The Company

Chapter Twenty-Three: We Spill Our Guts To A Shotgun Wedding, Shotgun Wedding

We both woke up around noon. I was so happy for that, it was my first time waking up in two weeks without thinking I was going to die or something was going to kill me or...never mind. I'm rambling. But still, I was so relieved.

"You know, your bag is still up here," Lionel said. "You left it when you went back."

I crawled over to my phone and unlocked it. "How about some Panic! At The Disco with breakfast?"

"Yeah, man!" Lionel replied. "How about some Fever?"

I pumped a fist into the air. "Oh yeah!"

The opening music started to play, and I laid down on the ground, folding my hands over my stomach.

"You know, you never talk much about yourself," Lionel said.

I closed my eyes. "Well, I'm an open book. I've told you everything."

"No, not really," he said. He sat down next to me. "What's it like back at home? Do you have a dog, a sibling, anything? Where'd you go before here-"

"Mom and dad," I quickly responded, my voice flat. "Little sister. She's two years younger. Her name is Claire. She doesn't go here."

"See, now we're getting somewhere!" Lionel said. "Okay. Claire Jones. I honestly thought you'd have a little brother, though."

"I have a big brother," I continued. "His name's Drake. He's in college."

"What college does he go to?" Lionel asked.

"He goes to a military college," I said. "I don't remember what it's called. He's training to be a mechanic in the Air Force. He's really gifted. He went here. Technology major. Incredible guy."

"How about pets?"

"A dog," I replied. "His name's Fox. He's a Corgi. I named him after the fox from The Little Prince."

"I love that movie!" Lionel said. "Do you have any other pets?

"I have a hermit crab of my own," I replied. "I call him Carlile. I'm pretty sure he's the head of some kind of hermit crab mafia, but we don't talk about that. I paint his shells, but I'm not too good at it."

"When this is all over, maybe I'll paint him some," Lionel said. "That'd be fun. I used to paint seashells all the time as a kid."

"Okay, your turn," I said.

"No wait, one more question," Lionel protested. "Where are you from?"

"State of Michigan," I replied. "Right by Detroit. It's a great little place. Nice amount of woods by the edge of the subdivision and a lake right nearby. I fished all the time back home. When I wasn't fishing, I was out in the woods doing dumb stuff."

"My turn now, huh?" Lionel asked. "I'm an only child. I have a couple of goldfish and a two rabbits. They're Blue and Coat. Like DCI, you know?"

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Washington D.C.," he said. His eyes closed a bit, like when you scratch a dog in just the right place. "None of the art schools there would take me, so we outsourced and, well, now I'm here."

"What's D.C. like?" I asked.

"Amazing. I miss it so much. I live right by the water, so I spent a lot of time there. Boating, fishing, swimming, all that. We have a little rowboat that I'll go out in to fish."

"What about in the winter?" I asked.

"Normal winter stuff." He shrugged. "Okay. What's your home life like? Relationship with your parents?"

"What about yours?" I quickly asked.

"No way, I asked you first!" Lionel said.

I looked to my feet. "Story for another time."

"Fair." He sighed, and pretty soon he was laying down on the ground with me. "Mine's pretty nice. I live with my dad. They're separated. It's not too bad. We get along nice." Another sigh. "I miss my dad so much. I haven't talked to him since the exodus. I bet he thinks I'm dead right now."

"I bet he's fine right now," I said reassuringly. "Your dad and your horribly-named rabbits are perfectly fine back at home."

"Yeah, I bet- wait, horribly-named?"

I shrugged. "I'm a Carolina Crown guy."

Lionel laughed. "I had a feeling."

"Really?" I asked. "You're kidding."

"I had a feeling," he said. "I don't know, but something told me."

We sat in a relaxed silence for a bit. We stayed there on the floor, just looking at the roof of the bell tower until Lionel broke the silence.

"Why don't you want to talk about your family?"

Way to kill the mood, I thought. Christ.

"I told you, it's a story for another time," I grumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, okay," he said with an obviously defeated tone. "I'll stay off it. Just promise me that you'll eventually tell me, will you?"

"Look, you know me," I sighed. "I would tell you anything I was comfortable with. I trust you more than the rest of Us, by far. But not my parents. I can't do that. I'm sorry. I'm not promising to that."

Silence. The silence felt like it was taking an eternity. Lionel sighed and quietly sang along to the music.

"Well she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor just for the attention."

I cracked a small smile. "'Cuz that's just ridiculously odd."

He looked over to me. "Well she sure is gonna get it."

Our eyes locked. "Here's the setting: fashion magazines line the walls now."

Lionel smiled. "And the walls line the bullet holes."

I stood up, Broadway-style. "Have some composure! Where is your posture? Oh, no, no!"

Lionel did the same. "You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger, all wrong!"

And we danced. I hadn't danced in a long time. We danced through the whole of "Time to Dance," just having a great time.

I was having the time of my life up there in the bell tower. I had never had as much as I did then listening to Panic! At The Disco as I did at that moment. When Fever was done, we put on Pretty. Odd. with the same dancing thing.

This is one of the best days of my entire life.