Young Writers Society

Evaline didn't like the silence that followed. She knew James was in pain, and it was probably from the recent cut that opened today. He was in pain, but here they were, sitting down under the stars in front of the river garden, eating soup because he insisted on waiting until they had more privacy. They were alone, but she could hear snippets of people talking and laughing loudly in the background. It wasn't private enough.

She felt like she should say something. Something to carry the conversation and keep his mind preoccupied. Problem was, Evaline had never been very good at small talk or initiating random conversation, even with friends. Carry or withhold a conversation, sure, but not initiate.

"How... are you feeling?" she asked, the words feeling forced out of mouth.

James was loosely holding his spoon in his hand, slowly spinning it in the bowl, creating a little whirlpool. It seemed to move at the same speed as the lazy streams forming the oasis. He felt like he was moving at the same speed.

"A little better, I think," he said. "Being around everyone... it's easy to be someone I'm not."

And already, he was afraid to disappoint her again.

Evaline forced another spoonful of soup, but it was beginning to get harder and harder to eat. It wasn't bad tasting by any means; she just felt her body starting to get repulsed by the idea of eating. She bit back the feeling for now and ate anyways.

She turned to shift her attention back at James again, trying to gauge his expression.

They had been together for most of the day. Unless the conversation with Kurt was more uncomfortable than the topic of life advice, the only instance she could think of James inventing stories and not being himself was when Mikel was questioning them about kids.

"It's hard to think of answers that make sense," she said softly. "You did a good job. And I'll... try to answer some of the questions next time, too."

"I guess, I'm just... trying hard not to go too far, like before," he said quietly, solemnly staring into his soup bowl. "I don't mind answering questions like that. For the most part, it's easy, coming up with replies on the spot. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it."

He looked over to her, searching her face for an answer, but sighed and looked back down before he really could.

"I don't know if I'm making sense."

Evaline lingered her gaze on him but then tore away, looking down at her own of soup that she placed on her lap. Her loose hair fell drooped down with the head tilt, so she slid it over the shoulder farthest from James, pushing any loose strands behind her ear.

"You don't have to please me," she said slowly, carefully. "Your filter doesn't have to go through me, or anyone, except yourself and what you personally want to say."

James tensed up at her words, but he didn't even fully know why. Maybe it was because he didn't know if he agreed. It was hard to say. He didn't feel like he could think clearly, not when his head was buzzing like this, and he was preoccupied with physical discomfort.

"But I can't do that with everyone," he finally said. "Not -- I'm trying not to filter for -- for you, but..."

He glanced back at the camp. He couldn't see figures clearly, but he could make out the shapes of some of the kids running around, laughing, and he could hear what sounded like one of the adults yelling. Scolding. Then more collective laughter.

Evaline wasn't sure what exactly James was trying to say, and he seemed to trail off before he could finish his sentence.

"That's okay," she said, taking a guess on what he meant. "It takes practice... to change. If... that's what you're doing. Trying to change." She silently sighed.

"I know it's probably not easy, but... I'm glad you're trying. I just don't want you to stress over it."

James sighed, and slowly turned around.

"I am," he said after some pause. "Trying to change."

He just didn't think he was doing it well, or at all, and he didn't want Evaline to be upset when he failed again. He knew he probably would. If there was anything he was good at, it was making the same mistakes again...

He let out another long sigh.

"I don't feel like I'm saying things very clearly at the moment. It sounds pitiful that all I keep thinking about is just... that I can't wait to lie down."

"No, it's okay," Evaline said gently, setting the soup beside her so she could bring her full attention towards James. She did quickly glance around them to make sure there wasn't anyone in their view, though.

James appeared to be slipping back into guilt and self-pity, and she wanted to stop him before he started the cycle again.

"You can lie down and rest for a minute now, if you want," she said, gesturing towards the flat space in front of them. "Or we can head back, check in with Sasha, and turn in for the night. I know you're tired and in pain. It's been a stressful day. I know. We can continue this conversation another time."

James looked back down at his bowl of soup.

"I think that's a good idea," he agreed. "I'll just--"

He didn't finish his sentence, and instead lifted the now lukewarm bowl of soup to his mouth and started chugging the rest of it until it was gone. The warm broth seemed to slosh straight to his stomach, sitting in it and filling to the brim.

He immediately regretted finishing it off quickly. Instantly, he started feeling nausea.

"Oooookay," he said slowly, getting to his feet. "Back to the nosy people and touchy children."

Evaline watched James chug the rest of the soup, but she wasn't going to mirror him. She only ate about half the bowl, and she dumped the remains on the ground next to her before she or James could change her mind. She got up and buried the liquids in the sand.

