The Tribuo - 28. Part III, chapter 10/Epilogue

- X -

We got into my car and Michelle was in the driver’s seat once again. She bit her lip and looked at me tentatively.

“Hey… Could you do me a favor?” she asked finally.

“Sure,” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“If I stop by the gas station, could you go buy me some cigarettes? Since I am underage and all…”

I blinked at that. She looked like she expected me to go on a very long tirade about how bad smoking was, that buying cigarettes for a minor was illegal, and so on.

“Sure,” I said, and she sighed with relief.

“Thanks!”

…Twenty minutes later, she was puffing on a Parliament and going through radio stations at lightspeed.

“There!” she said suddenly and cracked up the volume.

I frowned when I recognized the song.

“Personal Jesus,” I muttered. “It’s an old song…”

“This is Marilyn Manson’s version,” Michelle grinned. “I love it!”

“Michelle,” I said. “It wasn’t an accident and you know it… Why did you…”

She turned the volume up so much that the windows in my car started shaking, and I stopped talking, since it was useless.

*****

“How are you going to get home?” I asked when she parked on my driveway.

She blinked.

“Give me your phone,” she said a few seconds later.

I handed her the phone.

“I’ll pay for your cab,” I said, and she glanced at me.

“I am not calling for a cab,” she said. “Hey!” she said into the phone a few seconds later. “It’s me. Come and get me. I am at…”

She was saying the address and I climbed out of the car. A minute or so later, she climbed out as well.

“I’ll wait here,” she said.

“I’ll stay with you,” I muttered and she shrugged.

“Okay.”

We went behind the gate that I never locked, and she lit another Parliament.

“Michelle,” I said and she looked at me. “It wasn’t an accident…”

“Sure it was,” she said lightly. “I mean, I know that you wanted to run him over at first, but then you didn’t. So when you hit him, you didn’t mean it anymore. That’s an accident in my book.”

“Your logic is…” I tried to find a right word.

“I know,” she grinned.

Then I thought of something.

“How did you know Cole’s name?” I asked, and she frowned at me. “In the car… Right when I was about to… How did you know Cole’s name?”

“You told me,” she said slowly with the same puzzled frown. “You don’t remember?”

“No,” I shook my head.

She shrugged.

“Well, you did.”

I almost said something else, but then a car flew into the empty street, and Michelle flicked her cigarette away.

“Gotta go,” she said lightly.

“See you tomorrow, I guess,” I muttered and she sighed.

“Nah. I won’t be here.”

Now it was my turn to frown at her.

“What do you mean? We have to be at the police station at noon…”

“I don’t feel like talking to the cops again,” she said, and I stared at her.

The car stopped in the middle of the street and somebody got out. I looked up.

“Your friend?” I asked doubtfully, eyeing the guy who was walking towards us.

“Yeah,” she said as indifferently as ever.

He was much older than her -- probably thirty-five or close to it. He was blond and tall. The thing that confused the hell out of me was the fact that he was wearing sunglasses. I blinked. It’s night time, it just stopped raining, it’s darker than ever… Why would someone wear sunglasses at this time?!

“You good?” he asked and Michelle grinned.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go.”

I shivered in the wind and watched them get into the car.

“Michelle!” I called right before she closed the door.

She looked at me.

“Thank you,” I said. “For… Everything, I guess…”

“You are welcome,” she said, and this time she didn’t smile.

*****

I went to the hospital at nine in the morning the following day. I knocked on the door of his room and heard Cole’s voice.

“Yeah!” he shouted. “Come in!”

Here we go… I took a deep breath and walked in so carefully, as if I were trying to maneuver around a minefield. Cole blinked when he saw me.

“Hey, Mar,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Is he…”

“Live and kicking,” Eric grumbled. “Hey, Mary-Mary.”

“Eric…” I muttered. “Listen…”

“I’ll be right back,” Cole said. “Want some coffee, Mar?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Be right back,” he repeated.

I bit my lip when he kissed Eric’s mouth before leaving. It was just a light kiss, but for some reason, it was all closure that I needed to get. He walked out and closed the door.

“Eric,” I said quietly. “I am sorry…”

“Shit happens,” he said without taking his eyes off me. “It was an accident, so…”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said and he stopped talking. “It wasn’t an accident. When I saw you at that bus stop, I… All I wanted to do was to kill you. I had never hated anyone in my entire life as much as I hated you right then…”

“Huh,” he said very thoughtfully. “Well, your aim is really lousy then.”

I tried to smile at that.

“No,” I said finally. “My aim is just fine. I realized at the last second that… It wasn't going to change anything…”

“Huh,” he said again. “Actually, if you look at it from my perspective, that would change pretty much everything…”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It would… That’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” he interrupted me. “Why are you here now?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I… I still don’t like you… But I don’t hate you anymore…”

“That’s good,” he said carefully.

“Listen… I am going to the police station soon… I am going to tell them everything that happened, I am going to…”

“Pfft!” he said and I blinked. “It was an accident, Mary-Mary. And that’s the story I am sticking with, no matter who I tell it to. Doctors, cops… Cole,” he finished.

“Eric…”

He grinned at me.

“Go get your coffee, Mary-Mary,” he said. “You look like hell.”

“You too,” I sighed, and this time, I was able to smile.

______________

EPILOGUE

“That was interesting.”

“It really was.”

“Kind of risky, don’t you think?”

“I guess. But it wasn’t my fault that they didn’t get into that damn coffee shop for the entire week. Plus, I don’t remember you saying anything about me meeting them face to face on the first day of the week… It’s not a rule, by the way, is it?”

“No. It’s not a rule. I was just wondering what the hell you were doing and why, that’s all.”

“That feeling should be familiar to you by now.”

“True.”

“Oh, God… Do you have any idea how sick I am of making coffee?!”

“Some people do it for longer than a week, you know.”

“I know. What’s next? Or should I ask who is next?”

“Emma Langsfield. I’ll tell you about her later though. Don’t feel like it.”

“When do I start?”

“April.”

“April?!”

“Yeah. We have plenty of time. Let’s go get some coffee, what do you think?”

“Funny. Really, really funny…”

End of part III. To be continued...