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Eva leaned back in the passenger seat after hearing one of the worst three (four, technically) words known to man.
“It'll be fun.”
Neil's idea of fun and Eva’s idea of fun... actually had quite a bit of overlap, but this was not one of those times.
They'd just finished a case set in perpetual back and forth between spring and autumn, with the patient wanting nothing more than an eternal fall. Even after turning some of the sensory simulators off, the whole affair left Eva with a lingering chill that was untouched by the summer heat. The consequences of her affliction were dire; she let Neil drive.
The dry, icy breeze of the air conditioner was unappealing. Instead, they rode with the car windows partially down, humid summer air ruffling their hair and supplementing their idle conversation. They were (half-heartedly, Eva had to admit) discussing the ethics of weekly comic updates when Neil spotted it.
A small, easy to miss, but well worn expanse of compacted dirt. A street lamp laden path that vanished into the woods. A cluster of unlit cabins by the side of a lake. Mildly interesting. So, in all his spontaneous glory, Neil swung the car into the makeshift parking lot.
He wanted to look around.
“Sounds like a horror movie in the making,” Eva said. She glanced down the path of tamped down earth lined with dull orange street lamps.
“Good thing you're with a trope master.”
“Still...”
With the car standing still, sweat started to build up on her skin. She felt it everywhere. Everything, including her own thoughts, felt slower, heavier. She slogged through the facts before her.
It was probably a summer camp closed for the season. Her reasoning? It was around nine in the evening, too early for every cabin to be pitch black, especially with the smattering of lights from houses across the lake. No self-respecting group of kids at summer camp would be sleeping at nine in the evening, much less the camp councilors and staff. It was also late August, nearly September, late enough for kids to be back in school. Also, the parking lot and the path were lit—but empty. The risk of happening upon someone else was minimal. It probably would be harmless to poke around the campground for a bit and see what was left behind, just for the sake of it.
Oh no, had she just talked herself into it?
“Might be a good walk.”
“Yes!” Neil punched the air in victory. He tumbled out of the car in excitement. And completely forgot about the still running engine. Which Eva reprimanded him for.
Once they made sure the car would be back when they returned, Eva wiped the sweat off her forehead for what must have been the tenth time that day. They were near a lake, not a swamp—why did it feel otherwise? Her dress shirt was in the middle of an intimate mating dance with her skin, ignoring her stern disapproval of the act. Shameful, really. She wasn't sure how Neil wasn’t sulking. He leaned against the car, one hand fanning himself, the other tugging at his collar.
“Thought you hated the heat.” Eva said as she stood beside him, plucking at her shirt.
“Oh, rest assured, my dear Eva, I loathe it.” Neil tugged off his tie and shoved it in the back pocket of his pants. Not the worst idea. “I am spurred forward solely by the spirit of adventure.”
A rivulet of sweat slid down the dip of Eva’s spine. Desperation took over. She fumbled with her dress shirt’s many buttons and stripped it off, tying it around her waist. The tank top beneath it was far better than any sense of propriety. She removed her own tie, pulled her long hair into a high ponytail, and tried to use said tie to keep her hair off her neck.
It was on the third failed attempt that Eva heard an amused snort. Neil gently swatted her hands away.
“I got it; I got it.”
The sudden weight of his palm on her neck almost made Eva jump. Thankfully, the sensation didn't linger. He swept her hair and a non-negligible amount of sweat into a deft ponytail using her second least favorite tie. Eva twisted around and wasn't surprised to see the pride in his eyes.
Instead of indulging him with a compliment—surely being too smug was bad for ones health, Eva inspected the (surprisingly well done) ponytail in the car mirror. He was never one for subtlety, so she caught Neil leaning back to gauge her reaction.
“What?” Eva asked, tucking a few loose strands behind her ears.
“Nothing,” Neil’s gaze shifted to his shirt, hands working to unbutton it and tie it around his waist. “Getting ready for the great unknown.”
