Exile

The Quest

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This is a longer chapter - over 5,000 words.  Just be warned, you might want to grab a snack, get some water, and turn off the phone before reading!  Thanks for your support! - M.N.

My eyes are glued to the stark white ceiling of my bedroom. I've stared at this ceiling so hard that my eyes are going blind, albeit temporarily.

It's better than staring at the glossy black cell phone beside me on the nightstand. So, I knowing choose blindness.

Sleep didn't come easy last night. My bed sheets are all rustled from my tossing and turning. Every time I work up, my eyes made a beeline for Alex's cell phone and when I did fall asleep, I dreamt of – you guessed it – his cell phone. Thank goodness I turned it off, or I'd have really lose my mind over the damn thing.

Day four of thirty isn't turning out the way I'd hoped it would.

I wonder if I'll really be able to rest today. The odds are not in my favor – I have to return this cell phone to Alex, and I'd like to do it as soon as possible. The thing is, I'm dreading getting out of this bead and traveling over there. It's not due to the passage of time – according to Andrew, his parents still love me and they hope to see me at one point or another.

It's just a well-known fact that you don't willing choose to enter the territory of the very person you hope to keep away from.

I pull my violet comforter over my head. I was looking forward to being alone, but now, I wish I had someone like Emily, Kenzo, or even Benji with me right now. It's easier to avoid the truth when you are properly distracted but downright impossible when you're all by yourself.

Maybe if I head over there in an hour or so, I can drop it off without detection. Emily mentioned last night that Alex had to work today. If I get there early, I can just drop it off with his mom or something. I could exchange pleasantries and be out the door before he ever leaves work.

Sounds like a plan. Now, if only I could find the motivation to get out of bed. My parents headed off to work a while ago – my dad is a Math instructor at a community college and my mom works administration at Northwestern Hospital – so I'm here all by myself.

All right, Elodie, it's time to get up. The sooner you get this done, the better off you'll be.

I put "Barbra Streisand" by Duck Sauce on full blast and get my day started. After having a warm shower, Tom Skilling on the TV cheerily states that today will be spring-like, in the mid-to-upper 70s. Fabulous. Armed with such vital information, I decide to get dressed opting for a light blue cashmere cardigan, a flowing white peasant top, dark wash demin flare jeans, and turquoise sandals.

I have a look at myself in the mirror. I look really nifty…but it's missing something. I scramble to figure out what it is. I pull my hair back, I try putting on a bangle or two, and I even put on a cocktail ring. Nothing works. I stand in the mirror in confusion when an idea pops into my mind.

A scarf! That's what I need. A boho vintage look isn't complete without a scarf.

But wait…do I even have a scarf?

Yes…I do, but…I'm not so sure if I should wear it.

I walk over to my nightstand. My footsteps are hesitant. I'm trying to sort through a million thoughts at once. I can't believe I'm doing this. Hell, I can't believe that I remembered about this particular scarf. As the song changes to "I Don't Feel Like Dancing" by the Scissor Sisters, I wonder if I'll be able to retrieve the pep in my step I managed to muster.

The scarf is where I left it, in the corner of the nightstand drawer, carefully folded. Carefully, I take it in my hands. The silk feels exquisite against my palm. It carries the faint scent of Lavender, probably from the potpourri my mom placed in there. The royal blue hue pops out at me, as it did five years before.