Chapter Forty

I took a long shower. The water dripped off me like brown muck, and I slathered soap on my body four separate times before I truly felt clean.

Ellie, didn't want to leave me, so I knew he was waiting patiently behind the bathroom door, most likely terrified that Riley would do something like Marley had done. I knew eventually I'd have to talk to him about Marley, but I wasn't sure how to talk about something that I too was having issues with.

I wish I could forget him. I wish I could forget all of it.

Riley gave me some of Joy's spare clothes to wear, and while Ellie bathed himself -which took longer than necessary to convince him to leave me and do so-, I watched Riley heat up leftover pasta in his fridge for us to eat.

The kitchen was immaculate. Sparkling gray flooring and white tiles on the walls. Everything glimmered, but it also could just be because I have not been in an actual clean house in over a month.

I lean against the counter, the food smelled delicious, and I could not remember the last time I had a real meal and not junk from a vending machine.

"Ripley," He said, his voice kinder than when we were in the shed, it reminded me of the Riley I used to know. "That boy-"

"His name is Ellie."

He shakes his head, and a familiar smile is a shadow on his lips, "Ellie, Three Eleven Thirteen. That's clever."

I smile, "Thank you, I thought so too."

"Isn't it a girl's name, though?"

"I was ten when I named him that." I defended myself, "All I remember is seeing my dad write Three Eleven Thirteen on the whiteboard, and I read the numbers like a name."

"The mind of a child is a wild thing."

I laugh a genuine laugh for the first time in weeks, "Don't patronize me."

We both fall silent, and I know what he wants to say. I do not want to hear him say it, but I do not think I have a choice. "You can't fall in love with him Ripley." He warns me, "You know you can't."

All amusement from the previous moment is gone. A heavy stone fills my chest and I pretend to ignore it, "He's all I have."

"That's not true. You can go back to school, get your diploma, go to college. You can make a life for yourself. You only think you love him because he reminds you of your father. You can not actively love a man-made being."

I roll my eyes and attempt to dilute the conversation with a lighthearted joke, "Technically we're all man-made."

He does not take the bait, "You know what I mean." He takes a deep breath, "I can help you, hell, I can enroll you in online school. Finish high school, and you can work your way into any art school you want. You still like painting, don't you?"

I nod, unable to verbally reply. Truth is, his offer was tempting. I always dreamed about art school, but I never thought I'd actually go. Riley used to joke about me being the next Picasso, and I would laugh along with him. I never believed it, though. Besides, what little hope I had of doing so died along with my father.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" I stared at the wall, really, I tried to stare at anything that was not Riley, because his persistent gaze was making me uncomfortable.

"All I'm saying is you better be damn careful. One drop of that blood of his in your body and you're as good as dead."

I say nothing because Ellie walks into the room. Riley doesn't even look at him and instead returns his gaze to the food on the stove. I give Ellie a smile, all the dirt and grime clean off him, I forgot what he looked like without it.

Riley got two bowls out of the cupboard, then hesitantly looked at me, "Does he eat yet?"

"I got him off the formula pretty quick."

"Probably for the best." He pulled out a third bowl, and we all sat around the small kitchen table. As we ate, we were silent. I knew Riley was uncomfortable around Ellie, and obviously Ellie was just as uncomfortable around him. I was unsure if they would ever get along, considering Riley was convinced that it was Ellie's fault my father died. Riley seemed to have been haunted by Ellie's existence for the past several months, probably longer, since it was his doing that Ellie was infected with the unearthly blood in the first place.

Has he been dwelling on it all these years? Regretting his actions?

I noticed that Ellie wasn't eating, in fact, all he did was stare at Riley. I thought about telling him to eat, but I knew there was not point in doing so. He looks on edge, but not nearly as bad as what he was with Marley.

The thought of Riley made my stomach twist, and my hunger evaporated into blatant disgust. I push the bowl of barely touched pasta away from me. I was exhausted, and all I craved was sleep.

Riley noticed my unwillingness to finish my food, and so he beckoned for both Ellie and I to follow him up the stairs, to another staircase at the long end of the hall.

We climbed up the steep steps, each of the creaking as I put my weight on them. We were taken to the attic, which had a few boxes of different things hiding in each corner, and a made bed against the wall. There was a single light, which to turn on we had to pull on a string. On the far end of the wall there was a window that looked out across the neighborhood. It was a fantastic view, not only was the neighborhood in sight, but a mass of large buildings from town were visible down the hill.

The room was warm without air conditioning, and a bit musty from dust, but compared to sleeping on the ground, it was wonderful.

Riley cleared his throat, "Will you two be sharing the bed?"

I don't want to make the question awkward, so I say as emotionlessly as I can, "Yes, Ellie and I have been sleeping on the hard ground for weeks."

He nods once, "Alright then." He rubs the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable that we are sharing a room, let alone the same bed. "I'll come wake you two in the morning. Joy should be gone for a few days, so I'll come up with something by then."

"Thank you, Riley." I say and mean it.

He doesn't bother saying anything more as he moves back down the stairs and shuts the attic door.