“You got a hot date, Noves?” Abigail hip-bumped her in greeting. “You look great,” Abigail sounded like she really meant it. “Thanks, and nah,” Nova had taken off her hoodie and switched out of her normal Nirvana T-shirt, put on her nice cargo pants, and wore a black T-shirt. “But you do still look emo,” Abby laughed. Nova slugged her on the arm, cracking a smile. Nova was ecstatic, even so that she did something with her long silver hair. She had put it in a braid, one that started on her scalp. “Jesus, Nova, did you get laid or something?” Abby stopped to gawk at her. “Abby, what?! No! Why would you-?” Nova looked at Abby in astonishment. “Because! You’re smiling, talking, dressing like a civilized human being! Honestly, Noves, whatever happened, keep doing it. Unless you’re high. You don’t need drugs. Wait, are you high?” “No!” “Okay,” Abigail smirked at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the saloon. Nova’s eyes scanned the heads, resting on the ash brown half-braid, half-bun over by the bar. “Oi, more whiskey?” Gus smiled at her, and she returned it, shaking her head. Eleanor swivelled around, her deep brown eyes connecting with Nova’s violet ones. They crinkled in the corners in a smile, then the sound of quickened footsteps filled Nova’s ears. “Hey,” Eleanor said, and Abigail leaned close to Nova. “Forget what I said about drugs. If it’s this kind, get addicted. Please,” That startled a laugh out of Nova, and Eleanor stopped smiling. “What?!” Nova panicked a bit. “Your laugh sounds like raindrops,” Eleanor said, and Nova didn’t exactly know what to make of that. “It’s a compliment; don’t worry,” her warm smile was enough to melt Nova’s worries away, letting her give an easy smile back. “Well, do you want some whiskey? Or should you sample a bit of Gus’s special wine?” Eleanor swayed her hips and sauntered over to the bar. “Two glasses of wine,” She told Emily, and the blue-haired woman went to the alcohol shelf. The dark yellow wine came at them at lightning speed, and Eleanor smiled. “Take a sip. You’ll never be the same again,” Nova obliged, and almost coughed the nasty concoction up. “You okay?” Eleanor asked, taking a delicate sip. “I’m never touching that again. Emily, can you get me some whiskey?” Nova pushed the glass away as Emily chuckled, handing her a glass of her favorite brand of whiskey. “How do you drink that stuff?” “It’s good,” Eleanor giggled. Nova thrust the glass of whiskey in her face. “Try this. It’ll change your life,” Nova grinned at her as she took a small sip, making a face and almost throwing it back at Nova. “Ew, what is that?” Eleanor cursed under her breath. “That’s worse than beer,” “Beer is kinda gross,” Nova agreed. “But whiskey is the king alcohol,” “No, that crap was nasty,” Eleanor giggled. “You’re crazy, Farmer,” Nova rolled her eyes, turning to meet Abigail’s staring blue eyes. “Y’all are so cute,” Abby tells her, a devilish smile slowly splitting her face. “Ugh,” Nova took another gulp of whiskey, turning so that she wasn’t facing Abby or Eleanor. “Trust me, Noves, she’ll do you good,” Abigail got up, heading to the room with the arcade and pool table. – – – Nova didn’t understand how wine made people drunk, but Eleanor definitely was. She clung to Nova’s hand as she led the very drunk farmer back to her farm. When they entered, Nova gawked. For being a beginner farmer, she was doing well. There was a fishing rod propped against the mailbox, and a few chests around the shipping bin. There was a small field of crops, and one she recognized as a small ancient fruit plant. Nova ignored the beauty of the farm and stepped on the wood paths leading up to the old farmhouse. Eleanor fumbled the doorknob and Nova helped her, practically carrying her to her bed. “‘Night, Eleanor. Drink some water when you get up, ‘kay?” – – – Nova woke up with tears in her eyes. Every breath hurt her, like she had been kicked and beaten. She didn’t even know why she was crying, so she tried to quiet her gasps and shudders from the soundless sobs. Then there was a knock at the door, and suddenly she knew why the tears were falling. The realization startled a sob out of her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself. “Nova?” “Shut up, Seb, she’s probably asleep!” Nova bolted upright, wiping at her eyes. Why were Sebastian and Abigail at her door at—she glanced at her watch—8 in the morning? Nova had never seen Seb awake before noon on the weekends. “One sec, guys!” Nova yelled, though her voice was thick enough for just Abigail to notice something was wrong. “Oh, Nova,” Abigail sighed from outside the door. Nova scrambled to find a hoodie and her makeup, quickly scrubbing her face and applying her eyeliner and mascara, along with her concealer to hide the scars on her face. --->
