Young Writers Society

Just as Mario was about to settle down with a nice, cold beer, he heard the old brass knocker thump the door twice. He yelled, “I'm coming,” as he put the beer on the kitchen counter and walked towards the door. Elijah stood there with a blank stare, as he opened the door.

“Hey man, come in. You want a beer?” Elijah strutted in behind Mario and shut the door.

“No, I came to ask you what the hell you were thinking, when you broke up with Belle while she was in a coma. You didn't even have the decency to do it while she was awake. She loved you.” Elijah felt his face turn fifty shades of red. He didn't really have any place to question Mario's actions. He didn't have a right to come barging into his house and judging him for staying in a loveless relationship, but Elijah had to know why Mario would leave a kind soul as Isabella.

As a child, Elijah was repeatedly told he was unlovable by an important adult in his life. As he grew up down the street from Mario, he saw Mario have all the luck in the world with girls falling all over him. All he ever wanted was just one single soul on this Earth to find him and love him. A fiery pit of jealous raged on as he watched Mario treat women as if they were disposable toys.

“Wait, she told you that? She's no longer in the coma?” Mario rubbed the back of his neck and took a long slow swig from his beer.

“Yeah, well, apparently she didn't have time to tell you because you were too busy being selfish.” Elijah crossed his arms.

“Oh stop it. I wasn't trying to be vicious. I just wanted to vent to her, practice before I really had to admit that it wasn't working any longer.” Mario sighs, “She must hate me now, but you on the other hand have no room to judge me. You don't know what our relationship was like; you don't own us, and frankly, I don't see why it's any of your business.”

Elijah rubbed his eyebrows, “I'm not saying you were trying to hurt her, but you have the worst timing. Whatever, I came to tell you that when she's released from the hospital tomorrow she'll be on complete bed-rest, and I told her she could stay with me since you guys were having troubles. I will need some of her things, and maybe you should go see her and actually talk to her, like two consenting adults.”

Mario left Elijah in the entry way, as he walked up the stairs and into the master bedroom. A feeling of peace and comfort fell upon him, as he realized he no longer would have to walk these halls attached to someone's hip, no longer would he have to be quiet after a night of drinking with pals in fear of waking Isabella, no longer would he have to watch chick flicks and look at mutual friends engagement rings as hints, no longer would he be invited to co-ed baby showers, no longer would he feel guilty about sliding into someone else's sheets and letting their body heat floor him into euphoria.

The suitcases holding all of Isabella's clothes were already packed and leaning against the bed. Mario figured the least he could do was pack her things, since he was pretty sure she would hate him after being dumped. He had laid out each item and folded it gently, possibly wafting in the sweet smell of lavender laundry detergent she used instead of the whiskey and cigarette smell fumigating his closet. He carried the suitcases down to Elijah and made a mental note to ask Isabella to come take the rest of her things when she was well and in her own apartment.

At Elijah's house, he was putting away Isabella's clothes in the guest bedroom. The pale green walls would soothe her; it was suppose to be a relaxing color, but as he picked it up from the hardware store, when he originally bought the house, he thought it looked like the sour limes he puckered after each shot of tequila. The white wooden dresser matched the white, de-stressed, queen sized bed frame. The bedroom felt like an old country magazine cover, all to the help of his momma. As, he continued to put away her clothes, a picture frame fell out of the inside panel of the suitcase. It was a picture of Elijah and Isabella on his last day of teaching in Ohio. Elijah allowed his heart to skip a beat and his mind to wander only for a second before he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed back up to the hospital; he didn't want Isabella to get lonely.

At elevator, Elijah bumped into Luke and Destiny, “Oh! Hey, Elijah. Isabella's asleep. Why don't you come downstairs with us for lunch, while she rest?” He reluctantly accepted his offer, and stayed in the elevator waiting for them to get on.

Isabella had only pretended to be asleep, so everyone would leave. She needed to talk to Mario, and she had put it off until she was alone, but it seemed as though as soon as one person left her room another would come. Her heart felt heavy, as she reached for the landline phone connected to the wall, sitting on the night stand beside her bed. She picked up the off-white receiver and dropped it immediately, as Elijah walked into her room.

“I knew you weren't asleep. Remember that time you pretended to be asleep in your car on break, so that I wouldn't be able to talk to you after I told you I was moving to Nashville? It's always been your go to defense mechanism. In other news, the guest room is all set for you. I even went by and got some of your clothes from your house, I mean Mario's house, I mean... I don't know.” Isabella's face went from a sly smirk straight to a frown.

