#i have one more day left in this quarter and the gas tank is empty

[theriverbeyond]

im reading the hunger games prequel (president snow backstory) rn and despite hearing a lot of disappointment about the premise before it came out, it is genuinely a really interesting & compelling story. protagonist-status isn't directly related to character morality idk

[samcat71470558]

K, but consider this.

Goose Echo had a friend. Like, a brother friend. That died in an accident. Delta. Like. When Goose died in Top Gun but it's Mav instead.

969 words <3

tw/death, drowning (not really descriptive), grief(..? Kinda..?)

I swear these guys are such blanc slates according to the wiki yk I had to give 'em some trauma 😔/j

-------

Echo hated the empty feeling in his tanks when he was alone. Bravo was out, doing god knows what, Delta (Mav) has other things on his head, and he's stuck on board the ship. His engines ached for a little action. Suddenly a bang sounds through the hall, followed by a scream. Delta!

"...Delta?!"

Echo's engines flared up with fear. Delta never, never screams like that, unless he's in real trouble.

"Delta!"

He rolls forwards, cautious for any debris or gas or whatever could cause his best friend to scream. Glass cracks under his lading gear. "...N-no..." His movements get more frantic, every corner he passes feeling like a clump of ice drops in his tanks. It's quiet...

He rounds another corner, and...

"BOO!" Delta jumps out, wings folded with his wingflaps up. He's grinning like an idiot, his red-blue helmet shining in the dim light. "HAH! Oh man, Echo... You should've seen the look on your fa-ha-haace... Wooooh..." He snickers, putting his wings and flaps back down when he sees the annoyance in Echo's face. "Sorry, sorry... I just... y'know, I had to. But you gotta admit, that was good, huh?" Echo groans, angrily swatting Delta with his wing. "...Bastard... I thought you were in real trouble."

He sighs, and gives Delta the Disappointed Dad™ stare. Not that he's his dad, he just likes doing it.

"I'll be on deck if you need me, scrubbing window-washer fluid out of my eyes."

Delta just snickers, and starts cleaning again.

«»

"Okay, so lemme get this straight. You two figures are going to do what?!" Bravo never heard so much bullshit in one sentence. First, Echo and Delta were gonna do the most dangerous stunt he'd ever heard of. And they were gonna do it in opposite directions, at the same time. This could only end in chaos.

Echo snorts, flapping his flaps up.

"Come on, you gotta stop being so ice cold to these ideas, man! Come on, join in! Delta knows what he's doin'."

Delta, who's standing a little away, does in fact not know what he's doing. "Come on Echo! Let him sulk, we're gonna have some real fun!"

And Echo believed him.

«»

It went so well, and then...

"DELTA!" Jet wash, the most dangerous thing in aviation. When Echo and Delta passed each other at the top of their loops, Delta flew straight through Echo's. His engines splutter, his eyes wide as he loses altitude. "ECHO!" He tries everything to get out, to just climb, gain altitude, gain his engines back... There's tears dripping down the sides of his face (not from fear, but from the fact that he's plummeting to the ground at mach 11045 or something), teeth gritted in concentration. Bravo tries snatching him out of the sky, but in the process he almost takes himself down too. At the last moment he has to disengage, letting Delta splash into the icy ocean below. For a second they see his terrified face below the surface, before he sinks into the deep, dark blue. And Echo can't stop the soft whine his engine makes.

«»

The funeral is short, but even that's too much for Echo. He blames himself. It was his jet wash, after all. That must make him guilty, right?

He got send to the mainland for a few days, getting a court reading where they explain neatly how this wasn't his fault, since a jet wash is invisible, and he didn't intent to down Delta, and blah, blah... Echo'd stopped listening after they said he wasn't guilty.

But still, he felt incredibly, incredibly guilty.

"...I should've gone down, not him..."

He barely left his room for a week after coming back to the carrier, his head hurting from the many sleepless nights he'd spent in his quarters.

"...It's just... not fair, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, buddy."

Only Bravo could coax him out of his room sometimes, getting him some fuel and talking for a bit. But he knew it too; the old Echo was gone. Replaced with a shivering wreck of a plane that was almost too scared to even fly...

Until that faithful day when he did. Bravo finally managed to convince Echo to go out flying with him, promising to not even go near his rear to avoid the jet wash. It was stupid, but anything to get his best friend back was worth a shot.

They loaded onto the catapults, and took off. The second Echo got airborne he sunk down, landing gear out as if trying to land on the water. His eyes lock onto the ocean, seeing the face of Delta sinking down slowly into the blue...

"...B-Bravo..? I... I'm gonna go back..." Bravo whirled around, spotting his friend slowly moving back to the carrier. "No. Echo..." He quickly caught up, giving Echo his recreation of the other jet's famous Disappointed Dad™. "Come on, one lap. You agreed to one lap around the perimeter. It's just 83 kilometres..." Echo sighed, regret and desire swirling in his tanks until he got nauseous. He did agree to one lap...

He sighed, then pulled up. "Fine. One lap."

«»

Once Echo got up to speed, the doubt slowly started to melt away like snow in the sun. Hell, he even found a smile tugging his mouth as he sped up more and more, overtaking Bravo at Mach 1. In less than four minutes he'd cleared the lap, engines roaring for the second. "Keep up, slow coach!" Bravo growled, engines flaring up as he caught up to Echo again. "There he is! There's my stupid idiot Echo!"

«»

After the race, the ice clump in Echo's tanks melted slightly. He still felt chilly and alone, but knowing Bravo had his tail fins really made everything a lot better for him.

[toalliveloved]

8/10/24

Money. This foolish concept.

It determines what you eat, or lackthereof. I reached for the flour tucked in the cupboard. I’m glad I never make eggs in the morning, I seem to buy them and romanticize the idea but they’ve now been my savior. I added too much water to the eggs and flour. I hopelessly mixed the unmeasured ingredients in a Tupperware, hoping for the best. I center poured them like pancakes on a skillet. I shuffled around the spice cabinet to find cinnamon and 1 Splenda I could mix with water as dip. This is all that I will eat in a day. Trying not to let an oyster platter on Instagram throw me off the edge.

I was supposed to be in residential treatment at this time. My insurance policy wouldn’t cover it. I needed a 3,500 deductible, which isn’t even two months of full-time work for me. After I filed for FMLA from my main job, I was informed I haven’t accrued enough money to use PTO. I have nothing but $30 and a month off. My rent payment is gaining on me. Miraculously, I have a temp job floating around luxury hotels and condominiums as a front desk agent. I watch people in fancy jewelry snark at my rough edges. I’ve never tasted caviar, but I’m sure they abandoned their leftovers at some five star next to a pathetic tip.

I’m mostly concerned because I’ve read only two chapters of a library book, and touched my DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) workbook maybe twice. I’ve done nothing but sit in my room, inhaling the comfort of weed and exhaling this insatiable discontent. I have no money to fly home and embrace my family who I’m so far removed from. It’s been a sweaty marathon of work for maintenance. I have little time for therapy and spend too much time rationing old prescription drugs. I can’t even afford to be sick.

$30 will only fill up a quarter of my gas tank. I have $5 left on a McDonald’s gift card in case I have to consider shoplifting. I don’t qualify for food stamps because of the 1,100 dollars I make biweekly. My rent is one of those paychecks, my car note is $428, my insurance is inactive because I can’t afford it. I have gas, little groceries and miscellaneous fees to take care of with the remainder of my income. I know what you’re thinking. It’s a luxury to have a car, an expensive one at that. My 2017 Jeep Patriot is big enough to sleep in, parked neatly out front, just in case I have to live in it; again.

I was born economically six feet under, so I have to work twice as hard as the average citizen to live. Simultaneously, I must attend college, watching federal student aid take a sledgehammer to my credit report. I sought moving to another country to avoid this bloody hamster wheel. I’m a dreamer, an empty vessel washed on the shore of Miami Beach. I couldn’t move 2 feet without the current pulling me back out to sea. Moving to Spain would band-aid a hemorrhage, my fake husband and I were living in the clouds. Our dreams quickly turned into nightmares, lawyers fees, and stagnancy which are all one and the same. I thought of going back home to Boston, remembering this same feeling, just frostbitten.

I was conditioned to this lifestyle. I’ve only ever been a minority in big cities. I’ve had glimpses and appetizers of what money could buy me. I feel I deserve more than what my circumstances are. I try to ignore the way kids in alternative countries have no shoes, but they never knew any better. I only engage in the thought of their happiness, having a sense of community and always having a hot plate, even if it’s from the neighbors. You could be homeless here, a product of the streets and even I wouldn’t blink an eye. The idea that my few cents would buy drugs angered me. Hidden behind windows and my steering wheel, I knew that even I couldn’t afford to give up a few cents.

Among the hardships of what this life provides, money has value in the way you handle this life. How I long for a residential facility in Wyoming to gather my thoughts and rebuild myself. How I wish food wasn’t a privilege. Money to build a wall but no money to cover tuition. I didn’t need luxury, I needed a sense of belonging and basic necessities. I didn’t want to decipher what I did and did not need from Dollar Tree. Money is enough to break us down to our knees. Imagine, a deficit in every other department of life.

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Twelve

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"Don't take another step."

Someone nudging my shoulder wakes me from my sleep. I lazily blink my eyes open and see Joel staring down at me with his chocolate brown eyes. He probably either found something, or it's time to keep walking. Either way, my time on this mattress is coming to a sad close, and I wish I could stay here forever. My limbs stretch out before I get up, soaking in one last moment on the soft bed.

Joel moves out of my way as I get up and put my bag on my back. He picks his up as well and opens the camper door for me. The day is hot, the air is sticky with humidity.

"Follow me." He says and walks ahead of me, leading me further into the campground. Joel has some unusual pep in his step, and it's getting my hopes up that he found something good.

The rest of the campground is desolate, it's probably been abandoned for a decade now. It's almost like a time capsule, everything is exactly where it was left ten years ago. There are children's bicycles left, tents that have been blown over, and remnants of happy memories everywhere I look. Once upon a time, this place would have been a lovely destination for a weekend getaway.

The campers become less densely packed as he keeps walking deeper into the woods.

"I thought you said you weren't going far." I call him on his lie. His shoulders shrug in front of me.

"I guess it's all a matter of perspective." He refutes and I let out a short laugh.

"I'll have to keep that in mind." I say as we pass a rusted out truck.

We walk a few more paces until I see a blue pickup truck sitting out by itself. It looks a little out of place, like it should be back towards the front where most of the campers are. Joel comes to a stop in front of it and lightly smacks his hand on the hood. I'll admit, it's one of the nicest looking cars I've seen in a while. The rust is at a minimum, it still has all the doors and windows. In my eyes, this truck is on par with a Rolls Royce.

"Does it work?" I ask before my hopes get too high. This truck could need parts before it runs. And if that's the case, who knows how long we'll be here searching for them.

"It runs, we just need some gas." He says and I nod. I knew we couldn't get lucky enough to find a car without any sort of issue to deal with.

"Okay, then let's find some gas." I say, hopeful that in this campground there's fuel stored somewhere. Sure, it's frustrating that our trip is being delayed, but the thought of finally having a car offsets any negativity about searching for gas.

The two of us split up, each taking one side of the campground to make the most of our time. I start at the front and decide to make my way back towards the truck. I search through the unlocked campers and cars left to rot, finding nothing of real use in the front. In the back half of the campground I find a gas container with a quarter tank, it's better than nothing. Other than that, I don't find anything.

Joel and I reconvene at the truck after thoroughly searching. It seems his search was more fruitful, he's got two full containers in his hands.

"Where'd you find all that?" I'm not sure how he got so lucky. He just shrugs,

"Was just layin' around." He opens the gas cap of the truck and pours the gas into it. Hopefully this gets us a few hundred miles at least.

I watch as he tosses the empty gas can aside and climbs into the driver's seat. He rubs his hands together excitedly before turning the key in the ignition. The truck makes a few clicking sounds before it finally roars to life with a deep growl. It's music to my ears and I can't keep the wide smile off my face.

"I can't believe it." My voice is awestruck as I climb into the passenger side. The seats are faux leather and the air in here is quite stale and stuffy. Joel begins navigating back to the road as I roll the windows down and let my arm hang out the window.

He drives us out of the campground and we're back en route. The wind whips my hair around in the truck and my eyes close as I take in the feeling. It's been so long since I can remember enjoying driving with the windows down. We drive for miles as I soak in the almost forgotten feeling.

Opening my eyes, I look over to Joel, who has a small smirk on his face. His eyes glance from the road over to me before flicking back to the road. I roll the window halfway up, the air becoming a little much.

"Thought you fell asleep over there." He says. I shake my head and try to tame my hair from the wind.

"No, I slept pretty well. I think we can count that as a five star hotel." I flip down the mirror attached to the visor on the ceiling and use it to part my hair the correct way before glancing over to Joel. He just shakes his head with the same smirk on his face, and then we fall back into our usual silence.

Deciding I can use this time for something other than looking out of the window, I grab my bag and unzip it, grabbing the map. It's torn around the edges from wear, but is still intact enough that it won't disintegrate if it gets folded the wrong way. My eyes find the spot where we just passed through, marked with the star. The stars must mean other groups, so we'll want to avoid those in the future.

I look ahead in our route to see what we'll be coming up on. The next group we should be crossing paths with are the Fireflies. It'll be interesting to see what happens when we get to that point. I know both Joel and I dislike them, but they're also involved in the slaughter of children in QZs. For that reason alone I want to seek them out, just to see if there's any information we can get from them.

But then again, if Joel was there when Marlene died, other people might know about that and it might complicate things. I heavily sigh as I weigh the pros and cons of finding them.

Then again, Joel doesn't have to go with me to seek them out. He's more than welcome to keep going and if he wants, we can meet back up after I'm done. One way or another I know I need to find them, and I need to see for myself the extent of their involvement with the T group. In my mind, there's more to lose from not finding them and not getting every ounce of information that I possibly can. From my estimate, if we keep driving for the rest of the day, we should reach them by tomorrow afternoon. That's assuming we don't run into any obstacles.

I fold the map back up and put it inside my bag and my fingers find the two scraps of paper I found in the fire back near Boston. The word "immune" strikes me, and my thumb runs over the ink. What could this mean? What context was it written in? Does it even have anything to do with this?

Surely it has to, it was among other vital pieces of information like the note and the map. But why would they burn this letter and not the rest?

Joel glances over to see what I'm holding and his eyebrows draw tightly together. He reads the word on the scorched paper and his eyes trail up to meet mine. His jaw sets and he swallows hard. It reminds me of the night we spent in the little suburban home, how he went over all the evidence.

"What is it?" My mouth blurts out before I can stop myself. I have to know why he's acting this way about the evidence. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand grab the steering wheel more tightly and his knuckles turn white. But his face relaxes and he shakes his head,

"Nothin'." His subpar answer lingers in the air between us. I have a gut feeling he's not telling the entire truth, and it's really starting to get under my skin.

"It's not nothing. What do you know?" I ask him, my voice firm. My eyes scan over his face for any clues, but his demeanor is cool and collected, save for his death grip on the steering wheel.

"I don't know anything." His voice is deep and has a tone of finality, urging me not to continue on. I bite my tongue before I begin accusing him of things I'm not even sure of and look back out the window.

An anxious feeling creeps up my spine as I try to rationalize why he would want to keep information away from me. It's plain as day now that he definitely knows something, and it has to be centered around this one scribbled word. He reacted to it back in the suburbs, and he reacted to it again just now.

If he's willing to go out of his way to save me not once, but twice, and is sincere enough to keep his word about tagging along until Omaha, then what could possibly be so classified that he won't tell me? It just doesn't make sense. And in that moment, the man who once made me feel safe, makes me feel uneasy. Maybe I wrongfully placed my trust in him too soon.

Quietly, I place the scrap of paper back in my bag and zip it up. The bag now rests in my lap and I crane my neck even more so that I can't even see him out of my peripheral vision. My heart thumps in my chest and I try to calm myself. Wild thoughts run rampant in my mind with theories about what's going on, but not one theory is able to check every box of the situation.

As the day goes on, the trip continues to pass in silence. After hours of mulling over my theories, I still can't settle on anything that makes total sense. Everything about his behavior is paradoxical to me. Until I can figure it out, I think it's best if I keep my distance and and keep my mouth shut. He already knows a fair bit about me, but I know practically nothing about him. There's a power imbalance here and that adds to my uneasiness.

Our silence is now filled with tension once more, and my nervously tapping foot is the only thing that fills the quiet cab of the truck. The sun has set and the headlights of this truck are very dim. Truthfully, it's probably dangerous to be driving with such dim lights but I don't care. I just want this truck to get us as far as possible.

Unfortunately, he doesn't keep driving through the night. No, he finds a rest area off the highway and stops at it, pulling the truck over the curb and into the woods for cover. As soon as the truck is put into park I get out and sling my bag over one shoulder. My feet can't carry me fast enough as I make my way to one of the small buildings.

I duck behind one and revel in the feeling of being alone, being away from the suffocating silence and tension. My chest deflates with a sigh and I turn my attention towards the dark sky, dotted with bright stars. For a few moments my problems melt away, it's just me and the wide open sky. My fingers wrap around the gold chain around my neck as I gaze at the stars, hoping that somehow the right answer will come to me. Should I stay with Joel? Should I go on my own? I just don't know.

I don't have enough time to dwell on it as I hear Joel's footsteps crunching in the woods next to me. Fixing my posture, I bend over and make it look like I was tying the laces of my boot and not debating whether or not I should take off. As casually as I can, I look up through my eyelashes and see Joel coming out of the woods in front of me, logs tucked underneath one of his arms. He looks at me quizzically, and I think quick to excuse my hightailing.

"Sorry I um, I just had to go." I say, implying that I ran off for the bathroom. He nods his head once and then clears his throat.

"Was thinkin' we could build a fire out here." He gestures to the sidewalk that borders the woods. Like last night, there's a risk to it, but it's not a detrimental one, at least I don't think.

"Yeah, that's fine." I say and stand up from my kneeling position. He walks in front of me, his shoulders tight with tension and I'm not entirely sure it's from hauling firewood.

I stay a few feet back as Joel constructs the fire, much like he did last night. He does it with an expertise that shows how long he's been out here for. Leaning against a nearby tree I chew on my fingernails, my brain unable to let me be calm. Joel lights the fire and he takes a seat on the plush grass, stretching out.

"I can take watch tonight." He offers. While the offer is nice, I don't know if I'll be able to sleep. There are several reasons why I should trust him by now, but there's also one major reason why I can't. I shake my head, turning down his offer.

"That's okay, I'm not even really tired. Plus you drove all day." My lie comes quick and smooth. He looks up at me, and I worry he's going to see through my facade. He shrugs his shoulders,

"Doesn't bother me." His voice sounds sincere and I wish I could accept his offer as easily as I did last night.

"I might stay up and plan a little." This isn't the entire truth, but it's not a complete lie either.

"Plan for what?" His brown eyes are illuminated by the fire. Nervousness crawls over my skin.

"Um, just, just for our next stop." I say, deciding that this conversation has to happen eventually.

"What stop is that?" He readjusts his position on the ground so he can look at me easier.

"The Fireflies. We're going to run into them next." I flatly state, waiting for his reaction. Joel's eyebrows shoot up,

"Thought you hated the Fireflies?" His voice is gruff and he sounds irritated. My head nods, agreeing with him.

"I do. And as much as I hate to admit it, I have to talk to them. You saw, their emblem was on that letter. They're involved in this and I can't just pass it up." I feel slightly more confident. He huffs with annoyance and I try to keep my facial expression under control, he can't know how apprehensive I am right now.

"Damn Fireflies." Is all he says, and I think I was hoping for more insight. I decide to leave the conversation there, not wanting to tread on rough waters with him again.

Eventually I take a seat on the grass across the way from Joel. The fire's smoke burns my lungs each time I inhale, but I don't mind it. My thoughts are too occupied with my own internal conflict.

Am I overreacting about what happened earlier? After all, this is the same man who helped me over the barricade, saved me from the perverted men in the town, and insisted he stay with me until Omaha. If his intentions with me were foul, he's had plenty of time to act and he hasn't. But there's something about how defensive he got that's concerning.

My repeating thoughts are interrupted as I hear twigs breaking in the woods behind me. My hand reaches for the curved blade and I'm on my feet in the blink of an eye. There's a shadow moving in the trees, I see it coming closer. Joel stands by my side and pushes me behind him slightly, a knife in his hand as well.

"Don't take another step." Joel's voice threatens. The footsteps stop. It's not an infected. My head turns from side to side to watch for anyone else that may be tagging along with his person.

"I'm just passing through." A manly voice calls back and the footsteps resume. My grip on my knife gets tighter, ready to use it if things go sideways.

"Walk towards me with your hands up." Joel demands. Through the darkness I see the man's hands fly up in surrender and he takes slow steps towards us. I back up so that the man can come to the light, so we can see his face.

He's a young kid, maybe early twenties. His hair is all disheveled, clothes tattered and torn. There's a fear in his eyes as he steps out towards us, like he's never been in this situation before. Raised high above his head, his hands tremble.

"Sit on the ground and cross your ankles." Joel instructs, knife still at the ready. Quickly, the young man nods his head and follows Joel's instructions. I put my knife away, seeing as how Joel has this covered apparently.

"Who are you?" Is Joel's next demand. The kid's eyes raise to meet his.

"Name's Tate." His voice cracks as he talks. From his perspective, Joel has to be terrifying. He's a large man with a knife, of course he's going to be scary. And I'll admit deep down he scares me too.

"What're you doin' out here?" Joel's form is rigid and tense.

"Like I said I'm just passing through." The kid's wide eyes turn to me and Joel snaps his fingers.

"Don't look at her, eyes stay right here." Joel points to his face. The boy nods his head and tears his gaze off of me. The kid's nervousness causes him to keep blabbering.

"I swear man. I'm headed to Pittsburgh. I've got family out that way." Joel shifts his weight, refusing to lower his weapon.

"Pittsburgh is full of raiders and hunters." The kid swallows hard at Joel's words and a look of exasperation comes over him.

"What? No, no that can't be right. How do you know?" Joel sighs and adjusts his knife in his hand.

"Went through there a while ago. Checkpoint's been abandoned. I can almost guarantee that your people aren't there anymore for one reason or another." The kid looks down from Joel's face and I think he might get sick.

I look over what the young man has on him and see that he's travelling suspiciously light. In fact, I don't even see a bag anywhere. If he's travelling all the way to Pittsburgh with nothing but the clothes on his back, he has to be trying to evade something, or someone. Finding my voice, I speak up.

"Where's your stuff at?" Both Joel and Tate look over to me. Joel looks angry and Tate looks confused. Tate's mouth hangs open for a few seconds as he digests the question.

"This is all I have." He confirms my thoughts, which makes me even more curious about why he's out here.

"You're travelling to Pittsburgh with no supplies?" My voice is obviously skeptical. This could be some sort of trap for all we know. Tate's head nods.

"I didn't have a choice. The Fireflies are losing their damn minds, everyone's trying to take charge and it's a mess." His voice seems to calm down as he speaks to me.

"How many are left?" I ask, hoping that there's enough there that someone is bound to know something. Tate shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't know, maybe thirty, maybe less by now." His voice trails off at the end of his sentence and he glances back to Joel, who has not stopped staring him down.

If Tate is fleeing from the Fireflies, he might be more likely to spill what he knows. After all, if he has no loyalty he doesn't have to worry about covering for anyone. Within seconds I'm fishing out the pieces of paper from my bag and I bring them over to Tate. The documents are fanned out in my hands and I sit beside him, letting him look over the materials. His eyes scan over them, reading the instruction note twice.

"What do you know about this?" My voice is low and somber. Tate's eyes meet mine,

"I don't know. This looks like serious shit though. I wasn't high ranking enough to know about stuff like that. No, I was the one who they sent out to kill infected and to be people's bodyguards. But if you get to their base, I'm willing to bet Trevor knows something." His words seem genuine, and I pack all the documents back into my bag.

"Trevor." I confirm and he nods his head. It seems like he's being honest, lies usually aren't that thorough. Standing from my spot beside Tate, I walk to Joel and meet his hard gaze.

"I think we should let him go." I whisper so Tate can't hear. Something tells me that Joel doesn't want him making it out of here alive, but I don't think Tate is going to be any sort of threat to us. Joel's eyes bounce between me and Tate, looking uncertain.

"What if he's lyin'?" Joel asks and I sigh.

"I don't think he is. Look at him, he's scared. Doesn't seem the type to hurt others." I glance over my shoulder at the skinny kid sitting with his ankles still crossed.

"Fine. You can let him go, but you're taking watch if you do." Joel grumbles and brushes past me. I roll my eyes at him before I turn around to meet Tate once more.

"Get out of here." I say, kicking the side of his shoe.

"Really? You're going to let me go?" He sounds shocked, and I nod my head and gesture for him to get going. Tate scrambles to his feet and takes off through the woods again without another word. I hope he finds whoever it is he's searching for, poor kid.

I watch him until I can't see or hear him anymore, and then take a seat across from Joel at the fire once more. He's obviously angry, but I don't care that much. In a passive-aggressive protest, he's turned his back to me to sleep, and I try to make myself comfortable on the sidewalk for another long night of keeping watch.

Part Thirteen

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Changed my update schedule to two times a week (probably Sunday and Wednesdays) because three days was kind of overwhelming hahah. Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback!! I appreciate every single one!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Being shot at?

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

The Pogues come over later to hang out like usual. No one mentions last night's party. I don't know whether its because they don't want to talk about it or we're pretending like it never happened. I'm fine with either.

I sit next to Kie who taps her fingers on a bongo and bobs her head to her own beat. Pope's shuffling a deck of cards to my right and JJ sips on another beer across from me. It's hard to concentrate on what they're talking about. I'm too busy locked in my own head, thinking about what Peterkin said - foster care - what life would be like if we were taken away. Would I ever see my friends again? Would John B and I be in the same foster home? The thought of being separated makes me sick.

"Look, I'm calling it off. All right?" John B pulls me out of my thoughts. JJ rolls his eyes at my brother and glances at me. "Peterkin said if we stay out of the marsh, she'll help us with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ asks. "An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop."

John B sighs. "All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun."

Here we go.

"You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass."

"Topper was gonna drown me?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Funny," John B deadpans.

"Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Tell me some more. Come on." I can tell by the look on John B's face that he's getting annoyed. It's pinched and he keeps rolling his eyes.

JJ steps closer to him. "They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!" He turns around and punches one of the small volleyballs we have tied in a string like a decoration.

"Look, it's okay!" Kie tries to calm him down.

"No, it's not okay! It's not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh." JJ comes back. "That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." He turns to me and points. "I know you do." Then he looks at Pope. "I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you -" He turns to Kie. "I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother? But you and me, and Marleigh, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't all right?"

"JJ -" I sigh.

"And I know it didn't use to be that way for you -"

John B shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's it?"

John B shoves past JJ. "Just get out of my way, bro."

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." Well thats never good. "You got the key to Cameron's big boat right?"

"No," John B says, already knowing where JJ's head is at.

"There's scuba gear. We borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man. You don't see rich kids going into foster care, do you?"

Here's the thing about JJ. He can be really convincing, which is usually the reason he and I get into the most trouble. Because I always fall for what he's saying. He gives me hope when I don't think there is any. He can be surprisingly optimistic sometimes. And when he is, I fall for his charm and agree with everything he says. If he told me to jump off a bridge, I probably would.

When he looks at me, my lips tug upwards into a smile. This creates a domino effect, and soon the other Pogues get excited. John B looks at me, trying to look disapproving but I shrug in response. I mean, JJ's right. What do we have to lose?

                                                       ~ ~ ~

I light a match and ignite my gas stove to make myself lunch. A can of chicken noodle soup that's been in my food closet for who knows how long. John B left to grab the tanks from the Cameron's boat, so the rest of us are waiting here until he comes to pick us up.

"You're eating soup? Its like a hundred degrees outside." JJ walks into the kitchen and lifts himself up on the counter next to the stove.

I stir the liquid around with a wooden spoon and smirk. "Do you see any other edible food around here?" JJ chuckles at that. He knows better than anyone how horrible John B and I are at food shopping. "I meant to go to the store today but..." I sigh. "I've been busy."

JJ pauses, causing me to look up at him. He's usually so quick with his wit and humor. Something I admire and love about him. How he always manages to put a smile on my face with some dumb remark or a sarcastic reply. Only now he's staring at me with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

"You mean other than the impending doom that is foster care that's going to hit me and John B in the near future?" I say sarcastically. I turn the stove off and grab two bowls out of the cabinet behind JJ's head. He ducks for me and my waist presses against his thigh. I pour half the soup in each bowl and hand him one with a spoon.

"Yeah, I mean other than that," JJ says. I blow on the liquid on my spoon to cool it down. The steam that comes up from my bowl already makes me feel hot.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He gives me a look that says he's doesn't believe me, but I ignore it and he doesn't press me on it. Truth is, I am fine. I just have a lot of my mind but I'm going to do my best not to let it ruin my summer. JJ got me excited again. He's promising an adventure and possibly a fortune. He's right. John B and I have nothing to lose. If we don't go on the marsh today, DCS will find another reason to snatch us. So why hold ourselves back?

"Mar, JJ, he's back!" Kie calls out to us from my yard.

JJ sips the last of his broth out of the bowl and I shovel in the last couple of scoops into my mouth. We throw the bowls in the sink and run to the dock where John B and the others are waiting for us.

Pope directs John B to the part of the marsh where we found the wreck. I sit next to Kie in the front of the boat. She's looking at the two tanks that John B was able to snag off the Cameron's boat. Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she studies the gear.

"This is empty," Kie says, looking up at my brother who stops the boat when we find the sunken Grady-White. "You took empty tanks?"

"I..." John B says slowly. He definitely didn't look at it before he took it.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full," Kie says, pulling the tank to her left closer to her. "Its enough for one of us."

"Love it when a plan comes together," I say sarcastically and pass a look to JJ who rolls his eyes.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kie asks.

I purse my lips and look around at my friends and brother. None of them speak up.

"Uh..."

"Anybody?" Kie asks.

