Her Name is Memory

32| startling discoveries

Chapter 32

Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this.

~Nathaniel's Lyric Journal

"HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?" Trent asked me. 

I took a long swig of beer until it finished before looking at David throwing wood into a large fire in front of us. I didn't know what to expect when the guys invited me to a bonfire. I knew for sure I wasn't expecting a couple of jagged stones, which looked like was found randomly on the side of the road, circling the fire. Random assortment of items were pined in the center, charring into ash as the flames lick them. 

I didn't expect a makeshift fire pit in David's backyard. 

It was a quiet night. Anthony brought a radio to David's backyard to play soft tunes while we were talking.

"It's...something," I said, inching back when the wind blew the ash in my direction. 

I pulled out my phone, noting the lack of texts. 

Me: Are you okay? 

Elise and I agreed that she would text me to check in that she was okay. While she was not ignoring me for days on end like before, I knew she was still holding back. I hated how fucking helpless I felt when I saw her with exhausted eyes. 

"It's not good enough for city boy?" Anthony teased, tossing a Lucky Charms box - which he had for some reason- into the flame. 

I shook my head. "It's not that. It's just hot as fuck and you want to light a big fire." 

They said something, but I ignored it when I felt my phone vibrate. 

Elise: Yes. Just a long day. 

Me: want to elaborate? 

Elise: not really 

I sighed loudly, turning off my phone. 

"Burning things are fun," Anthony comment, throwing a beer can to the flame. "So how has your time in Alabama been so far? You are two months in." 

Two months. 

Jesus, it's really been that long? The days and hours take forever to pass, almost to the point of being painful, but the weeks pass by quickly. The statement also reminded me that it's been two months since I left New York. 

Since I left Mom. 

"I can see the appeal," I admitted, finishing my beer before tossing the can in the flame. 

It was still racist. I knew from the glances I get and the occasionally ignorant comment about my English, but I enjoyed the open plains. Something about the nothingness allowed me to lay there. New York would've made me move when all I wanted to do was sink into nothingness. 

"I'm glad we aren't terrible people," Trent commented. 

David was toying his beer, finishing his third beer before reaching for the next one by his side. 

"How has your Angela troubles been?" Trent asked. 

How the fuck do they know that? I looked at David, who was silently drinking his beer. 

"What? They asked. She kept visiting the diner. It wasn't that secretive," David protested. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"Must be well because she still comes by," Anthony snorted. Trent rolled his eyes. 

"Fuck her man, and her dumbass friends too," Trent mumbled to himself.