Life is Strange, page 22
Her hand comes up, tucks her hair behind her ear and shakes her head.
“I,” she says, staring at the ground. I know how important those words are to her. I take her hands in mine, lean in, and hope my face shows just how much I feel this.
“I love you, Steph Gingrich.”
She smiles, her eyes glassy, and something in my chest swells, and I feel like I could fly.
She reaches out, cups my face, and pulls me in for a kiss. I drink in the warmth of her, wanting her to know just how much I care about her, how much I want to make her smile.
“I love you too,” she says once the kiss is broken. She presses her forehead against mine and shakes her head. “Best friend.”
“Stop,” I laugh.
“More than friends then?” she asks. But she says it like a statement. I grin, basking in how right this feels.
“More than friends.”
She’s warm against me, and I don’t want this moment to end, but Jonah clears his throat.
“You mentioned a… Harson?”
“Yeah,” replies Steph, pulling away to look up at him. “Bigshot producer who was going to be at the show tonight. We were supposed to play for him, but… no instruments? No car? No way to rewind time?”
“Isaac Harson?” asks Jonah, stepping forward. “I went to grad school with him. We go way back.”
“What?!” come Steph and I’s voices together.
He pulls out his phone.
“I’ll give him a ring. See if he’s free to talk.”
He raises the phone to click through it, and I cannot believe this. All this time, Jonah and Harson have known each other?! What are the chances??
“Oh,” he says. “Oh shit.”
Clover’s eyebrows knit together in concern.
“It’s nothing,” assures Jonah, looking at Steph and me sheepishly. “It’s just… he called me eight times already.”
He clears his throat and raises the phone to his ear, but he quickly yanks it away.
“Jonah Elias Macon, what the absolute fuck!!!!!”
My eyes fly open, and Steph and I exchange a glance full of stifled giggles.
“Hey, Isaac,” drones Jonah. “Listen—”
“No, you listen!” hollers Isaac. Jonah rolls his eyes and clicks the speaker button, projecting Isaac’s loud-ass voice through this tiny hospital room, because might as well. “I been tryin’ to call your ass for the past twelve hours after I heard your ass was standin’ on top of the Barbazal dam, what the hell were you thinking, coulda got yerself kilt, I never heard such a crazy-ass idea, what the hell were you doin’—”
“Mental breakdown, Isaac,” cuts in Jonah. To my surprise, silence comes through the phone.
“You alright now?” asks Isaac, his voice instantly even and full of concern. He sounds like a totally different person with the single revelation that his friend needs help.
Jonah nods, then seemingly realizes that Isaac can’t hear him through the phone.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay now, but, um… weren’t you supposed to be at a show tonight?”
“How’d you—Oh the Fireworks concert?” he asks. “I couldn’t make it knowing some crazy shit was going on with you and Barbazal and that dam… Jonah, what the hell were you thinking? Your daddy coulda had a heart attack out there worrying about you—”
“I know,” Jonah says. “I apologized to him already.”
“You… wait, you did?” asks Isaac.
“Yes. I’ll explain later. Promise. But I heard two musicians were supposed to be joining you tonight?”
All I can hear in the silence in this room is the sound of my own heart thundering in my chest.
Harson sighs.
I look at Steph. Steph looks at me.
“Yes,” admits Harson. “I saw a video of them playing at a festival over in Haven Springs and I knew I had to hear ’em in person. Tried gettin’ ahold of ’em, but they went dark. When they didn’t show for sound check, I figured they no-showed.”
“Well,” Jonah smiles, glancing up at me, “I have good news. They didn’t no-show. They were late. Because they were busy saving my life.”
“What?” asks Harson.
“You heard me,” smiles Jonah. “Alex talked me down from that dam. Well,” he corrects himself, “she played me down, really, ’longside Daddy’s harmonica. She’s… she and Steph are the reason we’re speakin’ again.”
Harson’s voice is low and awed. “Well, I’ll be damned. Where are they now? So I can personally thank them?”