“So, I guess this is real, uh? I'm really not in a relationship anymore.” She fought the urge to cry. Those magical whites pills the nurse handed her every morning were toying with her emotions, but if she kept a stash of them, they created a magnificent high.

Elijah's soul was on fire, as his heart twitched. As far as Isabella knew, he was just her friend, so he had to focus on comforting her instead of pouncing on this fresh prey. Do rebound relationships really work? If only I could love her the way she deserved to be loved. She deserves so much from a patient, willing man. He could feel her tugging at his heart in every right direction. How could she not see that? Elijah's blank expression caused Isabella to consider his thoughts and whether she was venting to much to him, Mario was his cousin, but by the time she opened her mouth to speak, he realized he had been staring at her and said, “Darling, it'll be okay. You'll get over this in a flash and start working down town like it's no one's business. The boys will be lining the streets to have a chance with you.”

Isabella scooted over and patted the bed next to her. She was tired of sleeping alone. Even when Mario slept with his secretary, the widow down the street, and the vet technician, he always came home at night, even when it was two or three in the morning, and lay next to her. His body heat would attract her, and even in the dead of sleep, she would coil into him, safe. She needed to be warm, feel love. Elijah stared at her with unsure eyes, but decided they both needed uninterrupted sleep and laid down beside her. Crammed into a tight space, Isabella feel asleep on his chest, and Elijah feel asleep with the scent of her hair drifting through his nostrils. His strong arms wrapped around her a tad tight, and he drifted into dreams where she was his reality.

Elijah woke up in a cold sweat, pushing Isabella away. His dream was so real, so sweet, so scary. The sun was blaring and all Elijah could taste was Isabella's soft, vanilla skin. He could feel her sticky body covering his, as sweat bead off his forehead. Then a car was heading straight for them, pushing up sand, and Isabella jumped in the way.

He rushed to the bathroom, careful not to wake Isabella, and splashed warm water on his face. Isabella turned on her side in her sleep muttering about where Elijah had gone, “Hey, Belle I'm heading to the cafeteria to go get some coffee. Go back to sleep.”

Elijah pushed his shaky legs down the hallway, down two flights of stairs, and to the cafeteria, no sign of Luke or Destiny in sight. He wondered how long he had been asleep with Isabella. He slumped into a corner booth, after buying a coffee. He looked down at the cup with it's steam floating into the cool hospital air and mixing until it was out of sight. He let it stay there untouched, black as the bags under his eyes. He almost slipped into another nap, when his phone began to ring.

“Hey, how is she?” Mario asked, no matter how angry he thought elijah was at him, he knew he'd always answer his call.

“What?” Elijah sat up straight and shook his brain awake.

“Don't play games. I know you're at the hospital. How is she?”

Elijah huffed, “If you want to know you'll have to come see her yourself.” Mario hung up on him. Putting his cell phone in his pocket, Elijah leaned back against the cool leather of the booth. He ran his fingers through his soft, blonde hair and closed his eyes, recalling the dream he had had fifteen minutes earlier.

Never seeing a therapist or church counselor, Elijah knew something in his heart, his soul was broken. He was afraid someone would tell him it would forever be broken, so he continued to walk through life miserable, but content in making others happy. Elijah had always thought of Isabella as a younger sister because to him, she was untouchable. Now that Mario was out of the picture, he dared to dream, but in reality, Elijah knew she would never want him.

When Elijah made it back to Isabella's room she was still sleeping. His gut told him to wait with her, but his eyes saw the puffy couch in the waiting room and persuaded him to go lay down. As he walked to the waiting he saw Mario walk down the hall. Elijah decided to head home; they were probably going to be talking for quite a long time. It would give him a chance to shower and go to bed.

In rush hour traffic, Elijah sat bumper to bumper on the freeway. His eyelids were slowly getting heavy, as he inched forward to his exit. Elijah hadn't felt the energy slowly leave his body, but while his body eased into the leather chair, he could feel himself slipping into sleep. He turned up the radio, in hopes of one day hearing his own voice on there, and rolled the windows down, feeling the cold wind smack him in the face.

At home, Elijah went upstairs and threw off his stinky, sweaty clothes to take a long, hot, steamy shower. The water rolling off his body felt like such relief of stress and tension. His thoughts raced around his head until they landed comfortably on Isabella, who was sweet as honey, smart as Einstein, but just a friend. Elijah wanted clarity, but he didn't know how to look to for advice; everyone who knew him knew Isabella and was likely to spread his inquiries to her. His heart was urging him to more forward, but his head was telling him he wasn't the one; she deserved so much more.