Date: Thu, 4 Oct 2007 15:18:05 -0700 (PDT) From: Matt Wess Subject: Double E: Part Fifteen Double E: Part Fifteen I cut a cross Eliot. "Live and learn, right? No apology needed." He shook his head. "It's not quite like that - can we..." he gestured for me to sit down in his room. Feeling completely exhausted from the night's activities, I half shrugged and followed him into his room, sitting at the edge of the bed. "You're not going to punch me, are you?" I yawned, remembering our last few encounters and each time I escape with some kind of black and blue mark. He quietly shut the door. "Not quite. Listen, Elijah, I've been such a jerk..." "I know..." "I've been naive..." "I know..." "Stupid..." "I know..." "And sex crazed..." "I know..." He sat down next to me, for the first time ever I actually saw kindness or something border lining it swirling through his eyes. It was scarier than having him sit on me again and punching me, which I could of wish he would do right now. His uncanny disposition was beginning to feel awkward. Eliot, once again, shook his head. "No, I don't think you do know. See, I used to think that everything I do, everything I say had finality to it - that's where I get the big head from, I suppose," he managed a small smile. "Well, when I was accused of murder it scared the hell out of me. Nothing I said or did no longer had that finality. I understand now that you were trying to help." I began to rise to my feet. "Like I said, no apology needed, but it is accepted." He grabbed my wrist. "I know both stories, Elijah. The double stories: my indictment and my sexuality." If possible, the room jumped to a comfortable temperature to scolding hot. Eliot's fingers laced around my wrist seemed to burn my skin, I pulled away lightly. "It - it was just out of curiosity, really. I should be getting to bed..." I stumbled slightly forward. Eliot took me in his arms and kissed me. Holding me tight, he kissed me passionately, so that I felt the hardness of his body and the roughness of his cheek printed upon mine. I fell back, with tremendous beats of the heart, each of which sent black waves across my eyes. "I don't usually go for that stuff, you know that," Eliot said. The tone of his voice was shaky. "But I figured after all you did for me..." "I- I figured it out for myself that you don't usually do - what you just did. You wouldn't have been framed for murder if you weren't attracted to Ms. Fisher." I cleared my throat, hoping that Eliot would not notice the tent forming in my pants. "So you still have a year left in this hell hole," I commented. "That's true," he nodded solemnly. "I bet you tomorrow mom will find something to yell at me about, despite the fact that I just was wrongly accused of murder. Makes no difference to her, really." I smiled. He smiled. I made my way to the door. He called out to my back, "Double E was the name of your story, right?" I craned my neck around, nodded once, "Double E." The next day at school Carrie came racing to find me. She was running down the hallway, brandishing a newspaper. "Did you see this - you're somewhat famous!" "Somewhat?" J.J. cocked an eyebrow. "He should be a lot more famous." I took the paper from Carrie. I didn't receive a hero parade or anything of the sort, I didn't really expect to. At the most I received badgering reporters that follow me around asking in depth questions about the case how I knew who did it. In addition, I was now being referred to as the "amateur sleuth." And finally - I earned my kiss from Eliot. That was worth going through hell for, I suppose. While he never kissed me again, I did notice that he lingered around in his underwear more often, perhaps for me to get a better view. And believe me - I get all the view I need. "The amateur sleuth," Carrie said proudly, taking the paper back from me. "How about that! You should be proud!" We began walking through the congested halls. "Oh - I am, but I'm still confused about a few things. What was the evidence you had against Detective Booker and Ms. Fisher and why was Georgina marked for death?" Carrie took a breath and plunged along, answering my questions. "Georgina was marked for death out of jealousy. She was secretly seeing Booker, but never made it public or an official relationship. So when she went out on a date with Eliot - that stirred the raging fire. "The evidence we had against Ms. Fisher - a strand of her blonde hair was left at Georgina Clove's parent's murder scene. As for Detective Booker - he was a horny bastard. Found his semen on Mrs. Clove. Seemed he had a little bit of fun with her after he killed her." J.J. cringed violently. "That's grosser than that gray hair I found in my pudding!" Carrie squeezed my hand passionately and laughed. The next several months passed away, as many years can pass away, without definite events, and yet, if suddenly disturbed, it would be seen that such months or years had a character unlike others. The several months which had passed had brought us to May. The climate had kept its promise, and the change of season from winter to spring was noticeable. The day of Eliot's and Carrie's prom was quite warm, with gentle blue skies and no hint of a rain cloud in the sky - knock on wood. I was Carrie's date for the evening - and quite proud of it. Eliot was taking some random girl that his looks picked up. The fact that he was once accused of murder made him somehow more attractive, manlier. One of those stories you sit around at a bar and tell to impress the women. Eliot did something of the sort. Carrie was dressed dazzlingly in a royal blue prom dress with a sexy V-neck halter embellished with beadwork. The dress on a whole accentuated her curves and complimented her red hair that was pulled back like a piece of art, swirling this way and that. It felt ages ago that I just saw her roll on a ground with a gun in her hand. Her in-depth story was a major hit and attracted lets of attention, selling rapidly around Jamestown. Her future as a reporter was already laid out in front of her thanks to Double E. She slipped her hand in mine. "How cool do I look showing up with the amateur sleuth," she whispered, stepping lightly into a limo of our own. Nobody else was sharing it with us - we did it on purpose. We were a big couple now - in a small town. The night I don't think could have gone any better. The last song of the night was the Righteous Brothers Unchained Melody, which took both Carrie and I back to the horrid night we brought to justice two ruthless killers. "Seems like only yesterday," Carrie said softly, nestling her head on my shoulder, "That you came into my office at school saying that you needed help." "And you sent me to see Rocky Katz..." I said darkly. Carrie laughed. "Have I apologized for that yet? You know he was finally arrested, right?" "Good - I hope he finds Detective Booker in there and chooses him as his girlfriend." As we swayed in a circle, I noticed Eliot passing on the dance floor with his date. He gave me a wink, and I winked back. The after party was a boisterous gang of Eliot's friends mixed with my friends and finally Genevieve's friends and held at our house. My mother frowned upon that many people occupying our downstairs and being so loud, but my grandmother loved it. She was constantly coming in and out of the room carrying various trays of snacks, Ruby trailing behind her. I found it almost impossible that the cat was still alive, but maybe she was younger than anyone of us (except for my grandmother) remembered. Around four in the morning the majority of the people had fallen asleep, strewn all over the floor in blankets and sleeping bags. I was curled up on the couch with Carrie, who was sound asleep. On the opposite couch Eliot lay with his girl, who was also asleep, but Eliot was still wide awake and smiling in my general direction. Suddenly the phone begins to ring. Tired and a little bit annoyed, I crawled over Carrie, aware of Eliot's eyes following me, and snatched the phone off of the wobbly table. "Hello," I grumbled. "There's been a murder," the caller informed me at once. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "W-why are you calling me?" I yawned. "Because you're Elijah Temime, the amateur sleuth, and I'm the murderer." THE END