Ghost Of You (A Novella)

Chapter Twenty-One (REWRITTEN)

"Twister? Why in the world would you choose that?" Chase rolled his eyes, his deep voice raising at least four octaves.

Sebastian simply shrugged, "Ladies Choice." He didn't really care what movie they watched so long as Avery was here. Whatever she wanted was fine with him. Actually, that was a lie. He wasn't all about those sappy romance movies. If he had to suffer through The Notebook one more time...

Avery, on the other hand, had been more strategic with her planning, scouring the internet for the quote about cows Sebastian had once used. She was holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, something would spark a memory of their unnatural time together.

"Lame," his friend groaned.

But Sebastian was undeterred, "She's from Indiana, dude-probably relates."

Freezing mid-chew, Avery coughed, desperately hoping she didn't spit her pizza out. She had never told him where she was from. "I never told you that."

"Yes, you did."

"No..." she sat her pizza aside now, appetite completely diminished. Was his subconscious finally leaking into his awakened state? Maybe she hadn't needed to pick that specific movie. "Pretty sure I didn't."

"Oh," he pursed his lips. "Well, someone did." He had to have heard it somewhere, there was no way he could have picked that state correctly from the other forty-nine by random. Maybe it was his mom? It could have been the news broadcast at the diner, he didn't know.

Chase chuffed, "That explains the accent."

"I don't have an accent!" Why do people keep saying that? Other than the word "ya'll," she didn't see the difference in her personal linguistics compared to Sebastian's. It sounded all the same to her.

"You do," the guys chirped simultaneously, their life-long friendship making them more like twins than just friends.

"Whatever."

"You're not seriously entertaining this." Chase threw his head back, exasperated. He pinched the bridge of his nose, this girl was already putting a wedge between him and Sebastian and they're only fighting over a movie. "Surviving the Apocalypse just came out on video! I've been waiting forever to see it!" Technically, he had been waiting on his friend to get out of a damn coma, but that's not the point.

Sebastian curled his lip, "No one wants to watch post-apocalyptic crap and you can thank the writers of The Walking Dead for that."

"Right! There's nothing they have done that's proved to me that fighting for my life would be worth it," Avery jumped in, with wide, excited eyes. Finally. A hill she would die on. "Like, who really wants that? We're going to flee into the woods and rebuild society with a machete, a can of green beans, and a piece of chewing gum? No thanks, I'd rather be taken out immediately."

Sebastian rose to the occasion, agreeing whole-heartedly, "Oh, for sure! Why would I want to live through that? Cold showers suck."

"And lack of hygiene essentials? Is survival really more important than deodorant? Zombies could smell you for miles-it's not realistic!"

Chase wanted to insert how zombies themselves are not realistic but he didn't get any further than the slight opening of his mouth.

Sebastian slapped a hand against his leg, "Exactly! And everyone out there havin' sex like they didn't last shower two months ago? Give me a break!"

"The fact that I couldn't grab Taco Bell on a whim is enough for me. Kill me now, please."

"Yes! Same!" He practically screamed at Avery, his voice cracking with ellation. They would both sell their right kidney for some Taco Bell-he was in love.

Rubbing his head to ward off an oncoming headache, Chase sighed, "I can't deal with you two right now. Just start the stupid show."

By the time the movie had ended, Chase was asleep, his light snores background noise against the credits; Sebastian had finished the last slice of pizza, rubbing his overstuffed belly in heavenly satisfaction; Avery was disappointed the quote he had once been so excited about received no reaction from him at all. Frustrated, she excused herself shortly after to the dismay of both of her male counterparts.

***

Avery scrutinized her new paintings through watery eyes. It had only now become clear to her that each consecutive one got a little lighter and a little brighter until Shadow Sebastian began to take a more realistic form. There were four in total now, each one having the same colors as its predecessor-black, gray, and dark blue. The problem started with number two, where she had added a deep red. Number three had all four colors, plus a burnt orange. And then there was fancy number four, with its dirty white and muted darks and all she really wanted to do was rip the offensive series apart. Why in the world would she pick those colors?

Had she been so zoned out she hadn't remembered color theory?

However, the more she studied it, the more she decided it worked rather well. Following the rules and going with the grain had never gotten her paintings on the market, so why not rebel? Consciously this time, of course.

So she sat and started piece number five while Sebastian was still in the hospital, and dreaming of her.