She opened the door to find Sebastian, Abigail, and Robin. Nova nonchalantly kicked her sword under her bed. “Hey, Nova, honey,” Robin stepped to the side to show a tall boy with light brown skin and curly brown hair. There was a tattoo of a bird on his forearm, one Nova could’ve sworn she’d seen before. He looked up at her, and she immediately realized how dead he looked. “Um,” Nova said, biting her lip. “Y’all hungry? Thirsty?” “We have others. Diana? Jerik?” Robin called, and a really old woman and a really old man came into view. The woman gasped and her eyes watered when she saw Nova. “Oh, Nova, your hair…” the woman reached up and Nova stepped back, holding up her hands. “Personal space, lady,” “You don’t remember us?” Diana looked ready to cry when Jerik placed a hand on her shoulder. “Remember? Aliyah?” The name startled a weird noise out of the boy, and he placed a hand on his tattoo. “This is Xander,” Abby gestured to him. “Oh,” Nova started to remember the people in front of her. Now she knew why the tattoo was familiar. “Oh my gosh! Xander, baby Xander? Seriously? Oh, gosh, Xan, you’ve grown so mu-” “Nova, Aliyah was sh0t,” Diana interrupted, and Nova fell silent. “Aunt Aliyah? Like, Xan’s…oh.” Nova trailed off. “Is… he okay?” “He was recently diagnosed with Cotard’s Syndrome,” Jerik said, and Nova’s brain switched on. Cotard’s, Cotard’s, Cotard’s. Then it clicked. “He thinks he’s dead?” “He was shot as well. But they were able to remove the bullet,” “So… he thinks he’s dead?” “For Yoba’s sake, Noves, yes!” Abigail threw her hands up. “...I feel like this is the wrong time to say cool…” Nova said very slowly. “You’re so thick, Nova,” Abby rolled her eyes, and Nova shrank back. “I- um…” She trailed off, retreating in her shack and picking up a half-repaired CD and studying it. She heard a small voice. “Did you get my letter?” “What?” Nova asked, turning around, her eyes settling on Xander. “I—I asked if you’ve gotten my letter,” “Probably not. The most mail I’ve gotten is from Pierre with my paycheck,” “Oh,” “Hey come get something to eat, Xan,” “I don’t need to,” “Are you hungry?” “Yeah, but what’s the point? It’s not like I’m alive,” “You are, Xan. Only your mom died,” Nova told him, and his eyes filled up. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. If I’m dead, and she’s dead, too, why can’t I see her? It doesn’t make any sense, unless you died, too,” Xander whispered, his tears forming a puddle on the weathered wood floor of her cabin. “Hey, hey don’t cry,” Even though she wasn’t big on physical affection, she hugged her baby cousin, running her hand down his back repeatedly. He hugged her back as the tear gasps quieted. Nova looked up, and Abby was smiling at her. “He’s my family,” she mouthed at the purple-haired girl. Abigail rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Nova. I’ve always wanted to meet you, but not like this,” Xander looked up at her. Even though he was clearly a lot older now, he still looked as much like her baby cousin as he always had been. “How old are you now, Xan?” “Seventeen,” “Wow, old enough to drive a car, huh? Just not enough for alcohol,” Nova took a swig of water from her bottle and Xander looked at her. “What’s that?” “Vodka, want some?” “Really?” “Nah, just water,” She offered it to him, and studying her, he took a small sip but gave it back, making a face. “Ew,” “Hmm. Maybe I did put some vodka in there. Oh well,” Nova took another gulp of whatever was in the bottle, then put it back, flicking on the dim light. “What do you like to do, Xan?” “Um, when I was… um, I played basketball for my high school,” he admitted, studying his hands. “That’s cool. Were y’all good at it?” “Yeah. I got to hold a trophy because the team called me the ‘star player’ of the whole season,” He snapped four times with each hand and Nova looked at Diana. “He’s got OCD,” “Oh,” Nova was learning that there was a lot wrong with her cousin, and there was probably more. “Anything else I should know about?” “Um, clinical depression, OCD, ADHD, Cotard’s, abandonment issues, um, and he gets weird sudden migraines. The depression and migraines are said to have played a part in developing the Cotard’s,” Jerik explained. “Along with the trauma of his mother being mvrdered, and him being sh0t in a fatal place as well,” “Woah,” Nova grabbed a hairtie and stuck it in her mouth as she gathered her hair, trying it up so she could think. “Wait,” Abby grabbed Diana’s wrist. “We’re about to witness greatness. She only ties her hair up when she’s thinking,” Diana smiled as Nova glared at her self-appointed best friend. But Nova was thinking. She really wanted to help her cousin get better, but she didn’t know if she could. She sat in her chair and opened her laptop, pulling up the browser and typing in the search box ‘ways to cure cotards syndrome’ and hit enter. After reading through a few results, Nova smiled. She knew how to cure her cousin.