They meandered down the road, stamping down the dirt and leaving nary a cloud of dust in their wake. They dipped in and out of each street lamp’s pool of orange-yellow light. Tall, imposing trees stood behind the lights, the realm of beasts and mystery. The forest bustled with activity: the frantic chirp of crickets, the occasional rustle of an animal, the hoot of an owl.
“We look ready to get our hands dirty, you know?” He spun around to face her, walking backwards for a few steps before stopping.
“Crawl spaces or action movies?” Eva could see the outfit working. A rugged, chiseled action star forced out of retirement by old foes. Attacked at their mundane office job. They would toss off the shackles of the corporate grind—a poorly ventilated dress shirt—and dispense justice. Or something like that. It didn't really suit her or the wet mop of a man before her, but she let him continue.
“I’m thinking heist movie. We could find gold or maybe some jewels. Steal the goods, sell them on the black market, escape the feds, sail around the world in a yacht.”
“We'll probably just find empty soda cans and cigarette butts.” Eva hooked a finger through one of his belt loops as she passed, dragging him forward. There were some obligatory sounds of protest despite his immediate compliance.
“Although,” Eva continued, “sailing around the world in a yacht does sound nice.”
“You see the vision!”
That seemed to be enough for him.
The tight forest path finally broke into a cluster of cabins by the lake with a large, foreboding tree sat by the dock. According to the sign they passed, the place was called Camp Fitzgerald. It was, according to Neil, a place that sounded like every camper had a trust fund or two. It was, to Eva, a stray thought from the patient’s memories. She'd only ever seen it in early spring.
Focus.
Trust funds. Entitled kids. Underpaid staff.
Pretentiousness aside, it must have recently closed for the season. The bits and pieces of the camp laying about were too fresh, all of them hinting to a recent celebration. The tail ends of streamers hung from empty cabins, swaying in the much welcomed lakeside breeze. Dim safety lights made up for the overcast sky, lending the space an eerie glow. It reminded Eva of a memory of a memory, scattered and broken. She could put the pieces together if she could pry a little more, just a little more.
So much for not lingering.
“Happy now?” Eva slung Neil forward, letting go of the belt loop and setting him loose. He stumbled over an empty soda can. The crunch made her wince.
“Nope! Time to poke around.”
Eva groaned out loud as he took off. An unfortunate mix of curious and reluctant, she followed. The patient's memories of this place had been fragmented, only seen in passing from the road they had come from. Everything Eva saw was new and up to her interpretation.
The log cabins were cute, styled to look older than they were. Every building was slightly elevated with a short ramp leading to a sturdy looking porch surrounded by stocky squared railing to match the dark wood.
Neil stomped up the ramp and onto the porch of one of the largest buildings. It managed to be foreboding despite it matching the camp’s “cozy” pastiche of an old fashioned log cabin. The trampled and compact ground and the many desire paths radiating to and from the building assured Eva of its importance. It was also the building closest to the lake’s edge. Eva took her time walking over.
The camp staff had done their best to clean up, but had left countless artifacts behind. Each shadow was another story: a forgotten hairbrush, a flip flop wedged in a log pile, the battered dream catcher hovering above Neil’s head.
Neil crouched by the building's double doors, pressing his ear against the wood like he was cracking a safe. Peering through the door’s window, Eva could see lunch tables folded and stacked up against the walls. The minimal light made them threatening, like they were lying in wait to snap up the next round of kids. Before Eva could say anything, Neil rose, scampered down the ramp, and around the building's corner.
“You're practically begging to be murdered,” Eva called out. She wiped sweat off her forehead. Why was Neil making her chase after him in such oppressive heat? Probably because he had the car keys and was effectively holding her hostage. Well, there had to be worse people to be held hostage by. In theory.
Rounding the corner, she spotted him clambering up a stack of wooden crates right beneath a high window. The smell of burnt food tickled Eva’s nose. Must have been the kitchen, the boxes stacked up to steal snacks in the middle of the night.
“Jokes on you,” Neil said as he tried to push the window open. It didn’t budge. The boxes did, creaking and swaying from his efforts. “There's not enough of us here to summon a serial killer. Has to be at least four people and Rob and Roxie aren't with us.”
