of monsters and men - carl grimes

III

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iii.

it only takes a moment
"i may dig ditches for the rest of my life"

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Enid's got her legs draped across the couch, bare feet propped against the armrest as she always takes the phrase make yourself at home directly to heart. The old musical on the screen wavers in a rainbow hue before cementing in place once more, Enid's choice. She came in from wherever she'd been today, popped out the western VHS I'd had on as background noise and put another tape in despite my protests.

And now we're hiding from the sun, slumped into the cushions as if it's any cooler in here, limbs hanging over the furniture like dead weight. The whir of the fan in the corner rattles every now and then, not really doing much but stirring the thick air around. Judith's babbling breaks through the noise on the TV, Michonne trailing after her as they step through the threshold.

"Hey." Michonne greets,

"Hey." Enid and I both chorus at almost exactly the same moment. The girl beside me stretches out, arm hooking around the back of the couch, close enough that her fingers brush my shoulder. It's not meant to mean anything, but Michonne's smile sharpens, like she's caught on to something I haven't.

"You two are always together these days." She adds, casual-like, but there's something in her smile, something that makes my stomach twist.

Then her focus shifts to keeping Judith from waddling over to Enid's feet. The kid's obsessed with grabbing toes lately. But Enid just pulls her legs in and scoops Judith up, setting the toddler on her lap, who immediately starts tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"Enid, is Adam still coming for dinner?" Michonne asks, setting Judith's diaper bag down.

My jaw tightens. A muscle in my leg twitches. I keep my eye on the screen, keep my face still, just watching Barbra Streisand manipulate society around her.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me invite him."

Again, Enid taking the make yourself at home so far she's inviting someone else over to a house that's not hers for dinner. Not that it matters. Enid has eaten pretty much every meal here for the last couple months. I think before that she ate at Ron's house. She lives a block over in a house with odds and ends of people. I think she just likes sitting down consistently for a family dinner. There's no other real reason she comes over except to extort our VHS collection.

"I thought it was nice of you." Michonne comments. "He's really been making an effort to help out."

Adam's only been around the past couple weeks, but somehow he's wormed his way into everyone's routine. I've mostly been with him in the gardens, nothing serious, just working side by side, but I notice how he always looks toward the gate, eyes lingering there like he's waiting on something else. Sure enough, Enid's been taking him over the wall with her, same as she used to with me. I haven't gone with them the last few times, and I didn't give her a reason either.

Just stopped going. Didn't think too hard about why. Maybe I just wasn't interested in seeing Enid and Adam together. Not that it matters.

It's fine. I told Adam I wasn't interested in Enid, and I wasn't lying. Not exactly.

And the worst part is, I can almost tell I'm not fair about it. Enid can do whatever she wants. She's her own person. But still, there's this nagging feeling, something about the way Adam fits into everything now. How easy it's been for him. For them. And the fact that I even care about it makes me feel small, like a kid who lost his place in a game he thought was his to begin with.