"It's kind of a Kook sport," I say.

Pope raises his hand. "I...read about it."

"Great, Pope read about it so someone's gonna die," Kie says.

JJ walks towards us and picks up the mouth piece and shrugs his shoulders. "Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?"

Pope answers, "If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends."

JJ glances between Pope and the rest of us. "Bends like..." JJ bends forward, purposely sticking his butt out, "bend over and..."

Pope cuts him off. "The bends kill you."

JJ snaps straight up. "Right."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "I'll do it."

"Uh, I don't think..." JJ starts to say but my brother cuts him off.

"No. I'll do it."

"What, why?" I turn to my brother and send him a glare.

"Because Pope just said it can kill you and you don't listen to instructions very well." My brother glares back at me. I roll my eyes. He does have a point and evidence to prove it. I usually follow my own gut and ignore others' directions. And because I don't want him to bring up past events, I decide not to fight him on it.

"He has a point," JJ says, earning a punch in the bicep from me. He looks at my brother. "You can dive. I'm cool with that."

"Since when can you dive?" Kie says not liking the idea any more than me.

He shrugs. "I'll do it. It's fine."

"Let me do some calculations real quick," Pope says as John B starts putting on the scuba gear.

"You serious?" JJ asks.

"That boat's about thirty feet down. Okay? So it'll take twenty five minutes at that depth. Twenty five. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about...ten feet."

Contrary to popular belief, I do the actual listening to instructions, I just don't always follow through. But I process everything Pope just said and think of a way to make this easier for John B.

I shimmy out of my jean shorts and pull my top over my head, leaving me in a purple and white striped bikini. Without saying anything, I jump into the water with my shirt.

"Uh..." Pope says, looking into the water where I just disappeared. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I liked it. A lot," JJ says, staring at the same spot. John B slaps the back JJ's head and glares daggers in his direction. JJ pretends to clear his throat and turns away from John B.  "Uh, so..."

Pope pretends to focus on his calculations again, not wanting to get caught by John B for staring at his sister too. "Yeah. Uh, when you uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?"

I guesstimate how deep ten feet is and tie my shirt around the chain attached to our anchor. I look one last time at the blurry image of the sunken boat and pull myself back up.

"Hey," I say to grab their attention. They all look at me. "I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop."

John B nods. "Cool."

I stay in the water, loving how the water feels around me like a protective blanket. I listen to Pope explain the important parts of diving. There's some kind of meter he has to pay attention to to keep track of time.

"Okay, how much do I need?" John B asks.

"Unclear," Pope answers. "Breathe as little as possible."

JJ slaps John B on the shoulder. "Zen. Think zen, you know?"

John B turns to the water, preparing to jump in next to me.  "Yeah. Got it."

"Hey," Pope says, stopping him. "If we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so better get a move on."

"No pressure or anything," I add.

"Copy that," John B says.

Kie approaches my brother and stands in front of him. She's really close to him, almost inches away from his face. Then she leans in and kisses his cheek slowly. Way more intimate than usual. My eyes widen in surprise and I look at Pope and JJ to see their reaction. They mirror mine.

"Diver down?" Kie says softly.

"Diver down." John B says just as softly.

"See ya, dude," JJ says.

John B jumps in the water and sinks down below me. I lay on my back in the water and bathe in the warmth of the sun above me. I even close my eyes, letting relaxation overcome me. I could probably sleep here if I wanted too.

"Shit, JJ," Pope curses, catching my attention.

"Guys, that's the police," Kie says.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," JJ says, glancing at me.

My eyes go wide with anxiety. I swim closer to the boat and look up at JJ. "JJ, they can't know I'm here. If they find me-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's gonna be okay. They're not going to, just stay there."

I nod and press myself tighter against the boat.

"Just act freaking normal," Kie says through clenched teeth.

I can hear the sirens coming closer until I feel their boat bump against ours. I flinch against it and kick my feet faster to stay afloat. I look down at the water, but I can't see John B. My heart races at the thought of him running out of air.

"Evening," I hear one of the cops greet my friends.

"JJ, tie it off," Pope says.

"How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?" The officer asks them.

"No."

"No. Wow."

My friends play dumb. I look up, finding comfort in seeing JJ's long hair. I can tell he's trying hard not to look down at me.

"Why - why is it closed?" Pope asks.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." The officer explains.

"Oh."

"See anything?"

"No." JJ purses his lips and shrugs.  

"No boats," Kie says. "No."

There's a pause and for a split second I think he's gonna call their bluff. But he doesn't. "Where are the other two kids you always hang with? The twins? They here?"

I bite my bottom lip hard in anticipation for what's to come. He knows we're here. He has to. I can tell by how suspicious he sounds. I look back down in the water, John B still invisible to me. I don't know how much time he has left, but he's definitely running out of it.

"They both had to work," I hear Kie answer.

"Hm," The officer hums. "I'm gonna check your little boat out."

Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look around for a place to hide, but the only thing surrounding me is water. I'm going to have to go under.

"Yeah." JJ coughs, risking one last look at me before pretending to help the officer into the boat. "Yeah, hop aboard."

I push myself under the water and swim directly underneath the boat. I open my eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt water. I can see John B's silhouette by my T-shirt and the blurry light of his timer.

Thirty more seconds pass. I swing my arms upwards, pushing myself deeper into the water. The shadow of the cops' boat is still next to ours. My lungs are screaming at me for for air like they're tearing into my chest. Just like John B, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last down here.

My body reactively gulps for air, forcing myself to swallow the salt water. It feels like a stab in my chest, my throat on fire. I've got to pop back up to the surface or I'm going to drown.

Just as I'm about to reveal myself, the shadow of the boat drives off. I push myself up, coughing up the water I swallowed and gasping for air. Less than a second later, John B pops up next to me.

"Oh, god! Jesus Christ," Kie says with her eyes closed and her head looking up.

"Don't scare us like that!" Pope says.

JJ watches me instead of John B, concern laced into his features. As I feel my heart go back to its normal pace, I smile at him and laugh the anxiety off. "You good?" He asks me. I nod and let him help me back up to the boat. "How'd it go down there?" He asks my brother. "Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything?" John B scoffs and holds up a dark velvet bag.

"Yeah, there we go!" JJ claps his shoulders. "That's my boy!"

"Jeez, dude," Pope sighs.

"You okay?" Kie asks John B.

John B pants as he swims closer to the boat. "Yeah, I ran out of air."

"You and me both," I tell him.

John B pulls himself up. When he stands, he's met face to face with Kie who shoves him back playfully. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh...we took care of 'em." Pope says, trying to act like he wasn't going to piss his pants the entire time he was talking to them.

"My bad," John B laughs.

"You're all good."

"Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother," JJ says.

I move to the back of the boat to ring my wet hair out when something catches me eye. Its another boat, but it doesn't look like the one the cops were just using.

"Hey, guys? Guys!" I call louder to grab their attention. "Bogey, two o'clock."

"What?" JJ comes up next to me and eyes the boat that's making its way closer to us.

"Do you recognize the boat?" Pope asks.

"I've never seen it," I answer.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I can make out two people, I think men, standing in the front. They keep their eyes straight on us. No laughing or talking like a couple of buds would on a boat day in the marsh.

"What are they doing here? The marsh is closed," Kie says.

"Let's not stick around and find out." JJ places his hands on my bare waist and pulls me to the side so he can pull up the anchor.

"JJ get the bowline," John B says, not realizing that JJ was already on it.

"Yeah."

"Should we wait on 'em?" Pope asks.

"No. No. We should leave now. Right now," Kie says, looking directly at John B.

"Go get the stern," John B tells me. "Go!"

I kneel next to JJ and help him. Similar to how I felt in the water, my heart beats violently against my chest and my breathing becomes static. I try not to think of the fear that creeps through my veins as I help release the boat from it's hold in the marsh.

"Guys, don't wait for us! Go!" JJ yells.

"Go!" Kie says.

"Pull out the stern!" Pope yells at us.

I yank the chain hard, revealing the slimy anchor covered in seaweed and moss.

"I don't like this," I mutter to JJ between clenched teeth.

John B pulls away from the wreck. JJ looks between me and the boat that still driving in our direction. "Are they coming for us?"

"Maybe they're fishing," Pope says.

"Go, go, go, go!"

"Go into the marsh," I tell my brother, constantly glancing between him and the other boat.

"Let's go," Kie says. I can hear fear creep into her voice and her hands shake around the drivers seat she's holding with a death grip.

"I'm going. Act natural!" John B hisses and revs the engine of the boat.

He takes a left turn into the marsh. I watch anxiously for the people in the other boat to make its move.

They turn left.

"Guys, they're following us!" Kie says.

"This can't be good," Pope says.

"Dude, you gotta go faster!" JJ says.

"I'm going!" John B yells back.

"Gun it!"

I look behind the boat. They're getting closer. Too close. Can't say I'm surprised. The HMS Pogue is no match for their boat that looks more expensive than my house. However, something catches my eye. Something long the guy in the passenger seat is holding and pointing right at us.

"Is that..." I mutter before I'm cut off by exactly what I was going to say.

The gun shot rings through my ears as if the person who shot it was standing next to me. Before I can react, JJ pulls me down to the floor of our boat by my waist and covers me with his own body. I gotta say, this isn't how I pictured him being on top of me. His left arm outlines my head, keeping me face down while other bullets pass our boat. The cries of my friends are dull through the blood pounding in my ears and my heart inching its way up my throat.

"Holy shit!" Kie shouts.

"John B, get down!" JJ yells.

I try looking up at my brother but JJ's hold is strong. John B's still behind the wheel, trying his best to duck from bullets without crashing the boat.

"We're gonna die!" Pope yells.

I try looking around the boat for anything we can use against these guys. Of course JJ decides to leave the gun he stole at my house for the day, leaving us practically useless against these two strangers.

My eyes find a net pooling in front of Kie's face as she keeps her head down. I try crawling out of JJ's embrace which only makes him tighten his arms around me.

"Kie!" I shout. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The net!"

Immediately she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She pulls herself away from Pope and army crawls to the wide net. This only makes my friends yell at her, telling her to get down, but she doesn't listen.

"Get down, Kie!" John B shouts.

Another gun shot echoes through the air, making me flinch closer into JJ.

Kie throws the net overboard towards their boat and drops back down to her knees. The sound of the other boat's engine clanging against the net gets my head to perk up and I watch Kie's reaction. She's surprisingly smiling. When she looks at me, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head in disbelief because that just worked. Their boats gets stuck.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Pope says.

One last gun shot rings through my ears before we make our getaway.  I pull myself off the floor and look back at the boat one last time. We severely underestimated how important finding that boat was. Whatever John B found was worth killing us for.

A couple minutes later, John B pulls the boat up to the Chateau and docks it by the wooden slacks that I used as a bed last night. My friends cheer and actually smile after what just happened.

"That was insane!" Kie says.

"Whoo!"

I look at my brother with adrenaline rushing straight to me head. I feel giddy about finding out what JB found - what must be so important. "What do you think it is?"

"Gotta be money, right?" He asks, looking at me.

"That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mills," JJ says, leisurely danglingly his arm around my shoulders.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope says loudly, forcing everyone's attention at him who now looks at us sheepishly.

"Wow, Pope," John B laughs. "That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation," He says. "Open the bag!"

"Jeez." JJ whistles.

"We almost died over this," Pope says like its an explanation. But he's right. We did almost die for this, which is why I need to know what's in it now.

John B opens the velvet bag. Something heavier than money falls out of it with a thunk. Its round and metal. Dirty and dented. Physically ugly and maybe priceless, but it looks familiar. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to study it and rack my brain through where I've seen it before.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right," Pope sighs at the sight of our treasure. "Good job, everybody. We found a compass."

The word compass hits me like a train and my body goes slack like my limbs just turned into jell-o. John B is already looking at me, shocked at the real meaning of what we just found. I push myself in front of JJ and look down at the object he's holding. Priceless maybe true to the others but not to me. Not to John B. This means everything.

JJ looks between John B and I and laughs nervously at our reactions. "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

My brows furrow together in confusion as I try to wrap my head around how we just found our dad's possession on another man's boat. A dead man's boat. But I feel blank. Like someone just wiped all my thoughts and memories.

"This was our father's compass," I say emotionless, keeping my eyes on JB who looks equally as terrified.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz  @jeeperky​ @realistic-breadstick  @moniamaybank  @urbinoutfiters​ @brebear121​  @x-lulu​

[food-in-your-mitch]

Heat Wave

My first of hopefully many Ronstadt fics!

It’s a damn hot day in LA and Ronstadt is having trouble beating the heat. Then Gus stops by for a visit...