“And your science behind that is?” Eva said as she folded her arms and watched him try to wedge his fingers beneath the windowsill.
“Rogue serial killers—damn this thing is hard to open—are attracted to large groups of campers, bonus points for a couple sneaking off to canoodle.”
“Canoodle? Really?” she asked with a laugh.
“I'm trying to avoid foul language. This movie's probably PG-13 at most. You get one f-bomb and that’s it. Anymore cursing and your rating gets bumped up.” The boxes creaked louder. “Think of the children and all that. Unless you want to make this rated R.” Neil shoved his shoulder against the window frame with considerable effort.
“It will be if you don’t get off of those boxes.”
Right on cue, the boxes cried out, the fragile wood bending. The risk of falling finally made Neil jump off of his perch.
“You gotta appreciate the tropes,” Neil said as he dusted off his hands. “I’m the funny guy! I’d either die first or be the second to last. You’re the smart one, so you’d be pretty high up there too. Maybe even the final girl. Or I could save you at the last minute by killing the killer by accident. Classic. And if we were...” He paused. “Anyways, you get it.” He waved his hand, dismissing the conversation like he wasn’t the one who had brought it up.
If she hadn’t known Neil for most of her life she would have put some thought into that record skip. But he’d always been like that, letting the space between his words do the talking for him. So when he brushed past her and walked towards the sole, massive tree by the lake’s edge, she responded with hesitation. It took a moment for him to realize she wasn’t following his lead. A flicker of surprise passed over his face, then a moment of what passed for shame in his eyes. Neil bowed forward slightly, gesturing towards the lake like a he was asking ushering her into a ballroom.
“Where are my manners? Ladies first.”
A classic Wattsian response.
They meandered to the lakeside, following the tamped down earth to the water. An empty dock and a large, widely branched tree welcomed them. More solar powered safety lights glowed on the dock’s posts, breaking through the darkness. The lights from house windows glimmered across the lake from homes too expensive for either of them to even dream of owning. The tree swayed in the breeze as they approached the lake’s shore. Even in the dim light, Eva could see the bark was scratched and worn with carvings. What they said, was another story.
“Hey, what's that?” Neil shot forward and stumbled down the gravel shoreline to whatever caught his eye. The tree coils could be inspected later. She joined him by the lake’s edge. He held up his prize, a golden chain with what looked to be a teardrop at the end. Even in the dark, Eva could tell it had been gold at some point but it was now covered in algae and other muck.
“Told you we’d find treasure,” Neil said, stumbling back up the slope, necklace held out in triumph before him. “Heist movie, here we come.”
“Put it back.” Eva folded her arms, tone final.
“You worry too much, Eves. What's the worst that could hap—”
The gravel gave out beneath him. He flailed about, a blur of gangly limbs and strained grunts—falling forward and landing with a crisp crunch. At least he didn't fall into the water. The necklace flew out of his hand and, keen to the plot, it landed by Eva’s feet. She gingerly picked it up.
“It's cursed!” Neil cried out as he scrambled to his feet. “See, that proves that we're in some kind of a horror movie. Probably paranormal.”
“I don't know about that. I thought that was excellent comedic timing.”
Upon closer inspection, the necklace wasn't a teardrop but one half of a heart, like the ones expected of close relations. It was covered in algae from sitting in the lake for who knew how long. The necklace had been beautiful once. Though, to Eva, it was still beautiful now. The engraved initials were too covered in grime for Eva to make anything out, but it didn’t matter. Whatever their names were, this necklace was missing its kin, its other half. Where was it now? What was the other half of the story? Was it tucked away in a jewelry box for safe keeping? Did they toss it into the lake in a fit of rage at their other half, surrendering their love to the waves lapping at the shore?
Neil had returned to her side some time ago, peering over her shoulder the entire time.
“Cursed.” Neil hissed under his breath.
“You picked it up.”
A harsh, sudden wind blew across the lake before dying off just as quickly. It was accented by a soft, strange rustle from the boughs above. They looked up. Countless ribbons and strings of various colors, necklaces, and charms swayed in the breeze, tied to almost every bough and branch. Squinting, Eva could make out letters and hearts.
