Young Writers Society

"It's different," she said, finding that she had to expend extra energy to repress the memories again. "You had a summer's worth of time pass."

Months.

"For me, only one night had passed. I quite literally woke up like it was a dream."

And she remembered the fallout, the self-doubt, the paranoia. The panic, the despair, the damage. The hurt.

All because of a dream. A dream that seemed to real. A dream she had evidence was real, but then tossed, because it wasn't.

Until now.

James hadn't meant to compare their situations. He knew they were different because her relationship with time was different, but what he didn't know was that when she returned to earth, only a night had passed.

His stomach dropped, and he stared at Evaline for a moment, unable to find words. He couldn't even begin to imagine how disorienting and horrifying that had been for her, to wake up after one night with four months' worth of vivid memories and nothing to show for it.

And he was the one who sent her back.

"I'm so sorry," he said in a whisper. "I didn't know."

Evaline watched her cat roll around in the grass, ball in her mouth. She walked a few steps toward them, but then lost the ball as it slipped out because of the drool. It may take another minute for her to return.

"It's okay," she said, not at all surprised that James apologized. "I didn't expect you to know."

James nodded, and his gaze drifted back to the large cat playing and rolling around on the ground with the childish energy of a kitten. He glanced over at Elliot, as if to ask him if he remembered when he was like that, several years ago. Full of energy and bounding all over the place. But Elliot was a horse, and those memories couldn't be communicated with the same depth.

Still, James liked to remember. At least, from what he could remember.

He couldn't think of a way to shift the conversation naturally, so he just waited a few moments before asking again.

"So, what's your pet's name?"

Evaline didn't think she could really avoid the question. It wasn't like her cat actually knew her own name, but it still felt deceptive and wrong to lie and say something else as a last minute change. Plus, he was bound to run into the others who knew the name.

"Don't laugh," she said, delivering the demand blankly. "But I named her Elliot."

Right on cue, Elliot started to walk back towards them, laying down in the space in front of them and stretching with the ball still in her mouth.

When she asked him not to laugh, James thought, for some reason, that maybe the name would be embarassing in a silly way. That, maybe, she'd named the cat a goofy name that wasn't really a word or a name at all. But when she said Elliot he wasn't sure if laughter was the appropriate response.

He wasn't sure how to define what he was feeling. Maybe he would've laughed if he hadn't been asked not to, but it wouldn't have been because it was funny.

He looked down at Elliot the cat, then at Elliot, his horse, and then at Evaline.

"That might make things a little confusing," he said. "But... it's a good name."

Evaline kneeled down to pet cat Elliot's belly, and then she took the slobbering ball out of her mouth. She had dulled teeth, it wasn't hard to take out since the drool and the shape made the ball frictionless.

I wouldn't have named her Elliot if I'd have known you were real, she wanted to say, but decided against it.

"She's not the smartest and doesn't really know her name," she admitted, wiping the drool off her own fur. "I can change it. Maybe Elle, or something else."

"Don't," he said before he could really think it over.

It was fine. Elliot the horse might get a little confused if he heard his name, but it would be fine.

He glanced back at the cabin, wondering if Oliver was still inside, or if he'd already slipped out. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask, but he wanted to ask them in private, where he wouldn't be at risk of blowing the cover Evaline had put so much effort into making up for him. Of course, if anyone was listening, they would've heard them say it'd been five years... which in itself, could cause suspicion, but it was vague enough that it could mean nothing.

He looked back at Evaline and the cat.

"So... Terra. That's where I assume we're going," he said.

Evaline reached over Elliot and put the ball away at the bag tied around her chest. She didn't seem to mind when she was leaning against her, instead staring at her while her bushy tail flicked up and down on the ground.

James asked a reasonable question. He had showed up in an unfamiliar world, and he wanted to know where he was going. It was his right to know.

She could understand that, especially now that she knew that she truly did live through it. Although, she wasn't sure if it had fully sunk in yet. She would rather it did slowly, anyways.

Evaline zipped up the bag and then got up to her feet, lightly tugging the leash around Elliot's neck so she knew to get up.

"It's a week's journey on foot, but if we ride, we can get there faster," she said, then glanced back at Elliot. Horse Elliot. "Can he ride for long periods?"

