Counterfactual

15 | doppelganger

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DOPPELGANGER

( — a ghostly double or counterpart of a living person. )

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

          ROWAN RETURNS HOME IN DECEMBER. His hospital stay wasn't particularly long, but they wanted to keep him there for observation, reminding him he had nearly drowned, and they wanted to ensure everything was fine before letting him go. When he exits through the sliding glass doors, the skies above him look like a bootlegged, blurred version of Starry Night, red and purple instead of blue and yellow, and he feels like a kid again, trying to find the early stars.

          Unfortunately, they're nowhere to be seen tonight and Rowan drags himself to his parents' rental car. They don't even let him drive, much to his dismay, and he's simply thrown to the back seat as they follow his directions towards his apartment. Rowan is praying everything is exactly as he left it back when he last closed the front door to go figure out whatever is going on, as he doubts he'd be able to handle more post-it notes.

          Hell, what is he supposed to do now? He spent weeks seeing and talking to a dead girl, even though he technically didn't know the truth, and can't even imagine what people must have thought of him. He remembers that incredulous look Rhiannon and Jude threw him that day at the library, meaning they must have heard him argue with himself, and it makes him want to dig a hole and bury himself in it.

          Even the town seems different. He's not sure whether that's true or if he's finally seeing the streets as they have always been when they're not covered in fog, but they're mostly empty. It's a cold evening and only shopkeepers show their faces, along with one or two shoppers, but most people are inside their houses, the gentle lighting exiting through the windows and illuminating the façades and storefronts.

          Rowan's nose burns from the cold and he crosses his arms, pressing them against his chest remembering how the nurses and doctors kept insisting he should be careful throughout the following days, as the temperatures will keep dropping. Plus, he can't afford to catch a cold or the flu, as it might cause him to lose his voice or develop something more serious. Noticing this, Timothy Underwood raises the temperature of the car heater, turning a button, but it doesn't do much to help.

          Justine looks up at the rear-view mirror, looking away when their eyes meet, and Rowan's head lolls back as he leans it against the pillowed seat. The air inside the vehicle smells obnoxiously like oranges, an incredibly hard scent to get away from your clothes, much like the smell of cigarette smoke, but Rowan knows how to tolerate the latter. That's the difference.

          His Jeep smells like pine trees. He took great care of it, back when he was still living in New Hampshire, and, if he wouldn't be spending an absurd amount of money on gas, he would have brought it here, as it would make things a lot easier. For starters, he'd only be depending on himself to make his way around town, even though there aren't that many places where he likes to go—the diner, Crowcrest, and the grocery store aren't that far away from each other.

          His parents insist on staying for dinner without him inviting them, which doesn't entirely surprise him, but Rowan quickly notices that's not the worst thing that could be happening to him right now. He was smart enough to leave his house without his wallet and phone, so they're safe and sound inside the apartment, but he took his keys with him, and they weren't in his pockets when he checked them at the hospital.