"Alright," she said, nodding over at him. "Let's go."

They silently walked back down the short path they came from, but the crickets and background laughter filled the air. It was nice to listen to.

When the fire was in their vicinity, Evaline offered to take the bowl from James and took lead to put it away. She was greeted by Liana, who took the two bowls from her without asking.

"I was wondering where you two were," she said, then looked down at the bowls. "Pretty hungry, huh? Good."

Evaline was glad that they were away from everyone when she dumped the soup when she did.

"It was a good meal. Thank you." She peered over to the general direction of the tents, but it was hard to see now that it was darker. "Is the—"

"I'm sure you're both tired," Liana interrupted. At least she said something that was relevant to what Evaline was about to say.

"We are," she said back, giving a fake smile and glancing at James who hung back.

"Yeah, I heard you two watched Mikel's kids." Liana smirked. "That must have been fun."

"It was... something. Between that and the food, we're now really tired," she reiterated. "Sasha said there were tents...?"

"Oh, yeah," Liana said with a shrug. "No worries, I pitched your tent for you. It's the bigger one. Figured you guys could use the extra room."

"... Okay, can you show us?" Evaline asked, deciding to ignore any implications of that sentence.

"Hey now, hold your horses," Liana said with a lopsided smile. It seemed she tried to joke, but considering they weren't talking about horses to begin with, it was hard to find this funny. She moved on quickly like she was used to silence as a response.

"We fed a lot of people today, so we'll need some help cleaning and putting things away. And we let the guests do the honors." She smiled. "Well, some of the honors. It's a group effort, and Ava and Mateo are already helping." She gestured behind her. Mateo and Ava appeared to be finishing up putting out the fire as two men carried the big pot away.

"Can you gather the empty bowls for cleaning?" she asked, turning back towards Evaline and James.

It was a simple request. It was the least they could do to repay their kindness and generosity. Plus, it shouldn't take too long if that was all they were requested to do.

Evaline glanced back at James again. He appeared to be swaying on his feet. His eyes widened a little, looking vacant.

"Of course," Evaline said after a hesitation. "Is that it?"

Liana smirked. "That's it for now. Let me know when you're done and we'll see what else needs to be done. Go on, then. It's that way." She pointed towards the number of nearby tables with dishes on them and then walked away, immediately scolding some nearby kids who were throwing sand near the clean dishes.

Evaline let out a deep breath and looked back at James again. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

James swallowed and nodded. "Yeah," was his one word reply. He started towards a table with bowls scattered about it and started stacking them into his arms.

She followed him but went to different tables, silently starting her own stacks. The clatter of ceramic dishes and silverware filled the air as they quickly moved to grab the dishes, walking back and forth between tables and the washing station.

Only about a minute or two into collecting bowls - and dishes and utensils, by association - James came back from dropping off another stack of dishes to the nearby washing station looking a little green.

"I'm going to vomit," he announced quickly. He didn't give her a chance to reply before he darted off into a bunch of bushes, under the shade of a leafy tree.

Evaline held a pile of plates and bowls in her hands and watched with wide eyes as he scurried off. A few heads seemed to turn his way and whisper at each other, and it took her a few moments to shake away his sudden announcement. She briskly walked back to the washing station, dropping off everything and then looking back at James's silhouette next to the tree. He, indeed, appeared to be vomiting, retching a few times.

Evaline wiped the soupy liquids off her hands with a nearby towel, and her legs naturally began to anxiously move in his direction, but James was already gone. In the dim firelight, she could faintly see his figure running down the path towards the tents.

"Yoen didn't look so good," Mateo said, and Evaline just realized he nearby.

"Yeah," Evaline said in a distracted state, glancing between the path of the tents and then the tables with the bowls. They only finished clearing about half the tables so far.

"Is he sick?" he asked.

"I don't know... I hope not," she said softly, taking a few slow steps forward as her mind raced on figuring out what to do. She wanted to run and help him, but she didn't want Liana or anyone to scold them for only finishing half the job. And maybe James wanted a few minutes of privacy to himself.

Edna was nearby and appeared to have witnessed the whole fiasco. She approached Evaline with a gentle smile.

"Go on, then," she said, nudging her head over down the path. "Trust me, dearie. A wife's presence is the secret ingredient to better a sick husband. That, and ginger in hot tea." She smiled. "Don't worry about finishing up. Go ahead and check up on him."

"Ava and I can take care of those dishes," Mateo said with a shy smile. "I hope Yoen feels better."

