Alone in the driver’s seat, the cold air pressed down around Neve in that particular way only silent night air could, tranquil and yet still bursting with possibilities. It was hard to explain, but air in darkness had a weight like no other; oppressing, condescending— and urging.
She sucked in a deep breath with considerable effort and flicked on the dome light, too restless for a blanket of darkness.
That’s when Ophelia, in all her breathtaking glory, slides into the passenger seat: clad in a white sundress, golden waves of hair cascading down her back and curling delicately around her face. An angel reincarnated, sitting in the company of common men yet unable to hide amid them.
“You look beautiful,” Neve said, with all the sincerity she could muster. Even if it was rather an understatement.
Ophelia flashed her a smile, and it was almost as if the sun itself had leapt back up the horizon, radiating liquid gold that spilled over the immense darkness of midnight. Who needs daylight, when Ophelia is sitting in the passenger seat? Who needs sunshine when she was their own little solar power, glowing in the shotgun?
The air in the car grew heavier. More insistent. Neve wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but the air felt almost solid right then and there, in the way that it clung to her fingertips: coaxing, persuading, inducing.
She curled her hands into fists and smiled back at Ophelia. “Where to, princess?”
Ophelia shrugged, crossing one elegant ankle over the other, clicking her seatbelt into place. “I haven’t decided. You got a plan?”
“Anywhere with you would be my utmost honour.”
A faint smile was rising on her lips. “Someone’s feeling poetic tonight.”
“All the world’s poetry would not be enough to—”
“Okay, okay, cut it out.” She said, exasperated, yet fully smiling now. “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” Neve said, a bit untruthfully.
Ophelia raised her eyebrows, but let it go. “Your hair looks different. Did you get a haircut?”
Neve lifted a hand to run her fingers through her cropped, dark hair, made entirely out of jagged edges and uneven locks. “Yeah. It started getting in my face, so I got mum to trim it.”
“I like it,” Ophelia said, and Neve felt a pleased shiver go up her spine. “Makes you look very rugged. Intimidating.”
“You like when I’m intimidating?” Neve laughed.
“I like when you’re not boring,” Ophelia said, archly. “Come on, make up your mind and let’s go.”
Neve stuck out her tongue but did what she said, clicking her car keys into the ignition, coaxing the engine awake with a rumble, bringing the car on a smooth cruise down the driveway and onto the main street.
They fall into easy silence as the crumbling of loose asphalt and gravel is gradually replaced by the gentle purr of the engine and the whistling of wind streaking past their windows. Outside, the buildings are quiet and still, and the few windows still lit with light fly by in a blur of motion, their colours trickling into the blackness of the night and into one another.
After a while, Ophelia reached up to flick off the dome light and left them in almost complete darkness, only broken by the occasional streetlight casting irregular yellow rectangles across their seats and laps.
Never has Neve felt so calm yet so agitated.
She leaned heavier on the accelerator, morphing the trickling of colours beyond their windows into one ink-washed canvas, racing with the ghostly shapes of other cars as she sped along the highway.
Ophelia leaned an elbow against the car door carelessly. A goddess amused by Neve’s all-too-human antics. “You’re past the speed limit, Neve.”
Neve shrugged and went faster. Ophelia laughed.
I like when you’re not boring.
Slightly distracted, Neve nearly missed their exit— but she didn’t. And as they took a few winding turns down into a familiar street, Ophelia hummed with recognition. “It’s a bit late for ice cream, don’t you think?”
“Sounds like quitter talk to me.” Neve quipped.
Ophelia’s pretty eyes glowed in mirth. “Oh, you’re on.”
They end up racing to the store, Neve covering ground easily with her cargo pants and wide strides, Ophelia surprisingly agile in her white slip of a sundress; though both of them would’ve been faster if they weren’t laughing all the way, leaving them both windblown and gasping for breath when they finally reached the glass doors.
Behind the counter, a person looked up. They took one look at Neve and Ophelia and went back to cleaning.
This cashier has seen a lot of people at one in the morning: stiff-suited businessmen who refused to make eye contact while they ordered, tired-eyed students with laptops under their arms and hell in their eyes, crying teenagers as they slumped by the window and gulped down their gooey caramel chocolate concoction—
It’s going to take a lot more than what appeared to be two best friends, both giggling and out of breath at one in the morning, to catch this cashier off guard.
Ophelia went first, picking pistachio in a chocolate-dipped cone with extra pistachios, please and thank you. Neve shrugged when it came to her turn. “I’ll take the same, thanks.”
“Wait,” Ophelia whispered, conspiratorially, pulling her aside with an apologetic smile at the cashier, who sighed and waited (hey, they got themselves into this when they picked the night shift). “If you get a different flavour, we can try both, and it’ll be like eating two ice creams even if you only have the stomach for one.” She raised her eyebrows. “So… pick another flavour?”
Neve laid her head gently against Ophelia’s hair. “You pick another one, then. I don’t care as long as you like it.”
“Wonderful. Lemon and lime with the whipped cream on top, please. And could we get a few napkins to go with that?”
They strolled back to the car slowly, stopping every few seconds to admire such beautiful desserts. It was definitely way too cold for ice cream, but Neve didn’t mind. It was difficult to feel cold when she was walking right next to the sun herself, radiating warmth with her delight every time she found a pistachio among all the ice cream.
Their free arms swung side-by-side, and Neve felt air settle onto her fingers, grasping and pulling, until she found herself reaching for a hand. She caught herself with a sharp intake of breath and curled her fingers into a fist.
“Is everything okay?” Ophelia asked, concerned, and as beautiful as ever. A ray of heavenly light scattering among mortal grounds.
Neve took a deep breath with effort. She felt the heavy air slide around their hands, gathering in the sliver of space between their fingers, barely half an inch away. So close. So, so close. She could reach out. She could lace her fingers through Ophelia’s slim ones. Maybe she could even swing their joint hands together back and forth like they do in the movies.
Neve shoved her hand into her pocket. Smiled wistfully. “Everything’s just fine, princess.”
Writer – Amy Zuo
Editor – Aaron Huang
Artist – Cindy Zhang
–August 2024–