Letters that probably matched some of the etchings on the trunk. Sat by the water’s edge, leaves weighed down by the heavy air. Wider than the two of them put together, its bark was scarred by the hands of campers leaving love notes and confessions. As they walked around the massive tree trunk, Eva ran her hand against the many hearts and initials within them, feeling the bumps and ridges of burgeoning love. Maybe the other half was still tied to a branch, missing its partner.
“I’m not even going to dignify this spot with an analysis.” Neil said as he trailed after her.
“What, too challenging for you?” Eva turned over the necklace in her hand.
“This, dear Eva, is the worst extension of a trope. Near cliche, even. It’s too obvious.” He prodded at the nearest pair of initials, running a finger along the letters.
“Subtlety is a virtue,” Neil said. “Too heavy-handed and the audience will lose their suspension of disbelief. Too gentle and they'll feel cheated.” Eva followed his hand, hoping to find potential matches. He traced each letter with surprising tenderness. The smarmy attitude he projected wavering for a moment, until he noticed her watching.
The spell broke.
“I don't know why I'm bothering with someone who doesn't respect the literature,” Neil said.
“The... literature?” Eva scoffed. “Like those trashy romance animes we like to watch?”
“Yes, the literature and its tried and true tropes!” Up went Neil's hands, flinging his frustration to the wind. Amused, Eva leaned against the tree to watch his latest rant on her impaired media literacy. “You know, sharing an umbrella in the rain, rooftop confessions, the quintessential wall pin.” Neil slammed his hand against the tree trunk and leaned against it. “The kabedon!”
“Was that necessar—”
“Yes!” Neil said, cutting her off. “It’s a shoujo cornerstone! Despite its origin in that particular genre, it bleeds over to other areas because it just works.”
“Sure, let's go with that.”
“Wait,” Neil said, looking up at the branches above them.
Eva followed his line of sight without thinking. When she couldn't see anything interesting, she turned back around only to see the blurred form of a man swinging forward with a maniacal smile. He planted his other palm right beside her head. She was, in fact, boxed in.
Shock rose up from deep within and threatened to spill all over her face. Quick to act, Eva dug her nails into her upper arms. The slight pricking pain on her bare skin diluted the surprise, spreading it across her body; her toes curled, her legs tensed, and her jaw grew tight. Maybe there were some benefits to him constantly trying to prank her.
“Can't believe you actually fell for that. Now you've been caught in my cliche.” He looked down at her, searching her face for a reaction, a foothold for the next snarky comment.
“Oh no. How terrible.” How did she manage to say that so calmly when her throat was still fighting down her surprise?
Unfortunately for him, Eva was just as practiced with keeping her emotions in line as Neil was with dodging questions. Both under-appreciated arts.
“Seriously?” Good—he deserved to be disappointed. “Thought you'd at least flinch...”
Eva’s heart was still slamming around her rib cage in a bid for freedom—but he didn't need to know that.
“Guess I don't respect the classics.” She tilted her chin up akin to royalty. Calm. Composed. Noble even. A slight, condescending smirk appeared to support the supposed air of superiority she had cultivated over the years. Playing into the ridiculous game.
“Obviously not,” Neil said, tossing his head to get a few strands of hair out of his face. Eva expected him to step back at that. Instead, he stood still, leaning forward, squinting.
“Nothing? You sure? Not even a little spooked?”
“I’m very sure, trope master.”
It was not like Eva Rosalene to say such a blatant lie but exceptions made the rules.
“Thank you for finally recognizing my authority.”
The last slivers of moonlight were lost to the clouds. The dim safety lights around the camp and the flickering lights across the lake were the only signs that there was a world beyond her and the man before her. The coy, teasing look she was always happy to see on Neil’s face slipped away.
Focus on anything else. The heavy air, the persistent heat, the wind picking up. The slight chill in its wake. Eva’s nails dug deeper into her skin. It had worked earlier, to keep her level, to keep her grounded. Her nails clawed ever deeper in a vain attempt to silence the speeding heartbeat mocking her attempted stoicism by thundering in her ears, like it wanted to drown out any common sense.
