that I’m just not the type of girl Chris is into. I’m small, intelligent, and nerdy. I’m wearing a ‘Math League’ uniform. He’s tall, strong, handsome, and witty, with the star-crossed appeal of being both a bad boy mechanic and an ambitious scholar.
We’re allies here. We both had knowledge that the other needed. We’re the only ones who know what’s truly going on.
And that, sadly, is the only thing between us.
Still. I wish I had a flower.
“Emily, can we listen to the radio?” Michelle asks, setting the paper aside.
“The car battery is almost dead. I’m sorry, Michelle.”
“What about the other cars?” Suzanne asks. “There could be a new predilection about when the rescuers are coming.”
“Most of the other cars’ batteries are dead as well,” I say quietly. After that first prediction about the seven or eight day timeline, a couple of people had listened almost non-stop for further updates, but the predictions never got any shorter. Which means, unfortunately, that we still have at least another four days of this.
“Emily, do you think there’s any more food behind the rock?” Suzanne asks, flipping the paper over to draw.
“No…Chris will let us know when. How’s your stomach feeling? Any better from earlier?”
Suzanne rests her hands on her stomach, which is still slightly bloated. “Yeah. He snuck me some dried carrot sticks, and that helped some.”
Both girls had gotten dizzy this morning, and I’ve been worried about them. Though we’ve all had something to eat since the cave-in, and there’s still some water left from the cars, it’s clear that if we don’t get out of here soon we’re going to be facing malnutrition problems.
“Hey, why don’t we go check, anyway?” I ask the girls, and we get slowly to our feet. Though I’m sure there’s not going to be anything, it will at least give us something to hope for on the walk there.
The girls take my hands, and I try not to be too paranoid. Are their fingers much bonier than a few days ago? Are their muscles suffering?
We walk slowly, soon passing by the poker game. Chris seems to have left the game for the moment, though his cards are still turned down on his lawn chair, waiting for him.
My eyes linger on his chair, but one of the workmen – Henry, I think, with the ponytail – catches me. I move my eyes quickly and try to act normal, keeping my pace even with the girls.
We walk past the plumbing truck and the town car. Bernard, and I would assume Governor Rosings, are in their usual closed-off positions. The Rodriguez family, though, has closed themselves off as well. Chris had snuck them some food earlier, he said, but they haven’t come out of their van all day.
We reach the tumbled down rocks where Chris’s car used to be – and where his hiding place for food is, now – and I’m surprised to see him there. I’m even more surprised to see who he’s talking to, and I pull the girls up short.
“It’s fine, Mr. Tara. Trust me. They’re good guys. We’ll be out of here soon –“
“You don’t understand,” the old man mumbles before turning to look at me and my sisters. He doesn’t say anything else to Chris; just spits some more tobacco juice on the ground before walking slowly back to his truck.
Chris’s blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment it looks as if he’s going to confide in me. But then his eyes shift focus, landing on the girls, and he starts pulling some things out of his pockets.
“I got some stuff for you two,” he says gently, bending down to meet them. They rush up, taking the bits of corn chips from his hands.
I step closer as well. “What was Simon Tara talking about, Chris?” I ask quietly.
He hesitates for a moment, and then shakes his head.
He’s done sharing secrets with me.
“I better get back – I only took a bathroom break,” he says, standing again. I keep my eyes from shifting to the spot designated for ‘Men’ behind Simon Tara’s truck,
We’re allies here. We both had knowledge that the other needed. We’re the only ones who know what’s truly going on.
And that, sadly, is the only thing between us.
Still. I wish I had a flower.
“Emily, can we listen to the radio?” Michelle asks, setting the paper aside.
“The car battery is almost dead. I’m sorry, Michelle.”
“What about the other cars?” Suzanne asks. “There could be a new predilection about when the rescuers are coming.”
“Most of the other cars’ batteries are dead as well,” I say quietly. After that first prediction about the seven or eight day timeline, a couple of people had listened almost non-stop for further updates, but the predictions never got any shorter. Which means, unfortunately, that we still have at least another four days of this.
“Emily, do you think there’s any more food behind the rock?” Suzanne asks, flipping the paper over to draw.
“No…Chris will let us know when. How’s your stomach feeling? Any better from earlier?”
Suzanne rests her hands on her stomach, which is still slightly bloated. “Yeah. He snuck me some dried carrot sticks, and that helped some.”
Both girls had gotten dizzy this morning, and I’ve been worried about them. Though we’ve all had something to eat since the cave-in, and there’s still some water left from the cars, it’s clear that if we don’t get out of here soon we’re going to be facing malnutrition problems.
“Hey, why don’t we go check, anyway?” I ask the girls, and we get slowly to our feet. Though I’m sure there’s not going to be anything, it will at least give us something to hope for on the walk there.
The girls take my hands, and I try not to be too paranoid. Are their fingers much bonier than a few days ago? Are their muscles suffering?
We walk slowly, soon passing by the poker game. Chris seems to have left the game for the moment, though his cards are still turned down on his lawn chair, waiting for him.
My eyes linger on his chair, but one of the workmen – Henry, I think, with the ponytail – catches me. I move my eyes quickly and try to act normal, keeping my pace even with the girls.
We walk past the plumbing truck and the town car. Bernard, and I would assume Governor Rosings, are in their usual closed-off positions. The Rodriguez family, though, has closed themselves off as well. Chris had snuck them some food earlier, he said, but they haven’t come out of their van all day.
We reach the tumbled down rocks where Chris’s car used to be – and where his hiding place for food is, now – and I’m surprised to see him there. I’m even more surprised to see who he’s talking to, and I pull the girls up short.
“It’s fine, Mr. Tara. Trust me. They’re good guys. We’ll be out of here soon –“
“You don’t understand,” the old man mumbles before turning to look at me and my sisters. He doesn’t say anything else to Chris; just spits some more tobacco juice on the ground before walking slowly back to his truck.
Chris’s blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment it looks as if he’s going to confide in me. But then his eyes shift focus, landing on the girls, and he starts pulling some things out of his pockets.
“I got some stuff for you two,” he says gently, bending down to meet them. They rush up, taking the bits of corn chips from his hands.
I step closer as well. “What was Simon Tara talking about, Chris?” I ask quietly.
He hesitates for a moment, and then shakes his head.
He’s done sharing secrets with me.
“I better get back – I only took a bathroom break,” he says, standing again. I keep my eyes from shifting to the spot designated for ‘Men’ behind Simon Tara’s truck,
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