Silver ||Joel Miller||

murder was definitely the last thing on my mind

LAURA

Laura wasn't stupid; her grades all throughout school could attest to that fact. So why did she feel like the dumbest motherfucker on the planet? Ellie and Joel had spent a couple of hours packing things for their trek ahead, and while Laura had briefly helped with food and other necessities, her focus was on making sure she had enough supplies for herself.

Clothes were the most important thing to her, because in the coming months it would get colder, and all she had was a light jacket. If she was honest, she just needed new clothes full stop. The ones she wore had been torn back at the museum when the building attempted to kill her roughly twenty-four hours ago.

God, her head still throbbed

Both Joel and Ellie had picked their clothes and moved on. They breezed through the list of necessary items with scary efficiency, and Laura felt completely fucking useless. She'd tried to keep up but became dizzy and needed to rest. So that's where she was, perched on the edge of the bed as she stared at the box of clothes she still had to go through.

"The battery will be ready in an hour..." Joel's voice reached her ears, but she didn't even move. "They have hot water, so we're going to have showers before we go. Ellie called first turn, and you can go next. I know you need time to argue with your curls."

She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and nodded to prove she'd heard him. He leaned against the door frame with his hands in his pockets just like earlier when he scared the shit out of her—when he looked at her with a stony expression that made her feel small.

"You don't have to hold it all in, you know. I can handle you throwing whatever you need to at me," Joel said, and she shook her head. She wouldn't fall for that trap. Never again.

"There's nothing to throw at you," she said as she ran a hand over her hair. What could she even say? That she was angry because he'd snapped at her? Or that she was hurt that he didn't trust her? Or that she felt like it was a mistake for him to take her to Wyoming? What would be the point in saying any of that?

"Really?" He asked. She nodded. "You haven't smiled since we were at the store. You've been quiet, and you've kept your distance from Ellie and I since I spooked you. That seems like something to me."

"You haven't smiled since you got stuck with me back in Boston, so maybe it's not an accurate indicator of how I'm feeling." As she spoke, her accent slipped to mimic his. Damn it. If the lack of smiling wasn't an indicator, that sure was, and there was no way he hadn't noticed.

"Laura..." He said her name as she looked away from him. "You think I don't want you around me, or that I'm stuck with you; why?"

"Do you want the truth or a lie?" She asked, biting her lip because she knew how he'd answer. The question was designed to help make clear boundaries—to draw a clear picture of how much the other person wanted to know. Joel always picked truth.

"You know what I'm gonna choose." She rolled her eyes at the response.

"You don't want me around because of what I did four years ago and the fact that I'm fucking useless to you right now. How could I think any different when you've hardly been able to look at me?" As if to prove her point, his eyes turned towards the floor. "You shut me out, but then you talk to me like this—like nothing's fucking wrong—and it's giving me fucking whiplash. I'm doing my fucking best to make this bearable for you, but I can only do so much."

"Bearable?" He looked up at her again. "Laura, I can't look at you because all I see is Quebec-"

"I am Quebec!" She cut him off, making sure she didn't mimic his accent anymore. Arguing wouldn't work if she hid behind a fake voice. "I'm literally the exact same god-damned person."