Night wrapped around them, comforting and cool. It only made sense for the darkness to draw them closer. For Eva to shift her weight forwards. For Neil to tilt his head just so. It was dark—they didn't want to lose each other.
Light sparked across the heavens. Both of them looked up to see a small galaxy of gold, blue, and silver sparkling in the light. Endless possibilities.
Then the world split in two.
An earth shattering noise jerked them both to attention. A torrential downpour came next. Neil sprung forward, swallowing Eva up in his arms, a well meaning but vain attempt to keep her dry. Futile, but appreciated. All she got was inundated by the scent of sandalwood soap, sweat, and what she could only describe as undeniably Neil. Eva shoved him away, frantic and overwhelmed. They detangled and ran back to the mess hall, sniping at each other the entire way back.
They stumbled into the covered porch, safe and relatively dry. Both of them flopped back against the double doors, safe from the storm. There was some merit to taking off their dress shirts earlier—they could use the mostly dry fabric to wipe off what they could. They eventually sat against the mess hall door, both with their knees drawn to their chest.
The average human body strived to maintain an average temperature of approximately 98.5 Fahrenheit degrees or about 37 degrees Celsius, aiming to be neither too hot or too cold. If said body was too cold, say after getting caught in an ice cold summer thunderstorm, it would need to restore balance. There were many ways to compensate. See: reducing blood flow to extremities, shivering, and searching for external sources of heat.
That was why they sat so close, the bare skin of their arms pressed against the other. She leaned into him, unsurprised but still rather flustered at the weight of him leaning back. At least the slight chill from the rain was losing ground against Neil’s body heat. Any burgeoning shivers were subdued. Eva still found herself scooting a bit closer, so their legs and sides were pressed against each other and a little more warmth came through. Knees grazed against the others.
Excuses, excuses.
“Not my best idea.”
“Also not your worst,” Eva said. A shiver ran through her. She felt his arm start to raise, like he was about to slide it around her. He thought better of it and opted to lean against her a bit more instead. “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry, I'm like a space heater. Though you're pretty warm yourself.”
“That. And for, you know, for trying to cheer me up. It worked.” If it weren't for the fact they'd stopped their little adventure she would have forgotten entirely.
“What are you talking about?” Neil asked, his gaze locked on the cabins across the way. “Life imitates art. I'm merely pointing out the inspiration for countless works across time and space—”
“Neil.”
He sighed.
“Isn't that what, uh, what friends are for?”
The place where their skin met flared warmer for a moment.
“Yeah. I guess that's what you're here for.”
“Yeah. That's what I'm here for.”
The moment settled, soft and cozy. At least until Eva shifted a bit, gold chain shimmering in her hand.
“Are you kidding me?” Neil reared back a bit. Eva followed. “You still have that thing? It's fucking haunted!”
“Seriously? When could I have dealt with it while we were running from the rain?” Eva hissed. Why did she expect anything more from him? Cucumbers forbid they have an honest moment of peace. But there she was, laughing because she couldn’t dream of wanting anything else.
Eva held the necklace up by its delicate and discolored chain, letting it sway in the storm’s wind. It somehow managed to glimmer in the dim light.
“Wait.” Eva snapped upright and looked at him. “That’s what you used your one f-bomb for?”
“Why are you judging me for saying fuck?”
“And now the movie's rated R.”
“A worthy sacrifice for creative fucking integrity.”
“I don't know, maybe it's fate.” Eva said. “Maybe I'm supposed to reunite the ghost with their long-lost lover.” The way Neil lit up at those words made her heart flutter. God, of all the things to find charming.
“Well, I found it first, so—”
“—Well, I still have it, so—”
“So what, the ghost likes you more?”
“Pretty much.” Eva shrugged, wrapping the slender chain around her fingers before resting her hand on her knee. “It knows I'll get the job done.”
Neil snorted, folded his arms across his chest, and took to sulking. Sulking while still leaning into her, but sulking nonetheless.