Suggestive but sfw

~~~

Good lord, is it hot in here...

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I’m sure by now I’ve left a Ronstadt-shaped sweat stain on my couch, and the box fan positioned on the coffee table isn’t doing jack squat for me. The a/c still isn’t fixed and the air is nauseatingly stagnant outside, so no breeze to flutter in through my window. So I’m sitting in the dim stillness of a living room with all the lights turned off, downing glass after glass of water to replenish my sweat tanks.

I think there’s some weird irony in sitting by yourself in a dark living room. What living can I possibly be doing?

Suddenly, a loud crash pulls me from my revelry. Whatever it is, it shakes the floor beneath my sweaty feet and makes the box fan wobble on its base. I’m about to make myself more alert, shaking myself out of my heat-induced stupor, but the crashing sound is quickly followed by a shout. A shout, then a whoop, then an exclamation of success. It’s just Gus. I settle back into my sweat stain.

Either Gus doesn’t feel the heat the same way that I do, or it’s magnitudes cooler in his garage than it is here. I don’t even have the time to ponder before I hear his footsteps thundering upstairs to my door. I peel myself off of the couch and open the door before he can get in his first knock.

“Hey, Ronstadt!” He greets me cheerily and lets himself inside. I sigh and steel myself; I’m not exactly in the mood for company. I gesture languidly to his arm, where he has a box of something tucked under his pit.

“What you got there?”

His friendly smile morphs into a mischievous grin. “Well, remember that mini fridge I told you about?”

I nod.

“And how I had so much shit buried in front of it that I couldn’t even open it?”

I nod again. “Yes. I remember the mini fridge.”

“Well,” he continues, interrupting me just quickly enough for me to bypass it. “I got to the damn fridge and look what I found!”

He slams the box down onto my coffee table.

“...Beer?” I ask quizzically. That’s what he was making such a racket about?

Gus smiles brighter. “Not just any old beer, Ron.”

I grimace at the nickname.

“In this box right here are two whole cases of genuine Cold And Lonely Mountain IPA.”

He says that as if it means anything to me.

“Knew I still had some laying around somewhere.” He continues and squats down beside my coffee table to open up the pack of booze. “Last place I had to look was that mini fridge! They’re nice and cold from bein’ in there for so long, figured I’d share.”

He hands me a can that’s dappled in condensation, and the feel of it in my grip is like heaven on earth. I resist the urge to rub the can on the back of my neck like a girl in a cheesy porno. You know the ones. The girl’s car breaks down on a hot day by some spooky old gas station and she spends her remaining quarters on a cold can of pop, but instead of drinking it like a normal person she rubs it across her chest and the gas station owner catches a glimpse of her and... well, I’m sure I don’t need to spell the rest out for you.

Instead, I press the can to the insides of my wrists.

“Ah, I’m not really a beer drinker, Gus.” I say, trying to let him down gently. What I wouldn’t give for a mai tai right now, but the thought of dragging my sweat-soaked body down to the bar makes me feel lightheaded. Gus just waves his hand like he’s swatting away an invisible fly.

“Just try it, for Pete’s sake. C’mon, they’re ice cold!” He cracks open his cold one and settles himself into my sweat stain before I can stop him.

I shrug and pop open my can as well, seating myself down on the opposite side of the couch. He’s already crumpling up his can in his fist before I’ve even taken my first sip.

When the beer hits my tongue, it’s like the Mojave meeting the pacific. The room temperature water I’d been chugging all day has nothing on this, even if it isn’t a mai tai. I hum in appreciation.

“It isn’t bad... thanks for sharing.” I say, and take another sip.

“No prob, bob!” He shoots back at me with a grin and a click of his tongue.

In about ten minutes, we’ve both downed four cans and I’m feeling the buzz that comes along with drinking on an empty stomach. So is Gus, if the way he’s made himself comfortable on my couch is anything to go by. He’s spread out like a drunk starfish, and I reach out to the table to grab two more cans and I pass one over to him. He grins his thanks, all sharp teeth and smarm.

He pops the can open lightning fast and tips his head back as he drinks. His throat bobs as he gulps and I can very clearly see the rivulets of sweat slide down his long neck and disappear beneath the collar of his shirt... an undone button-up, obnoxious and garish with its bright blue and palm tree print, and a gray tank underneath, and the neck of it is darkened by his sweat-

I shake my head to get those thoughts the hell out of there. The heat must be driving me crazy. I pop my can open and take a sip, content to just lean back and watch Gus. I don’t feel too bad, he likes to be watched. I’d know, I’ve seen Get A Room.

I don’t recommend it, by the way.

The way he smirks at me over his now empty can doesn’t go unnoticed. I feel myself flush like a virgin schoolboy when he pokes his tongue out to lick the beer off the lip of the can.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me, Ronstadt...”

God he even sounds nice. Maybe it’s the four and a half beers in my system talking, but his voice sounds gravelly. Husky, like he’s trying to talk quietly. Rumbly like it’s an earthquake rising up out of his chest.

Sexy. It sounds sexy.

I really should just kick him out, he’s invading my space.

But the way he darts his tongue out to swipe quickly across his top lip has me second guessing myself.

Has me wishing I was one of his old hotel guests.

Shit.

“Ronstadt...?”

His timbre breaks my focus. I can hear the dammed grin on his face before I even look at it.

“Yeah...” I say, like an idiot. Gus just gets up and tucks the half-empty box of beer back under his arm. He pats my cheek twice with his free hand and I resist biting him like an angry chihuahua.

“I’d better get goin’, anyway...” he says, unprompted, like he’s trying to get me to make him stay. I’m not falling for it.

“Yeah, guess you’d better.” I crunch my empty can in my fist but I only succeed in making Gus laugh.

“I’ll see what I can do about that damn busted A/C. See ya, Ronstadt...” he clicks his tongue at me again and I throw my beer can against the door after he clicks it shut.

If I thought I was sweaty before, that was nothing compared to how wet I am now.

Whatever. I’d consider it a blessing to die of heatstroke with my hand down my pants. Or at the very least, it would be an appropriate way to go.

[mooniefics]

— quietly (it was told to believe)

pairing : connie springer / reader

word count : 2.4k

tags : heartache, hurt / comfort, friendship / love, mourning, first kiss

summary : life has been unkind to connie springer, and you've been there every step of the way.

— originally posted 1 / 24 / 21 —

"connie.." you tugged at the reins in your right hand, guiding your horse over to trot beside his, "are you alright?"

the sun had just set below the horizon, barely lighting the navy sky enough for you to see the thin clouds stretching out over it, the torch in your non-steering hand providing the best illumination over your friend's face. he looked almost dazed before you'd caught his attention, staring off into the distance at what seemed to be the castle ruins your group was making its way towards, but they were unfocused, blank, eyes filled with something so unfamiliar and sorrowful.

he righted his expression instantly when he turned to you, smiling wide enough that his cheeks puffed and his lids squeezed shut, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. "yeah! but today has been so long, i'm honestly just ready to get some sleep."

you knew that couldn't possibly be true, not after what you'd witnessed in ragako. he'd been calling out for his family, tears in his eyes, just to find his home completely crushed, ruined under the disfigured body of a titan. and though reiner had reached him first to offer comfort, you had caught the way connie's voice wavered, alarmed words spilling out of his as he pleaded with his friend to believe him, that the frail looking abomination before him had spoken and welcomed him home. and while you didn't believe that had really happened, you were sure that such a jarring sight couldn't have been good for him, that maybe in his hysteria to find any sign of life his mind had begun to play tricks on him.

and you'd been worried all throughout your team's trek, how his face had gone from tight with fear and adrenaline to resigned and despondent, then weighed down into the expression you'd seen before he put on a mask of bravery and enthusiasm. he looked so tired, entirely overwhelmed with the reality that his entire family may be dead—were most likely dead—and you couldn't imagine that you or anybody else would fair much better in such a situation. but you simply nodded at his false reassurance, cognizant of your comrades flanking you, not wanting to pry into such a fresh, vulnerable wound and humiliate him before the people he wanted so desperately to be strong for.

so you allowed the silence to fall around the two of you on the remainder of the journey to the castle, air filled with the soft pops and snaps of your burning torches and the dull clop of hooves on the dry ground. it was after you'd all tied up your horses, stretched out your sore legs and backs and barely explored the decrepit space before convening for a brief moment on the bottom floor to take inventory, that everyone had begun to drift off in their own directions. ymir declaring she would look for more food, the veterans taking up the mantle of titan watching on the lookout of the tower, reiner eventually taking off after ymir, christa disappearing down a hall with a gleam of curiosity in her eyes—and suddenly, it was just you and connie alone, sitting in silence beside each other around the small, crackling fire.

"connie," you tried, quietly, hesitantly reaching out to settle your hand over his on the cool stone floor, "you know i'm here.."

he didn't reply, vacant eyes gazing into the flames licking at the darkened kindling, and you could see how the tears glimmered on his lashes, bottom lip wobbling before he pressed his mouth into a thin line. "i just— i don't understand." he whispered weakly, "what did the people of my village, my family.. my mother.. what did they do to deserve this?"

you inched closer, fingers curling around his palm, feeling a twinge in your own heart as you replied. "nothing. they didn't do anything. it was just... a terrible accident."

you hated that you could only offer him such a lame explanation at the moment, but you were as much in the dark on the matter as he was. and though your words may have not comforted him, your touch seemed to make up for it, allowing him to turn him your shoulder and squeeze your hand tightly in his own, just barely trembling, feeling the light drip of tears wetting your shirt.

"it just hurts, you know?" he murmured in your shirt, voice fraying at the edges with sadness.

"i know, connie." you took a deep breath, "one day, things will be better."

he sniffled, swallowing thickly, pulling away to wipe his free hand down his face, hopeless hazel eyes blinking at you. "do you really think so?"

you didn't, you never had, not even on your best days, not when you were lying in bed staring up at the dark in the dorms, not when you were fighting for your life and watching the people you'd come to know be struck down for no good reason, their screamed last words and snapping bones and splattered blood as they disappeared forever into the stomachs of titans.

you could feel that pity, that empathy weighing down your heart heavy even further as you gazed at him, eyes stinging with your own tears as you told him, quietly. "we just have to believe."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you didn't know what hurt more in that moment—the heat still lingering over your skin from the steam of your gas tank, the way the belts of your harness were digging uncomfortably into your chest and thighs, mikasa and armin's broken screams as they kneeled on the ground beside sasha, paying no mind to how her blood was seeping into the fabric of their uniform, or connie's face as he staggered to his feet, taut with horror and such an indescribable grief as he stumbled into eren's holding quarters.

you were paralyzed, staring down at your friend, pale and still on the floor of the airship, your breathing so fast that you barely felt like you were getting any air in, heart a few frantic beats away from bursting in your chest. every part of you felt almost entirely numb, falling to your knees and unable to do nothing but gaze on at the scene before you. you couldn't believe that this was how it had all ended for sasha, after surviving three years of cadet training, four years in the scouts, countless expeditions outside the wall, even trips across the ocean—you couldn't believe that this was where sasha met her demise, on an airship away from home, at the hands of a child, still wondering about food until the very end.

visiting her grave was a dreary, surreal affair, and finding niccolo, the man who'd brought her so much joy through his cooking, so confused and anguished as he mourned despite having only known her for such a short amount of time. but even after he'd left with jean's arm around his shivering shoulders, and mikasa had murmured her soft goodbyes when she caught sight of the sun beginning to sink below to horizon, connie still remained, and you stayed behind with him.

only after everyone else had left did he allow himself to cry, trembling as he kneeled before her grave, head resting forward against the engraved headstone, tears dripping down onto the flowers that had been lain before it. he sobbed and cursed, clutching his hands to his chest, letting out the occasional strained whisper of "sasha.. y-you idiot.. why did you have to go and l-leave me behind so soon..?"

and you turned away to give him his privacy, letting your own tears roll freely down your face as you stared out into the orange sky. but eventually he fell silent, and you slowly knelt down beside him, gingerly placing a hand over his back. "connie, it's late, we should get going." you tried not to let your voice waver for his sake, forcing a small smile as you added on, "dinner'll be served soon. sasha wouldn't have wanted us to miss it."

he let out a wry chuckle, lifting his head to gaze at you with teary, wistful eyes. but they flickered back to her grave for just a brief second, and any semblance of a smile on his lips faded, features instead expressing such a raw, incessant sorrow. "things will get better one day, won't they? maybe sasha won't be there, but we'll live to see for her, won't we?"

you bit at the inside of your cheek, forcing down a sob threatening to shake you as you nodded, settling your other hand over his on the ground just as you had at the ruins of utgard.

"we will. i believe in us. i promise we'll see it for her."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"connie locked himself in his room again."

that was all jean had to say before you were up on your feet, walking briskly down the halls to find him. your first few knocks at the door went unanswered, but you persisted, rapping at it more forcefully. "connie, please open up. it's me."

after a moment, you heard heavy footsteps staggering toward the door, uncoordinated hands wrestling with the knob's lock before it unlatched, the door swinging open to reveal your friend, eyes low and face flushed with intoxication, red cheeks gleaming with tears. but before you could say anything, he was tugging you in by the wrist, throwing the door shut behind you and locking it, stalking back over to his bed and seating himself on the edge of the mattress, balancing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"don't want anyone else t' see me.." he faltered, and though you couldn't see his face, you could hear in his voice that he'd begun to cry again, "like this."

you felt your heart clench in your chest, taking in the state of his quarters. his sheets were messy and twisted, like he'd been thrashing about in his sleep, and the bottle of liquor that lay forgotten on the floor was completely empty, the only light being provided by the dim oil lamp burning in the corner.

"connie.." you sat beside him, arm curling around his shaking form.

"i just don't understand," he slurred, nails digging into his scalp, "i don't fuckin' understand what they did to deserve this! my m-mom, my dad.. sunny an' martin.. s-s-sasha... they were all good people.. why does everyone keep leaving me.. why does everybody keep dying..?"

you didn't know what to say, what could you possibly say to someone who had lost so much that hadn't been told to them a thousand times before? i'm sorry? it'll be ok? things will get better eventually? you didn't even believe that assertion yourself, despite having told him for the last four years over and over that the happiness he deserved—the happiness he'd earned through so much hardship—would come someday if he just believed it would.

"i don't know," you whispered, a hand gently coaxing him to sit up, settling on his warm, wet cheek to guide his gaze onto your face, "but you're still here for a reason. we both are. and i know that everybody we know who has died deserved nothing more than to live a long happy life free of all the shit that's going on now, but now it's our job to make sure everyone who has been lucky enough to make it this far will be able to see that happy ending we've all been working so hard for."

you couldn't help but cry alongside him with the way he was looking at you, with such admiration and sadness shining in his eyes, a trembling hand rising to rest over the one at his face. "do you promise?" he croaked, leaning into your touch, "do you promise that you'll live to see the end with me?"

"i promise." you said without hesitation, "i'll be with you every step of the way."

there was death looming over your shoulder just about everyday now, whether it was the thought of your own demise, or that of your remaining friends, or the nightmares of your fallen comrades that haunted your dreams, it was always there, ever-present, clinging to you like a dark shroud. but for now, in the flickering light of his room, his slender fingers threading between your own, his presence warm and comforting beside you despite the despair you shared, you felt like you could truly, honestly promise him that you two would make it.

and you didn't pull away when he leaned forward, eyes hazy, shining and full of more emotions than you could possibly discern, then gone as his lids fluttered shut. his kiss was tender, almost bittersweet, brackish with tears and sharp with the taste of alcohol on his lips, hand trembling as it squeezed yours. and for the moment, you relished in the feeling of him, in all his agony and adoration and steadfastness, every bit of him that you'd loved in so many ways for so long. and though you wished to stay as you were all night, you remembered the empty bottle at your feet, thinking about whether if you managed to put him bed now if he'd be able to get enough rest to sleep away the majority of the hangover he would be sure to have tomorrow.

so you pulled away, smiling at him, patting his cheek affectionately before you pulled yourself to your feet. "you need to get to bed soon. think about how much of a headache it'll be if you don't sleep this off."

"fine." he had sobered up enough to resign to your logic, standing with huff to join you, stooping low to snatch the bottle off the ground and dump it in the small wastebasket by his door as you flapped out his sheets.

you proceeded across the room to the lamp, pleased with yourself when you heard him clambering into bed behind you, moving to the window to shut his curtains before making your way back over to him.

"g'night."

"goodnight, connie." you bent down to plant a chaste peck over his forehead, able to see his face flush with the thin beam of moonlight peeking through the gap in the thin drapes, "i'll see you in the morning."

you left his room, making sure to quietly shut the door behind you, wandering back down the now darkened hallways to your quarters, an odd, but definitely not unwelcoming optimism for the future fluttering about in your chest—a future you could really believe in for the two of you to share.

[five-miles-over]

Misery Loves Company (Clay Bidwell x Reader)

Summary: After leaving his hometown and all of its chaos, Clay Bidwell meets the reader at a strange bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

Word Count: 2,262

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (allusions to suicide), and some references to the film Clay Pigeons

If there was one thing that Clay Bidwell could change, it would be his decision to trust Lester Long. I mean, what the hell was he thinking, trusting some new guy in town with a big old grin to keep him safe. That guy's self-appointed nickname said it all: Lester the Molester. What a son of a bitch. What a smiling, cheery, fucking son of a bitch.

He should've seen something wrong when Lester opened his mouth and laughed like a goddamn coyote. He should've seen something wrong when Lester kept a cheery spirit around a corpse floating around in a river. Who in their right mind wouldn't be freaked out by something so creepy? Clay himself vomited at the sight, way before he could even catch any of the stench from the rotting body.

Until his best friend Earl shot himself in front of Clay, he'd never even seen a dead person before. Even though he was from a town so small that everyone knew everyone else and their business, death was always something so…covert. It was a covered-up thing, something private. The family would have their little funeral, and next week the obituary would show up in the newspapers. No one ever really kept the casket open, and it was just assumed that the deceased were off to a better place.

It turned out Earl was just the first one in a morbid domino effect. Next, Clay's ex-girlfriend was shot dead…while she was fooling around with Clay. Finally, Earl's widow, who was fooling around with Clay before Earl died, was found dead in her own home.

And of course, Clay was found to be the common thread linking all of those murders. The cops tried to string together a bunch of bullshit and frame him - Clay fucking Bidwell - as some serial killer with women issues or something like that. He could still hear Agent Shelby interrogating him. "You're dating one victim, you're having an affair with another, and you find the body of the third. Kind of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" The agents even came into his house one night and conducted some stupid raid for no reason. Right, they thought he had weapons. But hunting was a tradition in his hometown; almost every guy his age had at least one shot gun in their house, even if it was their dad's or uncle's.

So much for having faith in law enforcement to punish the guilty.

Thank goodness they finally came to their senses and went after Lester Long instead. Clay didn't remember much after watching the police cars chase after Lester. All he wanted to do at that time was leave. Leave this small town, and never look back.

So he did just that. As soon as the sirens began to quiet down, Clay jumped into his creaky pick-up truck, stepped on the gas and drove as far from town as possible. He didn't know where he was going, what direction, what road, or any of that shit. All he knew was that he was leaving the town that had nothing left for him anymore. He drove and drove for hours until the sun went down.

It was a long journey, and Clay found himself thanking his past self for leaving a few beers in the passenger seat. They were all empty by the time that twilight turned into night. Though, if Clay was being honest to himself, it probably wouldn't be enough alcohol for him to forget about spending a night in jail on false accusation, or erase all the death he'd seen.

With some of the money left in his glovebox, he pulled over at some gas station and filled up the tank. According to a sign on the road, he was about fifty miles from some city called Great Falls. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea, Clay thought to himself as he held the diesel nozzle, to try his luck in a big city. He heard stories about people having their own rags-to-riches story by leaving their small hometowns behind for busier places. And if nothing else, it'd be great to try and drive around the state just for the hell of it.

With a sigh, Clay watched as the meter reached its limit and the gasoline stopped flowing through the nozzle. The price wasn't all that bad for its mediocre quality, though it probably meant that Clay would have to sleep in his car tonight. It was hard to gauge the quality of the motels around this unfamiliar place, but he was sure that it would cost a lot more than whatever spare change Clay had left. Better to buy a drink, and get some sleep in the backseat, than to risk sleeping at some flea-infested room and wake up to a missing truck.

He parked the truck close to a neon sign - probably some saloon founded by a jaded business fellow - and walked inside. The place wasn't too crowded, with a few heads turning as soon as Clay walked in. Some of the guys were sitting around a table playing cards, and a lot of the customers seemed like they were regular patrons. Were they outlaws? Probably not. Based on the kinds of guys Clay saw in the saloon he used to go to, those guys drinking were probably just looking for an escape from their deadbeat jobs.

He almost smiled a little when he saw a pool table in the center, though it was strange to him that there was no one playing at the moment. Nevertheless, it reminded him of the good days when Earl and him would perfect their skills. By the time Clay turned nineteen, he was one of the best players in town. If he wasn't so blue right now, he'd be willing to show this new place a trick or two.

Clay looked out the window for a moment as he lit a cigarette. No cops in sight tonight? Good.

Taking a seat at the bar, he continued to people-watch until the bartender came up to him and asked for his order. Just as Clay told the bartender the kind of beer he wanted, you walked right inside and sat next to him.

While the bartender went behind to get the cold bottle, Clay looked you up and down, his lip curling upwards into a tiny boyish smirk. Maybe it was the after-effect of the alcohol from this afternoon, but you looked gorgeous to him…and almost a little mysterious, but also approachable. And you definitely looked nothing like the other customers in the saloon. Maybe you didn't come here often, or you were from another town, just like him.

"Hi."

"Oh…um, hi," Clay stammered, realizing you'd caught him staring. "Um…"

Taking control of the conversation, you introduced yourself to him and reached out to shake his hand. "How do you do?"

"I'm fine. You come here often?"

"Not like this." You shook your head and chuckled to yourself before ordering a drink for yourself. Clay sipped from his beer, listening to you tell him that you used to come here with a partner, on a Friday night after the two of you were done with work. "We had a lot of fun," you told him. "But things eventually just went south, we started fighting, and…I found them in bed with someone they'd been seeing on the side. So I packed my things and left…straight here. My stuff is literally sitting in my car right now."

"I'm sorry," you apologized casually, taking your drink. "I just met you. I don't even know your name and I'm already telling you about my break-up."

"It's fine," he replied with a crooked smile. "I'm Clay, by the way."

"So what brings you here, Clay?"

"Um…just, rough times. Needed to leave." He lied, not wanting to talk much about the things that really forced him here. "Sorry about your break-up. I know what it's like. It really sucks."

"To sucky lives and leaving shitty things behind." You toasted in a mock-celebratory tone, raising your drink and clinking it against his bottle. Clay's smile grew just a bit wider, and he even laughed a little.

The next hour felt like it passed by in the blink of an eye. Over the course of two beers (and who knows how many songs on the jukebox), Clay felt like he'd known you for years. Just by the way you talked about how you were almost done with school, and how much you hated your own little town just like he hated his…it was refreshing, to say the least. You seemed earnest, decent, and probably not tangled up in some kind of crime.

"Do you, by any chance, play?" He asked you after a bit of silence.

"Play what?"

"Um, pool." Clay pointed to the table at the center.

"No, never tried it before."

"I could…I could teach you if you like," he suggested. Now the beer was really taking his toll, making him want to show off a little for you.

"I'd love to learn."

You let him lead you towards the table, where the balls were already arranged for a new game. Clay was really friendly in teaching you the basics, on how to hold the pool stick (which was called a cue). He came up behind you, carefully guiding your hand to the right place on the stick and telling you to keep a good grip. Placing a hand over yours, Clay told you that a good shot involved getting the right angle. With another hand on your waist, he shifted you around nonchalantly so that you faced the right pockets of the table.

The alcohol was quite present in his breath while he spoke, but his voice…damn, you could listen to him talk all night. It was nice that you could get him out of his shell by agreeing to learn. And the way his hands felt on you was pretty nice. Eventually, you were able to make a few combination shots, and Clay was pleased.

"Damn, you're a fast learner."

"Thanks. You're a good teacher."

"Put enough quarters on a table like this one, I sure as hell have to be a pro." Clay bragged a little before the two of you laughed.

Suddenly, you put the stick down and walked closer to him with a smirk, not sure about what had gotten into you. "I…uh, I like the way you put your hands on me," you confessed in a whisper.

Catching your tone, he leaned against the table with a raised eyebrow "You did?"

You gave him a nod and mimicked his posture, leaning against the table as well. "I kinda like you, Clay."

"Yeah…I like you too." He goofily admitted, saying your name like it was something absolutely precious.

Making the first move, you gently pecked him on the cheek and ran your fingers through his messy, dark brown hair. A naughty glint in his green eyes, he took your gesture as encouragement…for something he'd shamelessly thought about since he led you over to the pool table. Boldly wrapping his arms around you, he crashed his lips into yours.

You moaned a little, surprised by how dizzying his kiss felt. "Take this…somewhere else?"

"Fuck, yeah."

The two of you made your way over to a slightly more private booth in the saloon, not wasting any time and continuing your make-out session. Clay didn't hesitate to pin you against the wall, bringing your leg up to get closer to you. Soon, his kisses grew sloppier and hungrier, covering your jawline and your neck. Right now, everything else seemed pretty much like a blur to him.

Kissing him back and lightly tugging at his hair, you painfully gasped his name the moment he got a bit too carried away and sucked at your collarbone. That was definitely going to leave a mark for the next morning…but it was totally worth it.

"Stop," you panted, breaking your lips away from his when you both needed air. "That was…that was...wow."

"Yeah, it really was." Clay agreed, his fingers still brushing your thigh. "You're really pretty. Like movie pretty."

"Maybe you're pretty drunk," you retorted. "A cute, pretty drunk who happens to be great at teaching pool."

"Maybe I'm drunk on you."

"What a line." Giggling, you smoothed your hair before going back to the bar, placing some change for the drink you had.

"You leaving already?" Clay followed you with a surprised and crestfallen expression.

You told him it was almost closing time, pointing out how empty the saloon had gotten since you arrived. "I'll tell you what, Clay." Taking a a pen lying around, you wrote your phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. "It's actually my friend's number, but they'll take a message. Besides, that's where I'm heading to stay until I can find my own place."

"That sounds great. I'll, uh, see you around."

"See you around. Thanks for a great night, Clay." You smiled, leaving him with one last kiss before walking out.

Clay took a long look at the napkin before folding it up and keeping it in his jeans pocket. Throwing some of his change on the bar, he left the bar and sat down in his truck. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the wheel and hoped he'd be sober enough to drive again tomorrow.

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (3/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 27,332

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

Where once Dani had imagined scenarios of breathlessly rounding a corner to find Jamie there, only to find an empty space and a sense of something — frustration? anger? relief? feigned indifference? disappointment? — now Jamie would be there. Every time. As though their schedules had aligned, suddenly and without warning. Dani couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse. Perhaps a mix of both. 

Or — what was it Judy had said? Kismet. 

Dani drove up to the gas station and stepped out of the car. Stanley, the local attendant, jogged out to fill up the tank, and Dani thanked him with a smile. It was an overcast Saturday, but she had dinner at the O'Mara household to look forward to later that evening, and Eddie was off in the next town over helping Tommy build a new deck. Leaving Stanley to handle the car, Dani walked into the shop to idly peruse items she had no intention of buying while she waited. 

Her fingertips were ghosting over the frames of sunglasses that had been on display for at least seven years, when a truck with faded green paint puttered into the row beside her car. Dani's brow furrowed; she didn't recognize that car, and she recognized all the regular cars in this town. Either someone was passing through, needing a top up on their way to some more worldly destination, or someone new had — oh. 

Oh, no. That was Jamie. Jamie was jumping from the high seat, boots hitting the concrete. That was Jamie slamming the door shut and giving Stanley a wave as she made her way into the shop. Before she knew precisely what she was doing, Dani's hand had curled around a pair of large sunglasses and she was sliding them over her face. She angled herself away from the door with the pretense of admiring the glasses in the small smudged mirror perched atop the display rack. 

Behind her the bell jingled. The sound of heavy footsteps and the brush of a draught as the door swung shut once more. Dani held her breath, eyes flicking up towards the mirror. She could see the reflection of Jamie's legs angled in the glass. Even when Jamie turned and strode towards the counter, Dani could feel the tension in her own shoulders until she was wound tight as a spring. 

There was the slap of the service bell and Jamie's unmistakable voice calling out, "Hunter! I know you're back there! C'mon! I'm trying to give you actual money here!" 

The door to the back room swung open, and Dani could hear a sigh. "Jamie," said Hunter, sounding weary. "You couldn't wait five minutes for Stanley?" 

"He's busy, and I need oil." 

"I just sold you some last week." 

"What? Is there a ration enforcement in these parts? Are we still at war with ze Germans? Didn't anyone tell you? That shit's all over, mate." 

"I'm not that old." 

"Bullshit, you aren't," Jamie said, and even without seeing her face Dani could see the teasing grin that came with her tone. "I've seen those medals you parade around every Veteran's Day." 

"Those are for Korea, you dunce." 

"Really? Always thought it was for those damn Boers." 

"All right. All right. I'll get your damn oil. You happy?" He began to stomp back through the rear door. "How many bottles do you need this time?" 

"Make it six," Jamie answered. "Best be safe, yeah?” 

Whatever he grumbled in answer, Dani couldn't hear. She kept her shoulders hunched, reaching for another pair of sunglasses — bigger this time — and jammed them atop the bridge of her nose. Through the windows she could see Stanley finish up with her car, replacing the cap, and then move to Jamie's. Clearly he intended to ring them both up at the same time. Made sense, but that didn't stop her from wishing she could slip away without Jamie noticing her presence. Maybe she could just lie and say she left her wallet at home, drive away, and then come back to pay later when the station was decidedly Jamie-free. 

Jamie herself had vanished from the little mirror. Dani's ears pricked, and she glanced around as surreptitiously as she dared while maintaining the illusion of shopping. There, at the corner of her vision, she could see the slope of Jamie's profile moving through the only two aisles in the whole place. Dani shuffled around in an attempt to keep her back facing Jamie, rather than turn the display rack. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror, and tried to remain as quiet and unassuming as possible. 

"Don't reckon that pair suits you much." 

With a jerk, Dani glanced over her shoulder. Jamie was leaning her elbows on the short aisle dividing the space between them. She had clearly been shuffling through the magazine section, for she held the latest Wonder Woman comic book edition in her hands, along with some other magazine that bore bold red text over a picture of Cher’s face.

"Oh," said Dani. "Hi, Jamie." 

Jamie did not answer immediately. Instead, she withdrew and wandered around the aisle to stand beside Dani. She tucked the comic book and magazine under one arm, and lifted a hand to point at various sunglasses in silent judgement. Her lips were pursed in thought. She shook her head, pointed to the next, made a face, pointed to the next, and then finally - 

"These," Jamie said, pulling down a pair of pink-rimmed glasses. "Try these." 

Clearing her throat, Dani took off the pair she was currently wearing. Jamie had unfolded the pink sunglasses and was holding them out towards Dani for her to put on. Dani ducked her head slightly to let Jamie slip the sunglasses into place. 

"Oh, yeah," Jamie said. "Those are the ones." 

One hand still occupied with the other pair, Dani reached up to push the ones she wore further up her nose. "Better?" 

"Worse. So much worse." Jamie grinned. "You should definitely buy them." 

With a snort of laughter, Dani pulled them off and put both sets back on the rack. "Still giving out terrible fashion advice, I see." 

Jamie shrugged, the corner of her mouth curled in a grin. "Keeps me honest." 

Turning towards the rack, Dani plucked a pair of vibrant chemical green sunglasses with triangular frames, and held them out to Jamie. "I'll buy the pink ones if you buy these." 

Without a lick of hesitation, Jamie took the sunglasses and donned them. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Really bring out my striking personality, don't they?" 

Dani was biting at her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. "Oh, absolutely. People will see you coming from a mile away now." 

"I was thinking I could use them to direct traffic when the grid goes out. Are they glow in the dark?" Jamie pulled them off to check the tag. 

Before Dani could answer, the door opened and Stanley entered. He looked over at the two of them. "You're all done, ladies. Who should I ring up first?" 

Dani pointed at Jamie, who pointed back at her. 

"No, really," insisted Dani. "You should -" 

"Nah. I'm still waiting on that oil from Hunter. Go on." 

And as if summoned, Hunter reappeared from the back room with a case of oil beneath one arm. 

"Didn't just have six bottles lying around," he said, moving behind the till and scanning the box into the system. "Had to scrounge around in storage. Let's go, Taylor. I don’t got all day." 

He waved at Jamie to approach, like a king beckoning forth a serf. 

"Guess that answers that question, then," Jamie said. She gave Dani an apologetic smile, then strode over to the counter. 

When she placed the two magazines and the sunglasses down, Dani blinked in surprise. "You're not honestly buying those, are you?" Dani asked, stepping into line behind her. 

Hunter rang up all the items, and Jamie passed over some cash. "'Course I am," she said. "The kid'll love them." 

Hunter gave Jamie her change, at which point Jamie stacked the magazines atop the cardboard box of oil and swept them all up beneath her arm. Then, she whipped the garish sunglasses over her nose and ears, said, "Ta," and sauntered out of the service station like she owned the place. 