James found himself mildly surprised she had to ask, but then remembered for that the entirety of their time together, they often walked instead of riding all day. That was because Elliot was carrying twice the weight he was used to, on top of extra supplies, and they were under strenuous circumstances.

He didn't feel like explaining all of that.

"Yes," he answered simply.

Evaline nodded, straightening the saddle on Elliot's back and brushing away a few burrs that stuck to her fur.

"I'll lead the way, but ride next to me so I know what speed to follow. We'll stop at sundown." She straightened out the reins and looked back at James. "Sound good?"

James nodded, and mounted up into (the horse) Elliot's saddle.

"Yes," he answered again, giving her a nod. He glanced back at the cabin again, and then looked to Evaline, waiting for her to lead the way.

Evaline nodded back, effortlessly putting her leg over cat Elliot's saddle. He was lower to the ground, so she didn't need to use stirrups to get up, but this just meant she had to sit lower and lift her legs up where the buckle was. She seldom rode Elliot for long distances, and she knew that she'd have to run slower to not exhaust horse Elliot. She only hoped that she could maintain a slower speed for longer periods.

After James looked ready to go, she bent down and tugged at the reins, starting at a speed typical of a horse's canter. James and horse Elliot matched the speed with ease.

This went on for about twenty minutes, and horse Elliot started to slow. Evaline matched his speed, and this kept repeating over longer increments of time until two hours had passed. The sun had almost finished at that time, and both Elliots seemed to be getting tired anyways. They made reasonably good distance as they weaved through a path that faded as the woods turned gnarly and the trees became thicker and taller.

Although they were a few miles east, she had gone through the entirety of the coastline more times than she could remember. She had memorized the path by heart, and she knew which places were best for shelter. It was getting darker, but she instructed James to follow as she pulled off to the side and rode a little longer.

Just as the night was about to get too dark to see, she had led James to a giant redwood tree that was carved out in the middle. She knew there were wax candles she could light up with matches, and there were sleeping bags. If they were lucky, someone may have recently stocked up the locked box with food and water.

There didn't seem to be anyone else at the little camp Evaline had brought them to, but it was shelter, which was all they really needed. After they tied up both Elliots, Evaline found some water in a lockbox and lit a candle that dimly lit up the inside of the hollowed out tree.

Evaline pulled out two sleeping bags that were soft and cushioned with cotton. Though James had initially refused Melakae's offer the previous night, he decided to take the path of least resistance and take the sleeping bag without comment or fuss.

The two of them laid the sleeping bags against one of the flatter sides of the tree's rootless floor and sat down, and Evaline started pulling out food. She handed him something wrapped in a tortilla. It smelled like beans.

He nodded by way of thanks and started eating in silence, looking around the inside of the tree. It wasn't a very big room, but for a tree, it was sizeable. He hadn't seen anything quite like it, and there was a small sense of wonder at the sheer size, but it faded as weariness set in. He ended up eating the bean and veggie wrap very quickly. He hadn't had anything that filling in a minute.

When he finished, he leaned back against the tree's wall and glanced at Evaline, who was maybe only halfway through hers. He turned his gaze to the opening of the tree, staring out into the forest while she finished.

When she did finish she flattened the containers the wraps were in and then wordlessly got up to walk towards cat Elliot. It was dim and James could barely see her outline as she kneeled down at the mouth of the tree, appearing to take a few items out of the bag.

Eventually she returned, pulling out a grapefruit and then tossing it to him when she caught his eyes. He caught it with one hand. "Figured you're still hungry," she said as she sat back down on the sleeping bag.

She also handed him a thin blanket. "And here's a blanket, if you need it. It can get cold sometimes, even with a sleeping bag."

"Thank you," he said, digging his thumb into the grapefruit's rind and starting to peel.

"You're welcome," Evaline said, and an uncomfortably long silence fell between the two of them. It really wasn't that uncomfortable to her anymore, but she knew that it would be for the average person. And now she didn't know if James was an average person. They both had changed. It had been five years, after all.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to know how exactly he'd changed, either. Maybe it felt less real that way.

Evaline watched as the candlelight seemed to flicker around the tree's trunk, and then she gazed out at the opening of the tree. It was pitch black. A new moon.

She was about to give in for the night and moved her legs to lay down on the sleeping bag, but suddenly James spoke up and broke the silence.