CHAPTER SIX 

❝ Is it true that dreams are the way our unconscious delivers messages to us? If it is, then my unconscious had many messages for me last night. I think I had like five dreams. And I also think my unconscious wants me running around naked in the snow. Sorry, pal. Not gonna happen. ❞

Elle's journal: The Europe Trip, day 11, entry nº1

That night, Elle dreamed with her aunt. She dreamed many things, but the dream that managed to wake her up in the middle of the night was about her aunt and the day she died.

In the dream Elle was back in the hospital room, holding her aunt's hand and whispering random words at her. But Aunt Jenny wasn't responding. She couldn't respond.

Elle was telling Jenny about her day, about this boy she liked, about the excellent grade she had gotten on that one test she had been studying for the week before.

And then, in just a heartbeat, everything changed. Because her unconscious aunt's heart stopped beating.

When Elle's parents came, minutes later, Elle was crying next to the empty bed. The doctors had tried, but it had been useless.

And so, as soon as she saw her parents, Elle began yelling, louder that she ever had before. Because it was all their fault.

❄

When Elle woke up, tears were streaming down her face. Her whole body was shaking, but she wasn't cold at all. Stelle had left the fireplace lit up for them not to freeze, so she could clearly see Connor next to her on the floor, his chest moving up and down in regular motion.

Elle tried to go back to sleep, and even if that sofa was the best thing she had had to sleep in for more than a week, she still couldn't close her eyes without going back to that horrible night.

Elle let out a long, exhausted sigh, and sat back up on the sofa. To get out of it, she had to be very careful not to step on Connor. Once she was out, Elle walked towards the kitchen and leaned on the counter to stare out the window.

It was raining harder than earlier. The little yet strong droplets made the whole house roar and, for a second, Elle was almost sure that the smallest gust of wind would tear it all down.

Elle had always liked rain. When she was a little girl, right before her dad had decided to dedicate his life to watching sports on their new plasma, the two of them would go out and play every single time it rained. Sometimes, even her mom and her siblings would go out, too, and for those few minutes, it would feel like they were a real family.

That didn't happen anymore. And it probably never would again.

"Elle?"

Elle turned around to see Connor standing by the doorway. He was rubbing one of his hands on his face and his hair was all messy, going up in all the wrong directions.

"Hi," she said, a soft smile taking over her lips. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Hi. You are up quite early," he said, taking a few steps on her direction. "What's up?"

"I don't really want–"

"To talk about it? It seems to me like you need to."

Elle didn't know what to do. Tell him? Lie to him? Keep it a secret? Walk away?

"I–" she began saying, not that she actually knew what would come out of her mouth.

"You can tell me. I promise," Connor said, and he sounded so sincere that Elle actually considered it.

The Connor she had in front of her in that moment wasn't the Connor that teased and smirked. He was the Connor that didn't give up, the Connor that got mad, the Connor that seemed determined to fix everything.

"My aunt died," she blurted out, her eyes on the cold tiled floor. "She was... the only person that really understood me, you know? She was careless, and free, and everything I ever wanted to be," she paused for a while. Her eyes didn't move, and Connor didn't say anything. So she just kept talking. "Now she is just gone. And I don't know what to do about that."

When Elle raised her eyes to look up at Connor, she saw something in his eyes she hadn't expected. It wasn't sadness, or playfulness, or even pity. It was understanding.

"How long has it been?" he asked her.

"Three weeks, I think."

"Let me share something with you, then," he said, taking a few more steps in her direction. "It will be hard. Very hard, getting over her death. It will take plenty of time." He paused, waiting to see if she was listening. Once she nodded, he continued. "But you will get over it. Eventually."

They both stared at each other for a while. And then Elle said the one thing that had been on her mind for a while but she was too afraid to say out loud. "What if I don't want to get over it?"

Connor smiled at her sadly. "It's not like you are going to forget her or anything. She will still be there. The only thing that will change is that her memory won't hurt so much anymore."

"How can you be so sure?" Elle asked, tears running down her cheeks. Tears that, this time, she didn't feel like wiping away. Tears she didn't want to wipe away.

"I... I lost someone I cared about, too," Connor said.

He looked so calm, so collected. Elle had to wonder how he did it. How someone could get over something like the death of someone they loved.

"Oh," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"How long ago..."

"A year and a half."

"And... are..." Elle didn't know if she should ask. But she wanted to. So she did. "Are you over it?"

Connor run a hand through his already messy hair. "Most of the time," he said, not looking at her. His eyes and his mind somewhere far away from that small kitchen and that small town. "It... can get rough every now and again."

"Where you two close?" She wanted to see how similar she was to him. A part of her was afraid that the conversation was hurting him as much as it was hurting her. But the truth was, she needed it. She really did.

And, apparently, he knew that too. "Four. My brothers."

Elle didn't understand where he was going with that. "The ones you told me about? What do they have to do with this?"

"Yeah, the triplets I told you about," he said, and his eyes were deeply into hers when he added, "They died in a car accident."

"Oh. God," Elle whispered. She knew every trace of colour had left her face, and she was glad for the darkness of the night. "I'm so sorry," she kept saying, but it still didn't seem like enough. "I can't even imagine how..."

"Don't," he said, sternly, walking the few steps that separated the two of them. "This is you we are talking about here."