Dani was still staring after her when Hunter asked, "Was there anything else you wanted?" 

Dani jolted as if from a daydream. She shook her head. "Uh - no. Thanks, Mr. Thompson. I'll see you at Church tomorrow." 

By the time she had paid and walked out to her car, Jamie was gone.

 --

Dani didn’t even have to wait for the end of the day before another run in. No sooner had she stepped into the O'Mara house, than Judy was sighing about having forgotten to pick up onions for dinner. Dani immediately held out her hand for the shopping list, saying, "I'll go. You stay." and Judy gratefully handed it over.

"You're a star," said Judy, pressing a kiss to Dani's cheek and cash into Dani's hand.

"It's no problem," Dani said with a laugh, already heading back towards the front door where her car awaited, parked on the street outside.

Carson trotted after her, intent on coming along to keep Dani company. And also, she suspected, to have free reign over her stereo, where he could blast the latest pop tunes without anyone in the house telling him to keep it down. With a shake of her head and a small smile, Dani drove them down to the supermarket.

It should have been a quick jaunt. Grab what they needed and head back home for dinner. In and out. Completely uneventful.

Dani was bickering with Carson in the produce aisle, when she saw her. Eyes going wide, Dani immediately dropped down to a crouch beside the display of potatoes.

"What are we doing?" Carson whispered loudly as he crouched down beside her. "Did you drop something? Oh, look, I found a quarter."

"That's - uh - That's nice," Dani said, not really paying any attention to him as she lifted her head to peer over the potato display as though peering over the parapets, fearful of incoming gunfire.

Carson did the same, and his eyes lit up. "Hey, is that Jamie? Mom mentioned she was back in town -"

"Shh!" Dani tugged him back down by the back of his leather jacket until the both of them sat on the ground, their backs pressed against a fruit stand.

Carson gave her an odd look. "Okay, this is not what I expected."

"What do you mean?" Dani asked, not really paying him much attention. She dared to peek around the corner, but Jamie must have moved along to a different aisle; she was nowhere in sight.

"Well, for starters, I thought you'd be glad to see her again. Not -" Carson gestured to her with one hand. "- Doing whatever this is."

The tiles were cold beneath her. Dani met his gaze and held it for a moment before turning away once more. "It's complicated."

"Complicated? You two were glued at the hip."

"Yeah, and then she left," Dani said far more sharply than she had intended.

Carson held up both hands in surrender, quarter still stuck between the fingers of his left hand. "Okay. Okay. None of my business, clearly." When she didn't answer him, he said in a low voice, "So, how long are we going to wait here? It's just — I'm hungry. And I am contemplating eating raw spuds at the moment, so -"

"What the hell are you two doing down there?"

And for the second time in less than twenty four hours, Dani nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound of Jamie's voice. She craned her neck to find Jamie leaning over a display of garlic and shallots to stare at them in bewilderment. 

Immediately, Carson gave the quarter a flick into the air with his thumb and caught it again. “Found this.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose and she grinned. “Not bad. And you are -?”

Pushing himself upright, Carson pocketed the quarter and said, “Aw. Don’t recognize me for my devilish good looks? I’m wounded, Jamie.” 

For a moment Jamie’s forehead furrowed in bemusement, and then her eyes widened. “Holy shit. Carson? No way.” 

He laughed, arms opening for a hug which she stepped into without hesitation. While they were having their happy little reunion, Dani rose to her feet and surreptitiously brushed off the backs of her legs, trying to not appear as out of place as she felt. Jamie and Carson parted with hearty pats on the back and full smiles. Jamie let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment before lowering her arm.

"Look at you," she said appraisingly. "Christ, but you shot up, didn't you? Still the shortest brother, I see."

"Hey, fuck you," he said but his grin only widened. "I bet you're the shortest of the group now. Hey, Dani! Stand beside her and let's see who's taller."

Hesitant, Dani did as she was told. She and Jamie stood back to back, while Carson measured their heights with the flat of his hand. It was like being back in Judy's house as kids, marking growth spurts in pencil on the wall that Judy refused to repaint as the years dragged on, so that to this day it was littered with marks. Except this time, Dani and Jamie were very careful not to touch. Dani could feel the brush of Jamie's bulky jacket against the back of her arm, and she jerked her hand away immediately.

"Hate to break it to you," Carson said to Jamie, "but you're now officially The Shortest. God rest your soul, Jamie Taylor. I hardly knew ye."

When Dani turned back around it was to find Jamie looking genuinely horrified at this news.

"Come off it!" Jamie said, and she checked Dani's legs. "You're wearing heels, aren't you?"

Shaking her head, Dani lifted one foot to prove that she stood in simple flats, whilst Jamie herself wore thick-soled leather work boots encrusted with mud.

"Fuck me," Jamie muttered, while Carson laughed mockingly at her.

Dani cleared her throat and reached for a pre-packaged bag of white onions from the display. "Hey, Carson, we should -" she said with a jerk of her head towards the exit. "Your mom's waiting for us back home to bring these."

His eyes lit up and he turned to Jamie. "You should come over! You know mom. There's always room for one more at the dinner table."

For a brief terrifying second, Dani thought Jamie was actually going to accept his offer, but Jamie only shook her head. “Nah. I got to get back home to the kid before he burns the place down. Some other time, maybe.”

Jamie gave them each a nod, and then continued on her way, picking up a plastic shopping basket as she went. Dani watched her go, jaw tight. When Jamie had rounded the far aisle and vanished from sight, Dani turned to find that Carson was watching her instead. 

“What?” Dani asked, fingers tightening around the netted packaging in her grasp. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“No,” Dani lied. “It was fine.” 

Carson smiled at her, indulgent and gentle, before nudging her. “I wasn’t lying about starving to death, though. Come on.”

Rolling her eyes, Dani followed him to the register to pay.

 --

It was nearly six in the evening when Dani finally tore herself away from her desk at school the next week. She had run out of papers to mark and classes to plan, no matter what she told herself to the contrary. There was always more work to do, but even she could not deny that there was nothing more to be accomplished now. Not when she could hardly concentrate enough to do more than twirl a pen between her fingers and ignore the growling of her own stomach.

She should go home. She should make dinner. She should do the dishes. Hell, she should probably vacuum. And yet here she was, grasping at any straw that might detain her for another five minutes.

With a sigh, she pushed away from the desk and rose to her feet. Packing everything away, she slung her bag over one shoulder and left, stopping to lock up the classroom behind her. The halls of the school were empty. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows and washed the floor in golden tones that warmed her ankles with every step. As she trotted down the stairs leading to the front door of the school — the janitor would lock up everything at seven, she knew — Dani paused.

Mikey Taylor was still seated against the trunk of a tree on the front lawn. His head rose and he waved in a bored manner towards her. Dani lifted her hand in return. She almost took a step in his direction, before with a shake of her head she steered herself away towards where her car was parked in the staff lot.

It wasn't her business, she told herself sternly. How Jamie raised her little brother was Jamie's prerogative. Never mind that Mikey shouldn't be sitting out here alone for nearly three hours, waiting to be picked up. Never mind that the school library closed at four, kicking out any loitering kids. Lips pressed into a narrow line, Dani yanked open her car door and threw her bag into the passenger seat. It wasn't any of her business. Jamie had made that clear enough ten years ago.

Dani shut the door behind her with a little more force than was strictly necessary. The keys jangled as she stuck one into the ignition. One hand on the steering wheel, the other on the key, Dani paused. From here, she could just see Mikey over the dashboard. He had taken to tearing up grass and making a pile on the ground.

Dani firmly ignored him as best she could, and turned the key. Her car sputtered and groaned. She stopped, then turned the key again, only to be faced with the same results.

"Come on," she muttered, gripping the steering wheel tight.

This time when she turned the key, the engine gasped to life, followed by an awful grinding noise. Dark noxious smoke started to eek up from the seams of the hood. Dani groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, while the car shuddered beneath her seat. She would need to go back inside to ring a towing company and then ring Eddie and ask him to come get her. Doubtless, he would spend the whole ride home complaining about her car and how she should give it up. 

Great. Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse.

Someone rapped on her window. Dani’s head jerked up. She blinked out the driver’s seat window at the sun-drenched silhouette of Jamie Taylor standing just outside. Dani’s hands flexed against the wheel. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in, but then Jamie was tapping at the window again with the back of her knuckles. Opening her eyes, Dani wound down the window.

"Not that I should tell you how to live your life," said Jamie by way of greeting, "but you should really turn off the engine."

Dani twisted the key in the ignition, and the car spluttered and died. The dark smoke that had been threading from the hood was now beginning to fade, though she could still smell something acrid on the air.

Jamie had shifted somewhat so that the sunlight now lanced directly into Dani's eyes. Dani squinted out the window, lifting one hand to shield her brow, and said, "Hi."

"Mind if I have a look?" Jamie asked, gesturing towards the front of the car.

"What?"

"Your engine. Mind if I check?"

"Oh. It's - You really don't have to,” Dani stumbled over the words. “I was just about to run back inside to call a tow -”

“I don’t mind,” said Jamie, briefly glancing at Mikey, who was now sitting in a green truck parked on the street. “Reckon the kid won’t mind either. What’s a few more minutes?”

Finally, Dani gave a relenting nod. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

Jamie was already rounding the car to stand before it, her fingers searching beneath the seam of the hood. "Can you pop the bonnet? Should be a lever or summint in there."

Dani scouted around until she found the lever Jamie was speaking of, and the hood popped open with a lurch. She opened the car door and stepped out as Jamie was lifting the hood with a groan of metal on metal and holding it in place with a steel arm latch. The moment she hoisted it up, a cloud of oily smoke bloomed forth, and Jamie waved it away with a cough and a screwed up face. 

"Fuck. That's bleedin' awful," Jamie muttered to herself.

Arms wrapped around herself, Dani moved to stand by one of the front tires. "He's been waiting out here for a while," she said, nodding towards the green truck. "I - uh - I tend to keep an eye on him. From the classroom, I mean. I can see the front lawn from my classroom."

"'Fraid there's not much I can do about that," Jamie said, already bending over to poke around in Dani's engine. "I work long shifts at the botanical gardens. Got to make a living somehow."

"Yeah, but - It's a long time, is all I'm saying."

Gingerly, Jamie touched some sort of spout and unscrewed a cap so she could pull out a long narrow stick of metal from the engine. "Yeah? He say anything to you about it?"

"Well, no," Dani admitted.

"Anybody pick on him?"

"No."

Jamie shrugged, still not looking up from where she worked. "If he's that keen to get home earlier then, he can walk. I used to walk further to school everyday. Remember?"

Nodding, Dani sat on the edge of the car, careful not to get any grime on her skirt from the exposed engine. The car had been sitting in the sunlight for so long, she could feel the burn of metal through the fabric of her skirt. "Yeah," she sighed, shifting slightly so that she wasn’t leaning her full weight on the car. "Yeah, I remember."

Silence fell between them. Dani watched idly as Jamie did this and that, wishing she knew anything at all about cars. Jamie's overalls and band shirt were already dirty, the jean material streaked with mud. An errant leaf was stuck to the sole of Jamie's boots, and her hair was tied back from her face with a bandana. Dani chewed at her lower lip, glancing away when Jamie bent over further so that the torn collar of her t-shirt revealed her collarbones and a length of silver chain disappearing beneath the fabric.

"How long's it been like this?" Jamie asked.

"About six months now," said Dani. "I just got it out of the shop a few weeks ago, but nothing seems to stick."

"Well, whoever worked on it last clearly did a shit job if it's still doing this."

Dani bit back a swell of embarrassment. The mechanic had been under the recommendation of Eddie, and it wasn't as though there were many mechanics to choose from in a place like this. Not any that would take her seriously on her own, anyway.

"Trust me," Dani said, "This is an improvement."

"That bad, huh? Can't make any promises that this'll do much, then. Might be able to patch it, if we’re lucky."

"I thought you could fix anything," Dani replied, unable to keep back a small grin, and something like lead dropped in her stomach at the familiarity of the comment. 

Jamie paused, eyes flicking up to meet hers, standing frozen for a moment. Dani could feel the smile slide from her face, and Jamie turned her attention back to the engine. 

“Would if I could,” Jamie finally said. “But I’m no mechanic. Just a bit of a gearhead in my spare time.” 

Wringing her hands together in her lap, Dani said, "Thank you anyways."

"No problem, Poppins."

Hearing that old nickname again was like an electric shock, like a current racing up her spine and buzzing at the nape of her neck. Dani twisted the gold band of the engagement ring around her finger and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something she would regret. 

“Well, now,” Jamie grunted a while later, arm still half-buried in the engine of Dani’s poor car, “There’s one problem, right there. Your rear main seal’s leaking all over the place.”

“And that’s -” Dani said slowly, “- bad?”

Jamie continued poking around, leaned over so far she was standing on her toes now to crane her neck and see past all the bits and bobs Dani couldn’t name if her life depended on it. “It’s not great. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed a trail of oil in your garage or driveway? After you’ve parked, maybe?”

Dani nodded.

Even after receiving confirmation, Jamie stepped back in order to crouch down and look beneath the car. “Yeah, there’s some here, too. Thought as much.”

Dani asked, “How bad are we talking here?”

Straightening with a shrug, Jamie wiped at her cheek with the back of one hand, leaving a streak of oil in its wake. She leaned over the engine for another poke around inside. “Means you’ve been slowly running out of oil since you last took this to the shop. If it were the front main seal, it would be an easy fix, but this -” She hissed and yanked her hand back from the hot metal exterior she’d touched, “- ow! Fuck!” Jamie waved her hand through the air for a few seconds before diving back in. “This is a big job. Got to remove the transmission, the clutch, the fly wheel — you get the picture. Hours and hours of work just to get at a five dollar seal. Nothing I can do about it here.” 

“Do I need to call a tow?” Dani asked, already wincing at the bill that was yet to come. 

“Nah,” said Jamie, leaning back and standing up straight. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I have some oil in my boot. Should be enough to get you home, but you’ll need to have it looked at sharpish.” 

Drawing in a deep breath, Dani nodded. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe it was just time to sell it. Maybe it wasn’t worth anything but scrap. Maybe -

“Hey.” 

Dani jerked her head up. 

Jamie had undone the bandana and was now using it to wipe off her hands. Her brows were furrowed, watching Dani with an expression of distant concern, as though afraid to get too close but idling just an arm's length away. Without the bandana, her hair was a mess of fly-aways wisping about her face. Dani had to throttle the urge to reach out and smooth them back. Maybe if it had been a decade ago. But not here, and not now.

Jamie tilted her chin up in a nod towards Dani. "You all right there? Got that look. One that says you're too deep in your own head."

Dani cleared her throat. Her hands itched to move, so she occupied them by running them through her own hair with a sigh of frustration. "Yeah. It's - It's nothing. Really. My car's been having a lot of problems lately, and -" She cut herself off, then laughed ruefully. "It's going to sound stupid, but I just don't have the heart to sell it, you know? So —"

Dani let her hands fall back to her side, but even then they fidgeted; her ragged thumbnails running along each individual pad of her fingertips.

"So," Jamie said slowly. "Buy a new one."

Dani's mouth dropped open, but the words escaped her.

"What? Don't have enough money?" Jamie asked, sounding incredulous. "I know they don't pay you that poorly here. And didn't you just sell your old house?"

"How do you -? How do you know that?"

Jamie gave her a look. "Dani. Please. You think there are secrets? In this town?"

For some reason that simple statement sent a shiver of apprehension down Dani's spine, coiling in her gut like a live snake. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. "I know North Liberty isn't London or anything, but it's not that small."

"If there are more than two thousand people in this place, I'll eat that rear main seal of yours," said Jamie, swatting at the exposed engine with her grimy bandana.

Glaring, Dani huffed and crossed her arms. "It's not the money."

Jamie was winding the bandana round and round the knuckles of one hand. She looked so at ease, leaning against the front of Dani's car, engine oil on her face, one booted foot propped back against the rusty bumper. She could have been a poster. "What's it then?"

Dani lifted her chin. "None of your business."

Jamie blinked, taken aback, eyebrows raised. "Wow." She laughed, but the sound held no real mirth. "Right. Well. Suppose it isn't."

Dani glanced away, arms tightening around her midriff. When Jamie pushed off of the car and began walking away, bandana slung over one shoulder, Dani said, "Where are you going?"

Jamie did not stop. "To get that engine oil."

The little frisson of fear was joined by a curdling guilt and shame. Dani ground her teeth. Her fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against her opposite rib cage, counting seams in bone. There was the banging of a truck door, a scuffling about followed by muffled swearing — ‘Mikey, hand me the - thanks, mate’ — then Jamie was striding back towards her with a squared blue bottle in one hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, when Jamie had come back into earshot. 

Already Jamie was shaking her head, not looking in Dani’s direction as she made a beeline towards the car. “What was I going to do?” she asked. “Up and leave you stranded here? For the vultures?” Jamie unscrewed the bottle and gestured with the cap towards the empty suburban street filled with sunlight and white picket fences. “It’s bloody dangerous in these parts, you know. Take my life into my own hands even dropping off the kid every day.”

Unable to help herself, Dani gave a huff of laughter. Jamie still wasn’t looking in her direction, but Dani could see the smirk from the slant of her profile as she began pouring oil in what Dani presumed was the right place. Dani watched. She loitered. She brought her hand up to her mouth, realized what she was doing, and dropped it firmly to her side again. In no time at all, Jamie straightened, screwing everything back into place and lowering the rod that held up the hood of the car so that she could drop that, too, and latch it into place by leaning atop it with one palm. The vehicle dipped over its front wheels, suspension squeaking slightly.

When Jamie turned, Dani held her breath and waited for some kind of backlash. 

Jamie patted the hood of the car. “Better take the old girl home, eh?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I will.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Jamie said, and her grin was soft. Dani stumbled for a reply, and could form none. 

When Jamie made a motion as though she was going to walk back towards her own truck, Dani blurted out, “Thank you.” 

Jamie’s footsteps faltered for a split second, but then she was continuing on her way. As she passed Dani, she said, “Good night.” 

“Night,” Dani heard herself say as if from miles away. 

 --

The drive home for the most part was uneventful; the car creaked and rattled with every sharp turn of the corner, the old air freshener hanging from her rear view mirror swung gently, and the streets were clear from the evening traffic rush. A normal drive, interspersed with the events of the last few days like a broken film reel on loop. Every single expression that crossed Jamie’s face, the things Dani said or could’ve said, the steady confidence in Jamie’s hands as they delved into her car’s engine. 

At a stoplight, Dani’s eyes strayed to the ring on her finger, the evening sun making it glitter bright. Her stomach twisted tight, and an eyedropper of uncertainty rippled through her. When the noise in her head became too loud, she flicked on the radio where the station Carson had set still played, the sound of Madonna blaring through her tinny speakers and filling the cabin. She set the volume high, and let it carry her the rest of the way home. 

Home, which happened to be a two storey house painted white with dark green shutters and a grey tiled roof, with too neat of a green lawn and a white picket fence. Eddie’s dream house. When he had finalized the deal, he'd picked her up in a rib crushing hug and spun her around, laughing. The day they finally got the keys and moved in, he had insisted on carrying her through the front door and bellowed, “Honey, I’m home!” into the empty house, the sound echoing and loud. She had laughed then, happy to see him so happy. Happy to be a part of that moment with him. Now, as she sat in her idling car in the driveway, staring up at the house, a part of her wished that he'd asked, just once, if she had liked it at all, too. 

She shook off the feeling and pressed the remote clipped to the sun visor to open the garage door and park the car inside. She sat there for a moment, listening to the radio play when the thought suddenly occurred to her — wondering if Jamie still listened to that same jarring music she used to adore. The same kind of music she would play on the boombox shared between the boys, laughing as Eddie and David winced at the aggressive sounds while Carson and Tommy nodded along. Dani particularly didn’t feel one way or the other, merely enjoyed how much fun they seemed to have. 

She cut the engine, leaving her in silence. She stepped out of the car and entered the house, debating with herself the entire way. Eddie wasn’t home yet, the house somehow emptier and colder without him there as a buffer to the long shadows cast against the walls and floors from the evening sun. There was a wariness to her entry, being alone in a house that seemed to have a will of its own, like being locked in a room with a voiceless stranger, trying to get to know one another and utterly failing. Dani set down her car keys and purse with an apologetic wince at the clatter of metal against tile. Shaking herself of the feeling that she was being watched, she went in search of Jamie's old mixtape.

She’d have to go looking for Eddie’s walkman as well, having no idea where he had placed it last. Maybe she could ask him when he came home. The thought made her pause, mid-way through shedding her heels and blazer, acid building in her stomach just at the idea of explaining why she suddenly needed to listen to a tape a decade old. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, cursing under her breath before delving deeper in the house to press play on the answering machine as she went through her evening routine instead.

The crackling sound of tinny voices accompanied her throughout the house like absent ghosts. Dani only vaguely paid attention to the words: messages from Eddie’s friends with plans for dinner parties and dates, Judy reminding them of forgotten tupperware, a tipsy Carson trying to convince them to come to his next show as music blared in the background, Eddie’s coworker reminding him of important dates, Eddie — 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice echoed through the house, thin and staticky from the machine, “I know you’ll be home before me today, so I just wanted to let you know not to get started on dinner tonight. I’ll be bringing home something. I have some great news. Love you, see you soon.”

And then the house dropped silent once again. Dani sighed, already midway through preparing leftovers from Judy. It was like a sign, a ticking clock counting down ominously, compelling her to abandon the leftovers back in the fridge and leading her towards the corner of the house where she had temporarily placed the simple wooden box without any idea of where else to put it. The idea of hiding it in the closet she shared with Eddie left her skin crawling; it had no place there, not where she already shared so much of herself with him. The attic or basement didn’t feel right either, like she was tucking away those memories, like something to be abandoned. Instead, she had placed it where other stacks of boxes were piled, unopened and forgotten, in a corner in the dining room. A place she knew Eddie hadn’t bothered to touch for weeks, too busy setting up the other vast rooms of the house. 

She twisted her hands as she was lured towards it — like a shining bright beacon, like a lighthouse on storm-battered shores — but when she turned into the dining room, she slowed, her heart plummeting to her stomach. The corner was empty. Void of any labeled cardboard boxes. Her brows furrowed as she stepped towards the corner, a cold sweat sweeping over her skin. 

“Shit,” Dani muttered, her heart crashing against her ribs, her hands clenched into fists.

She spun around on her heels, searching every corner of the room, scattered with an assortment of their shared belongings along the walls and around the long dining table. She rummaged through it all, her hands trembling, panic rising in her throat like bile. 

“Shit,” she repeated, when she came up empty, her breathing heavy.

She ran through the logical possibilities, her mind racing. Eddie decided to finally tackle the dining room. Eddie packed away the contents of the cardboard boxes. Eddie found her box. Eddie opened it to glean its contents. Eddie threw it away.

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. For all his own feelings regarding Jamie, she knew he wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t crack open and toss away the beating heart of Dani’s memories, like it was something foul and rotten. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself, as she tore through the rest of the house, repeating it in her mind like a mantra — he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t —  her breath coming in faster and her eyes burning as she came up empty at every turn. 

It was like the house had eaten it, swallowed it whole. Hungry in its desire to consume anything that didn’t belong. That didn’t fit in. 

After fifteen minutes of searching, her eyes wild and her throat thick, she stood in the middle of the living room. A pressure formed in her chest, slow but familiar as with every shallow breath she took, along came a dull burn that spread across her chest. Dani pressed a hand hard to her breastbone, willing away the pain as her heart pounded against her palm. Dani hadn’t had an asthma attack in years. She couldn't remember the last time she even had one, always so diligent and careful. And of course, it had to be over this of all things. 

The front door clicked open. Dread pooled in her stomach at the sound of Eddie shuffling in. “Hey, I’m home!” he called. 

Dani couldn’t find the words to respond, her breath coming in too fast, too sharp. Every struggling breath pained. 

“Danielle?” Eddie called again when she didn’t respond, and then, “Danielle!” Heavy hands fell on her shoulders, and then her cheeks. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on? Open your eyes."

Dani hadn’t realized she closed them. She flickered them open to meet Eddie’s concerned face. “Inhaler,” she finally managed to gasp, wheezing. 

He nodded, spinning around to locate her bag, digging through it and pulling out the small blue device before returning to her. He watched silently with a deep frown and thinned mouth as she inhaled her two doses, letting her breathe it in for a moment. 

“Are you okay now?” he asked softly.

She was still breathing heavily, her hands trembling around the blue device, but the low embers in her chest slowly ebbed away. The pressure that had formed a tight knot began to loosen. It was slow going, but the rescue inhaler did its job. Dani pressed a hand back to her chest and nodded, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. His shoulders visibly dropped, sighing and pulling her in towards his chest in a hug. 

“Jesus,” he muttered, “You scared me.” Dani pressed her eyes closed, unable to compel herself to wrap her arms around him. “That hasn’t happened in a long time. What happened?”

Her chest ached. Slowly, she pulled away from him, her trembling hands against his chest. “My things, Eddie,” she murmured, swallowing hard against the tremor in her voice, and finally looked up to meet his frown, “Where are my things?”

His frown deepened. “What things?”

“My box.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered between hers, bewildered. “I’m...what box?” Exhaling sharply, Dani took another step back and rubbed hard at her eyes. “I really don’t know what box you're talking about.”

“In the dining room, Eddie. It - it was a plain box.”

He stared blankly at her, blinking. “There were a lot of boxes in there,” he said slowly, as though patiently explaining to his nephew why dinosaurs didn’t exist anymore. 

Her breath started coming in fast again. “It was a wooden box with a bronze latch,” she said, desperately willing him to remember. He nudged up his glasses, his frown deepening in puzzlement and concern, visibly thinking hard. “Eddie…” she breathed, fighting back the burn in her eyes. 

A light bulb seemed to switch on in his head, his eyes going wide. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, his mouth pulling into a smile. “Okay, yeah, hold on — just stay there.”

He abruptly disappeared deeper into the house, leaving Dani alone. She breathed slowly, rubbing at her eyes again to vanish any unfallen tears before wrapping her arms around her stomach, listening to Eddie’s footsteps vibrating through the house, down and then back up some stairs. He returned with a triumphant grin, and the sigh of relief that escaped Dani at the sight of her box in Eddie’s hands seemed to make her lungs rattle. She took the box in her grasp and pressed it close to her chest, as if she could tuck it under her ribs. Dani sniffed as she looked down at it, and slowly exhaled. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, like she hadn’t just spent the last half hour spiraling. 

Eddie’s grin slowly fell, chagrin replacing his triumph. “I’m sorry,” he said, burying his hands in his grey pantsuit, “I didn’t know what to do with it, or where to put it. So I put it in the basement.”

Dani nodded absently. The basement. Right. Nine feet below the earth, like a coffin. 

“I really am sorry,” he repeated, softer this time, a hand falling to her waist. 

“I know,” she said, and finally met his eyes, giving him a weak smile. “It’s okay.”

He grinned, warm, and said, “I do have good news, though, to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nodded, gestured behind him, and said, “I got us some dinner too.” Dani glanced over his shoulder where on the side table next to her bag sat a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. Eddie’s hand moved from her waist to her upper arm, gently rubbing it. “Why don’t you put that away, and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

At Dani’s silent nod, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and bounded towards the kitchen with the pizza and wine in hand, but not without another grin. She barely managed to send one back, her mouth twitching at the attempt. She returned her eyes back to the box in her arms, the weight of it suddenly heavier as the exhaustion from her episode finally hit her. Dani didn’t know what to do with it now. There was no other place in the entire house she trusted. Not even her old childhood bedroom; the risk of it falling into her mother’s hands was out of the question. The glove compartment of her car wasn’t totally ideal, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving it on the backseat floor or shoving it away deep in the trunk. It would have to do for now. 

Dani returned to the kitchen where Eddie had shed his suit jacket and tie, his sleeves rolled up as he set the kitchen table with plates and wine glasses. He grinned at her. “Here we go," he said, opening the pizza box with a flourish to reveal a Hawaiian pizza. 

She hesitated for a moment. At the risk of disappointing him with the reminder that a simple veggie pizza was her favorite and that the very notion of pineapple on pizza was an affront to the senses, she offered him a weak grin. "Thanks." She cocked her head at the table, and asked, “What’s the occasion?” 

Eddie’s grin widened. “I may have gotten a little raise.”

“What?” Dani's face relaxed into a smile. “But didn’t you just recently start?”

“Yeah, I know! But they’ve apparently been really liking what I’ve been doing, and —” he paused, seemingly for dramatic effect as his eyes glinted “ — I got an in with Councilman Alan Fields.”

Dani’s eyes widened. “Eddie, that’s amazing,” she said, grasping his arm. 

“I know it’s not much for now and I still have a long way to go yet, but — “

“It’s a start,” Dani finished for him, cupping his chin. “I’m proud of you. I think this does call for some wine.”

He grinned bashfully as she dropped her hand and started towards the counter, pulling at a stubborn drawer to retrieve a corkscrew as Eddie began piling their plates with pizza. “It is a start, isn’t it. Felt like a long time coming too,” he said from behind her, as Dani huffed at the drawer, jiggling it by the handle, “And step one is dinner with Fields and his wife.”

The handle popped off at a strong tug. She blinked down at it, and then, as if now absorbing what Eddie said, she looked back at him, bewildered. “Dinner?”

“Yep, seven o’clock on Friday.”

Dani blinked at him, her stomach turning sour. “The both of us?”

“Yes,” he said, chuckling, his grin indulgent. “We have to start impressing Fields somehow. He has influence all over town, and if I get him on my side then — “ his grin turned smug “ — You may be looking at a future city councilman.”

Dani chuckled breathlessly, her cheeks aching. “That’s great,” she managed to say. 

She didn’t want to ruin this moment, not when it seemed like all of Eddie’s dreams were coming true, handed to him on a silver platter. Dani could see it happening now; she knew that on Friday, she would push down all her exhaustion from a week of teaching, and herding around twelve year olds, and the pulse of anxiety under her skin. She would put on her best dress and style her hair flawlessly, but just enough to seem modest, and play the part of the perfect golden girl turned perfect fiancée. Dani would smile too much and not enough, and Eddie would hold her hand for all the world to see the ring on her finger as if to say, “Here, world. Here we are, the golden couple.” She felt a chill settle over her skin just thinking about it, and wished desperately to feel anything else, wished that Eddie had just asked her instead of — 

“What happened there?” Eddie’s eyes darted towards her hand, his brow furrowing, gesturing towards the drawer handle she held in a tight fist. 

“Oh, um,” she chuckled again, helplessly holding up the handle for him to see, “It broke.”

He snorted. “Make that one more thing for the repair list," he said, and let out a long sigh. A hand at the base of her spine and he gently guided Dani to the table to sit as he took care of it. 

That should’ve been the end of it, the end of the conversation as wine was finally poured and the kitchen radio switched on low as they sat down to eat. She hoped for it — to be given the space to breathe in between sips of wine and let her shoulders sink against the back of her chair, letting her frustrations and the exhaustion from her day to just sink away. Just for a little bit, just long enough for her to let her mask slip until she had to once again pull on the ropes to part the stage curtains open. But Eddie insisted on clinking their glasses together, a curious glint in his eyes as he sipped from his wine. 

“I was thinking,” he started, setting his glass down. A ball of lead sank in Dani’s stomach.

“Yeah?” She took another heady sip. 

“With just a little more money coming in, we could finally afford to start fixing up the place. Like, actually fixing it,” he said, leaning forward on the table, “And just with everything seeming to come together, you could take the lead on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted more time for some hobbies? This is a great opportunity to start. Add a splash of color to the place.”

Dani blinked at him. There wasn’t something right, with the way he was looking at her so expectantly, so pleased with himself. “I don’t have the time for that, Eddie,” she reiterated. 

“Well, obviously,” he said, grinning boyishly, “Not until after you stop working at least.”

Dani stared, her breath shallow, her nails digging into her palms in her lap. Remnants of the indignant fire from earlier, the rush of panic, swelled within her. “I’m not quitting my job, Eddie,” she said, her back ramrod straight. 

He frowned. “Wasn’t that part of the plan?”

“No.”

Eddie leaned back, his expression puzzled, and said, “Oh, I thought we agreed — “

“We didn’t,” she said with more bite than she expected. More than Eddie expected. His eyes went slightly wide, and he at least had the decency to look abashed, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just thought — the other day you were saying you weren’t looking forward to the parent-teacher conference. I thought it could be good for you, good for us. Especially when — ”

“Dealing with parents is one thing. Kids are another,” she said, the fire quickly leaving her. She sighed. “I love my job. I love my kids. I love how I’m able to help shape their minds and their futures. I don’t want to give that up.”

Not for anything, she didn't say out loud, Not even you.

Leaning his elbows back on the table, Eddie smiled slowly at her, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. A look crossed his face, something between hopeful and knowing. It did nothing to help the whirlpool of dread twisting Dani’s stomach, making her feel sick. “Maybe in the future. Just think about it?”

Dani could do nothing but stare at him. It was like what she said went into one ear and out the other, like it was already written in stone. The next step in fulfilling his dreams, and Dani was just along for the ride, molded and shaped to his expectations. Dani often wondered how strange it was to care for someone so much who loved merely a shadow of her. 

Dani took another sip of her wine, her gaze fixed on her mostly untouched pizza, appetite gone. She should stand her ground, dig her heels in. Set the record straight. Instead, she reset her mask, pulled the rope to part the stage curtains, and tied the other end around her neck. She nodded. 