Jonah lowers the phone to his chest and raises his eyebrows at me to ask if I want to talk to him, and Steph and I can’t nod fast enough.
The phone is unsteady in my trembling hands.
“Hello?”
“Alex? Or Steph?”
“It’s Alex,” I say, my voice all over the place. “Alex Chen, Mr. Harson, sir.”
“You can call me Isaac. What kinda man would I be if I didn’t grant you first-name basis after you saved my good friend’s life?”
“Thank you,” I offer, unsure of what the hell else to say. “And I’m sorry we missed the Lamplighter Festival.”
“Miss, you coulda missed my wedding day and I’d be glad you did if it meant saving Jonah Macon’s life. You and your friend are goddamn heroes in my book.”
At the mention of that word again—friend—I glance up at Steph before clearing my throat and correcting what I didn’t correct earlier.
“Girlfriend,” I say.
“Oh!” he exclaims. “Girlfriend! Two heroes together. Love to see it.”
I look up at Steph, who’s smiling the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. It almost makes up for how she looked at me yesterday.
“Thanks, sir,” I smile.
“So, Alex, would you and your girlfriend like to get coffee this week in Barbazal? I’ll be in town in a few days and we can talk about your career in music, and maybe even get you some new instruments.”
I look to Steph for approval—how could we say no to this? A chance to meet Harson in person? About our music careers? And maybe even new instruments? But Steph’s face tells a different story. Her smile has fallen just a little, and her eyes wander down to the phone to avoid mine.
And then it sinks in—what’s really wrong here.
“Sir?” I ask. “That’s a super kind offer, but we’ve gotta get back on the road. I’ve kept Steph in Barbazal long enough.”
After a long pause, and a shallow sigh from Harson, I hear the best thing I could’ve hoped to hear in a million years.
“How ’bout we rent us a tour bus and y’all can show me your talents on the road?”
I gasp, giving away how fucking perfect I think that would be, but if that didn’t lay all our cards on the table, Steph’s squeal definitely does.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” he says, chuckling through the phone.
Steph reaches forward, wiggling her fingers to ask for the phone. I offer it willingly, and she grips it like her life depends on it.
“Just say you can accommodate a recovering gunshot wound victim on the road, and you’ve got yourself a deal, sir.”
“A gunshot wound?!”
“It’s a long story,” comes my voice, Steph’s, Jonah’s, and even Clover’s.
We all exchange glances, and I smile at Steph and mouth the words, thank you.
19: The Road
Turns out the bullet went straight through my calf muscle and out the other side, not even making it to the bone, so my recovery is supposed to be quick. Relatively. As quick as a gunshot wound can be, I guess. That first one in Haven Springs was a graze, so it took days.
This makes the second time inside of six months getting shot in Colorado, after living in Portland for twenty-one years. My trust issues are going to have trust issues, but at least the recovery is shorter than I thought it’d be.
I’ll be on these crutches for four to six weeks, I’m told.
Good thing I can play the guitar sitting down.
I ease into the plush chair in the far corner of the bus and lean my head back.
“Water,” commands Steph, thrusting a bottle at me. I roll my eyes and take it.
“Jesus Christ, Steph, I just drank a whole one.”
“I’ll keep refilling it until you hit your daily one hundred twenty-seven ounces. I’m keeping count, since I know you’ll round down.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say with an eye roll.
“How are you planning on healing those muscles if you aren’t lubricated?”
“Um, ew.” I wince, re-capping the bottle. “There has to be a better way to say that.”
“It’s the body! It’s not gross.”
“The body is hella gross,” I argue.
Steph smirks and folds her arms across her chest in defiance, saying try me with her eyebrows. I breathe out, and snort in, pretending to hock up a fat loogie.
“Okay, okay, shit,” says Steph, holding out her hands for me to stop. “Gross or not, your body has some repairs to do. So get to it.”
She gives me a wink and turns to look at the rest of this place.
