Chasing Nova

Unraveling Nova

THE LAWYER 

"So, uh, what's your name?" 

We've been sitting-- Rather, laying in silence, for the past twenty minutes. 

I counted. The rickety old thing of a clock won't stop staring at me with it's petty tick, tick, tick. 

She offered to sleep on that musty carpet, I said no. Then she said okay you sleep on it then, and I said no. Then she dared me to even think about sleeping next to her and she flipped me off and I glared at her and got into bed. 

Maybe I should've taken the floor. 

"I don't tell people my name." So, Blondie's still awake. 

I stare up at the ceiling, just as we both have been doing for... Twenty one minutes, now, "We are literally and figuratively partners in crime now. The least you should tell me is your name." 

Attitude, "I'm not figuratively anything with you."

I snort, "What, are you imagining us in cowboy hats riding into the sunset? It's okay," I shrug, turning my gaze towards her, "I thought about it too, once or twice." 

I wince, expecting a punch, a finger, one of those trusty dusty glares that kills no more than a machete. 

But she laughs. 

Laughs. 

And all of a sudden, I'm not lying in an old, worn hotel anymore. 

I can't help myself, "Tell me your name." 

The sage tints of her eyes seem to glow, cat orbs, "Nova." 

Nova. 

"Nova..." I whisper, eyes hypnotizing me, as if that was the singular word, singular spell, used to put me in a trance. 

"Who are you?" I like the way she phrases it. I like the way she believes a name is like a code word, one you need to enter into the hearts of so many. 

Swallow, "Everett." 

It doesn't sound as pretty as hers--

"Everett." She repeats. 

And she makes it sound like the angels themselves are cooing at my name, applauding the mother that came up with such a graceful expression of speech. 

I can only nod. Lord knows that if I say something, anything, I might just fall apart right here. 

So I don't. So she does, "Tell me something." Magnetic. Magnets. I can't control my head slightly leaning over my pillow. Seemingly, still so far, too far from her, for some reason-- What am I thinking? Everett, why are you doing this? 

But the image of her lips doing my name some, any, justice comes back into my head and like a dog at her command I go, "Anything." 

"Have you ever lost someone?" She utters. It kicks me off the roundabout I seem to be on... Stopping shortly... Furrowed brows from me, her glare, that built in, almost, scowl abating just a little bit... more. 

I shake my head slightly, a deer in headlights, and right now I wish I could be more of a man for her, "No... No, I mean, a great grandma or something, once or twice..." I'm terrified, "Have you?"

Blondie unhumorously chuckles, staring at the covers between us. Doesn't look up at me. "Yes." 

I say it because I know she can. I say it because she doesn't seem like the kind to cry. I say it, crossing my fingers, hoping she doesn't fold into herself. "Tell me about it."