend this was the wrong address? Just not answer? All her choices spiraled around her, and in that one moment fear bit through the weary resignation and Alex was paralyzed.
Then, aggressively pushing down everything but what little remained of the old Alex, she opened the door and with a face that was half exhaustion and half fond recognition she said
“Hey guys, didn’t know you were going to visit.”
——****——