His face brightened into a smile. Seemingly pleased with the outcome of his wishes coming true, he returned to his pizza. Dani followed suit, forcing down the food, feeling like she could choke on it. 

“In other good news,” Eddie said around bites, his expression vaguely curious, “Did you hear who moved back into town recently?”

“I did,” she said, nodding, not meeting his eyes. “Your mom mention it?”

“Yeah. You must be happy about that.”

Dani didn’t know how to respond to that. Not with the way her skin felt jittery at even the thought of being in the same room as Jamie, and certainly not with the tension just barely underlying Eddie’s voice. Her eyes darted up, catching him staring at her with an expression that to anyone else would seem as passing curiosity, but to Dani, was careful scrutiny. A part of her couldn’t truly fault him for it, after all he had borne witness to the aftermath of it all. But the other part of Dani, the part that never knew how to stop missing Jamie, tensed her shoulders and clenched her teeth, nodding as her eyes darted away and she sipped her wine. 

“I am,” she said, the words surprisingly feeling almost true. “I saw her earlier today, actually. At the school.”

He frowned. “At school?”

“Mikey’s one of my students,” she said. Eddie blinked at her, his expression mystified. “Jamie’s little brother?”

“Oh,” he said, and chuckled. “Wow. Time flies, huh? Still remember him when he was just a baby. Is he anything like how Jamie was? Causing any trouble?”

Dani tensed. “Jamie was a good kid.”

Eddie gave her a look. “Really?”

She fought back a frown, exhaustion settling deeper into her bones. “Anyway, Mikey’s a good kid,” she continued, “Really smart. Quiet. Shy.”

“Is that even possible? A shy Taylor?”

Dani shot him a glare. He backed down with a chuckle and his hands raised. “All right, I’ll take your word for it.”

It was a little easier, after that. Less like the walls of the kitchen were closing in on her, and more like she could finally breathe as Eddie moved on from conversation topics that left her feeling like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. They talked about their work day instead; how Eddie came to meet Alan Fields, one of the more prominent councilmen in town, and Dani offered anecdotes of her own, the funny things kids said, and how good they’d been. She didn’t mention the car. Not yet. She briefly entertained the idea that she could somehow sneak the car over to the mechanic without Eddie knowing, but realized she wouldn’t know how to explain away the hundreds of dollars missing from the bank, spent on repairing it.  

Dinner flew by fast. Dani washed down the rest of her pizza with another glass of wine. She even managed to laugh with Eddie when she hiccuped after the last sip. He grinned fondly at her, as she gathered their dishes and brought them to the sink to clean them. With her hands sudsy, the two glasses of wine had loosened her shoulders just enough to relax and sway to the radio, set to some oldies station. It took her a moment, as she rinsed a plate while listening to a smooth voice croon, to remember her plight from earlier. The sheer fear and desperation, looking for her box of Jamie’s things. The reason why she went searching in the first place. Just as Dani felt her face fall, hands wrapped around her waist. 

“Leave that,” Eddie said, pressing his temple against her own, his body enveloping her from behind. 

She swallowed hard, managing to refrain from tensing in his arms. “They’re not going to clean themselves,” she said, proud at how steady she kept her voice. 

Eddie began to sway them both along to the music, and said, “They can be done in the morning.” He pressed a telling kiss just below her ear. 

Dani shivered, but for all the wrong reasons. She felt Eddie grin against her skin, chuckling. Distantly, Dani wondered if he could also hear her heart pounding, the blood rushing through her ears. The way her body wanted to curl away from him and up into herself. If she were to glance down at the silver tap, she’d see their distorted forms, pulled in all the wrong directions as they gently swayed. 

“Eddie…” she stumbled out. 

“Come on, leave it,” he insisted, pressing another kiss to her shoulder, “I know I upset you today. I want to make it up to you.”

She could say no, like she’d done before. Citing exhaustion, sleepiness, a headache. She could say she felt like she was slowly being digested within these walls, until inevitably, all that would remain would be the shadow Eddie so loved. 

Would he still love her then? When all that would be left of her to hold would be a shell, a ghost of a person? Would he care? Would Jamie?

The thought was so abrupt and cutting, Dani pressed her eyes shut and bit hard at her lip, her hands stilling under the running water as a dull ache spread across her chest. 

Clenching her teeth painfully, and feeling the skin of her cheeks flush in a fit of indignation, Dani swept the thought away. His arms were warm around her, safe and strong as they’d always been. He still smelt of the same sharp cologne she had gifted him last year. She could want this, she thought faintly. This could be her, if she just tucked away everything else. The perfect loving wife. The girl next door turned childhood best friend turned childhood sweetheart. She wanted this, didn’t she? All those years ago, heartbroken and hollowed out, when she finally said yes, and then never stopped.

Somehow, it didn’t burst out of her. Not when Eddie pressed another soft kiss to the crook of her neck. Not when she turned off the tap and spun in his arms to rake her wet hands through his hair, smiling weakly into a kiss. 

Dani could want this. She could be this. 

 --

The arm slung across her waist felt like an anvil. Holding her down into the too soft sheets and bedding until it felt like she was sinking right into it. There was a heaviness to Dani’s body that she couldn’t shake. She hadn’t moved in over an hour. An hour and thirty seven minutes to be exact. She knew. She counted, her eyes unmoving from her bedside alarm clock as she lay on her back, slowly coming back to her body, still as stone, watching the red numbers flicker minute by minute until it read 12:03am. 

The arm moved, shifting. Dani held her breath as she felt the bed gently shake from the twisting movements next to her. And then it pulled away, the arm lifting from her waist to disappear into the darkness next to her like a phantom. She exhaled slowly, and swallowed hard past the thickness in her throat. 

Dani blinked. 12:04am. 

Slowly, she finally turned away from the alarm clock, her neck screaming at her from holding the position for so long. She winced and slowly sat up, holding the sheets up to her chest. The air was cold against the skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. Dani welcomed it, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on them, her body feeling overheated as if a fever was expelling some sickness from her. 

The bed shifted again along with the sound of a soft sigh. Dani raised her head at the motion and finally turned her gaze to the sleeping form on her left where Eddie lay flat on his stomach, his head twisted away from her, his torso rising and falling so slowly she’d almost think he wasn’t breathing at all. Dani knew, if there was any more light in the room beyond the fair trails of moonlight, she would find a star map of beauty marks across his skin. Any other person, any other woman who deeply loved their fiancé would slide closer, pressing the length of their worn and satisfied body next to Eddie’s and would trace those star maps with the tip of their finger. Instead, Dani stared at him, drained and heavy. 

He always slept so deeply after, like all the weight of his love and desire condensed into a single point, taking and taking from her, until he was full and sated, collapsing half on top of her. He’d lay there as his breaths would eventually even out and deepen, slowly pulling away, so sure, so confident that Dani felt the same. There were some occasions Dani could force herself to, taking it for herself in a way that always left him surprised, wanting so much to morph herself into this mask that she’d almost convince herself at the height of it. But, it was an occurrence that was rarer than being struck by lightning, and she’d always feel so empty afterwards. And then there were nights like this — grateful to the dark shadows to conceal her. Grateful that he never looked her in the eye and asked. 

Dani finally pulled away from the bed, silently leaving the too warm sheets, shivering in the dark. She quickly pulled on nearby clothes — a nightgown and a thin robe — and quietly made her way out of the room, stepping over loose floorboards. She made her way downstairs, her fingers skimming the walls to guide her way in the dark, listening to the house creak and groan, settling like a weary creature. She padded her way through to the kitchen, the floor cool beneath her feet, making a beeline to where they left the bottle of wine on the counter. 

Grabbing the bottle in a white-knuckled fist, pulling out the cork and taking a long swig. The house maneuvered her through the shadows, stumbling lightly in the dark, and all Dani could do was watch her own actions, divorced from her own perspective. Watch as she retrieved her keys from the side table and made her way to the garage, generously sipping at wine. When there was nothing left in the bottle, she left it on the floor near the garage entrance to open the passenger door of her car and fall heavily inside, closing it shut just a little too hard in the overbearing silence of the night. 

It was cold, but comforting inside. The air felt different in the cabin. Thinner, dustier, lived in and familiar. For a moment, she rested her head against the headrest and let her eyes slip shut, enjoying the cold and the quiet. She opened her eyes and with a sigh, she reached over to open the glove compartment, carefully pulling out the wooden box to rest on the passenger seat.

Slowly lifting it open, she stared at the contents inside, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. The fear she had felt earlier today had left its residue on her, like chalk dust. It pressed hard against her chest and behind her eyes until they burned as she skimmed her hands over the faded t-shirt. Expelling a trembling exhale, Dani carefully dug through the contents until she unearthed the cassette tape and turned it over in her lap. It appeared physically undamaged, though nothing could be said to what dust and age had done to it over time. Dani didn’t even remember what songs Jamie had cultivated for her, just the distant memory of side A being songs she chose to Dani’s tastes, and side B being more to her own. 

There was only one way to listen to it now. Even with Dani’s confidence of Eddie’s deep slumber and the thickness of the walls of the house, there was still a part of her anxious of the thought of Eddie waking up to find her delving through childhood memories as if shamefully flipping through a dirty magazine. Or worse, thinking she was running away in the dead of night. 

The thought made her pause. It’d be so simple. To just pack a bag, and take off, speeding her way out of town and leaving everything behind to see the world like any small town youth dreamed of doing. It sounded so easy, and so astronomically unthinkable. 

Shaking it off, Dani tensed her shoulders and twisted the engine on, revving it to life. It shuddered and groaned, but remained on with no tell-tale sign of smoke or questionable smells. Dani exhaled slowly, and fiddled with the tape again before finally pushing it in the player and pressed rewind for good measure. She listened to it wind up and finally click to a stop, the sound unusually loud in the silent cabin, ominous and thrilling. 

She swallowed hard and licked her lips, pressing play. 

The sound of layered voices in harmony with sparse melodious instruments filled the cabin, tinny and crackling through the old stereo and the age of the tape. Her mouth dropped open, her breath trapped in her chest. Gradually, Dani sank back into the seat as a voice joined in, a shiver creeping down her spine. Dani couldn’t count the years she hadn’t heard this song, it almost felt like hearing it all over again for the first time, the memory of it crashing into her like a wave. 

Dani curled up on herself, twisting just enough in the seat to pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around her legs, a thickness growing in her throat, the pressure building behind her eyes. She bit her lip hard to fight it off, desperately willing it away — the pain borne of being stripped away down to that old exposed nerve. Prodded at and scarred. A wound opened and healed over so many times, it was a wonder Dani remained so recognizable. 

But even as the first song ended and a familiar sparse guitar filled the car, the pain of her teeth pressed against her lip and her nails digging into her palm couldn’t stop the tears spilling down her cheeks. Dani trembled as she exhaled deeply, her breath wobbling, curling further into the seat and resting her head against the crackling leather. 

Five more minutes, she told herself. Five more minutes, and then she’d seal it all away again. She had managed to live with everything else now for years, she could manage another couple more. Dani had grown used to it. Tucking away the memories and the tears, the lost pieces — all for something that didn’t exist anymore.

 --

Parent teacher conferences certainly weren't the highlight of Dani's school year. She was good with kids. Not parents. Especially not parents who she grew up with, and who she remembered from when they attended this very same school together. Some of them had grown up a bit since then, but only some. Most still interacted with her as if talking to a cardboard cut out person, all plastic smiles and tacit social acceptance that they would never speak of times past.

It was rare that anyone new came to live in town at all. Not unless they used North Liberty as a sleeper suburb for the factory plant a good hour drive southeast. Most people who lived here did so all their lives. Just like their parents had. And their parents before them. And even those who tried to venture away somehow found themselves wending back. Like a labyrinth with no exits. Like a glue trap that held one fast by the ankles.

Dani was using the edge of a pen to scrape away some glue that one of her students had gotten onto their desk during the day. The dried glue came away in gouges. She could have left it for the janitor, but he had enough on his plate and she had time before the next set of parents walked into her classroom.

Honestly, this was the last time she allowed glue in class. It would join glitter on the 'banned for life' list.

There was a polite rap of knuckles on the open door behind her.

Without looking up, Dani said, "Come in!" and gave the glob of glue a few last scrapes with the pen before giving up and turning around with a sigh. "Sorry about that, I was just -"

She froze. Jamie was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching silently. She still wore her work clothes, but she had left her jacket behind, and the sleeves of her jumpsuit were rolled up so that the definition of her bare arms was stark against the canvas material.

"I - uh -" Dani used the pen to gesture weakly towards the student's desk. "There was a glue disaster."

Jamie tilted her head and said, "Acetone."

Dani blinked. "What?"

"You should use acetone," said Jamie. "Take it right off. No elbow grease required."

"Oh. Right. And I'd - I'd get that where?"

In answer, Jamie pushed herself away from the door frame and made her way through the maze of desks until she stood before her. Dani watched her approach with some alarm, not knowing what was coming. And to think she used to know Jamie so well she could tell what she was thinking just from the barest crease of her eyes.

Jamie stopped and made a small gesture with her hand. "Let me see your fingers."

Completely befuddled, Dani set down the pen and lifted both hands for inspection. Jamie cocked her head and nodded as though that confirmed everything.

"Looks like you've got the solution at home already," Jamie said, meeting her gaze with a soft smile. "Nail polish remover. I'm talking about nail polish remover."

Dani glanced down at her hands. She normally didn't bother painting her nails; it was only a matter of time until she chewed them to bits again. Yesterday evening however she had idly applied a few coats of polish to her nails while sitting with Eddie on the couch, the television screen flickering and sending shadows dancing along the walls.

Curling her fingers against her palms, Dani made a stiff gesture towards her own desk at the head of the classroom. "Of course. Thanks. Shall we -?"

Jamie went without further comment. She had slouched in the chair opposite Dani's desk while Dani lowered herself carefully into her own seat.

"Right. So," said Jamie, her leg bouncing restlessly. "Never done one of these before. What're we talking about exactly?"

Dani pulled a file towards her from across the desk. "We're here to talk about Mikey. His progress. How he's doing. Et cetera."

Jamie nodded. Her gaze roved across the classroom, wandering here and there. She lingered upon the various fixtures of the room in bored contemplation. "You reckon he's settling in all right?"

Dani shrugged. "Better than you did."

A rueful grin was Jamie's reply. "Well, that's not very hard, is it?"

Dani smiled back at her. "No." She opened the folder and quickly flipped through a few pages. "There haven't been any incidents that stand out to me so far. Regarding him fitting in, I mean. Nobody's picked on him or anything, is what I'm saying."

Jamie nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"He's a good kid," Dani said.

"Smarter than I'll ever be."

"Now, I didn't say that."

"True though," Jamie said with self-deprecating flair. “What about his grades?"

Dani plucked at the corner of a page, lifting it up so she could see the paper beneath. "Exemplary, to be honest. His class participation is a bit lacking, but otherwise he's gotten nothing but top marks so far."

"Need me to talk to him about speaking up more in class?"

Dani shook her head and let the page fall back down. "No. Not really. I think that will come in time as he grows more comfortable."

"Right." Jamie was looking directly at her now, and Dani almost wished she would go back to studying the room's contents instead. "Anything else?"

It was difficult not to fidget beneath the weight of Jamie's gaze. Dani found herself shuffling a few of the papers nervously, and forced her hands to go still. "There is one thing, actually," Dani said.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said warily.

"It's not - It's not like that," said Dani and she leaned forward in her seat, resting her weight upon her forearms. "I was actually wanting to talk to you about the possibility of Mikey attending some special math courses."

Jamie's brow furrowed. "Why? I thought you just said his grades were fine? Top marks, even."

"No, I'm -" Dani cleared her throat to collect herself somewhat before continuing. "I'm talking about advanced courses. He seems to like math. A lot, actually. And I'd like to encourage that, rather than risk him becoming bored with things he's already mastered."

If anything, Jamie seemed taken aback by this news, sitting upright. "Will that be a lot more work for him?" she asked slowly.

Dani shook her head. "The class is after school. Held in the library for an extra hour. But I won't be giving him homework for regular math, so it should all come out in the wash."

"Huh." Jamie blinked and sat back further in her seat. "All right, then. I'll have a chat with him tonight. See what he thinks."

"Great," Dani said, and her own smile felt plasticky this time.

"If he doesn't want to do it, I won't force him," said Jamie.

"That's okay. He doesn't have to, if he doesn't want to."

"All right."

Silence settled over them. Dani was staring, fingers tracing the sharp edge of the folder, while Jamie waited.

"That it?" Jamie asked after the seconds had ticked by with neither of them speaking.

Startled by the abruptness of her voice, Dani closed the folder. "Yeah. Yeah, that's - that's it!"

Jamie gave her an odd look, clearly waiting for her to say something, but Dani's mouth was dry, and she had another set of parents coming in fifteen minutes, and she hadn't expected this to go so fast, and -

"Guess I'll be off, then." Jamie stood and jammed her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit, while Dani pushed back her own chair to rise to her feet as well.

"Of course. Have a -" Dani gestured awkwardly towards the exit. "Have a good rest of your day."

“See you around.” 

Jamie was at the door before Dani finally worked up the courage to blurt out, “Do you -? Do you want to grab a coffee sometime? With me?”

Jamie paused and turned in the doorway. "You Yanks and your coffee." Jamie shook her head but she was smiling. "Sure, but I work everyday except Sunday."

"That's fine,” Dani said, hand on the desk as if to ground herself. “We can meet Sunday morning?"

"Don't you have church?"

"They'll be fine without me for one service. Besides, I -” Dani said, “- I want to catch up.” 

Jamie’s smile flickered briefly, and when it returned she appeared reserved, as though she had taken a step further away. In the end all she said was, “Sounds like a plan. Ten?”

Dani nodded. “Ten’s great.”

With one final backward glance, Jamie left. It was as though all the air rushed back into the room in her absence. As though Dani could finally breathe properly again. She dropped back down into her seat, which creaked beneath her weight, feeling dazed, a faint buzzing beneath her skin. 

Footsteps down the hall, and Dani’s head jerked. “Oh! You’re early!” she said, rising to her feet and extending her hand to the latest set of parents. All plastic smiles again and false pleasantries. “Horace. Clara. How nice to see you. Please, sit.” 

 --

Dani arrived at the cafe late. She had parked her car further along down a side lane in town while running a quick errand at the local pharmacy. The car had been acting up on the drive in and she didn't want to risk it breaking down again along the way. So, she turned over her wrist to check her watch, and walked as briskly as she could without outright jogging. By the time she arrived at the cafe, she was slightly out of breath and raking her fingers through her hair to fix how windswept she felt.

She paused at the entrance to drop a hand into her bag just to check that she still had her emergency inhaler. When she had assured herself that it was there, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The cafe was cooler than the air outside. As the door slowly creaked shut behind her, Dani turned her head, perusing the empty tables. Most people at this time of day would be at their local church, and it had felt odd even running chores with so few others on the street. Yet sure enough, Jamie was seated in the far corner at a table with a little handwritten reserved placard atop it. Shrugging at the strap of her handbag, Dani steadied her breathing and walked over.

"Sorry," said Dani. "Car troubles. Again."

Jamie remained in her seat as Dani sat across from her. "No problem," she said. "Did you get the seal fixed?"

Dani nodded and dropped her bag onto one of the spare seats. "Yeah. I did. It's something new now."

"Hmm," said Jamie, looking thoughtful. Then, she shrugged and handed over one of the menus on the table. 

"Recommend anything here, to be honest. Can't go wrong with Owen's food. Trust me."

Dani took the menu, hesitating when she heard a voice call out from the kitchens in a pleasant but surprising English accent, "I heard that!"

Jamie lifted her voice, but kept her gaze fixed on her own menu. "No, you didn't! And stop eavesdropping!"

A man stuck his head through a window cut in the wall between the kitchen and the main room. His moustache twitched in a tell-tale smile, and his dark eyes gleamed with a mischievous light behind thick spectacles. "You know I never pass up the opportunity to bask in praise."

"I'm fresh out of praises today," said Jamie, aiming a pointed glower at him over the top of her menu.

"Oh, forgive me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Interrupting your date, am I?"

"Hardly," Jamie replied dryly.

Dani's shoulders stiffened. She jerked the menu up slightly higher, hoping to hide the widening of her eyes.

Jamie noticed. Of course, Jamie noticed. “He’s joking,” Jamie said, then lifted her voice so he could hear. “And being a pillock about it, too!”

Behind her, Dani could hear a chuckle, and then the sound of fading footsteps as he — Owen, presumably — went back to puttering around in the kitchen.

Dani cleared her throat. "I know that." When Jamie gave her a questioning glance, Dani continued, "That he was joking. I know."

It was a godsend that there were no other patrons, otherwise Dani might have panicked at the mere insinuation that she was — but, there was no one to listen in. Just a joke. Nothing she needed to worry about.

Those footsteps had returned, and Owen stood beside their table, tucking a pen behind his ear. His striped apron was immaculate, and his sleeves rolled up just below the elbow, but there was a streak of flour at his jawline from where his white-smudged fingertips had brushed. "Tell me," he said, "What can I get you ladies this fine morning?"

Jamie handed over the menu to him. "A pot of English breakfast and poached eggs on toast for me, thanks."

“A classic,” he murmured with an appreciative nod, then turned his attention to Dani, his expression expectant. 

"The omelette and a coffee, please," Dani said.

Owen took her menu as well. "What kind of coffee?"

"Uh -" Dani said eloquently. "The kind with beans in it?"

"Drip coffee?"

"Yes?" she said with a wince at her own ignorance.

"Thank god," Owen sounded relieved. "My barista is at church and I have no idea how to operate that thing." He gestured with the menus towards a gleaming brushed chrome coffee machine that came with its own conical grinder filled with fresh beans. Then he lifted the menus to the side of his mouth and whispered as though the machine might be listening to them, "I think it's sentient. And I know it hates me."

Dani bit at her lower lip to keep a snort of laughter at bay. Owen gave her a parting wink, then strode off towards the kitchens to put together their order. When she turned in her seat, it was to find Jamie watching her with a fond smile that made Dani’s breath catch in her throat. Owen returning with their drinks gave Dani the opportunity to regroup. She straightened in her seat and thanked him with a smile.

"So." Dani reached for the milk and sugar that came with both their drinks. "What brought you back?"

"Right. Straight to it, then."

"I'm - I didn't -"

"No, no," Jamie shook her head. She poured a bit of tea into her cup, only to set the pot back down when the colour wasn't dark enough for her liking. "You know me. Direct is how I prefer it."

Dani held the mug of coffee between her hands despite the burn through a layer of porcelain. "It's just - ten years is a long time to suddenly make a reappearance."

"Maybe I like the attention," Jamie drawled.

Dani gave her a look.

Making a face, Jamie poured herself a cup of tea. "Or maybe not."

She let the silence stretch between them as Jamie poured a splash of milk into her cup. Jamie sipped at her tea and for a long moment said nothing. Then she shrugged, "Dunno. Seemed like a good idea. A fresh start." She gave a rueful huff of laughter. "Must've been what Nan felt like when she first brought me here. A nothing place in the middle of nowhere. Clean slate. All that bullshit."

Dani's thumb traced the handle of the cup. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, building up the courage to admit, "It's good to see you again."

"Could've fooled me," said Jamie, but she was smirking. 

Dani winced. "Sorry." 

"S'alright. I don't blame you." Jamie set down her cup to let the tea cool. "It's good to see you, too."

Something in Dani's chest unspooled upon hearing that. Like finally breathing in a lungful of air after years of a hand around her throat. She could feel her shoulders relax, the tension running out like a thread pulled from the ragged edge of a sweater.

"And how're you?" Jamie asked. "Got that teaching job, like you always wanted. Well done."

Dani's face softened into a smile. "Thanks."

"How long have you been teaching at the school?"

"About three years now."

"Don't know how you have the patience." Jamie leaned her elbows on the table. "Some days I feel mad just having to deal with one. Meanwhile, you've got a whole classroom of the little buggers."

Dani laughed. "You grow to love them. Even the worst ones."

Jamie scoffed. "Pull the other one."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah?" said Jamie, her eyes glinting as she grinned. "Which was the worst you've ever had?"

"Oh, my god," Dani lowered her voice and began the tale of the Willoughby boy in her second year of teaching. By the time she was done, Jamie's expression was a mixture of horrified and amused.

"I would've killed him," Jamie said. "And the world would’ve better off without a possessed devil child."

"And risk the wrath of old lady Willoughby? No, thank you." Dani lifted her mug of coffee for a sip. "But he honestly wasn't that bad all the time. Just...most of the time."

"Have you ever seen the kid step inside a church?" Jamie asked.

Dani shook her head. "Nope."

Jamie made a gesture with her hand as though that proved her point.

“Oh, like you were the best behaved child on the planet.”

“Fuck no. Nan was a saint in retrospect.” Then Jamie added, “An absolute bitch, too. But still.”

Owen reappeared before Dani could reply, and he placed two dishes down on the table in front of them. Dani thanked him, while Jamie murmured a belated "Cheers, mate," before picking up her cutlery.

"If you need anything else," he said, "I'll be the one in the back, singing along to the radio before the rest of my staff can return and tell me how off-key I sound. Bon appetit."

Shortly after he left, Dani could indeed hear a radio being turned up in the other room. Jamie shook her head but did nothing to hide her smile.

"I can see why this place is so popular," Dani said, utensils in hand so she could dig into her own meal. "New faces don't tend to do that well here."

"Food's not shite either," Jamie said.

Mouth full, Dani made an affirmative noise and nodded her agreement.

"So, did you ever make it out of state like you always wanted?" Jamie asked, gesturing with her knife while she spoke. "See the world? Backpack across Europe?"

Dani's chewing slowed. After swallowing, she shook her head. "Not really, no. I ended up attending the University of Iowa, and — well, I guess things just went from there. Came back home. Got a job."

"All the way to Iowa City? The bustling metropolis itself."

"I'd still like to," said Dani. "Travel, I mean. I'm not sure about the backpacking part anymore. Maybe a rental car instead."

"Fancy," Jamie said. "Not missing out on much, really. At least, not the part of Europe that's the UK."

"I thought you never made it to the continent?"

"Yeah, that's right." Jamie paused to drink some more tea. "Still know it's better than England, though."

"Your patriotism is as strong as ever, I see," Dani said with a grin.

"Must be all the time I've spent here." Jamie winked at her and Dani laughed softly. "Went back for a few years when I turned eighteen," Jamie continued. "Saw my older brother and my dad."

Hearing that, Dani's knife and fork went still against the plate. Her eyes darted up, but Jamie was focused on cutting up her own food. "And how'd that go?" Dani asked carefully.

"Badly," said Jamie, and there wasn't the hint of a smile now. "Dad was disinterested. Denny and I almost killed each other. I ran off to live in East London. Had a bit of a brush up with Her Majesty's finest swineherd. Got my act together. Got Mikey back. Came here."

Jamie's hands were tight around her cutlery, and her voice was clipped. Dani watched her, knowing there was more to that story than Jamie would tell. Not today, at least.

"Sounds like fun," said Dani, spearing a bit of omelette on her fork and lifting it to her mouth for a bite.

"About as fun as your story, I reckon," Jamie said. "Did Ed go to the same university, too?"

It felt like some sort of trap. A trick question. As though Jamie already knew the answer and was asking only to make a point. Dani nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

"How many times did he ask you to marry him before you finally caved?"

Dani shot her an exasperated look. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?"

Dani took a sip of coffee to avoid answering for as long as possible. After a lengthy pause she muttered around the lip of the cup, "Five times."

"That all? Huh."

“Most of them don’t count,” Dani insisted. “We were kids.”

“Oh, I remember,” said Jamie, and her tone gentled. “And things are good?”

“Yeah. Great,” said Dani, setting down her coffee so she could pick at her food rather than meet Jamie’s piercing gaze. “Perfect. Things are perfect.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing. Jamie, who hated being lied to. Jamie, who was as keen-nosed for the truth as a sleuthhound with the scent of blood. Dani felt a thrill of anticipation race up her spine, and she readied herself for whatever pointed question Jamie would lob in her direction with surgical precision.

In the end all Jamie said was, “Judy must’ve been over the moon. She finally gets that daughter she always wanted.” 

Dani didn't know what to say to that. She picked at her food, then hummed and said, "Yeah. Though we basically were that for years, until -"

Across the table, Jamie went stock still. When Dani glanced up at her, Jamie's expression was wary, as if waiting for an incoming blow.

Dani set down her cutlery against the edge of her plate with a clink of metal against earthenware. "Do you know how I found out that you'd gone?" she asked quietly, and didn't wait for an answer. "I came over to your house, and your neighbor told me."

She didn't tell Jamie about how she had knocked at the door, about how she had sat around for nearly an hour, thinking that Jamie would be back any moment, about how the neighbor had found her there. ‘Didn't you hear? Oh, geeze. I don't know how to break it to you kid, but -’

Now, Jamie sat across from her, refusing to meet her eye, pretending to be engrossed with pouring out the last dregs of loose leaf tea from the pot. When it became clear that Dani wasn't going to throw her a bone — not this time, not about this — Jamie said stiffly, "Wasn't like I was given much time to say my goodbyes. Child protection services can move pretty quick, when they want to. Barely had time to pack my bags, truth be told."

Dani opened her mouth to speak, but a bell chimed behind them, and her head turned. Someone had entered the cafe and was walking into the kitchen with smiles and apologies to Owen for being late. More people followed, trickling in from the street, hoping for a fortifying brunch after the Sunday service. It wouldn't be long until the tables filled up. Someone recognised Dani and waved at her. She prayed her smile in return didn't resemble a grimace.

"Excuse me," Jamie murmured, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet.

Dani blinked and turned back to face her. "Oh. Where -?"

"Won't be a moment. Just going to the loo."

She half expected Jamie to not return. Maybe she would make a run for it. Scramble out a rear window and sprint all the way home. Dani pushed her plate further away, appetite gone.

True to her word however, Jamie returned not a few minutes later, but she did not sit back down. "C'mon," she said. "Let's get some fresh air."

Dani stood. She slung her bag over one shoulder and opened it to pull out her wallet.

Jamie waved her away. "No need for that."

"But we need to pay," Dani said, pointing to the till, where a young man was taking orders.

"Already handled," said Jamie. She jerked her head towards the exit, where a line was beginning to form.

Hesitant, Dani stuffed her wallet back into her handbag. As they left, a few others took notice and tried to strike up a conversation. There were remarks about how they noticed her missing at church, and they’d wondered if she had been feeling ill. Dani shook her head and smiled and inched her way out of the cafe without being roped into another cup of coffee. Though it was a narrow escape. 

When they had successfully managed to extricate themselves and were wandering down the street, Dani murmured, "Thank you for breakfast."

"No problem," said Jamie. "Where are you parked?"

Dani gestured further up the street. "Pretty far, actually. About ten minutes that way."

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah, but I want to." Jamie shot her a roguish grin. "Not much else to do on my Sundays except hang out with the kid. And you know how siblings are. We get on each others' nerves at the drop of a hat."

"You could've brought him along," Dani said. "He didn't have to stay at home alone."

Jamie shrugged. "He likes it. Means he gets to watch reruns while I'm gone."

"Quite the Wonder Woman fan, I saw."

"Christ," said Jamie, rolling her eyes. "And — what's the one called? Star Hike? Star Something?"

"Star Trek?"

"Whatever. He won't shut up about it. At least Lynda Carter is easy on the eyes."

Dani had to tuck her thumbs into her fists and refrain from agreeing. She steered the topic towards safer waters, and Jamie seemed all too happy to talk about Mikey. They walked, taking their time. And something seethed in Dani's stomach the more they avoided talking about anything of substance. As if they could just pretend everything was fine. It galled, and every word seemed to turn a key like loading a spring, coiling it taut.

By the time they arrived at her car — parked in a quiet side alley beside the pharmacy, tucked away from the main street  — Dani already gripped her keys in her fist. She offered Jamie a tight smile, "I'll see you later, then."

And the worst part was, Jamie was unreadable again. Just as she had been the whole walk. She leaned her shoulder against the brick cladding of the pharmacy's outer wall and nodded. "'Course," she said, but remained standing there, watching.

For a moment Dani met her gaze, silently daring her to say something — anything, so long as it was actually something — before she unlocked her car and lowered herself into the driver's seat. When she turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtered and refused to catch.

"Not now," Dani muttered to herself. Her eyes darted to the window, to where Jamie stood witness, and she turned the key again. "Shit."

Jamie's voice was slightly muffled through a layer of glass. "Let me have another look."

Yanking open the door and stepping out, Dani said, "No. I'll call a tow this time. The pharmacy has a phone I can -"

Except Jamie was already leaning across her, reaching into the car to pop the hood. "It's fine. Really."

Dani shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jamie -"

"I can fix it."

"You can't."

"You haven't seen me with a spanner, yet," Jamie said, and she grinned over her shoulder as her fingers sought the latch to lift the hood of the car.

"No, I'm saying — you can't."

Something in her tone made Jamie pause. Dani lowered her hand, only to clench it into a fist, pushing down hard on the knuckle of her thumb. She swallowed, trying to tamp down the nerves that made her feel like she was half-crawling out of her own skin. All that circling around one another — veiled pleasantries and wary exchange of glances — like being inexorably drawn down by the gravity of the very thing neither of them had the courage to voice. 

“I don’t -” Dani started to say, and had to try again when her voice slipped. “I don’t want you to fix my car.” 

Jamie cocked an eyebrow, straightening slowly from where she had been leaning over. "Then what do you want?"

"I want you -" said Dani shakily, "- to talk to me. Actually talk to me."

"Thought I was doing a pretty good job of it until now." Jamie was still grinning, as if with a well-timed joke she might make this whole conversation never happen.

Shaking her head, Dani breathed, "Stop. Just stop.”

“Stop what?” 

“Stop acting like everything's fine. Like this -” Dani gestured between the two of them with sharp little movements “- is fine. Because it's not. And I know you know it."

Jamie’s hand was balanced on the top of the car door, holding it open. She stepped back and shut it, not loudly but firmly. “What’s there to say?”

“You come back after all this time, and you don’t even acknowledge that - that -” Dani grasped for the right words, but the feeling danced just out of reach of articulation, like catching the edge of a bowl on a high shelf with the very tips of her fingers. “Ruth died.”

