Lunar Virus ✔️

Chapter Three: Elodie

For the first time in my whole school life, I wake up before the alarm clock. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the craziness of the past 24 hours, I would probably be concerned. I look at the clock—it’s 5 AM. That leaves me with over an hour to do whatever I want to do. Wow. I have to admit having actual time in the morning is pretty nice, and in about half an hour, I’m all ready to go. Mom and dad are already at work, and they’ve already dropped Jem off at the neighbors; so I’m literally free to do whatever I want. Wait, what do I want to do? I start to formulate some options, and by the time I’m done the formalization process, I realize that most of my free time is already gone. Great.

I settle on looking out the window for the rest of the time, and finally, I see a car pull up into the driveway.

I manage to trip twice on my way out the door, but somehow, reach the car unscathed. Sitting in the car is the girl from yesterday, who, if I remember correctly, refused to give me her name. Judging from the bad vibes I’m getting currently, I’m gonna be playing the name game for most of the car ride. ‘Cause if I’ve ever actually learned anything from my brother, it’s the fact that if you pester someone enough, they’ll eventually give in and succumb to the pressure. I start playing the name game as soon as her foot hits the gas pedal.

“My name is Elodie by the way. Like, Melodie without them.’”

She glances at me, and waits a good 30 seconds before replying, “I know.” Ouch, talk about harsh.

“Yep. My brother's name is Jeremy, but we call him Jemmy.”

“Wonderful.” Does she seriously not get the hint?

“It’s a nickname,” I state this clearly so I can transition into my followup question.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you have a nickname?” There. She can’t evade that can she?

“I never got the point of nicknames.”

“So, what do you like to be called?”

“I’m not real fussy, I don’t have a preference.”

Alright, I guess I’m gonna have to make up a name for her. “Well, I think Gertrude is a beautiful name, don’t you think?”

Her lips part in horror as she hears the name I have given her, and for a second, I think I’ve gotten the best of her. But all she does is shoot me a glare and look pointedly at the road. I guess this conversation is over. Gertrude it is!

The rest of the ride is saturated with an awkward silence. Well, awkward for her. The silence doesn’t get to me the same way it seems to be getting to her. Her hands are tight against the steering wheel, and the scowl that had graced her lips at the mention of Gertrude never once fades.

I refocus on the scenery around me and watch the buildings as they pass. Five minutes later, we pull into a parking lot. With a start, I realize that we've pulled into the parking lot of a gym that's positioned right on the main road. I cannot even count how many times I've passed this specific gym and sniggered at it. The building looks something like one of those industrial warehouses, but that's not what makes is so strange. It’s the name of the gym that I just can’t come to terms with. Spread across the front in bright pink letters, are the words, Baby Kitties Gym.

Trust me when I say that I have thought long and hard about this name in the past. My conclusion was that it was a gym for pets, but after some digging, I found that it was actually a gym for people over the age of 90. Now, this is all fine and dandy, but there really aren't many over-90-folks out there that would be able to regularly go to the gym. Every time I have passed it, I can’t help but be surprised that it’s still in business. Needless to say, all kids and adults alike avoid this place like the plague. A plague that I’m about to willingly step into.