“Can you believe this is our new hotel on wheels for a while?” she asks.
“Not much more than I can believe you’re my girlfriend.”
Her cheeks bloom with red, and a gold aura flares above her head.
“I can’t believe it either,” she says, turning and picking up her drumsticks from the nearby window sill. “And I can’t believe these babies are mine. Or that that baby’s yours.”
She turns and nods to my guitar beside me, leaning against the wall.
My heart skips.
“Steph, how did you—”
“I’ve got connections,” she shrugs.
“What kind of connections?”
“Okay, fine, looking cool and aloof was fun while it lasted,” she concedes. “It was a little banged up at the dam site, but Harson knows some repair guys out here who fixed it up for you. My idea.”
I look down, pick it up, feeling its familiar weight in my hands.
“Good as new,” I marvel, feeling tears spring to my eyes.
I take the strings in my fingers and begin to pluck, shutting my eyes and letting the hum of the notes seep into my skin, my bones, the whole instrument fresh under my fingers now that the head’s been repaired, the strings replaced. I sink into the moment, playing away, letting the notes carry me off into a reprise of the peaches song.
I’m going to Fort Collins.
With the love of my life.
And a flashy new-ish guitar.
And Isaac Harson’s eyes on my talents.
So… what’s missing?
I let out a sigh, and I hear Steph’s voice in the darkness.
“Oh, that reminds me,” she says. “I… kinda got you something.”
“Kinda?” I ask, opening my eyes to find Steph standing and rummaging through her backpack.
“Harson helped,” she says, pulling out something that fits in the palm of her hand and turning back to me. “Close your eyes.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Just do it, okay?” she says and laughs. “Promise, it’ll be worth it.”
I do as I’m asked and hold out my hands. She places what feels like a deck of cards in my palm, and I feel their edges, all different sizes and shapes.
“Steph, what—”
“Okay, open ’em.”
I look down to find… stickers?
The top one is…
“Peaches?” The logo of The Weirdest Gears is intertwined with a peach sliced in half, like a clockwork peach. It even has the little “1985” guitar logo at the bottom. I haven’t seen this logo since…
“Steph,” I say, my cheeks flushing hot, “did you save this from my guitar case?”
“I wish,” she says, folding her arms. “That guitar case was totally gone. But some guy in Atlanta, Georgia, happened to be selling a Weirdest Gears sticker from their concert in 1985, so I had it overnighted.”
My eyes well up, and I’m instantly back in my room, listening to “Peaches,” drowning in the music while my family drowned in their own rage next door.
“Thank you, Steph,” I say.
And then I remember there’s more. I look through the stack. Every. Single. Sticker. Is there.
The Toils.
Gastrowhale.
Wooden Arthropods.
Questions and Her.
“Steph, how did you find all of these?” I ask, in total awe.
“Harson helped,” she says, shrugging.
“But… you had to remember my case. You had to remember every single sticker on there! How did you…?”
“I kinda like you,” she says and shrugs again.
I push myself to my feet, despite her protests, and throw my arms around her.
“Thank you,” I croak.
She embraces me back, and then she pulls away, takes my face in hers, and leans in.
The kiss lingers, and I never want this moment to end. I want to stand here forever with her, right here in the middle of this tour bus, just outside Barbazal. I squeeze her tight, basking in the feeling of her lips against mine, and I wonder where this might lead until—
“Ahem,” comes a voice from the door.
Steph and I both jump and look over to see Clover leaning against the door frame.
“Don’t mean to interrupt,” she says, smirking with a raised eyebrow. “Just wanted to say goodbye before y’all set off into the sunset. And also apologize for… you know… misjudging you at first.”
Steph and I exchange a grin, mutually agreeing here.
“I’d say helping us escape a massive flooding incident makes up for it,” says Steph. “Maybe just don’t do it again.”
“Deal,” says Clover.
“So,” continues Steph, “what’s your plan, Clover?”