Jamie’s jaw went tight. “Yeah, I remember. Found her myself, even, if you recall.” 

"And then suddenly you were just -" Dani lifted her hand only to let it drop back to her side "- gone! No goodbye! No note! And I - I had to go on like everything was okay, when it wasn't. Nothing was okay. I wasn't okay.”

“And I was?” 

“No!” Dani said. “That’s not -!”

“You think all this happened because I wanted it?” Jamie asked, making an all-encompassing gesture towards the empty alley. 

“That’s not what I said! I just -!” Dani took a deep breath, trying to steady herself when it felt like the world was rocking on its axis around her. “I missed you. Everyday. I still do."

Jamie stared at her as though the rug had been pulled right out from under her boots. "I'm here now," she said.

"Yeah, but you weren't. Not then. Not when I -!" Dani cut herself off from whatever idiotic thing she'd been about to let slip.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do? I didn’t ‘leave.’ I was taken." Jamie took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her thighs. "Jesus, Dani, I was sixteen! Sixteen and trying to raise a kid by myself. Can you imagine what kind of disaster I would've -!" But Jamie just turned her head aside, lifting her hand to cover her mouth and shake her head.

"You didn't think to talk to anyone?" Dani asked. "Me? Judy? Or -?"

"Judy? Judy was the one who called social services! And you know what? I'm fucking relieved she did. At the time I was so mad, but now, I -" Jamie swallowed past a burr in her voice. "I couldn't have stayed here even if I wanted to."

For a moment Dani waited, waited for Jamie to say something else, to continue. When she didn't, Dani breathed an incredulous huff of laughter. "What? They -? They un-invent telephones where you went? Never heard of the postal service before?"

Jamie was shaking her head and smiling, an angry rictus grin, as she looked down at her feet and kicked at a loose stone. "Not that simple, is it?"

"Isn't it? God knows I tried to send letters to you. All the time. Even years later."

Jamie still wouldn't look up at her. The line of her mouth was hard. "I couldn't."

"Couldn't?" Dani pressed, and it was her turn to step forward, ducking her head to try and get a good look at Jamie's face. "Or didn't want to?"

"No, I - I wanted -"

"Well, clearly not."

"Dani -"

"Because the Jamie I knew wouldn't have gone down without a fight! The Jamie I knew was -!"

"Jesus fucking Christ! I didn't send you a letter because I couldn't stand it!" Jamie yelled. "Because if it was going to end, then I wanted it over quickly! Put me out of my misery! Send you a letter? Then what?"

Dani's mouth dropped open but no sound came out. Jamie was looking at her now, and her eyes were over-bright, her cheeks flushed, her lower lip trembling. They stood close enough that when Jamie exhaled shakily, Dani could feel the stir of the air. 

Jamie breathed in sharply before she said, "You would've stopped replying. Eventually. You would've slipped away, and I — I couldn't do that. Not this time. Not with you."

The silence stretched between them, terrible and vast. Dani made an abortive movement — to touch her, to do something — but Jamie flinched as if expecting to be slapped. Dani blinked, freezing in place with her hand outstretched, while Jamie ducked her head and wiped briskly at her cheeks. 

"I wouldn't have," Dani said finally, feeling raw, feeling flensed. "I'm still here. I've always been here."

"Yeah. Yeah, y'are." Jamie nodded. She cleared her throat gruffly and straightened.

Slowly, falteringly, feeling brave beyond compare, Dani lowered her hand, only to reach down and touch Jamie’s balled up fist. Jamie started at the contact, her eyes darting down as Dani brushed her thumb against the back of her knuckles until Jamie loosened her hand enough to clasp their fingers together. Dani was enchanted by the way Jamie held her mouth, by the brief flutter of her eyelashes and her unsteady inhalation at that simple touch. 

"So, you missed me?" Jamie gave her a watery grin.

"Of course, I did,” Dani murmured. “You were my best friend."

Jamie nodded, swallowed thickly, but said nothing.

Dani squeezed Jamie’s hand gently, feeling the ghost of that pressure returned before she let go. “Can we -? Can we start over?” Dani asked, and she smiled weakly. “Oh, wow! I'm so glad to see you again! Do you want to catch up sometime?"

Jamie laughed and shoved her hands into her back pockets, rocking in place on her heels. "I'd like that." When she met Dani’s gaze this time, her teeth caught on the side of her lip, a corner of her mouth curling in a smile. “You want to come over for afternoon tea next week?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Jamie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Probably should have a look under your bonnet, though.”

“God,” Dani muttered, darting past her to pull open the car and pop the hood. “I almost forgot about that. I’m sorry - I - ”

Jamie stilled her movements with a warm hand on Dani’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Really. Let me fix it.” 

Mouth suddenly dry, Dani nodded. “Okay.” 

 --

It was by now second nature for Dani to sweep her eyes across her childhood home the moment she stepped foot in it. By all accounts, it was a picturesque two story house with not a picture frame or vase out of place. The floors swept and vacuumed, the plastic plants eased into corners, dusted and shined. But there were things only Dani had a keen eye for. The thin layer of ash collected on windowsills and corners of kitchen countertops. Empty glasses hidden in bathrooms or the back porch. Empty bottles under the sink that needed to be collected and thrown out. Cigarette butts hidden under sofas and chairs — those scared her the most. 

It was simply her good daughterly duty, to check in at least once a week, fearing the day that there wouldn’t be a childhood home to come back to. She was well versed in the nature of it, and not just the fear and the duty, but the side stepping and placating that came along with it. 

“I just don’t see what the issue is,” her mother said, sitting behind Dani at the small round kitchen table, smoking as Dani cleaned the empty glasses piled in the sink. “You’ve always loved reading.”

Dani sighed. They’ve been circling this conversation since morning before church. “I told you, I don’t have the time for a book club.”

“There’s so many other young women your age there, and they don’t have any issues with time,” her mother said, in between puffs. Dani could practically feel her mother’s hard stare on her back. “Weren’t you friends with some of them? Susan? Jackie?”

Dani clenched her teeth, scrubbing particularly hard at a wine glass. “I’m sorry mom, but no,” she said.

Karen exhaled sharply, expelling a stream of smoke. “I just don’t understand you, Danielle,” she said, her voice cutting. Dani’s shoulders tensed. “We always do anything you want in your free time, but any time I want us to do something together, you can’t even bother. Every time. Every time it’s like this with you.”

There it was. You simply just didn’t say no to Karen Clayton. Not without consequence. Dani learned that a long time ago, browbeaten into something smaller and softer for Karen to mold and subdue when her eyes weren’t so glassy and her words weren’t so unsteady. But the past week had lit a flame under Dani’s feet, a sort of weightlessness she hadn’t felt in so long that she didn’t even remember what it had felt like before. 

Still, it didn’t stop Dani from hunching her shoulders in an attempt to curl into herself as Karen audibly stood from her chair, the legs screeching against the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, as if that would soften the blow, rinsing off the last glass and shutting off the pipe.

Karen scoffed as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice and a bottle of vodka. When she spoke, the cigarette bobbed between her lips. “No, no. Far be it from me to want to spend more time with my daughter, do something fun together. And the ladies would’ve loved to have you there. They’ll be so disappointed.”

Dani would have laughed if the idea of it didn’t make her feel taut at the seams. There was no fun to be gained sitting in a room with women who either relentlessly taunted her in their youth or whispered behind their books of how Dani was spotted just the other day having dinner with councilman Fields and her perfect fiancé, the promising politician to-be. Nothing to be gained in being her mother’s showdog, paraded around like a prized possession, her mother’s pride and joy. Dani would’ve laughed, if the thought didn’t make her feel hollow.

Instead, Dani frowned, drying her hands on a dish towel as she watched her mother make herself a drink, her mouth pulled tight in a scowl as she poured and mixed, expertly maneuvering the lit cigarette between two fingers. It was her third drink of the day, having already downed two mimosas during lunch. Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling it curdle uncomfortably as she watched.

As her mother took a long sip, Dani murmured, “Work has just been keeping me busy, is all.”

Karen gave her a look. “Honey, you’re a teacher, what could possibly — “ she cut herself off when Dani’s stare hardened. Karen exhaled sharply, turning away to take another sip and stabbing out her smoke in an ashtray Dani had just cleaned. “Never mind.”

“No,” Dani said, pulling her arms tighter around her. “What were you going to say?”

“I said never mind, Danielle,” her mother repeated, her eyes hardened. She sighed and rubbed her temple. “God, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Karen stumbled away, retrieving her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the table before wandering out of the kitchen towards the living room. Dani watched her leave, her breathing shallow and her hands clenched into fists. 

It took a minute longer than usual, to let it ease out of her. To let her shoulders drop from her ears and her fists to relax open. Maybe it was her mother switching on the tv to a loud sitcom. Or maybe it was the orange juice and vodka, still laid out on the counter along with other empty bottles that needed to be thrown out. For one brief intense second, Dani considered combing through the entire house for every single bottle and carton of cigarettes, to empty them down the drain and toss them all in the garbage. 

She took it out on the dishes instead, drying them with a cloth, her movements jerky and rushed. If she wasn’t so focused on it, wasn’t frowning so hard down at her reflection in the glass as she focused on trying to ease the tension in her coiled muscles, maybe then she’d have noticed the knock on the front door a second sooner. Maybe then, she would have remembered — 

“Afternoon, Mrs. Clayton. Long time no see.” Jamie’s distinct voice, cheerful and pleasant as ever, came from the front door. 

Remembered that Dani, temporarily car-less, had made plans for Jamie to come pick her up at the old house.

Dani froze at the sound, her eyes wide at the silent interval, and then: “You have some nerve coming back here and knocking on my door,” Karen said, derision dripping from her voice. 

“Shit,” Dani muttered, and rushed to where her mother stood sentry in the doorway. Just over her shoulder stood Jamie on the porch, hands in her pockets and wearing a grin. A familiar grin, one that Dani knew Jamie had worn in the presence of her mother since they were young, placid and charming but which Dani knew hid its own share of derision. When their eyes met over her mother’s shoulders, Jamie’s grin softened. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” Jamie said. 

“You’re early actually,” Dani said, ignoring Karen’s piercing stare as she stepped aside to make room for Dani by the doorway. She had been hoping for her mother to be distracted by her television and her drinks to leave at the same moment that Jamie was supposed to pull up towards the house, but now — 

“Oh? Early for what?” Her mother asked pointedly.

Dani swallowed hard, pulling her mouth into a tense smile as she finally caught her mother’s gaze. “Oh, um. Jamie and I were going to go have tea. To catch up."

Karen hummed, folding her arms across her chest, sparing Jamie another sharp look, and said, “I didn’t realize you two were friends again.”

Any answer Dani could have given became lodged in the back of her throat. Her eyes flickered towards Jamie to find her already staring back, her expression blank but for the soft curl at one corner of her mouth. That was the rub, wasn’t it. Neither of them had identified what it was they were trying to do here. A tenuous strand of hope was threaded between them that afternoon a week ago, but Dani, feeling like a newborn colt on wobbly legs, wasn’t even sure where she stood in the realm of Jamie letting her back into her life. Wasn’t sure how far she herself was willing to go.

“Well, you have to start somewhere, yeah? A cup of tea’s a good enough place as any,” Jamie said, shrugging, her grin turning mischievous as she looked at Dani, “No matter how rancid.”

Dani would have chuckled at the teasing words if it weren’t for the eager thrill going down her spine at Jamie all but confirming the start of something.

Her mother smiled, the curl of her lips more of a sneer than anything. “I see,” was all she said, arching an eyebrow at Dani.

Dread pooled to her stomach, her muscles tensing as Karen bore her eyes into Dani, displeasure leeching off of her, her lips thin. 

Dani cleared her throat, pulling her mouth into a smile until her cheeks ached. “Well, I um. I just have to go get changed, and then we’ll get out of your hair,” she said, mindlessly reaching her hand towards Jamie, whose face flickered with bemusement. 

Karen's face fell. Far too obediently for her own sake, Jamie took hold of her hand, her bemusement morphing into something more mischievous. A shock almost went up from Dani’s palm up to her shoulder at the touch, Jamie’s hand calloused but warm and dry in her own. Letting herself be pulled in the house, Jamie was already toeing off her boots as she offered Karen a wink. Dani squeezed her hand with a reprimanding look when her mother’s eyes hardened. Jamie didn’t even have the decency to look contrite. 

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” Dani said, pulling Jamie insistently towards the staircase, offering her mother one last weak smile, “Promise.”

Her mother huffed and shut the door, disappearing back into the living room with one last scowl. When she was finally out of sight, Dani immediately dropped Jamie’s hand and led her up the stairs with a murmured, “This way.”

Jamie whistled low. “Your mum's still as charming as ever, I see,” Jamie murmured just behind her. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle. “She’s, um. She’s been in a bit of a mood today.”

She expected a sharp retort, the kind of snark only her mother could pull out of Jamie, but instead there was silence behind her. Dani glanced over her shoulder with a frown to see Jamie staring thoughtfully at the framed photos lining the staircase walls as they climbed. Portraits of Dani throughout the years, family photos of just Dani and her mom, and photos with Eddie intermittently spread across the board. It wasn’t anything new or special, photos Dani’s seen a million times that they could’ve faded into the walls, and she wouldn’t have noticed. But as she followed Jamie’s eyeline towards Dani’s high school graduation portrait, Jamie’s eyes lingering intently on it as they passed, a dull ache spread across Dani’s chest and she spun back around, swallowing hard. 

When they reached her bedroom, Dani shut the door closed with a click, the sound uncomfortably loud in the sudden quiet. Six years. Six years of after school hangouts, of homework, of sleepovers, and never once had Jamie appeared so out of place as she did now, standing in the middle of the pale pink of Dani’s childhood bedroom, hands tucked deep in the pockets of her jeans, her expression carefully blank as she took in the scene. 

“Hasn’t changed much,” Jamie said. 

“Wasn’t really any need to,” Dani murmured, still trying to shake off the panic of having Jamie in her room for the first time in a decade, trying desperately not to recall the memories of the last time they had been in this room together.

As if her mind had drifted towards the same place, Jamie’s gaze wandered over to the purple comforters of Dani’s bed, visibly swallowed hard, and promptly meandered away towards Dani’s bookshelf. Feeling as if she’d both seen too much, and not enough at all, Dani cleared her throat and started towards her closet where she still kept some change of clothes, blindly pulling some out. 

With clothes in hand, she froze on the spot and murmured, “Um.”

At the sound, Jamie looked back at her and then down at the clothes she clutched in a fist. She blinked for a moment and then grinned. “Need me to turn around?” She asked, twirling a finger in a circle as a curious pale flush spread across her cheeks.

Dani felt her stomach swoop and drop, her cheeks warming. She chuckled breathlessly. “No, It’s — It’s okay. I’ll just — I’ll be a minute,” she said, and didn’t even wait for Jamie to reply as she darted out the room to change in the bathroom. 

In the time it took to change into jeans and a blouse, she managed to ease the tremble in her hands. To settle the panic of Jamie alone in her room, and of the embarrassment of just rushing out like that. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, to believe that things could’ve been easier after they had finally aired the frustrations of their reality. That things could’ve just inexplicably gone back to the way they were, and it would’ve suddenly been easier to look and talk to Jamie without feeling as unmoored as she did. 

When she returned to the room, she found that Jamie had wandered now over to her vanity, her arms loosely folded as she looked at the photos taped to the edges of Dani’s mirror. Photos that Dani knew contained so many memories that didn’t involve Jamie, memories that Jamie wasn’t around to take part of. Dani took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hanging her dress on a rack behind her closet door. 

It was simply the new normal, Dani reminded herself. The dawn of their fresh start, something she’d have to keep reminding herself until they finally found their footing, or until they eased their way into something different and new. The thought left her feeling unexpectedly calmer. 

Striding towards the vanity, she caught Jamie’s eyes through the mirror and gave her a small grin. 

“Senior prom looked fun,” Jamie said, taking one last scan of the photos before retreating to the other side of the room just as Dani stepped next to her. 

Ducking her eyes, Dani smiled weakly down at the contents of her dresser. “You didn’t miss much, to be honest,” she said, and began to exchange her modest earring studs to a pair of gold hoops. “Someone spiked the punch and almost everyone got super drunk.”

“You kidding? That’s loads of blackmail material right there for the taking,” Jamie said. “At least tell me you took advantage of that?”

Dani gave her a look through the mirror. Jamie rolled her eyes and shook her head, her grin fond. “A goddamn waste,” she murmured, and then unexpectedly sobered. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Dani froze, her eyes locked on Jamie, feeling her shoulders tense. “For what?”

“For riling your mum up like that. Habit, I guess,” Jamie said, shrugging with a rueful smile, before softly adding, “And also, everything else.”

There was something to be said with the way Dani’s heart immediately softened, her throat going thick at Jamie’s earnestness. The mirror needed a polish, and Jamie’s reflection was slightly smudged, so that she seemed to be standing further away in the background, as though a camera lens had been dialed out of focus. The new normal, Dani reminded herself. “I know,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “Me too.”

Jamie nodded, exhaling shakily and ducked her head to delve deeper in the room. Dani watched her silently through the mirror, brushing out her hair as Jamie wandered around as if she were in a museum, hands tucked away and her expression back to being painfully blank. When she finally reached Dani’s bedside table, she jerked to a stop, staring down at the one thing Dani had never found the heart to remove. The one photo left of Jamie out in the open, the only one framed and resting at her bedside, proving that she was here, that she had once existed in the orbit of Dani’s gravity. 

It was one of Dani’s favorites. Taken when they were around fifteen, sometime in the evening after a long spring day, Jamie holding Dani up in a piggyback ride with Dani’s arms wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders, the pair smiling so big and bright. Dani didn’t even remember what they were doing that day, only that feeling of endless carefree days, when she felt most like herself. 

She watched as Jamie picked up the frame, her face softening until she wore a faint but fond grin. Do you miss it too? Dani wanted to ask. Did you miss me? Instead, she looked away as Jamie’s throat bobbed, feeling again as if she’d seen too much. 

She finished by tying her hair up neatly with a blue scrunchie, exhaled softly, and said, “All done.”

Jamie cleared her throat and returned the photo to the bedside table, and said, “Right.”

The escape out of the house was easier than Dani had expected it to be. While Jamie slipped her boots back on, Dani retrieved a takeout bag she had left on the kitchen counter before bidding her mother goodbye for the day. Karen merely waved with a hum, distracted by the tv, though her mouth was still pulled tight in a scowl. 

They were almost out the front door scot-free when Jamie, clearly unable to help herself, smirked and called out just before the door shut, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Clayton. I’ll have her home by eleven.”

Dani huffed and knocked her elbow into Jamie’s ribs. At Jamie’s grunt, Dani bit her lip to contain her grin and shut the front door. 

“Your elbows are still as sharp as ever,” Jamie said, rubbing at her ribs, grinning widely as they strolled towards Jamie’s truck, as if the fresh air and distance from Dani’s room made it easier. “You Clayton women are pieces of work. Do I have that to look forward to in another twenty years?” she said, jerking her thumb behind her. 

Even as a thrill went down Dani’s spine at the thought of twenty more years of Jamie, she rolled her eyes and said, “Keep talking like that, and you just might.” Jamie smirked in response. 

The truck was warm from the afternoon sun as Dani slid in the passenger seat. There was a faint citrusy smell along with the little tree air freshener as if it had just been cleaned. When she caught sight of a variety of stickers attached to the glove compartment — a collection ranging between Star Wars, Star Trek, cartoons she vaguely recognized, and a legion of silver stars — Dani hid her smile by biting her lower lip. 

“What’s this, then?” Jamie said, gesturing down to the takeout bag Dani held in her lap as she started the engine. 

Dani grinned sheepishly. “Lunch. From Owen’s,” she said, “Can’t visit someone else’s home without bringing something.”

“You don’t have to do that with me, you know,” Jamie said as they took off down the street, not looking at her. “All that social niceties bullshit. All you need to do is bring yourself. S’all I care about.”

Leaning her head against the headrest, Dani watched Jamie’s profile with a soft grin. “It’s a midwestern thing,” she explained. “Besides, I wanted to.”

Jamie spared her a short glance, grinning crookedly. “The kid’ll appreciate that then,” she said, returning her gaze to the road. “My cooking is not up to snuff most days.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Dani. “You did tell him, right? That I was visiting?” she said, lifting her head and sitting upright.

“Oh no, I figured we’d surprise him.” When Dani gave her a look, Jamie rolled her eyes. “Of course I told him. D’you think I’m bloody mad? Imagine you at twelve years old, having a nice day at home when whatsherface from fourth grade comes knocking on your door for an afternoon cuppa with your mum. Christ, I may be a prat, but not that much of a prat.”

Dani laughed, and said, “You’re not a prat.” It was Jamie’s turn to give Dani a look. “Okay, maybe just a little. For comparing me to Mrs. Walker.”

“Believe me. You are miles ahead of that woman.”

A warmth spread across Dani’s chest up to her cheeks. With a pleased grin, Dani turned to stare at the passing buildings and landmarks as they drove by. The drive wasn’t too long, but it was filled with anecdotes of surviving their hard-nosed fourth grade teacher. 

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jamie muttered. “She was mental.”

“Fourth graders can get rowdy.”

Jamie snorted, and shot her a dry stare. “She yelled at you for reading ahead.”

Dani paused. “I actually forgot about that.”

Jamie chuckled as they pulled up to a house. “Right, here we are. Home sweet home.”

Dani eagerly leaned forward to look up at it through the windshield, smiling softly at the modest two story house. Pale grey with white shutters, a small porch right up front, and a bright red door. There were flower boxes along the windows on the first floor, blooming colorfully bright, and as she hopped out of the truck, she could see that there were also beds of flowers growing right along the walls of the house. 

“It’s beautiful, Jamie,” Dani said softly. 

Jamie shrugged. “Front’s all right. Back is a bit more of a mess.”

“Kinda have trouble believing that,” Dani said, enchanted with how picturesque it all looked. 

Jamie rolled her eyes and started up the front steps to the door, swiftly unlocking it. But as soon as Jamie led Dani inside, they both heard the thudding of feet bounding up a flight of stairs and the telltale sound of a door slamming shut. Dani hesitated, shooting Jamie a worried look. 

Rolling her eyes again, Jamie huffed and shut the front door. “Dunno what he thinks hiding is gonna do,” she grumbled, pulling her boots off, gesturing for Dani to do the same. “Gonna have to come down at some point.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Dani slowly asked, setting her shoes neatly aside on a rubber mat. 

“Seemed perfectly fine when I told him.” Dani gave her a dubious look. “Okay, I bargained pizza for dinner with him, and he promised not to be a git about it, so it looks like pizza’s off the table for now,” Jamie said, her words gruff but still unable to hide a grin. It was charming, but did very little to comfort Dani, worrying her lower lip. Seeing this, Jamie softened. “Look, just give him a minute to settle. You know how us Taylors are.”

Slowly, the tension in Dani’s shoulders eased, and she nodded with a small grin. “Yeah, I do."

Jamie mirrored her grin for a moment before clearing her throat and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Right, well. How about a bit of a tour?” she said, gesturing broadly to the house, “That’s another thing you midwesterners like doing, yeah?”

Dani grinned dubiously and said, “You realize you are a midwesterner, right?” 

Jamie snorted. “Hardly."

The first thing Dani noticed was how bright it was. Every window they passed was wide open with the curtains tied back, letting the afternoon light bounce across the off-white walls and a warm breeze waft through the rooms. The second thing she noticed was that there were plants everywhere. Greenery eased into corners and on tables and ledges. As Jamie led her through the kitchen to drop off the takeout, Dani smiled at the various plants and flowers propped up on the fridge and counters.

Leaving the takeout bag on the counter next to the sink where a variety of pots rested on the ledge just behind it, basking in the sun, Jamie stepped next to her and gave a curious shake to the watering can that sat in the sink. 

“Ass didn’t even finish watering them,” Jamie grumbled, but at Dani’s chuckle, she shook her head and grinned, turning around to lean her back against the counter. “Guess this is the kitchen.”

“It’s lovely,” Dani said, taking in the white cupboards and dark countertops. She especially liked the small dining table separated by the kitchen island that sat cramped next to the open window overlooking the small glimpse of what Dani could see as the backyard. 

“Tell me how you really feel,” Jamie said. “Needs some work, more like. Feels like every time I empty a box, another magically appears, I swear.”

Dani couldn’t say she knew the feeling. Every box in the house she shared with Eddie that was emptied and packed away felt like one step closer to a locked cage. She didn't say this though, didn’t let it show on her face, not when there already seemed to be a strange sort of stiffness to Jamie’s shoulders as she guided Dani out of the kitchen, gesturing with her chin towards the door that led to the basement with her hands deep in her pockets. Tense eyes that refused to meet Dani’s own as she pointed out the bathroom and various cupboards and closets, like she was nervous as to what she might see in Dani’s expression. 

Like the truck, the house smelled like it had just been cleaned. Floors swept and not a speck of dust in sight, like the house had been cleansed of anything unsavoury. There was something both sweet and unnerving to it. Slowly, as if leeching off the nervous energy from Jamie, Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, wishing she knew what to say as Jamie guided her towards the living room. 

She wished she could tell sixteen year Jamie how charming the visibly well worn and loved the mismatched furniture was. The same Jamie who was taunted relentlessly for living in the poorest neighborhood in town, but never seemed to care when it came to Dani. Wished she knew how to tell this Jamie, who seemed to think Dani was the kind of person who grew to care about such a thing. Wished she knew how to tell her that every single object, every single plant and knickknack and visible record vinyl was like getting a piece of the puzzle back, like getting little pieces of Jamie back. 

New normal, she reminded herself faintly, meandering away from Jamie to wander around the living room, eyes darting about, hungrily taking everything in.

When her eyes landed on the picture frames lining the mantle, her stomach twisted tightly, and slowly, she neared them. There were only four, and while they were so few, it somehow made them all the more precious given how Dani hadn’t seen a single other photo among the rest of the house. 

The first one she sought was a charming school photo of Mikey, looking just a few years younger, smiling wide with his hair tamed and slicked back from his usual mess of curls. The one next to it was an old black and white portrait of a striking woman who could only be Ruth Heron, square-jawed and stern-eyed even in her youth. The next one Dani actually remembered taking; Jamie on her fifteenth birthday, sitting in front a cake with lit candles, wearing a wide crooked grin as she held a baby Mikey in her lap with Ruth standing just beside them, an arm across Jamie’s shoulders and wearing a rare warm smile. Dani swallowed against a lump in her throat, her grin rueful, memories of that day warming her skin.  

When she reached the last photo, she paused. It was of Jamie and Mikey, though Mikey was much younger than he was now, looking near six years old. Small enough for Jamie to hold up against her hip with his arms wrapped around her shoulders, both wearing near identical smiles. Jamie stood shin deep in water, her pants rolled up to her knees though still damp at the edges, and behind them was nothing but dark blue water. Dani’s hands itched to touch the frame, to pick it up and inspect it more closely. 

“Atlantic ocean,” Jamie’s voice came from behind her. 

Dani jerked the hand away that had been inching across the mantle, spinning around to see Jamie had stepped nearer, hands still in her pockets, shoulders still tense but the corners of her mouth curled faintly. 

“Sorry,” Dani said, balling her hands in fists by her side.

Jamie shook her head. “S’alright,” she said, and shrugged, “Only fair, I guess.”

Dani chuckled, recalling the way Jamie had seemed unable to remove her own gaze from the photos in her childhood house. She gestured towards the photo and said, “You saw the Atlantic?” 

Jamie hummed, her eyes straying to the photo in question, her face softening into a fond smile, and stepped closer. “Scarborough, Maine if you want to get particular about it,” she said, “Water was cold. He didn’t want to get in or let me stray too far. First time he ever let me hold him like that.”

“Good day?” Dani asked, still looking at Jamie.

“Yeah,” Jamie murmured, nodding. 

There was something enrapturing with the pensive warmth in Jamie’s face, eyes distant as though she was recalling that day. But all too quickly, the look was gone, cleared away to a carefully blank expression. 

“Anyways,” Jamie said, clearing her throat, and gesturing with a nod of her head behind her, putting on a grin, “Backyard’s this way.” Dani followed dutifully as Jamie led them to a door near the kitchen, already open save for the mesh screen to let in the breeze. She pulled the screen open and gestured for Dani to take a look. “Remember. Bit of a mess.”

Giving Jamie a look, Dani peeked her head out, feeling distinctly like was looking at an unfinished piece of artwork. There was a porch that encompassed the whole length of the back of the house, painted white and swept clean, various tools and gardening supplies shoved into each corner. The backyard itself was larger than Dani expected, clearly still in the process of being cleared; the grass was cut and weeds removed, but there still remained unwanted bushes and a collection of yard waste bags filled to the brim scattered around. Near the back corner, there were more tools and supplies shucked by an old shed that seemed as if it could give Dani tetanus just by looking at it. It wasn’t as much of a mess as Jamie had made it out to be, but Dani could see the potential in it. 

“Isn’t much yet, obviously,” Jamie said, leaning her shoulder against the wall next to the door, “Haven’t had time to work on it, unfortunately, due to work and all.”

Dani spared her a soft grin before stepping out on the porch, the wood warm beneath her feet, and leaned against the wood railing. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Jamie who stared at her with an odd look for a moment before following her outside and leaning on the railing next to her. 

“The plan,” Jamie said, exhaling as she looked over the yard, “Haven’t thought about it much.”

“Bull,” Dani said. Jamie smirked at her, shaking her head fondly. “Seriously, what’s the plan?”

“All right,” Jamie murmured.

Leaning her chin on her fist, Dani watched as Jamie explained her vision for the backyard, eyes bright and gesturing towards different corners of the grass, pointing out which flowers would go where, and which vegetable plot there. 

“Could use a tree,” Dani offered. “A fruit tree, maybe.”

“What kind?”

Dani hummed in thought. “Apple.”

“All right, where?”

“Somewhere there.” Dani gestured in a vague direction towards the back.  

Jamie chuckled, and said, “That’s where the greenhouse is going.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “Fine, a cherry blossom out front.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie grinned. “All right, anything else?”

“I’ll let you know.” The warm breeze brushed against Dani’s skin as they chuckled. When they fell quiet, listening to the trees rustle, Dani straightened after a moment, and said, “I always knew you were gonna do something with plants.”

“That right?” Jamie said, straightening to lean against a pillar, eyes still warm, but there was a guardedness to it now. 

Dani nodded. “You always complained about it, always wanted to do something else when Nan put you to work but,” she paused, eyes drifting back to the yard, recalling those days Jamie would roll on her back in the grass next to Dani after a long day of chores, eyes shut with the faintest of smiles, her nose speckled with sun kissed freckles. Dani’s mouth curved into a warm smile, “You were content after.” 

Her gaze drifted back to Jamie who was watching her with an unreadable expression. Soft as it was, it sent Dani’s stomach fluttering not unpleasantly. And then, Jamie blinked and glanced away, shrugging. “That’s the thing with plants, I suppose,” Jamie said. “Easier than people. Predictable. Good listeners. Give back what you give them.”

Dani’s smile gradually slipped away, and before she could find the words to respond, Jamie pushed off the pillar and gestured to the house. Dutifully, Dani followed her back inside. The rest of the tour went by at speed light with Jamie leading her upstairs, pointing vaguely to three doors she described as another bathroom, her own bedroom, and a spare room they mostly used for things they haven’t found a place for yet, until they reached the last door at the end of the hallway, covered in more stickers. 

“And this’ll be the kid himself,” Jamie said, winking at Dani before knocking hard on the door, "Oi, unless you’ve got a hankering for my dry pasta, I suggest you best get yourself sorted out in five minutes for lunch.”

There was audible scrambling from behind the door. Dani shook her head with a grin as Jamie chuckled under her breath. “Yeah, yeah, fine, I’ll be down,” Mikey called through the door. 

When they returned downstairs to the kitchen, Jamie immediately went about setting up a kettle on the stove to boil. 

“You know, you don’t have to spook him for my sake,” Dani said, watching Jamie comfortably move about in her own kitchen. 

Jamie chuckled, “He’ll be all right. Gives back just as good as I give him, believe me.”

“You mean like all those Star Trek reruns he subjects you to?” Dani said, grinning. 

Jamie groaned. “This entire week’s been a nightmare. You’d have thought it was the World Cup last Monday, and I bet it’ll be the same tomorrow,” she said, “Absolute torture, I’m telling you.”

“I’m sure,” Dani said, chuckling.

At the sound of the floor creaking behind them, they both turned to see Mikey standing in the entrance to the kitchen, fidgeting with his hands and looking just as anxious as he’d been that day Dani first spoke to him about his math homework. 

“Christ, took you long enough,”Jamie said, “What were you hiding from? The boogeyman?”

“Maybe,” Mikey said with a pointed scowl at Jamie who snorted.

Just barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Dani smiled gently down at him, and said, “Hi.”

Catching her eyes, Mikey’s scowl immediately evaporated into a shy anxious grin. “Hi, Miss Clayton,” he said.

“How’s your weekend been?”

He shrugged noncommittally, his eyes flickering away to the floor. “Was okay,” he said, and then twisted his face around as if thinking something through with a great deal of effort before meeting her eyes again and adding hesitantly, “How was yours?”

“I could say the same,” she said, and leaned forward just a little as if divulging a secret, “Though don’t tell Jamie this, but I think it’s gotten a lot better today.”

She was surprisingly pleased when Mikey broke into a grin, and even more so when his face scrunched up in bewilderment, glancing at Jamie dubiously and asked, “Why? Because of her?”

Dani was unable to hold back a snort when Jamie huffed behind her. “Y’know, unless you want the boogeyman to eat your lunch and bite your head off for dessert, I suggest you help set the table.”

Jumping into action, Mikey did as he was told, grabbing the plates Jamie handed to him and a set of cutlery from a drawer to set on the kitchen table. 

“Do you need help?” Dani asked. 

“Nope, you’re our guest,” Jamie said, offering Dani a grin over her shoulder, “You just sit right there, and get yourself comfortable.”

With nothing better to do, Dani settled into a chair at the table, resting her chin on her palm and trying not to watch the pair too closely, but it was hard not to. Not with the way Mikey seemed to brighten from the shy boy she was familiar with to one who bickered quietly with Jamie on who got which favored mug. Not with the way they danced around each other with ease, grabbing things from cupboards and drawers to place on the table. But when Mikey rolled his eyes at another one of Jamie’s quips, snickering and jumping away from a well aimed kick to the back of his legs, all at once Dani could see the ghost of a twelve year old Jamie in his soft features, and she had to finally look away. 

When they finally settled into their chairs adjacent to Dani, teapot on the table and takeout bag in hand, she helped them distribute the three sandwiches she had bought. 

“I wasn’t sure what else to get, so I got us something I remembered you liked,” Dani explained, anxiously watching them unwrap their lunch.