“We should at least put the necklace back on the tree.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to be haunted by some ghost.”
“You’re still on that?”
“You think otherwise?” Neil nudged her with his shoulder. “Impress me with your media analysis skills, trope master in training.”
Well, it was something to talk about.
“First, we're still alive.”
“Last I checked.”
“Second, there's too much ambiguity. Finding the camp was a horror movie set up, sure, but the car probably still works. And you still have the keys,” Eva said. Neil nodded, pulling aforementioned keys out of his pocket for effect. “I don't think the necklace is an omen.” She squinted at the half-heart, squinting at it like she could parse out any potential curses. When nothing came of it, she continued. “Then we have the ‘dark and stormy night’ in an isolated location. Terrifying, but we weren't hit by lightning, and nothing came from the depths of the lake.”
“That we know of.”
“That we know of. Also, we made it to shelter just fine. Granted, the rain is too heavy for us to go anywhere, but we’re safe. Stuck here, but safe.”
“At the mercy of the elements and isolated from the rest of mankind.” He leaned towards her, his usual smug smile on his face. “There could be bears, Eves. Bears.”
“Good thing I run faster than you.”
And she should leave it at that. Never mind that she'd skipped over the tree. Never mind how they had been so close to each other beneath its love-laden boughs, she could hear him breathe. Never mind that the guise of night emboldened them, hiding their actions from a self-imposed audience. Never mind the way her whole body had prickled with so much anticipation that she found herself easing forward, upwards…closer. Her body was recreating that vicious feeling. Best not tread close to that, no matter how much she wanted to.
Neil tilted his head at her, a familiar look on his face. It was almost curiosity, but laced with something hovering on the precipice of teasing and serious, ready to shift at her slightest urging.
Wasn't that why they let the space do the talking? Letting the unsaid whisper between each rain drop, where the steady rainfall and breaks in the heat would fill the space between them. Or lack of space between them. Every time her body was close to acclimating to his warmth, one of them would shift, starting the process all over again.
“And?”
Or Neil could use his words for once.
“You said the tree wasn't worth an analysis.” He had called it heavy-handed, yet he was throwing the weight at her to catch? Typical. “But you've changed your mind, so I'll have to consider it. Without the tree, you have a stronger argument for horror. With it? Better foundation for—”
Strange. The words would not come out. She was normally decent at speaking. She could taste them on the tip of her tongue, mixing with the smell of fresh rain and sandalwood.
Slight smile, mildly raised eyebrows, towards that eager, peering face that made her stomach turn. She felt her skin prickle where they touched, a bidding sensation coming from the word bouncing around in her head. There she was, mouth agape, on the cusp of stammering because she couldn't objectively say that the culmination of the emotions whipping through her like a whirlwind all centered around one thing.
Neil poked at the bit of chain wrapped around her pinky finger before speaking.
“It’s like one of those cheesy TV romance movies, isn't it?” He laughed, more for preserving his pride than for her amusement. “Not that—”
“I love those!” Eva blurted out, the volume making Neil flinch. Oh, there were the words. They made the dream catcher clatter and almost drowned out a peal of thunder from above.
“I, uh, like those cheesy romance movies. I like them.” A nervous laugh bubbled out. “I like them a lot. Haven't seen one in a while.”
“Same. Maybe later…?”
“I'd love to.”
For a moment, there was nothing but the harsh rainfall, the trees, and the wind whispering secrets in the night air. Her face felt warm. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she now lay her head on his shoulder. A light, trembling touch grazed Eva’s hand. She kept her eyes trained ahead on the bowing branches and flickering lamps,. but she went with the motion, the sensation. She linked her pinky with his.
Were small gestures meant to be this exciting?
Her hand slipped into the small space where their knees met. Nary a word was exchanged as Neil's hand danced over her own, fingers eventually meshing together. His thumb ran against the back of her hand. Content to remain in silence, they watched the storm roll on with muffled thunder in the distance. Narrative analysis could come later, preferably when they were warm, dry, and curled up on Eva’s couch.