Evangeline (Unedited)

13

D I F F E R E N T
(Writers block is kicking my butt right now. Also, I'll probably just update this when I write a chapter until I am caught up with WGA.)

I guess I did have beginner's luck because once we got examined for any serious injuries by Alessandro and  Tommy (other than my pride, I was okay), I ended up winning Uno. It was definitely crazy, lots of chaos and lots of screaming. I understand why it was banned, but I did have fun, much to my surprise.

I was on my way back upstairs after many rounds of whatever board games the boys wanted to play, and even a couple of games of twister which I didn't participate in, but had fun watching nonetheless. You never know how hilarious a game can be until you're watching huge men try to stretch and bend around each other.

The sun had gone down, the sounds of crickets and other mysterious animals making up for the lack of laughter and noise now, everyone had gone to their rooms or just hanging out elsewhere. I walked up the stairs, listening to the floorboards creak under my feet.

"Evie, luciole, could we have that conversation now?" Alessandro requests as I walk past the living room entrance where he, Noah, and Theo are sitting.

"Erm, sure." I accept his invitation and he smiles, walking over to me.

He places a hand on my shoulder and walks past me, out the front door. I follow nervously.

I know I have nothing to be afraid of, that he's probably just going to tell me about something logical, but my mind isn't logical. My mind likes to twist things and come up with a thousand things for me to worry about. Come up with a thousand reasons I should be scared. A thousand reasons why someone would hate me, and tell me so.

We sit down in the same spots as before. My heart is thumping in my chest as I look out in front of us. Grassy fields of hills roll in front of me, the gravel driveway leading off into a tree-covered path to the country road.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and I feel like I get déjà vu from the amount of times I have been asked that, or another variation of it.

"I'm okay." I keep my eyes lowered to the scenery, but I can feel his on the side of my face.

I felt slightly awkward because I couldn't fathom why anybody would want to look at me longer than they had to. Or at all. Elio, in my opinion, was always the better-looking one of us. Not only did I think that, but the rest of the human population did, too. We looked the same, but something about him was different. Something in the universe made him likeable and made me... whatever I am. Elio had one girlfriend before he died, and many girls had crushes on them. Most of them were fairly nice, they had to be. Elio wouldn't have spoken to someone mean to me. He made sure I knew that, even if I never felt like I really belonged.

I belonged with him. Maybe that's the only place I ever will.

We were 11–so obviously very serious, note the sarcasm. His first-ever girlfriend's name was Nancy. She had chubby cheeks, dirty blonde hair that she always had up, brown eyes, and she was funny. She had a lot of friends, I remember. Sometimes she would smile at me in the hallways but she never went out of her way to talk to me. Plus, I'm pretty sure I caught her friends giggling at me, but when I stared back at them she slapped their arms, gave me a weird look, and they left. I didn't know what was so wrong with me that made people laugh, or stare. I didn't know why I was cursed to be the way I was. I catch myself staring at other girls sometimes, even guys, and just wondering why I was wired and programmed to be so... me.

So now, having someone stare at me the same way Elio used to—like there is nothing wrong with me, like I am a normal person and don't have some imaginary drawing on my face making me a target for all of their stares, like I have a real place on the Earth that's meant just for me—made me feel weird. Uneasy.

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" He questions. A gust of wind blows at my face, making my hair blow backwards over my head, and I slap my hands to it, trying to fix it.

"Erm, not really." I shrug and finally turn to him. He has a soft expression on his face, and inhales deeply, nodding his head as he leans back. "It's just... new, is all."

"Of course. It's a huge change, and we don't expect you to adjust so easily or quickly, Evie." Alessandro pressed his lips together for a second. "Are you excited to go to New York?"

Was I? I know most people would kill to go to such a beautiful big city, but I had never been one for crowds, busy places, or loud noises. Moving to a place that had the unofficial title of "noisiest place on Earth", and more known as "the city that doesn't sleep" didn't exactly appeal to me. Perhaps it would blend into the background though. I'd get so caught up in my own life, my own noise, that I wouldn't notice the constant traffic, chatter, congestion, and whatever else happened to fill the city along with the smells and pollution. Perhaps I would grow to love the constant white noise, the constant drilling of construction, the loud metal screeching of the subway, and the sound of cars honking and people yelling.

Elio always loved big cities and everything I listed. He loved everything about them—even the bad stuff. He thought it made them unique, and special, that big cities were the epitome of modern civilization, that more people should appreciate them for what they are—evolution. I didn't care to listen to all of his ramblings about evolution and humans and geography, but it comforted me to know that somewhere inside of me, genetically, I'll probably love the city anyway, thanks to him.

"I have mixed feelings."

"How so?"

"Well, it's very different than where I lived." I adjust my position on the chair and rub my forearms. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Chicago is loud. But I lived in a very quiet neighbourhood, even if it had its moments. It was lower class, but everyone knew each other, and most of the noise was from neighbourhood kids, lawnmowers, or cars breaking down and starting up. It was... nice."

"I didn't expect that."

"What? For a low-income neighbourhood to be so peaceful?" I raise an eyebrow and he shakes his head, chuckling.

"No, no." He denies it, though I know that is exactly what he meant. "For you to speak so kindly about it. You didn't like it, I understand?"

"Maybe." I turn back to the scenery. "But I was raised there. I think a part of me will love it, long for it, no matter where I go."