“Not sure yet,” she sighs. “Jonah and I are stickin’ together. For now. ’Til he gets some help. We’ll probably settle down in Denver for a while. Maybe I’ll see y’all around. If… you know… if you wanna, like… hang out?”
“Sounds like a plan,” says Steph.
Relief washes over Clover’s face at that. She looks at me.
“You’ve been out for a while. Did you hear Maisie won the election?”
I shouldn’t be this disappointed. If you’re going to destroy public property with a sledgehammer while trying to win an election, I figure you know what you’re throwing away.
“No, I didn’t,” I say, truthfully. I haven’t had time to think about it. Clover shrugs, and then a laugh escapes her.
“Guess Crazy Maisie didn’t end up being the crazy one after all,” she continues, her smile fading to make way for a blank stare, lost deep in thought. “For the best, I guess. Jonah… he needs help.”
Silence hangs in the room, because what do Steph and I say to that? She’s absolutely right that Jonah needs help, but it’s definitely not for the best.
I don’t want to think about all the legislation that might pass, thanks to her. All the bad healthcare, all the lack of healthcare, the straight-up attacks on women’s rights. Has it all been worth it to save Barbazal? I guess that’s a battle we can keep fighting. I would do it all again.
Maisie is tomorrow’s battle.
“So…” she continues, before she can reveal too much emotion, “Y’all heading straight to Fort Collins, or are you going to stop anywhere on the way?”
“Is there… stuff to do on the way?” I ask. I honestly have no idea what’s out there, but I don’t particularly care. I squeeze Steph’s hand.
“Sure,” shrugs Clover. “Millersborough’s about an hour north of here.”
“You know,” I say, turning to Steph again, “Millersborough would be a great town name for a LARP.”
I look up at Steph, and her smile curves to match the smile in her eyes.
“What’s a LARP?” asks Clover.
Steph grins at me before turning to Clover.
“Keep hanging with us, and you’ll find out!”
“I would, but I’ve got…” she reaches up to rest a hand over her belly, “preoccupations.”
Yeah, she’s right. I smile. Steph nods. Clover turns to leave. Once she’s shut the door behind her, Steph and I both breathe a sigh.
“Looks like it’s just us,” Steph says, nudging me. “Again.”
I reach over, take her hand in mine, and draw her to me. I look into her eyes, deeply, gazing at who she really is.
“I love you, Steph Gingrich,” I say.
She leans in and kisses me.
When she pulls away, she presses her forehead to mine.
“I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Road-trip pals for life?” I ask.
She nods.
“And all their associated benefits.”
Acknowledgments
Before I got my start in game development, I dreamed of telling a Life is Strange story.
It was a pipedream to return to the world of Max, Chloe, Sean, Daniel, Alex, Steph, and Ryan, not as a player, but as a writer. And with Heatwaves, I got to do that! So first and foremost, thank you to Life is Strange fans everywhere for making this fan community as colorful and passionate as you have. Thank you for your choices, your theories, and your hottest takes. I hope I’ve done right by you with this next installment of the Alex and Steph saga.
Thank you Quressa and The Folio team for putting this book in great hands, and for cheering me on from page one.
To the lovely folks at Titan Books—especially my editors Daquan Cadogan, Michael Beale, and George Sandison—thank you for helping to shape this book into something beautiful. And to Andrew James and the wonderful folks at Square Enix who generously left Alex and Steph’s story in my hands for awhile, thank you for your trust and your faith.
Thank you to my closest friends —Laurie Halse Anderson, Ari Bloom, Becca Boddy, Roseanne Brown, Sydney Clark, Damian DiFrancesco, Alexandra Keister, Jackie Mak, Christopher Mikkelson, Anastasia Nuñez, Aaron Oaks, Luka Quay, Eric Smith, James Stoner, Grayson Toliver, and Molly Vaughn. I love you all to bits.
Thank you to my son, my adventurer, who keeps showing me new ways to look at things. I hope to create worlds you’ll enjoy playing in one day. That includes the real one.
