Chapter Seven

Austin, TX

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Well, I'm a wheel that's always turning, oh, I always start out where I end. And, me, I'm like a fire that's always burning." Shakey Graves - Jessie

Austin,Tx, Lone Star State Fest, Zilker Park - August 12th

Jessie

"If we're quick and sprint, then we should be able to make it over in time to see the band play the last ten minutes of their set."

Ellis clutches at the festival map and lanyard guidebook. He's been meticulously planning the feat of watching two bands, at opposite ends of the humungous festival site for the past twenty minutes.

I think he's trying to make up for the day before, at the springs pool. He's been all nice and helpful. A little too much. 

"Whatever you say Captain," I nod, applying another layer of suncream. 

"That's a first," he jokes, taking the bottle of cream. "Here, you've missed a bit." Gently, he rubs the gloopy cream into my shoulders and back with hot hands. 

"Hows the hat?" 

Ellis twists his head from side to side, modelling the backwards black baseball cap bought from a stall at the entrance to the festival site. "Great, thanks. Yours?"

"It'll do." Mine isn't as fancy. It's the stiff sun-faded sun hat my mum insisted I pack. I don't look half as cool as Ellis but it's keeping my scalp from burning in the one million degree heat, because holy moly mother of god is it hot today! 

So insanely hot that we're not half way through and already considering throwing in the towel, to go cool off in the springs pool or lubricate ourselves with icy, cold pitchers of beer. 

For now though, we're roasting near the foot trucks and drinks tent, wondering if we'll make it out a live and if we've got it in us to have another burrito. 

"Will you dance with me?" I turn to Ellis and pull back my shades.

"Right now? Here?" His voice squeaks and he looks a bit panicked. 

I pretend to grab for his hand. "No... I meant later, when we go see the band. I need someone to dance with me."

"Maybe."

"Maybe? That's all I get huh?"

Ellis's lips curl into a smirk. "But what do I get in return, for embarrassing myself with my two left feet and awful rhythm?"

I finish applying the last of the suncream. My hands are all greasy and dirt covered. "You get to dance on, I mean with me."

"Dance up on you?"

"Shut up!" I say, hitting him with the bulk of my satchel, packed full of cream and plasters and melted Skittles. "We're not at a club. To be fair, I should have asked if you'd 'mosh' with me, not dance. Who dances at a rock show?"

"I'd prefer that," Ellis says, with a grin. "But I still feel as if I'm getting the bum deal here."

"Fine. Maybe we can check out that party of yours, after the festival tomorrow." I watch Ellis's eyes light up and though it should feel great to do something I know will make him happy, it doesn't. 

I'm sat down but my stomach sinks. 

"You serious?"

"Yeah, I guess." It's too late to go back now. Me and my stupid mouth. Me and my stupid want to see Ellis smile, to smile at me and because of me. My selfishness has truly back fired this time. 

Rising to his feet, the festival map tucked in his back pocket, he offers out a hand. "Jessie Adkins, did I ever tell you you're best?"

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Austin Tx, Lone Star State Fest, Day Two - August 13th

Fireworks light up the darks night sky and the band begins to wrap up the much, longed for encore chanted by the thousands below them. 

Officially, it's the end of the festival. Everyone's got their phones and lighters up in the air and some are already heading for the exits, like an army of ants. 

Ellis sways by my side as a riot of lasers all the colours of the rainbow and more spill out across the crowd. 

The hairs on my arms are tickled by the slight evening breeze and by Ellis and how he hasn't stopped grinning or singing. 

I never knew he could look so happy or alive.

The band surges into the rousing final few moments of their set and the last ever of a festival I'll never forget and never want to leave. 

And as they sing out the last lines, I follow Ellis's gaze, watching him, watching them and all the million lights and everything feels alright. 

"Just know that every time I look in your eye, I see better, I see better, better days." Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros

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Austin Tx, South Congress Neighbourhood, House Party - Midnight

In spite of pulling out the 'I'm tired' card. In spite of rubbing my eyes and yawning and acting like the third burrito we had might be on its way back up, we still end up at the party.

Partly because I know how much it means to him and partly because we 'bump' into Marie and a friend on the way out of the festival and have no other choice. 

It's why I am stuck right now between Casey, a petite texan who says Y'all a lot and smokes like a chimney and Drew, a lumbering guy with a crew cut and big eyebrows. 

With the sprawling backyard, massive oak trees and crystal blue pool as our backdrop and the fire pit going, I continue to nurse a red solo cup of whiskey and coke, and humour Drew as he talks and talks about nothing interesting. 

He's gone through half a bottle of patron and has been slurring his words for half an hour. 

I'm having a crap time. Ellis isn't through. He's in his element, stood talking to Marie and her gaggle of equally beautiful friends, guys and girls who play beer pong and cannonball into the pool, with the music turned up to 12. 

As Drew yaps on about college and the government or something, I zone out. I'm too busy watching Ellis on the other side of the pool. 

It's like everything has slowed down. Like a camera zooming in, as Marie throws her head back to laugh at something he's said and he basks in the glow of it. And I stand and stare and Drew asks me if I want to see a magic trick and I hope that he can make me disappear so I don't have to keep watching. 

