Do What It Takes to Survive

When we returned form the bathroom once again, Gerard still only ate two pieces of bread. I ate my bread, feeling very guilty for it. I should’ve refused to eat so much, but I was selfish, and I truly believed he wouldn’t eat it if I didn’t. He was much too stubborn.

It was getting so cold that I decided to do an experiment. I gulped down must of the ice-cold water in my water bottle, but I left the bottle with a little bit of water left. I set it down on the ground and sat so close to Gerard we were almost touching.

As I shivered and rubbed the goose bumps on my arms, I watched the bottle intently. Gerard interrupted my concentration by asking, “What happened to us anyway?”

I looked away from the water so that I could stare at him intently. “What do you mean?”

“In middle school. Why did we even start disliking each other?” The look on his face showed that he really wanted to know; he really cared.

I shrugged, saying, “I don’t even remember.”

He laughed. “How horrible is that? We can’t even recall why we despise each other.”

For some unknown reason, his words cut deep into me, even though he hadn’t meant them to. “Maybe we can’t remember what started it, but does that really change anything? We still insulted each other every time possible.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right about that. We can’t just erase everything we said.”

I shook my head sadly.

“But I…” he trailed off, either trying to think of what to say or how to say it. “I’m, well… Would you forgive me? If I apologized?”

I considered that for a while. I would be able to say I forgave him, but it wouldn’t mean much if I still held a grudge against him. I pulled my eyebrows together in frustration. Why did I even have to think about this? “I don’t know,” I finally concluded.

He sighed. “Lana, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I said and did to hurt you.”

My stomach turned, because I could tell he was telling the truth. He was really sorry for everything, and that made me… happy. I liked it. Even more strangely, I meant it when I said, “I… I forgive you.”

I was even more surprised with myself when I blurted, “I’m sorry for everything I did to hurt you too, Gerard.”

He searched my eyes for a long moment, trying to detect a sign that I was lying. At last he said, “I forgive you too. I already have.”

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but I couldn’t stand looking into his eyes anymore. This time it wasn’t because I hated him. It was because of the way he looked at me. I looked back to my bottle of water and carefully picked it up.

I held it close to my face and frowned. Crystals of frost had formed on the bottle. “That’s how cold it is,” I declared, handing the bottle to Gerard.

He frowned too. “It’s colder than I thought. Maybe they’re just trying to freeze us to death.”

I shivered, but not from the cold. “It just might work,” I said. “Maybe sooner than I’m ready for.”

He looked at my warily, setting the water down. “How much do you want to stay alive?”

I was slow to reply. What was he getting at? “I would do almost anything.”

“Hm.”

I rolled my eyes. “Quit stalling and spit it out.”

He grimaced, saying, “I’m not sure if I should. You won’t like it. I’m sure of that. And you might stop talking to me again.”

“You won’t know unless you tell me,” I retorted.

“Fine,” he replied. “Don’t get mad at me.”

“I’m not promising anything of the sort,” I interrupted.

“Anyway, try not to look at this personally. Haven’t you noticed that it’s warmer when you’re curled up?”

“It’s called body heat. I’m not that stupid.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Your body’s not the only one that gives off heat.” He flinched away, as if he was afraid I would hit him.

After staring at him blankly for almost a minute, I finally got it. He meant that his body gave off heat too. I grimaced. “What exactly are you suggesting?” I did not like where this was going.

“I’m basically saying that the closer we are, the warmer we are,” he said innocently.

I groaned. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right about that,” I said, defeated.

We looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes. Finally, I scooted a few inches closer to him. He did the same, and then our shoulders were touching.

My brain was urgently telling me to get away, but I was already a little warmer. I moved even closer, pressing my leg against his. Reluctantly, I put my head on his shoulder.

It felt so wrong, though. Everything about it was wrong. If he wasn’t the only thing that could keep me warm, I would never have even considered it.

“You are warm,” I admitted, “but I still hate you.” I knew that even he could tell I was lying, though. I didn’t hate him anymore.

“I know you do,” he said for my benefit. “And you’re warm too.” He put his arm around my shoulder.

I cringed. “I hope we’re clear that this is strictly for warmth,” I shot at him.

“Crystal clear,” he murmured into my hair.

It bothered me, but it was too late to back out now that I knew it was possible to be warmer. I said, “Just don’t forget it.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Gerard said through a gruff voice. He sounded full of a deep sorrow.

I frowned and pondered why he would be so sad, but I fell asleep before I could come up with anything. It was the best I had slept in days. I slept soundly and dreamlessly, only grateful to be somewhat warm.