One Last Attempt

008

Just to be safe, I spend a decent amount of time studying. It's worth it too. Baker is out of his room, making sure that I'm not working myself to death, which is nice. He brings me tea and snacks every few hours.

My body cramps up in the chair, and eventually, I find myself so sure that most of the mistakes I initially made will be avoided. I'm surprised by how much I remember. Everything before and after Baker's death ought to be a blur.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. I pull myself out of the chair and nearly double over. My vision goes hazy at the edges, and my legs are asleep. Have I had anything but tea to drink in twelve hours? What time is it?

Eventually, the darkness fades. I have half a mind to call Ava and ask her what to do, but the feud between Baker and Jessie still pokes at the back of mind, otherwise filled with dates and names.

"You alright?" Baker walks in and bends down to help me up. He takes my hand in his. He's warm, probably from staying huddled up inside a blanket for hours on end. My hand lingers for too long, and so he cocks his head to the side. I pull away and shove my hands in my pockets.

The feeling in my chest, one where it feels like an elephant is sitting on top of me, probably stems from the impending doom of the day Baker takes his life. Depending on what time it is, it's either today or in less than twelve hours.

"Want to go to the beach?" I ask.

He cocks his head to the side. "It's the middle of the night."

I look at the curtains which cover the window, expecting them to part for me. They don't, of course, but no light is shining through them.

"Come on," he nudges me. "I'll call a taxi."

One of the many things I like about Baker is that he doesn't ask questions. He's a man of action, and though he likes to chat a lot, it's mostly superficial. In fact, I know that he hid his family from the rest of us. He told us that they didn't understand him. Later, I realized that none of us understood him either.

Baker calls the cab and we go outside. We wait on the steps outside our building for the taxi to arrive. Baker shivers in his green bomber jacket. My coat keeps me warm.

"Have you ever thought about just escaping?" he asks me.

This is it. This is my moment. "I... uh... escaping how?"

"Like, moving away," he says. "I'd fancy going to do a master's abroad. Like, far away."

"Mainland Europe?" even though my heart sinks, I keep asking questions. At least, he seems to be planning something.

"Farther," Baker says. "I was thinking Australia, for the warm weather. Their healthcare system isn't too bad either."

I furrow my brow and lean in towards him. Australia is far away, but if Baker could live there happy, I'd be content.

"Of course, it would never work," he points out.

Before I can ask him why he is stuck, the taxi pulls up. We get inside and drive off towards the beach. It's a long ride, one we pass in silence. Previously, Baker has been known to get caught up in conversation with the taxi driver. I'm thankful that he doesn't this time.

I lean my head against the window. It's cold. Outside, we drive by a closed Fair. All of the bright colours of the rides and booths look faded in the poor light. It burdens my already heavy heart.