"Oh..." Evaline said softly, glancing at the two of them. "Thanks."

She hurriedly started down the path.

"Oh, and Evelyn?" Edna called, and Evaline stopped to turn around and face her. Edna smiled with a glint in her eyes. "Let me know if you need that ginger in hot tea."

"Will do," Evaline said with an appreciative smile, then turned to briskly walk down the path again.

There were a few fixed torches lighting the path that provided just enough light to see where she was, but she still had to continually squint and look around. She knew the direction of where the tents should be, but she couldn't remember exactly where it was. James may have also struggled with this, and she felt bad that he did so while feeling sick. She wished she didn't let him drink all the soup in one setting like that. Maybe he was feeling the same way about food as she was.

After aimlessly stumbling around for a little bit, she finally found it. There were two tents across from one another, but they were distanced a comfortable distance apart from each another and other huts. The bigger one was nearly double in size, and based on Liana's comment, she figured this was theirs.

Evaline opened the flap and peered in, but it was dark in there without any lighting. She squinted, letting the dim firelight fill the space inside.

"... James?" she whispered.

James finally found the matches. He struck the head against the sandpaper and a small flame fizzled to life at the tip of the wooden stick. Now, he could clearly see the wick of the oil lamp that hung from one of the tent's wooden poles. His head started to spin as he lifted the match to light the wick, and for a second, he started seeing double. His hand missed the wick, and he had to hover a shaking hand to one side and then the other before he finally found it. By that point, the match was burning dangerously down to his fingers. Just as the wick lighted, he felt the pinch of flames against his fingertips.

He hissed and snapped his hand away, and the ashen match fluttered to the ground as eaten up fuel. The moment the lamp finally started to light up the inside of their tent, he thought he heard something, but he couldn't make out what was said.

Seconds before, his face was tense and creased with pain, but now he corrected it and stood as relaxed as he could manage, with his arms folded over his chest.

Waves of nausea rolled over him, and he was dizzy. Blood was starting to seep through his clothes. He had started to feel it when it dripped down his side into his pants. Wet, warm, and sticky, and not a welcome feeling at all. He cursed himself for not noticing sooner.

Dangerously close to losing his balance, he attempted to steady his stance as he peered at the figure poking into the tent.

It took a second for his eyes to focus and finally realize it was Evaline.

The brief mask he'd managed to put on fell, and he hunched over. His hands went to the belt around his waist, searching the ties for the knots to undo them.

"I'm bleeding," he whispered thinly. "Again."

Evaline's eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden light in the room, and she could see James swaying, first looking like he was trying to compose himself, and then losing it. She rushed inside and quickly closed the flap behind her before coming up to James.

He looked like he was about to fall over from his own weight, so she reached out to grab his shoulders, steadying himself.

"It's okay, it's okay," she said in a gentle voice, hoping that it could help calm his nerves. "Let's sit you down."

She glanced around the tent. There was a singular large bed roll that took up most of the room, and blankets piled on top of it with two pillows. At the foot of the bed was a small table with various supplies, and there was a stool and woven basket in the corner that looked like it held more blankets.

With James still in tow, Evaline shuffled over to the stool and slowly helped sit him down.

"Where are you bleeding?" she asked calmly, kneeling down in front of him.

She had a feeling it was the cut from the thieves that reopened today, but she wanted him to confirm it.

James felt his head starting to spin as Evaline led him to the stood. He sat down, and he could feel nausea work its way up his throat again. How long had he been bleeding? He would've thought he'd noticed sooner, but he was so used to it hurting that he didn't even know if it had registered.

His hands went to his side, and he could feel it starting to leak through the layers of clothes. Wet, warm, and flowing fast.

"Same as before," he said, untying the belt around his waist with shaking hands. His vision felt unfocused, but he knew he needed to stop the bleeding. He wasn't sure if more pressure was going to be enough to stop it from bleeding long-term. Not when he kept moving, and it kept chafing against his clothes.

He ripped the belt off and threw it to the side, on the floor.

"No one followed you?" he asked, hushed.

"No," Evaline said, recalling stumbling in the dark by herself. She couldn't completely rule it out since someone may have been quietly sneaking a distance behind her, but considering no one in the oasis was aggressive, it was very unlikely.

"No one followed me. We're safe," she reiterated.

She reached out to help unpeel James from his shirt, but then stopped.

"Would you like me to help with that?" she asked, staring at his shirt. "Otherwise, I can come back. I can grab the supplies from Elliot."

She didn't want to take charge and assumed the type of help he needed like she had done before. What would he like her to do?