His hands were on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. It shocked her, how she could see the determination to make her understand in his eyes, instead of the pain she'd thought she'd find.

They stayed like that for a while, his hands eventually falling down into hers.

"Elle, I... I really hope you find your way back."

Tears where peering at the corners of her eyes again. She didn't want to feel that way. She hated feeling that way. But he was right. She felt lost. And she didn't know how to get back. Or where. Why.

"That's the thing," she said, trying to fight the huge lump she seemed to have on her throat. "I don't feel like I have anything to get back to anymore."

Connor blinked a couple of times and frowned before answering. "What about your brother? Or your parents?"

"My mom is bipolar. I mean, not really, but she can be quite tiring without even trying. And she is trying most of the time. And she lies. A lot. My dad is a sports junkie. His whole day consists on seating in a sofa, watching some random game of anything he finds on the TV. My brother took the first chance he got to run away from us, call it college in another country or marring a foreign girl and going to live with her in Croatia. And my younger sister, she's a cheerleader and a whore and only acknowledges me when she has to."

 "Sounds like a happy family to me."

Elle laughed through her tears.

"Can I tell you the one thing I got from all of that?"

Elle nodded.

"You have a family. They might not be the best one out there. They might not even seem to care about you. But you have one. That is a lot more than many other people have."

"I know."

"I hated my brothers. At least, that is what I told everyone. I had to loose them to realise just how much I actually cared about them. Don't let that happen to you, too. Okay?"

She knew he was lying. She could see it in his eyes, in his posture, in the way he looked at her. And she was sure he knew that she was aware of it. He probably had been the best of friends with his brothers. But he was trying to make her feel better. And even if Elle hated lies more than anything, she was thankful for that one.

"Okay." She nodded.

Connor smiled. "Good girl, tough girl."

Elle smiled, and it somehow felt right despite everything else she was feeling. "Where did this mature version of you come from?" she asked. She felt calm now. Connor seemed to have that effect on her.

Connor chuckled and shrugged. "I have many secrets, love."

"Right. And don't call me that ever again."

Connor smiled down at her, his face close to hers, and Elle smiled back.

"Come on, we should go back to sleep."

❄

When Elle woke up the next morning, Connor wasn't on the floor anymore.

She stayed on the sofa for a while, bringing back memories of the night. Memories of her and Connor talking in the kitchen. She couldn't believe she had told him. She hadn't talked about what had happened to her aunt with anyone. Until then. Until him.

Would he look at her differently? She probably wouldn't be tough girl anymore. She was the girl who had lost her aunt no less than four weeks ago. Would he still joke around her? Tease her about absolutely everything? Would he still treat her the same?

Elle hadn't come to Strand expecting to make friends. Yet that was exactly what she had found in Connor, the annoying British boy she thought had stolen her phone. And she really didn't want to loose what they had because of a teary conversation.

Many people Elle had once been close to had pushed her away. Like her aunt's death had also rubbed on her and would on anyone who went near her. Others were desperate to make her feel better. Others were so uncomfortable around her that they weren't able to speak coherently, like they had to think absolutely everything through before actually saying it.

And the funniest thing was that none of their efforts actually helped. Because all she wanted was to have her aunt back. To feel normal again.

So, as Elle walked into the kitchen that morning, she wondered in which of the three categories would Connor fit. Or would he maybe create one of his own?

The first thing Elle saw when she walked in was Connor and Stelle laughing.  They looked like they had known each other for years. Like a grandmother and her grandson having fun while cooking breakfast. It was funny, how you could get to know some people so well after just a couple of days.

"Oh, hi there!" Stelle smiled at Elle as she took a seat in the little kitchen table.

"Hi," Elle answered, smiling back at her. "What are we having for breakfast?"

"Eggs and bacon," Connor answered. He then transferred the eggs from the frying pan into a plate and the delicious smell flooded the room.

"How American of you," Elle teased, and to her relief, Connor smirked.

"You know, your ancestors are probably British, so you don't get to diss on me or my country," he said as he left the plate on the table.

Elle rolled her eyes at him and they sat around the table.

For the first time in a long time, Elle felt all right. Safe, even. Everything seemed to be the same as the day before between her and the boy sitting next to her. And it wasn't until Elle smiled at that thought that she realised just how much she was beginning to like spending time with Connor.

When she looked up from her plate, Elle noticed Connor's eyes were on her. She smiled at him, a little confused at the newfound intensity on his gaze. He smiled back and then quickly turned away.

"What did I miss?" Stelle asked, out of the blue, and both teenagers locked their gazes on her. She was eying them like she knew something they didn't, and Elle wasn't sure she wanted to know what that was.

"What do you mean?" Connor asked, acting like nothing had happened while pouring himself some juice.

"I think you know exactly what I mean," Stelle replied, her eyes moving from Connor to Elle and then right back.

"You know, I'm not really that hungry so I think I'll just go and get a shower. I really need one of those," Elle said and stood up.

"Oh, don't worry. We all noticed," Connor yelled behind her.

His voice was soon followed by something that sounded a lot like a slap, and then by an "ouch" that clearly came from him.

As Elle gathered her things for her shower, she laughed whole-heartedly for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Tell me what you think of the Elnor (the credit for this beautiful fandom name goes to my wattpad love, casquette) scenes in this chapter!! I'd love to know! ;)