I'm Not Dead

Chapter Eighteen

Laura is starting to crave things, which makes my life difficult. Also she's started to show, which makes her life difficult. She's told her brother, he didn't take that news well. He actually got so pissed that he's refused to talk to her.

So, now, Laura is kind of depressed.

"He's my brother, Elliot."

"Laura, he'll come around." Theo said, trying to comfort her. "My brother would eventually talk to me again."

"Theo, you're a dude. You'd never end up in this situation." Laura, said, holding her stomach.

I've thought about asking Laura to marry me. I'm not sure what'd she say though, if I ever actually asked. A shotgun wedding isn't usually preferred. Also we're young.

I looked at Laura's hands, resting lightly on her stomach.

I love her.

"Elliot. Elliot!" Theo snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"Huh?" I had zoned out.

"Laura asked you a question."

I looked at Laura. She sighed. "Have you thought about any names?" She fiddled with the hair tie on her wrist.

"Oh. No, not really. Have you?"

"Well, I want him or her to have a family name. So, if it's a boy he'll have to have Beck somewhere in the name, and if it's a girl Ruth. But I really hate the name Ruth so if we don't go along with that I'll be okay."

"Beck like the band?" Theo asked. "Someone cane in sayin' I'm insane to complain/ about a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt... 'cause I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?"

"Theo." Laura scolded. "Beck is also a name."

"I like Charles." I said. Laura made a face. "Devon?" She shook her head. "Oliver." She again shook her head. I sighed. "Then what name do you like?"

She shrugged. "Samuel."

I shook my head. "What about..."

"Who was that guy who was stabbed by his friend? Like the salad?" Theo asked, interrupting.

"Julius Cesar?" Laura offered.

"Yeah, but the other Cesar."

"Augustus?" I asked.

"Yeah. Name the kid Augustus."

Laura looked at me and I looked at her, both of us probably putting the two names, Augustus and Beck, together in our heads. Laura smiled. "I like it."

"Augustus Beck Finnley-Vaughn." I said, almost to finalize it.

"No, Augustus Beck Vaughn-Finnley." She said. "It flows better. And that's only if it's a boy."

"But it is going to be a boy."

Laura didn't argue.

I stepped outside and was greeted with more of the same: pitchforks, torches, angry villagers. At least the 21st century equivalent of them: signs, banners, angry townspeople.

The churches were banning together to fight against Helliot, to rebel and keep the kids safe from this demon-thing. I am a menace. The house has been egged countless times and spray painted with gospel, trying to redeem my soul from this evil. Their signs conflict with other signs. Some are trying to save me, others are telling me to go back to the fiery hell I came from.

I leave the house to get into Theo's car—we carpool to school, trying to save the environment—and it may just be the longest walk ever.

Holy water rains down on my head while spit falls on my shoes. By the time I reached Theo's car, my sneakers are shining with other people's spit and my hair is damp.