"Oh my god, like, no way! Say no Jessie!" Casey shrieks, laughing. 

"She wants to see. She does."

"I don't know if I do..." I say slowly, wiping sweat away from my forehead. It might be late but the humidity hasn't let up.

Drew regardless of my answer proceeds to unzip his jeans. 

"What the hell are you doing?"

Casey giggles and covers her mouth. "Oh my god, he's actually doing it! Hah, no way!"

Drew wiggles his bushy eyebrows at me. "Wanna see my balls disappear?"

I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. And by the time Casey has done the same, Drew is left with his nuts hanging out, all by himself. 

"Oh, hey, Jessie," Ellis's eyes widen in surprise to find me by his side. Eyes that are blood shot and glazed over. Clearly he's been smoking weed with them. 

"Hey, Jessie right?" Marie says, holding the small joint between her fingers. 

I look her up and down. Especially her face. She's so textbook pretty. It's a face I wish I had. And everything else of hers, including Ellis's attention. Marie is just his type. In the right light she could pass as Stella's older sister. 

Bringing his red cup to his lips, he asks how I am, if I'm having fun. "Cool party, right?"

"I guess." 

"Marie's been telling me all about the travelling she did through Europe last summer," Ellis says, tripping over his words because he's so impressed and overly enthusiastic. "She might be coming to London next year too."

I wish I'd stayed with Drew. 

I'd rather that than have to stand and watch Ellis watch Marie like she's the first girl he's ever seen. 

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Austin Tx, The Cottage, 3.10am - August 14th 

Our drive home comes courtesy of a beat up, musty smelling car and one of Marie's friends once the party begun to wrap up and everyone was too drunk to continue. 

I drag Ellis up the cobble driveway and push open the cottage door. He slumps on the sofa, drunk and waves at the door, eyes half shut. "Thanks."

"I'm over here," I say, kicking off my shoes. I'm tired and fed up. And I'm pretty sure they kissed - him and Marie. He smells different. Like floral perfume and there's glittery, pink gloss smeared along his jaw. 

When I walk over to prise away a pile of magazines on the sofa so he can rest properly, Ellis holds my shoulder and pouts his lips.

"I'm not Marie." I say quietly, pulling back. I ignore his grumbles and walk to the mini bathroom. I run the tap to wet a small hand flannel because he's all hot and sweaty. I think he caught the sun today more than he or I realised.

"You're Jessie."

"Wow, you remembered." I toss him the flannel. "You're a bad drunk, I hope you know that."

"You're a worser drunk," he slurs, holding the limp flannel.

I tut, "That's not even a word."

"You're not even a word," Ellis is grinning, laughing to himself. Finding it hilarious that my cheeks have gone red and I'm getting angry at his made up words.

I stomp over and flop the flannel across his forehead. "You're the one making no sense." And when he gently catches my wrist, he lifts his face up and his hand slips to the side of mine and he closes his eyes. 

Ellis's lips graze mine, lifting away the strawberry lip balm I'd applied in the car. His breath his hot. His hand caresses my cheek. 

"No." 

I pull back firmly, and wipe my mouth. Moving along to the furthest end of the sofa, I drop my head in my hands and scream into them.

He doesn't even remember the last time this happened, when he was seventeen and newly dumped by Stella, in front of the whole class. I heard him from my bedroom, stumbling up his parents driveway, drunk from an all-nighter in town with kids way cooler than I ever could be. 

I snuck in through their back door and told him it would feel better in the morning, and Ellis had nodded and pushed his lips to mine for what felt like forever but was only a few seconds. 

To be honest it only ever takes a few seconds for everything to change. Wars are started in less time. 

After, when I pulled away and told him I didn't want it to be like this, I slept at the foot of his bed until I knew he was sleeping and wouldn't die from heartbreak or from choking on his own vomit. 

I've never told him any of this.

In the morning he acted liked nothing ever happened. He doesn't remember a thing. 

As I silently scream because I'm frustrated at history repeating itself and because only a handful of hours ago I felt the happiest I'd ever felt, I hear him take off his t-shirt. 

It shouldn't be like this.

Shuffling over, Ellis spreads his body out and rests his head in my lap, face up towards mine. As he attempts to brush away a tear I hear him whisper my name.

"What?" My voice cracks. 

"Don't be upset Jessie. Please, don't cry. I'm the one who cries, remember?"

"You don't have the monopoly on crying," I say, my voice low, tears now rolling down. I'm not angry but I'm not happy either. 

"I don't like you crying," he says, "I don't like crying. It hurts." Ellis traces circles on my arm, connecting the freckles and moles along it up to my elbow. "And you're crying, which means it hurts for you."

I can't even look at him. 

Tilting his head and chin up, he sighs and swallows hard. "I never cried until she died." 

"Huh?" I say, confused, watching his neck and jaw tense, then relax. "Before who?"

"Nan, my nan." he says quietly, turning his head. His hand falls to my knee. I can feel his breath against my thigh. "Before that, never." 

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I stroke his hair until he falls asleep to the memory of it and I do to - of a little boy all by himself, out in the rain, talking to no one and hoping for someone, anyone to tell him there would be better days ahead.