Jamie offered her a grin. “Like I said. Can’t go wrong with Owen’s handiwork,” she said, a glint appearing in her eyes, “But — “

“Oh no,” Dani muttered.

“But,” Jamie repeated, chuckling and opening her sandwich to pull out a pickle that had been peeking out the side, “If I ever see you bring a gherkin into my house again, we’re gonna have some words.”

“Oh,” Dani murmured, her cheeks going warm as Mikey followed suit, leaving the pickles on the side of his plate with an awkward grin. “Sorry. I - um. Guess I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Jamie said, giving the teapot a quick glance before pouring tea in each of their cups, “Next time.”

The thought of a next time sent a thrill down Dani’s spine, her mouth flickering into a pleased smile down at her food, and with a sudden brazenness that surprised even her, Dani reached out to Jamie’s plate to pluck a discarded pickle and eat it. Jamie froze, eyes wide, and laughed. 

“Now why do I get the feeling you forgot on purpose?” Jamie said, eyes bright.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Dani said, shrugging and not meeting Jamie’s eyes.

Jamie laughed again, and without prompting, relinquished both hers and Mikey’s discarded pickles on Dani’s plate with a flourish. Dani caught her eye, grinning in thanks. 

Mikey watched this all with a puzzled frown as he poured sugar into his tea before sliding the small container towards Dani. “Um, Miss Clayton, do you want sugar?”

“Yes, thank you,” Dani said with a grin, tossing in a few teaspoons of sugar. “You know,” she started slowly, reaching for the milk to pour in enough until it was the color of pale bark. “You don’t really have to call me that, I’m not your teacher here. You can just call me Dani.”

When she set the milk back down, she caught Mikey looking at her tea with wide eyes just short of aghast and Jamie shaking her head. 

“Just ignore it,” Jamie said, “And whatever you do, never accept a brew from her. It’s probably poisoned.”

Dani rolled her eyes and kicked at Jamie under the table who shied away, grinning into her sandwich. When she looked back at Mikey, his face was slightly pained. “Okay - um. Miss Dani,” he said, and at Jamie’s snort he glowered at her. 

Dani smiled gently when he bit into his sandwich, chewing roughly. “You know, I’ve always been impressed with your manners,” she said, chuckling when his eyes darted to her in surprise, “I’m just not sure where you’ve gotten them from, ‘cause I know you didn’t get them from Jamie.”

“Oi!” Jamie said. While Mikey had no problems snorting loudly, Dani fought hard to not laugh at the exaggerated look of betrayal on Jamie’s face, biting hard at her lip. “I’ve got plenty manners, thank you very much. Gentlemanly one might say. Perfectly charming.” Dani caught Mikey’s eye and they shared a mischievous grin. “Oh, I see how it is. This is what I get for inviting you over and treating you to my patented Taylor hospitality.” Dani only hummed, hiding her grin as she sipped on her tea. Jamie gave her a dry look and said, “Never again.”

Dani laughed, unable to help herself. A fond grin slowly creeped it’s way on Jamie’s face, shaking her head.

Mikey’s eyes bounced between the two of them curiously, landing on Dani with a small frown. “Miss Cla — Miss Dani?”

“Just Dani is fine.”

Mikey’s face twisted, settling into a stubborn frown, and firmly said, “Miss Clayton — ” Jamie shared a small grin with her out of the corner of her eyes “ — Jamie said you both grew up together.”

“We did,” Dani said, smiling indulgently. 

“Did you also know me?”

“She sure did,” Jamie said, smirking. “Changed your diapers and everything.”

Mikey’s eyes immediately went wide and his cheeks red, hiding his face as he returned to his sandwich. When Jamie chuckled, Dani gave her a look. Jamie merely responded with a sheepish shrug.  

“Hey, you know that photo on the mantel? The one from Jamie’s birthday?” Dani started, patiently waiting for Mikey to meet her eyes. When he did, curious and nodding, Dani tilted her head, her grin soft. “I took that photo.”

His eyes widened, “Really?” At her nod, he took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, and said with his mouth full, “That’s cool.”

Dani chuckled, and after a brief moment of consideration, she spared Jamie a sly look. “And you know,” she said slowly, grinning when Jamie frowned suspiciously at her. Dani ignored the look and turned back to a curious Mikey. “Jamie was telling me that you’re a big Star Trek fan.”

Jamie froze. “Dani.”

Dani continued to ignore her, her grin wide as Mikey’s eyes lit up, straightening in his seat. “Yeah! Are you one too?”

“Dani — “ Jamie tried again, her voice pained.

“I used to watch reruns of the original, and the weird cartoon they made.”

“I have the VHS tapes for all the movies!” Mikey said, “I even taped the new show last week, have you seen it?”

“I haven’t actually,” Dani said, enjoying the horror creeping on Jamie’s face way too much as Mikey seemed to nearly bounce in his seat with newfound energy. “Is it any good?”

“It’s amazing, do you — “ he paused, seeming to slow down, a sudden shyness overtaking him, “Do you wanna watch?”

“Christ, not again,” Jamie groaned, burying her face in one hand, rubbing at her forehead, resignation settling heavy on her shoulders. 

Dani laughed, and said, “I’d love to.”

At the rate Mikey finished his sandwich and tea, lunch was quickly over. Before Jamie could get a word edged in, Mikey shot up from his seat, grabbed their empty plates and cups to dump in the sink, rushed out a breathless, “Thank you for lunch, Miss Clayton,” before dashing into the living room to set up the tv.

Left alone to bask in the aftermath of Mikey’s hurricane of excitement, Dani leaned her elbows on the table, pulling her lips between her teeth to hide her smile as Jamie stared at her. “I’m beginning to think you may be the devil in disguise,” Jamie said dryly. Dani laughed again, unable to help herself as Jamie grumbled under her breath, standing to step towards the sink. “Laughs at me, she does. Who knew human suffering was just a barrel of laughs.”

Shaking her head, Dani stood and followed Jamie to the sink as she opened the tap, nudging Jamie’s shoulder with her own. It earned Dani a grin, the terse edges of Jamie’s mouth gone, leaving only indulgent fondness that seemed to strike hard at Dani’s chest, leaving her somewhat breathless. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jamie said, handing Dani a cloth. 

Dani slowly took it, carefully avoiding Jamie’s hand, and said, “I promise to go easy on you from now on.”

A curious look crossed Jamie’s face, one that Dani didn’t have time to decipher before Jamie was grinning crookedly again. “Best not to make promises you can’t keep," she said, and winked.

Feeling her stomach twist, Dani matched her grin and they both set about cleaning the dishes. Jamie washing and Dani drying in companionable silence, Jamie’s shoulder and arm occasionally brushing up against Dani’s, warm to the touch. Dani wore a soft grin the entire time. When they were done, Jamie dug through her fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, offering one to Dani, only to shrug when Dani shook her head no, replacing one back.

“I am definitely going to need this if I’m going to survive the next hour and a half,” Jamie said, popping open a bottle. 

Dani blinked. “An hour and a half?”

Jamie snorted, pointing the bottle towards Dani. “You made your bed,” she said, taking a hefty swig. 

Making their way to the living room, Mikey was already set up in the middle of the couch, legs crossed with a remote in hand while the big boxy tv set up on the other side of the room was paused, the screen flickering over a distorted image. Jamie collapsed on one side of Mikey, lounging back with an arm resting on the back of the couch, and her legs stretched out on the coffee table, one leg crossed over the other. Dani meanwhile, sat gingerly on the other side of Mikey, stiffly sinking into the soft blue cushions, her shoulder resting inches away from Jamie’s hand. 

Jamie sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

Mikey knocked his arm into Jamie’s rib. Grunting, Jamie retaliated by flicking his ear. Mikey swiped her hand away, huffing before turning to Dani, and asked, “Ready?”

Chuckling at the sibling antics, Dani nodded. “Ready.”

Dani settled in as Mikey excitedly pressed play, the screen coming to life as planets flew by and familiar music began to play. Dani’s mouth slowly curled into a warm smile. It was as though she absorbed Mikey’s excitement, anticipation buzzing at her skin, nostalgia draping over her like a warm cloak. The memories of curling up next to her dad as they sat through another rerun together weren’t unexpected, but they did spread a warm and somber fondness through her. Her smile faltered just slightly. 

As Mikey murmured along to the intro under his breath, Dani felt eyes on her. Flicking her gaze to her right, she was met with Jamie staring at her with gentle concern. When Jamie arched a questioning eyebrow, Dani shook her head and smiled. Jamie stared for a moment longer, before returning her eyes to the tv, taking a sip of her beer. Dani kept her gaze fixed on Jamie for just a second longer, studying her profile, before returning it back to the show, chuckling silently at Mikey’s murmured recitings. 

It was strangely easy, to sink further into the cushions, to settle in the comfortable silence with Jamie and Mikey, curtains closed to block the glare of the evening light and swinging gently in the breeze. To share another grin with Jamie as a man in out of place medieval looking clothes appeared on screen, Jamie’s feet rocking back and forth. To chuckle when Jamie received another elbow to the ribs as she sipped her beer after muttering a “Cheers, mate,” when the aforementioned man decried human civilization, and Mikey muttered back, “Stop being embarrassing."

Dani got lost in the warmth of it, taken in with Jamie’s teasing and soft grins, and Mikey’s shy eyes and barely restrained eagerness. A slow ache creeping across her chest, pulling apart the fragile seams that held together the longing for what could have been as Mikey, over time, relaxed deeper and deeper on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest as he slowly leaned his back against Jamie. Dani carefully observed them when he rested his head against Jamie’s shoulder, her heart swelling as Jamie’s eyes slowly drifted down to Mikey relaxing against her side, her face softening in the diffused evening light, a corner of her mouth curling into a faint smile. As though feeling Dani’s gaze on her, Jamie’s eyes darted up and caught her own. Dani’s grin widened as Jamie fondly rolled her eyes, turning back to the tv. 

When the episode drew to a close, a pair of giant space jellyfish reunited once more to the sound of Jamie’s exasperated sighs, Mikey turned back to Dani, eyes bright and eager with questions; if she enjoyed it, what were her favorite parts, who was her favorite character? Dani laughed and answered as best as she could while Jamie left them to it, retrieving another beer from the fridge before returning to listen quietly as Dani and Mikey discussed the episode. But when Mikey began enthusiastically planning for next Sunday, Jamie nudged him in the shoulder with a tisk. 

“Don’t go making plans without asking the lady first,” Jamie said. 

“Oh,” Mikey murmured, looking up at Dani, his eyes shy again. “Do you want to come back next week to watch the next episode, Miss Clayton?”

Dani softened under the stare of his brown eyes, aware that Jamie was watching with a careful blank expression. “I’d love to,” Dani said, and grinned at him, “Only as long as you call me Dani from now on when I’m here.”

Mikey made a face, and finally relented with a nod. Pleased, Dani glanced back up at Jamie whose face was still curiously blank for a moment before she cleared her throat, and said, “Reckon I should get you home in time for dinner then.”

Dani froze. “Oh,” she said, struck by the reminder that there was an entire world that existed outside Jamie’s house that she needed to return to. She swallowed against the discomfort rising in her throat, her mouth flickering with a faint smile. “Guess you’re right.”

Jamie shot her another grin before rising to her feet, ruffling Mikey’s hair and disappearing back into the kitchen. Dani stood, hands fidgeting as she grinned down at Mikey. “Well, it was good to see you,” she said. 

“You too,” he replied softly, just a touch of that anxious tension returning to his shoulders now that there was no longer the topic of Star Trek to play as a buffer between them. 

Dani forced her smile to relax as Jamie returned sans beer bottle, hands tucked into her jeans again as she stood waiting. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?” Dani said, offering him one last grin, “I really enjoyed watching the show with you.”

Mikey’s smile brightened slightly. “Me too,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

She left him with one last small wave, and let Jamie quietly guide her towards the front door where Dani slipped on her shoes. 

“Thank you,” Dani said softly, “For having me.”

Jamie grinned crookedly. “My pleasure,” she said, and her shoulders bunched up an inch, that same uneasiness from earlier edging its way into the lines of her face. 

Dani hesitated briefly, and said, “He really seems to enjoy it. Sharing it with you.” Jamie’s eyes softened, and she ducked her head to hide it. Heartened at the unexpected shyness, Dani risked adding, “Try to go easy on him.”

Jamie snorted, but nodded all the same. “You don’t have to come watch again, you know. Honestly. God knows I’m already plagued with this obsession of his, don’t need that on your plate any more than I do.”

“I want to,” Dani said, firmly enough that Jamie’s mouth snapped shut, blinking in surprise, “I had fun.”

“All right,” Jamie murmured, a slow warm smile brightened her face.  

“Besides,” Dani continued, “What kind of friend would I be if I disappointed Mikey? If I let you go through that alone?”

“So I passed the test?” 

Dani’s brow furrowed at the question. “The test?” 

“We’re friends again?”

It was like something slammed into Dani’s chest, the way her breath escaped her. A thickness grew in Dani’s throat, her muscles twitching to move, and before she knew what she was doing, she was stepping closer, being pulled in like gravity until her arms were wrapping around Jamie’s tense shoulders and she was pressing her face against the soft flannel fabric of her shoulder. It was like a shock to her system, having Jamie in her arms again, like being jolted back to life. 

“Of course we’re friends,” she murmured, nearly breathless, and after what felt like ages, Jamie’s arms wrapped around her, encompassing her waist and pulling her in close. Dani exhaled slowly, her breath unsteady as she felt Jamie’s shoulders relax, sinking into the hug with a sigh of her own. Distantly, Dani wondered if Jamie could hear Dani’s pounding heart. If she could feel the tremble in her hands as they pressed against Jamie’s firm back. 

She closed her eyes and sank further into it, digging her hands into Jamie’s shirt and breathing her in. The smell of the earth and fresh laundry detergent hidden under Jamie’s preferred sandalwood cologne both comforting and familiar that Dani could’ve smiled into the crook of Jamie’s neck, if only it weren’t for the thickness of her throat. It twisted tight at her stomach until she finally lowered her arms, head ducked. 

Jamie released her immediately, stepping away and clearing her throat. “Right,” she said gruffly, not meeting Dani’s eyes as she raked a hand through her hair, ruffling it up into an unruly mess. 

Dani swallowed hard and smiled weakly at the flyaways she itched to smooth down. Instead, she met Jamie’s eyes and said, “I - um. I should go.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, but when Dani reached to twist the lock open and pull open the door to march out, Jamie chuckled. “Where do you think you’re off to?”

Dani spun around to give her a confused frown. “To dinner at Judy’s?”

“And you were just gonna walk all the way across town?” When Dani merely blinked at her, Jamie laughed and began shoving her feet into her boots. “Haven’t you heard? There’s boogeymen about these parts. Can’t risk letting you get snatched on the street.” Just as she stepped out the door, she turned to shout back into the house. “Be back in a minute, don’t burn the house down.”

“No promises!” Dani heard Mikey call back immediately, like it was a thing they said often. 

Dani grinned at the fond roll of Jamie’s eyes as she locked the front door, and the wide gesture towards her green truck, as if motioning towards a carriage and horse. “After you,” Jamie said.

The drive back was quiet save for the radio playing low on some rock station. Feeling brazen again, Dani turned the dial towards the same station Carson had set in her own car. 

“No one said you could touch that,” Jamie said, mirth in her voice. Dani merely hummed in response with a satisfied impish grin, leaning back in her seat. 

When Jamie finally pulled up to Dani’s childhood home, she set the truck in park and offered Dani a grin. “Well, thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for tea.”

Jamie grinned. “Next Sunday, then?”

Just as Dani began to nod, the door to the car parked in front of the O’Mara’s house swung open, and out stepped Eddie, as though he’d been waiting the entire time for Dani to return. Her stomach sank, heavy like lead. Even from this distance, Dani could see a puzzled frown shadow his face as he caught sight of Jamie’s truck. 

Jamie exhaled slowly. “Best get on with it then, right? Say my hellos.”

“Sure,” Dani said distantly. 

Pausing for a moment, Jamie snorted. “Think he’s still angry I accidentally set his homework on fire that one time?”

Dani laughed at the memory, and shook her head. “We’re not in high school anymore. I think he got over that years ago.”

The look Jamie gave her was dubious. “I’m putting my life in your hands here,” she said, but when Dani ignored her plight, stepping out of the truck and taking a deep breath, she heard Jamie mutter, “Christ, here we go.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of her, stepping forward to pull her in a hug but stopped short when he spotted who followed Dani out of the truck, his eyes wide. “Jamie,” he said, blinking, and chuckled breathlessly. “Wow. It’s been a while.”

As Jamie stepped towards them, Eddie held his hand out. Jamie shook it just once before returning hers to her side as Dani felt Eddie’s arm wrap around her waist to gently pull her in close. 

“Ed,” Jamie said, wearing that same placid smile she wore for Judy at the bistro. Eddie pulled Dani a little closer, his mouth tightening. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Mom and Carson mentioned you were back in town. Dad even said he caught you down at the hardware store the other day. Seems like you’ve caught up with just about everyone now.”

Jamie hummed with an affirmative nod. “All but Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

At Jamie’s old nickname for the elder O’Mara twins, Dani bit back a snort. Even Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, they live out of town. Got families of their own now,” he explained, and fell silent, seemingly not knowing what else to say. 

“Good to hear,” Jamie said in the ensuing silence, her eyes darting between Dani and Eddie, still wearing that same smile until it morphed into something unfamiliar. “And looks like congratulations are in order for you lot also. Well done.”

Dani’s stomach clenched anxiously, hands slowly balling into fists by her side as Eddie’s smile brightened, pulling her in closer by the waist. “Thanks. We appreciate that,” he said. 

Jamie smirked. “Well, look at you both. North Liberty’s very own royal couple.”

Eddie chuckled, but Dani stiffened. She didn’t know how to respond to that, not with the way Jamie carefully eyed her, her gaze piercing. Dani decided to ignore it, to let her mouth pull into a small smile that strained her cheeks. “Jamie and I were just catching up over tea and lunch,” she explained to Eddie. 

“Sounds nice,” Eddie said, “How’re things going for you now that you’re back?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nothing to complain at home about,” she said, “Got my job at the gardens, Mikey’s top of his class, and I’ve been officially offered an open invitation to dinner at your mum's whenever I find the time.”

Eddie blinked, his voice faintly strained when he said, “Oh, uh. You’re coming to dinner today?”

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Jamie said, and shot Dani a grin, “Promised the kid pizza tonight.”

“Well,” Eddie cleared his throat, gesturing towards Jamie with a polite smile. “We should let you get to it, then. Right, sweetheart?”

Hearing the term of endearment felt like being underwater, the words muffled and deformed in her ears. Her smile was just a second delayed, pulled taut as she glanced up at Eddie. “Right,” she said, exhaling slowly as she returned her gaze to Jamie, immediately catching her eyes. 

Nodding, Jamie’s mouth pulled into a thin smile, the breeze whipping her hair and flannel. “Good to see you again,” she said. 

“You too,” Eddie replied.

Jamie shot her one last look, smile softened and faint, taking a step back and starting to turn away. Just as Dani began to feel the tug of Eddie’s hand on her waist, she reached her hand out to grab Jamie’s. 

“Hey,” Dani said, tugging Jamie to a stop who blinked in surprise as their eyes met. Dani opened her mouth to speak, but for what felt like an eternity nothing came out, until finally Dani said, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

The warm affection that bloomed in Jamie’s eyes nearly knocked Dani off her feet. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jamie murmured, squeezing her hand just once before easing it out of Dani’s with an easy grin, taking another step back, the wind ruffling her hair, and the golden light of the evening sun glowing on her skin as she turned away. 

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 15: Spiders Aren't Water Proof

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious. "Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit." "We can't use phones, right?" "I'm not talking about phones." We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though I wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city. Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good. "What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun. "It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?" "Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out." I fished out my last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter, which left me two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place. "Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping." "What are you talking about?" He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing." "Instant messaging?" "Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods." "You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. Annabeth held her palm out to me. "Drachma, please." I handed it over. She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering." She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer. "Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow. "Luke!" I called. He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow. "Y/N!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth and Percy, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?" "We're... uh... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—" "He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?" "I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?" Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement. "Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled. "I'll take care of it.'" Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on! "What?" Grover said. "But—" "Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered. Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed me the spray gun and followed Annabeth. Percy readjusted the hose so we could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke. "Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, guys. Word leaked out about the Zeus—Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus." In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically. "So what's your status?" Luke asked us. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you." We told him pretty much everything, including Percy's dreams. It felt so good to see him, to feel like I was back at camp even for a few minutes, that I didn't realize how long I had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and I realized I only had one more minute before the water shut off. "I wish I could be there," Luke told me. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen... it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him." "But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly." "That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still... Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible." We were both silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said. "Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never... I mean, she's like a little sister to me." I wondered if Annabeth would like that description. In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash. "You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, has the knife come in handy?" "Very..." I smiled. "The knife is really perfect." "And Percy, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good." "Oh... uh, yeah!" Percy tried not to sound like a guilty liar. "Yeah, they've come in handy." "Really?" He grinned. "They fit and everything?" The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate. "Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," Luke called, his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—" But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. We were alone in a wet, empty car wash stall. Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw our face. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?" "Not much," Percy lied. "Come on, let's find some dinner." A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?" I said, "We, um, want to order dinner." "You kids have money to pay for it?" Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger. I was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb. All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin. The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen— handsome, I guess, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, I felt like I'd seen his face somewhere before. As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?" The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window. He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?" He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen. The biker looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades. Who did this guy think he was? He gave me a wicked grin. "So you're the unclaimed kid, huh? No wonder they're arguing over who your parent is." I squinted at him, "The hell does my parents have to do with this?" "Well, which ever stuck up your parent is, the big guys upstairs are angry for interfering with your life." He said and placed his dirty boots on the table. "Your parent raised you with your mortal idiots, that's why no one can smell you." I could tell Annabeth wanted to say something but she probably was processing what this guy said. "Don't call my parents idiot. And I only have two parents, it's M/N and D/N L/N." I glared. I was confused as to why an Olympian would raise me and it'd hide my scent. Shouldn't it make worse? "Sure thing." He then turned to Percy who was beside me. "And old seaweed's kid." "What's it to you?" Percy spat. Annabeth's eyes flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—" The biker raised his hand. "S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?" Then it struck me why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five. "You're Clarisse's dad," Percy said. "Ares, god of war." Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear." "She was asking for it." "Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you." The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas. She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..." Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?" The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold. "You can't do that," I told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife." Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition." He turned to Percy, "I need you to do me a favor." "What favor could I do for a god?" "Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me." "Why don't you go back and get it yourself?" The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter. "Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you." I wanted to punch this guy, but I knew he was waiting for that. He'd love it if I attacked. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But by the gods I want to smack him. Maybe some other time. "We're not interested," I said. "We've already got a quest." Ares's fiery eyes made me see things I didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath." "You told him Hades stole the bolt?" "Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest." "Thanks," Percy grumbled. "Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends." "We're doing fine on our own." "Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom and Y/N's parents." "Our parents?" He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride." "What interrupted your date?" I asked. "Something scare you off?" Ares bared his teeth, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous. "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me." After that I must have fainted, or fallen into a trance, because when I opened my eyes again, Ares was gone. I might've thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth and Grover's expressions told me otherwise. "Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good." I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared. Did Ares really know something about our parents, or was he just playing with me? Now that he was gone, all the anger had drained out of me. I realized Ares must love to mess with people's emotions. That was his power—cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think. He does not lie. He knows about your parents. "It's probably some kind of trick, Y/N," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go." "We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent." "Why does he need us?" "Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annabeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes." "But this water park... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Annabeth and Grover glanced nervously at each other. Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out." The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D. The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy. "If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," I said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like." "Y/N," Annabeth warned. "Be more respectful." "Why? I thought you hated Ares." "He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental." "You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added. "Who is she? Echidna?" "No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love." "I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus." "What's your point?" he asked. I suddenly felt the need to change the subject. "So how do we get in?" "Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings. He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?" Annabeth, Percy and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top. The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise. We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of— "Clothes," Annabeth said. "Fresh clothes." "Oh my gods yes." "Yeah," Percy said. "But you can't just—" "Watch us." She snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and offered me a hand which I graciously took, together we disappeared into the changing room. "I need a shower." I groaned, while I changed. "We all do." She pointed out. A few minutes later we came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over our shoulders, obviously stuffed with more goodies. "What the heck." Grover shrugged. Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath. "So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, to keep my mind off the growing dark, "they have a thing going?" "That's old gossip, Percy," Annabeth told us. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip." "What about Aphrodite's husband?" "Well, you know," she said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?" "She likes bikers." "Whatever." "Hephaestus knows?" "Oh sure," Annabeth said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..." She stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that." In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE! Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look." Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze. "This is too easy," I said. "So we just walk down there and get it?" Annabeth ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue. "There's a Greek letter carved here," she said. "Eta. I wonder..." "Grover," Percy said, "you smell any monsters?" He sniffed the wind. "Nothing." "Nothing—like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?" Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground." "Hey Percy, that wasn't nice." I glared. "Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there." Pulling out my knife, "There isn't any monsters." "I'll go with Percy." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis. "No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong." Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?" "I don't know. Just a feeling. Y/N, will go with me—" "Yeah, I can go with." "Didn't take you as a romantic Seaweed Brain." Annabeth smirked. "What?" Percy's face was burning now, too. It made me laugh at how adorable he was. He turned to me and blushed even more. "Fine," he told us. "I'll do it myself." "Percy, I didn't say i don't want to come with!" I giggled. He started down the side of the pool, I followed, I hear him muttering about how this wasn't how its supposed go. Then I realized how we would've been surrounded by water. "Arthur Curry, if I drown I will beg Hades to have you." He paused and turned to take my hand and we continued walking. We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride. Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves. Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose, or mountain laurel. He smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek I frowned ripped it out of his hand and stuffed it in me pocket. "No." "What?" "Just get the shield, Arthur Curry, and let's get out of here." The moment he touched the shield, I knew we were in trouble. My hand broke through something that had been connecting it to the dashboard. A cobweb, I thought, but then I looked at a strand of it on my palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. A trip wire. "Wait," I said. "Too late." "There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap." Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine. Grover yelled, "Guys!" Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net. "We have to get out," Percy said. "Woah I didn't know!" I said. Percy grabbed the shield and holding my hand we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down. "I'm going to drown again aren't I? "Come on!" Grover shouted. He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..." "Hephaestus!" Annabeth screamed. "I'm so stupid.' Eta is H.' He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!" We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic... things poured out. It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal. "Spiders!" I said. I kicked these pests. Percy pulled me up and dragged my back toward the boat. "I am not staying here! I am so going to drown again!" The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding us. I told myself they probably weren't programmed to kill, just corral us and bite us and make us look stupid. Then again, this was a trap meant for gods. And we weren't gods. Percy and I climbed into the boat. Percy started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. I was swatting away some that I could. "Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker. The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming. I kicked one away from Percy's leg and its pincers took a chunk out of my new surf shoe. Annabeth was frozen from where she stood trying to keep away from us as much as possible. Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge. Think, I told myself. Think. The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. We could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million robot spiders. "Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called. Then I saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller's station. "Annabeth!" Percy yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!" Snapping out of her trance she turned. "But—" "Do it!" Annabeth was in the controller's booth now, staring at the buttons. "Five, four—" Annabeth sighed and started pushing every button, then looked up at us hopelessly, raising her hands. She was letting us know that she'd pushed every button, but still nothing was happening. "Y/N, I won't let you drown, just hold on!" I didn't think twice on nodding. Percy closed his eyes. "Two, one, zero!" Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. He pulled me into the seat next to us and fastened me seat belt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool. He held my hand tight afraid I'll drown the moment he lets go. The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst. Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus. Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff. Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit. If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade—one submerged, the other cracked in half. Jump. We have to jump. "Unfasten your seat belt," I yelled to Percy. Who already had his belt unfastened. "Jumping?" "We're going to have to jump for it." My idea was simple and insane. As the boat struck, we would use its force like a springboard to jump the gate. I'd heard of people surviving car crashes that way, getting thrown thirty or forty feet away from an accident. With luck, we would land in the pool. Hopefully not drown. Percy nodded. He gripped my hand as the gates got closer. "On my mark," I said. On mine. Jump when 'I' say so Perseus Jackson. He looked at me reluctantly. "How?" "What?" You'll know when I say so. "Fine." He shouted. "Jump when I jump!" "How would I know?!" "You'll say it!" "What?!" "Just tell me when to jump!!" "Now!" I yelled. I was about to jump when Percy pulled me closer. "Not yet! You didn't say it yet." Jump Hero. Percy jumped. I followed him. Crack! He was right. If we'd jumped when I thought we should've, we would've crashed into the gates. He got us maximum lift. Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, the pool was getting closer. I was going to drown again. Something grabbed me from behind. I yelled, "Ouch!" Grover! In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and me by the arm, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing, but we had all the momentum. "You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!" We spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall. We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive. Ares's shield was still on Percy's arm. "Are you okay?" Percy panted. "Yeah... I didn't drown." Once we caught our breath, Percy and I went over to help Annabeth who was getting Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him for saving our lives. I looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates. A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces. I walked closer, "You guys suck." I blew blasphemy at the camera. Percy pulled me away. "Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!" The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. I wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if our ratings had been any good. I hated being teased. I hated being tricked. And I had plenty of experience handling bullies who liked to do that stuff to me. Percy hefted the shield on his arm and turned to us friends. "We need to have a little talk with Ares."

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[hopeshoodie]

I can’t believe it took me until part 8 to do my favorite boy but

 Here are the pros and cons of dating

Noah

 Cons

Noah is really non confrontational, so he tends to let issues fester. It’s not that he’s trying to let things build up, it’s just that he doesn’t think they’re important enough to bring up. He won’t start a fight about them when they’ve built up, but if MC is angry about something he’ll mention that there’s a bunch of things he’s let go but not have specifics. It ends up coming out like ‘yeah well what about all the other things?!’ ‘what other things!?’ ‘I don’t remember!!’. He’s not actively keeping track of all her mistakes, he genuinely does forgive and forget, but then when tensions come to a boil he needs to point out that there has been conflict that he just ignored. He’s not trying to guilt or gaslight MC, but sometimes it feels like it. If she thinks especially little of his intentions, it feels like he’s just pulling things out of thin air to be mad instead of focusing on the issue. That’s not what he’s doing- he just doesn’t address little things until they feel like big things. But of course he hasn’t done the introspection to truly understand how doing this is hurtful or articulate that he doesn’t mean it to be. 

When he and MC disagree, he lets things go wayyy too easily. This is fine if MC is a really mature, self-reflective person who can see that she’s crossed a line after the fact. But if MC is a little more selfish/immature, like Lottie, this is a huge con because he doesn’t give her accountability that would help her grow. We saw this with Hope- she wasn’t able to recognize how harmful her temper was when she was dating Noah because he never pointed it out, he just rolled over. If there’s a genuine problem- financial, emotional, logistically, he’ll ‘let it go’ until it’s a way bigger problem (and much harder to solve). 

Sorry that most of these cons are about how he fights with people, but that’s what we saw in-game lol. I’d love to know more about how Lucas or Rahim fight with their partners. But when you’re arguing, Noah tends to focus on really little details of what you said instead of listening to the whole thing and getting a sense of the bigger picture. So let’s say the issue is ‘Noah, I need you to tell me when you’re borrowing my car because you took it to the gym and then it went from having enough gas to get me to work in the morning to being on empty. This morning I had to stop for gas and that made me late.” The issue there is actually ‘please tell me when you’re using my car”, but he fixates on the gas part and says “well fine I can fill up your tank”. So he focuses on little details that he can fix instead of acknowledging the actual problem.

He internalizes things so fucking hard. Yes he intellectually knows that when MC gives him feedback on things she’s talking about his BEHAVIOR and not him as a person, but he definitely feels like shit about himself if he makes a mistake and MC calls him on it. He’ll definitely beat himself up about things for weeks after it happens, and his internal dialogue in general is pretty toxic. 

I can see him being a bit of a workaholic. Not in the same sense that Camilo is in Boat Party, but Noah definitely will go into the library on a day he’s scheduled to be off if he has projects to work on or will stay late because he got engrossed in research. Same thing now that the library’s closed because of COVID- it takes him two times as long to put everyone online and work from home, so he’s spending more time working than ever. He views it through the lens of the ‘greater good’- getting that display set up for the patrons is more important that seeing his wife two hours earlier because many members of the community outnumber one person. Plus he just cares so much about his work that he has a hard time seeing it as an inconvenience to other people.

He loves his family so much. Even when MC and he get married and have kids, he struggles to prioritize them over his siblings and parents. So if his little brother Arlo needs money, Noah won’t hesitate to give him a loan even if he and MC are struggling financially. If his aging mom or dad can’t live alone anymore, Noah will invite them to move in with his family, even if their house isn’t big enough to accommodate more people. I can see this being a huge point of contention, especially in that second scenario where MC would have to take on a caretaker role as well. Noah just wants to help people so bad and has a hard time saying no, so that can sometimes impede his partner.

He’s really used to living on low income, and so he has a lot of frugal habits and concessions that he thinks are normal that someone more middle or upper class might find irritating. These are all coming from my experience and things partners have complained about- but think things like only eating out once a month or refusing to turn the heat on until it’s dangerous or making his own laundry detergent. He grew up doing them out of necessity (and still does, student debt on a public librarian’s budget? I couldn’t do it), so he doesn’t realize how strange or frustrating his habits might be to someone who isn’t used to it. He also has a really hard time justifying spending excessive amounts of money, so if MC has lavish taste there’s going to be some conflict.

He doesn’t like initiating anything. Conversations, activities… you know *smirk emoji*. He will, but the ratio of when Noah suggests something to when MC does is like 1:8

My boy is beautiful, and his clothes look lovely, but he has 7 outfits that he rewears all the time. The closest thing to fashion is him putting a different button up shirt underneath his vest. It’s definitely a joke at work that he wears the same sweater, button up, and quarter length shirt just in different colors. You know that vine where the teacher walks into the room wearing the same shirt in different colors, saying the same ‘hello’ for like a million days. Noah’s coworkers remake that with him, because that’s exactly what he does. 

He’s a bit of a homebody, and loves routine. For me, massive plus, I love that. But for someone who wants to party regularly or be spontaneous, I can see constantly changing plans and going out with people being really draining to Noah. He has a small group of close friends, so he’d struggle to remember MC’s friends' names if she has more than five. Don’t get me wrong, Noah will take MC to galleries and dates at least three times a month, but it has to be discussed and scheduled in advance. 

Pros

Honestly, what isn’t a pro about him? Noah is a steadfast, thoughtful, and kind person. His politics are about taking care of people, providing them dignity and respect, and building community. He loves his family and is incredibly patient. He’s incredibly smart but not at all classist or condescending about it. I know this is supposed to be about how the islanders affect the person they’re dating, but oh my god he’s such a good person I love him. Let’s just say the pro for this is his positive aura. 

He’s really good at group dynamics and listening, so he goes out of his way to make everyone feel heard and valued. If someone says something and no one acknowledges it, he’ll specifically engage with them so they’re not left hanging. If someone’s trying to get a word in but can’t, he’ll get everyone’s attention then say ‘so and so had an idea’. He’s not one to boisterously laugh in group settings, but he always makes eye contact and smiles if you make a joke that flops or say something he agrees with. If people are teasing about something, he picks up if it’s gone too far really easily and will gracefully change the subject/tell them to knock it off. 

He’s super conscientious about respecting boundaries and ensuring the people around him are taking care of himself. If MC and him are long distance and texting after 10pm, he’ll be like “I love you, but we’ve both got to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. He’ll always check and make sure people have eaten when meeting up with them, and if they haven’t he’ll insist they get food from somewhere. 100% gives you his jacket, brings you water bottles, in general just wants you to take care of yourself. 

Above all else, Noah just always ensures the people around him feel safe. The last thing he’d want to do is make people uncomfortable, so safe driving, safe spaces, safe sex are all musts. He’s really good in crisis situations because he can calm people down and encourage them to think critically.  

Building off of that, he’s really aware of how much of the housework is being done by who and always tries to ensure he’s doing his part. I bet that was a big thing he ripped on Rahim for- Rahim expects his woman to clean up after him and do the bulk of the domestic work, and Noah knows that’s bullshit. I think Noah likes cleaning, anyways, and will usually take laundry/disinfecting bathrooms/cleaning dishes over cooking or running errands. But the mental load of keeping track of recipes/groceries that need replenishing and keeping up with kids needs, he’s aware of the imbalance and does his part. Obvious plus, because it sounds fucking exhausting to date a man. He fucking hates vaccuming though, and will splurge on a roomba. 

He has a dry sense of humor that’s very based in puns and hyperbole. Sometimes it’s hard to know when he’s joking or not, but he never makes you feel bad for missing a joke or dwells on something for too long. He absolutely subscribes to the Mcelroys’ No Bummers rule, there are some things you don’t joke about and he’s happy to shut down inappropriate comments or ‘jokes’. He definitely prefers physical gaffs and dumb ways of saying things, so his favorite comedians are John Mulaney and Chris Fleming. While humor isn’t an important part of how he relates to other people, Noah enjoys being around funny people and won’t shut down their energy like Rahim, Marisol, or Hope. 

This is just me projecting again but Noah is generoussss. Even though he doesn’t make a lot of money at the library, he still has a ‘mutual aid’ budget each month (and goes over it often). He’s the first one to give money to panhandlers, donate to gofundmes, and give friends/family personal loans. That definitely gets him into sticky situations sometimes, because he has a hard time saying no and can get taken advantage of, but ultimately I think it’s a pro because he’ll never forget where he came from and always prioritize helping other people. 

He has a really pretty, deep singing voice and this is a pro to me because fuck I meltttttt.

The shit he says to his partner or spouse? THE most romantic thing in the world. You think Mr. “you’re made of stardust” doesn’t shower his lover with the most meaningful lines at random times? You think he’s not quoting sappho and jane austen when he’s at a loss for words? You think he’s NOT going to turn over in bed on a lazy Saturday and say ‘this is the most perfect my life will ever be’? It’s not even prompted either, yes he’ll compliment Bobby or MC when they get all dressed up for date night, but more often he’ll profess his adoration in the middle of dinner, then take another forkful of food. 

Fantastic with kids, and this is a huge pro because people who can work with kids and be patient/positive with them make me so fuckim soft. But if/when (hopefully when because if MC didn’t want kids I don’t think it’d last) they had kids, Noah is happy to be on bottle duty, wake up early to the baby, and generally be a really involved parent. He’ll take a big chunk of paternity leave, and generally be there as much as humanly possible. Even when they have multiple little tyrants running around, he always makes time to be alone with MC and make sure she’s not taking on too much.

He’s basically a lesbian, which is definitely a reason I love him so much. Hear me out- loves milfs, loves 80s music, communicates affection through meaningful glances and playing with hair but will die before explicitly saying any of it, crushes on his best friend for the longest time but never makes the first move, puts way too much emotional meaning and personal metaphors into objects and then presents them as gifts, is into fandoms and actively collects pop figures, is attracted to assertive/powerful women, wears beige skinny jeans, wears VESTS….. That’s a lesbian. He’s a bisexual man, but he’s also an honorary lesbian.

A really good confidant. Noah’s an amazing listener and never judges people harshly- his life philosophy is as long as you’re not hurting anymore or yourself, everything else is details. So you can definitely tell him secrets and confess regrets to him and he’ll listen with those soft eyes and gentle nods. Talking to him about mistakes always feels like unburdening yourself. And he’d never tell your secret to anyone. Doesn’t matter if you cheat on him, lie to him, or die, he’s never going to tell anyone your secrets. 

[writers-craft]

The Pit of Love

story i wrote for my creative writing class, not gonna re-read it, just gonna post it here because why not

Judith French looked at herself in the rear-view mirror. She looked a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy, for she had been crying just moments prior, and her mascara was smeared down to her cheeks, but her hair still looked nice. A few strands were poking out here and there, and it was damp from the water, but her bun stayed intact, despite all that occurred. And crying only emphasized the blueness in her eyes. It was like looking into the ocean, Len always told her. Blood was leaking from her leg—the one that met with the glass—and the inside of her once blue dress was now stained with blood while the outside had darkened with mud. Her bare feet, one on top of the other, had specks of the lake’s bottoms stuck to them. Heavens, she looked a mess. Evelyn Johnson would surely have a mouthful to say if she saw Judith’s appearance, or maybe this would be the one thing to make her go silent. Keith once said the woman would die talking.

“Where are we going?” she asked the driver, but it was not the driver who looked at her. It was his passenger, the man with the gun, but he spoke no words.

It was a Tuesday, Judith French knew, when she realized she utterly despised her husband. Leonard French worked as a travelling salesman. And he enjoyed buying and selling so much, he did it during his free time too. He often came home to Stony Point with a completely different vehicle from the one he left with. Upon her crash, Judith French briefly wondered what his reaction might be when he learned his precious Volkswagen Sedan was currently sinking to the bottom of the lake. He wanted to sell it to Thomas Richfield, a neighbor two houses over.

Neither the driver nor his friend seemed eager to speak to her, so she opted to look out the window instead. They were going so fast it was difficult to see anything but the blur of the grass. It had gotten so long and green this past month, due to all the rain. She could see cows, too, which meant they were nearing Maxwell’s farm. Evelyn Johnson tried to convince everyone last Christmas that Rey Maxwell killed his wife, who coincidentally was also named Judith, but the people of Stony Point knew Judith Maxwell had been sick for years. It was her time.

Judith French looked to the man who sat between her and Keith and glanced down at his watch. Out of the three of them, the driver, the man with the gun, and the one beside her, the one beside her was the biggest and the nicest of them all. He had been the one who helped her out of the lake. He noticed she was looking at his watch and twisted his arm to give her a better view. His watch told her it was a quarter till six. Len would be expecting his dinner on the kitchen table, but his dinner was at the bottom of the lake with his precious Volkswagen.

She nodded her thanks to the man and went back to looking out the window. They were about to drive past the covered bridge. That awful covered bridge. It was red, or at least it had been before the paint had chipped off. It was mostly brown now, and really quite broken. Most of the wood had been broken apart, leaving gaps all around the bridge. The gaps had mostly been boarded up, though, except for the ones too high to fall from. The roof had gaps in it too, but Stony Point did not bother repairing the holes on the roof. Evelyn Johnson claimed her father was mugged as a boy, but it was during a time when Indians and bandits ran wild. She told Judith French the story the night they met, then several other times after, but assured her that the bridge was safe now.

The children at Stony Point High School called the pit beneath the bridge the Pit of Love. Teens would spend most weekends hanging out underneath it. Len said he and Patty Lesley kissed several times under the bridge senior year. Patty Lesley was now Patty Brown and she worked as a middle school teacher. He assured his wife they only kissed in the pit, and nothing more.

Three men had recently died in the Pit of Love. The first was a stranger. Like Len, he was a traveling salesman. It happened while it was raining, no one saw him.  They found his car a few miles from the bridge with its gas tank on empty and his keys still in the ignition with a few empty liquor bottles in the passenger’s seat. Keith said he must have lost his footing stumbling drunk and fell through one of the gaps. A young couple visiting the pit found him early the next morning.

It certainly was the topic of discussion for a while in Stony Point. Evelyn Johnson enjoyed talking about it, at least. She said the man committed suicide. She claimed his wife wanted to divorce him and he was so distraught he flung himself off the bridge. But people soon got bored of talking about the dead man. They moved on to the next craze, which was the high school’s undefeated football team.

And then Patrick Walter Mathews Jr., high school senior and football champ, was found dead at the bottom of the pit shortly after. She remembered the day exactly, because she and Keith were at a motel the afternoon the boy’s body was found. It was the day when she accidentally smeared lipstick on Keith’s jacket, and Harriett soon after insisted Keith eat lunch at home.

Keith again labeled the death as an unfortunate accident. The whole town followed the Mathews’ to town hall and demanded they repair the gaps in the bridge. And the next day Rey Maxwell and his boys hammred in thick pieces of wood over all the gaps, the ones they could reach. Evelyn Johnson, of course, praised Rey Maxwell’s actions, claiming she always knew he was a good man, and who would ever think such a man could murder his own wife?

Len had been away when all the chaos occurred, even with the salesman. He said he met the travelling salesman at a conference once. At parties he spoke of him as if it were his brother. Judith French knew his real brother died in Normandy in ’44. He raised his glass to the dead man, and everyone followed suit. For the young football star, he offered his condolences for the boy— “Kid had a damn good arm,” he said to Patrick Walter Mathews Sr.—and then Evelyn Johnson pulled out her bible and said a prayer for both man and boy. Everyone bowed their heads and listened to her prayer, except for Judith French. She looked out the window and watched a little blue car speed pass her home.

“Where are we going?” Judith French repeated her words when they drove over the bridge. They rumbled a bit as the tires hit the wooden bridge surface.

The driver, the boy, glanced briefly at her through the mirror. She saw all of them fully after she escaped the sinking Volkswagen and had made it onto dry land. They were all dressed in nice suits. The driver, the boy, was leaning against his vehicle, shiny, black and long—Len would be able to recognize the type, but Judith French did not bother memorizing vehicle like her husband. He was a boy of about seventeen and small for his age. The man who sat beside him now stood in front of him then like he was his guard. The boy whispered something to him and the man with the gun handed him a cigarette from his inside pocket and lit it for him. The man who was currently seated beside Judith French was beside her; he had helped her reach dry land after the crash.

No one said anything again. Keith attempted to, but the dirty handkerchief around his mouth prevented him from saying anything audible. She took a good look at him. He still had not buttoned his shirt since they last parted, half an hour ago. His white undershirt was now stained with his blood. He was sweaty too. He seemed to have a desperation in his eyes, and she wondered if she would die with him, but more importantly she wondered if she wanted to die with him.

She cleared her throat and turned back to the boy: “You’re quite popular here at Stony Point, you know,” she began. The boy did not look up, but she noticed his ears twitch. She heard Keith mumble something again. “You had us all believing those two men were to blame for their own deaths. I’m astonished, really. None of us ever thought anyone here at Stony Point could murdered.” Keith mumbled something again; she suspected he wanted her stop. “But, then there’s the third man in question. You got sloppy with him, didn’t you?”

The man in the passenger’s seat pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. Keith, at that point, was frantic. The man in between Judith French and Keith had to forcibly hold him down to prevent him from tackling the man with the gun. But the bullet in his stomach soon wore him out and he rested his head on the window and shut his eyes.

The boy chuckled and urged the man to lower his gun. “It’s refreshing to be around someone like you again,” said the boy. It was the first time she had heard him speak. His voice was deeper than she expected it to be, and a lot warmer.

“Someone like me?”

“You know, someone who tries to get to the bottom of things. Someone who cares. Someone good.”

She shook her head. “I’m… I’m not good.”

And he glanced up at her again, lingering a bit longer than last time. His eyes were blue, like hers, but his were lighter.

The third man was found dead in the Pit of Love three weeks ago with a bloodied bullet in his head. Like the salesman, a group of teens found him. She was with Keith when he got the call. Harriett and the boys were at her mothers and Len would not be back until that Tuesday, so they had the weekend to be together. He was not planning on working that night, but Judith urged him to take the call, in case it was Harriett.

She had a strange feeling that Harriett, or Len, would burst through the bedroom door at see them. Keith assured her they were safe, but the presence of Harriett or Len did not scare her; it thrilled her. She wanted them to see. She wanted to get caught.

Keith left quickly, and Judith French did not see him again until the following week. Harriett and the boys delayed their return a week, at Keith’s insistence, and Len arrived home the next day. Evelyn Johnson said there was a serial killer on the loose, and everyone believed her. The police blocked the Pit of Love with yellow tape and had a few officers on guard night and day.

No one knew who the third man was, like the salesman at the beginning. He had no identification on him, nor did his killer leave enough of his face to identify it with, but a woman one town over reported her husband missing shortly after the body was found. She identified the clothing on the corpse to be what she last saw her husband wearing.

The whole town was hysterical, including Len. He cancelled his next two business trips to stay and protect his helpless housewife. Harriett and the boys arrived again soon too. Keith said Harriett was growing suspicious. Judith French had mistakenly left her lipstick in one of her drawers. Keith tried to convince Harriett French it was her lipstick, but Harriet and Judith French did not wear the same colored lipstick.

She met Keith each time it was his shift at the Pit of Love. The officers with him would often give them space, turn their heads and pretend their superior was not with the local travel salesman’s wife. Most of the men on the force knew, but during dinner parties and other town functions, they would act oblivious. Judith French wondered if Keith kept their love affairs quiet, too; an unspoken rule between men and the women they betray their wives with. Judith always wondered if Evelyn Johnson was faithful to Rodger. Rodger Johnson went on business trips into Hughes every few months. Keith later told her that he went there to be with prostitutes. He got in trouble with the Hughes police once and Keith had to go bail him out.

She parked the Volkswagen out of sight, hidden behind bushes and a large ad for Chesterfield cigarettes and met Keith under the bridge. The pit was full of old cigarette butts and broken beer bottles, among other things. There was a sitting area made of old tires and boards of wood painted a faded red, most likely the wood from the bridge. Keith laid his jacket down on it to prevent splinters. And they were quiet, like always. The only sound was the occasional car driving over them. When Keith finished, Judith French fixed up her dress and smoothed out her hair, which was hardly disheveled. Then Keith kissed her goodbye and then she drove to the market.

She saw Mrs. Mathews there. Her hair was down, and she had no lipstick, but she seemed in pleasant spirits, despite everything. Judith French talked to her about her youngest, Carol, who would be singing at some recital later in the month, and her middle, Peter, her last boy, who was thinking about trying out for the high school baseball team. They talked as if her eldest had not been murdered a few months ago. And then Mrs. Mathews asked when she and Len were planning on starting their family, and she laughed and told her hopefully soon, like she always did.

It was on her way home when a sudden burst of emotion filled her, and she had to stop and pull over to collect herself. She sat, her forehead against the steering wheel, bawling her eyes out for no other reason than to get the emotion out. She let the tears fall freely, before drying her eyes and continuing her route home. She imagined Len probably listening to the radio or on the phone talking his way into a new sale, whether it be for business or for pleasure. She took a few deep breaths before continuing her drive home.

The boy’s vehicle appeared so quickly; she hardly saw it at first. She kept taking quick peaks at her rearview mirror, attempting to wipe away the smeared mascara. It was on the fourth or fifth wipe when she looked up and noticed the vehicle about to crash into her. She honked, then swerved quickly and drove into the lake. Her car door would not open, so she had to break the window glass with her heel and crawl out. She cut her leg on shuttered glass on her way out. The boy’s vehicle had stopped and reversed as she was climbing out, and the man in the back hurried to her before the vehicle had gone into a complete stop. She wondered if he was the one who persuaded the boy to stop, or if the boy had stopped on his own account.

She remembered yelling at the boy for his reckless driving. The man beside him grabbed his gun, but the boy stopped him from using it. She fell silent at the sight of it and dropped to her knees, her leg stinging as it collided with rocks and dirt, but she did not stay in that position for long. The man who helped her out of the lake, gently guided her back on her feet.

She caught sight of Keith, gagged and bloodied, as he walked her to the vehicle. Keith was leaning on the window, a bloodied handprint beside him, clutching the open wound on his stomach. For a moment she thought him dead until he turned his head to look at her. His eyes popped open and he tried to mutter something. The man with the gun, who had taken his seat in the passenger’s side by then, reached in the back to hit him. The force of the blow made Keith’s head it against the window hard.

The boy did not stop the car again until the sun, now an assortment of reds and yellows, was merging in with the mountains in the distance. They were in a field far away from Stony Point. No cars were in sight. Judith French watched as boy and his guard exited the vehicle and rummaged around the back trunk. They removed a few items, then the man with the gun opened the door on Keith’s side. Keith, too weak to sit up on his own, fell onto the man. The man kicked him away. The boy opened Judith’s side. He held a larger gun than the other man, but instead of pointing it at her, he held it to his side and offered her his hand. She took it.

There was chill in the air. She stepped onto grass that prickled the bottoms of her bare feet. The other man managed to lift Keith up off the ground. He stood as tall as he could, but the wound on his stomach forced him in a hunching position.

The boy let go of Judith French’s hand and lifted up his gun—Len showed her a similar gun in a photograph before they were married. He had called it a Tom gun, she thought. She felt strong hands on her shoulder and she turned to see the larger man holding her steady. The boy aimed the gun at Keith, and he shuffled a few inches backwards, then started mumbling something underneath his mask but he was quickly silence by the bullets passing through his head. He was now on the ground, no longer murmuring. She felt her heart sink as the boy shifted his focus onto her. The man holding her gently guided her next to Keith’s corpse. The boy again lifted his Tom gun.

“How did you kill the first two?” she asked.

The boy did not answer.

“Poison, wasn’t it? I’d use poison,” she said, “or something else to make it seem like an accident. But I think you’re like me.”

He lowered the Tom gun slightly and smiled. “How so?”

“You want to get caught,” she said.

[patrick-in-the-junkyard]

Backseat.

Victor Criss X Reader

GIF is not mine.

Notes: Here’s the Vic Criss smut everyone has been wanting, I missed you all and currently my school grades are bitting me in the butt, but it’s a joy to finally get this one out. The setting is based on the song called Backseat by Peer Günt.

Summary: Derry has it’s brand new drive in open for business, and are screening a night of horror. Of course, the Bowers Gang would attend along with that Victor brings his girlfriend, the reader. But during the middle of the movie, things get heated fast.

Warnings: SMUT, Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Sex, Alcohol Usage, Drug Usage, and Langauge  

Words:3K

                                              ------------------------ 

     “Where’s Hockstetter this time? Junkyard?” Henry asked, leading Belch to laugh a little. Henry had a slightly confused look on his face at the now-empty seat next to Victor. 

     “You know that goody-two-shoes new girl? That’s where. He said he will probably arrive later tonight if he's done fast enough.” Henry, then became slightly jealous as he knew he now couldn’t be the first out of his gang to tap it.

     “Whatever, I’ll just hope she doesn’t get any diseases from the fucker.” Henry laid back into the seat, taking a long drag from his cigarette. 

     “Hey! Hey you guys, aren’t we going to pick up my date?” Victor added as he’d been growing impatient all day. Before this moment, he had seen you around Derry High when Henry once pointed you out since according to Henry, you looked very "out of place" in Greta's little gossip group. And it was until when he had accidentally knocked into you when he was chasing a kid who stole his quarter at the arcade downtown. By that point, you guys had talked and had become close over a short period of time.  It was his choice to take you with him since you guys had secretly been a thing, not a single soul knew until now.

     “Chill Criss, we will get her soon. Besides, it’s a few hours till this movie starts anyways.” Belch stated, Henry leaned back into the seat, tapping his foot to the beat of the music.

     “Who is it anyway? Marcia Fadden? Cynthia Stone?” Henry begged to know who his friend had fallen for. While Victor shook his head Henry tossed his cigarette into the tray.  

     “Come on Vic, cut the shit! Who is it?”  Belch was now in on it, curious as well. Victor gave a clue, stating that it was someone in the big Gretta friend group which made Henry fake gag as he thought Vic was talking about Sally Muller.

     “You’ll see when we pull up.” Henry kept an eye out, knowing that he almost knew almost everyone who lived in Derry and their houses.

     “What movie are we seeing anyways?” Henry would be full of disgust if it was another one of those romantic comedies that Belch enjoyed from time to time. 

     "That one slasher movie. The one that has a bunch of sequels... you know? The hockey mask killer!" Belch was the one to decide on which movie to waste his precious gas money on and they had seen a commercial for this film on MTV. Besides Henry was a huge sucker for horror so they all had to at least see it once.

                                                        -------

     It was a Friday night, typical that you had nothing to do except bail on all your friends' plans to sneak out with your boyfriend. It was almost nine o'clock and three hours ago when Victor said he’d be over. You outdid yourself on your outfit, curled hair, nice denim skirt, and a pretty ‘groovy’ top as your mom said. This would be the twentieth night of sneaking out so what could go wrong.

     You spotted the car pull up by your ditch from your window, you took a second to check the lock on your door. There was no looking back as you threw your window open and attempted to jump out. That only made you fall out on your ass, tearing a part of your denim skirt. It took you a solid minute for you to pull yourself up. But before you stood Victor jumped out Henry's door and dragged you to the car. Seeing the light on the other side of the house turn on, he gently pushed you into the back before jumping back in.

     Belch stepped on the gas as soon as the door was closed. You were holding onto Vic for dear life when Henry turned back to take a good long look at you, his eyes tracing your body, then smiling.

     "Criss she sure is pretty, how much would it be to have a turn someday?" Victor gave Henry glare for his ‘joke’ while Belch lightly elbowed him which made him change the conversation to one of their past teachers being a 'Hardass'. Victor patted his lap for you to sit on him, which you obliged giving him a small peck on his cheek. Pressing your face into his neck, his scent was now prominent, cigarettes and cheap cologne. 

     There was a slight breeze from Vic’s side window from being cracked down a little. It danced across your arms making you shiver and snuggle into him even more. His face was bright red and felt as your touch had a complete effect on him, draining the feeling from his body.

     Belch had made a few stops before arriving at the drive-in, first was to his house. He wanted to pick up something which you and Victor stayed in the car with Henry.

     Of course, Henry picked up the most awkward conversation, asking if you guys have already fucked yet and the works. Belch got back in and handed Henry a paper bag. 

     Booze, of course usually a night like this they always had to have a little alcohol. By the time you guys left, it was thirty minutes left until the movie starts giving time to pick up snacks at the Derry Market before arriving on time.

                                                          ------

     Derry had a brand new drive-in movie theater that was finished being built that April, you and Victor alone had only been once this month of May. The car pulled up next to the ticket booth and Belch rolled his window down. But what you hadn’t known was you’d come face to face with one of your main gossip buddies as she had picked up the ticket job.

     "Are you guys here for- holy shit is that-!" Gretta looked up from the little note pad in front of her to see you cracking down the window.

     "And in Victor's lap, damn I thought you had standards." She thought it was hilarious to humiliate you.

     "Gretta I'd give you twenty dollars so you could keep your big mouth shut."  Her eyes lit up and her awful chewing got louder, she was always up for a money deal. 

     "Deal! Just don’t let Marcia see you, she's working concessions tonight and you know she has a big problem with not closing her mouth." She had her hand out from the window of the booth as she watched you dig into your blouse pocket and hand her the twenty.

     "Thank you very much that will pay for your movie, by the way, please don't get aids so I have to kick you out of our group. I’d hate to have it end like that" You sarcastically laughed at her comment while Belch pulled away.

     They parked away from the rest of the cars but not too far from the screen, this made the other people coming in take it as a warning and start to park far away from them. 

     “We are going to wait in here” Victor was fast to call being alone with you in the car leaving Belch and Henry standing outside and looking up at the screen. The movie hadn’t started yet but it was going through previews to upcoming films in an old grindhouse type fashion. There were previews that you couldn’t help but pay attention to, including an advertisement for the Derry snack bar stationed by the ticket booth. 

    Henry spotted a blonde walking by wearing a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts walking past the car. The two of you watched closely as he followed her until you couldn't see him anymore. Belch tossed his cigarette onto the ground and made his way in the direction of Henry. It had become awkwardly silent other than the background sound of the movie.

     Victor took your hand in his, you guys were now finally alone together. 

                                                       ---------

     It was in the middle of the movie when you started to take little focus on the film, making little glances at Victor until he would catch you staring. He couldn't help but feel warm inside and slightly nervous around you. 

     You jolted at the loud noise played through the speaker next to your car and accidentally brushed you hand hard on his crotch making him squirm. You hoped that he didn't feel that but that was out the window when he turned his gaze to you.

     "I'm so sorry, I-" He grabbed your hand mid-sentence, he looked deep into your eyes. 

     His hand moved yours to his area, your heart pounded as you felt his warmth. It was easy to feel that he was starting to get hard, very hard. Without taking your eyes off of his face, you rubbed your fingers gently against him. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed pink. He couldn’t help but let out a low groan at your light touches. 

     When finally looking down, the outline of his cock was visible through his baggy camo pants. Taking in the sight of the slight twitching in his pants had made your thighs began to tremble. Mouth agape, you wanted to yell out even scream, this couldn’t be happening to you, Right? The only thing you guys had come close to was a sloppy makeout.

     He then lifted your hand and slid it into his pants, feeling how smooth and long his cock was. You placed a few fingers around the tip, it was leaking with pre-cum. You gripped the base of his shaft, lightly squeezing it and gently moved your hand in an up and down motion. Into the moment, he leaned into your neck. ‘Thank God her hair is not in the way.’ He thought as he started leaving a trail of wet sloppy kisses down your neck. It was when he took his hand and began to move his hand over the hem of your skirt. 

     Leaning back, he lifted his head up and spotted Henry making his way back, causing Victor to panic and sit back, accidentally hitting your arm with his knee. Alerting you to remove your hand from inside his pants.

     His head poked through the right side window eyeing the both of you with a big sly grin on his face.

     "Just checkin' in on the both of you, Belch told me to tell you guys he doesn't want his seats covered in jizz. So keep that in mind." He leaned more into the window, moving his arm around to find his pack of cigarettes that unknown to him were crushed between the seat and the glovebox. 

     “Vic do you still have your pack?” He hated Camels which was what Vic smoked but if there was no other choice said would just say ‘Fuck it.’. Victor took a moment before digging into his right pocket and pulling his pack out. He threw it over to Henry and he took out a couple of cigarettes.  Before he could get his head out the window, Victor asked him a question.

     "Where are you even going-." Vic could smell the scent of pot lingering on Henry.

     "A little side party, cool van, pot, and drinks. You guys should join us after your done with fuckin' each other." With that, Henry stood up straight and headed into the same direction he had come from.

     He patiently waited until he couldn’t see anyone in his direction.

     "We don't have much time. Do you want to just do a quickie?" Victor was very worried about getting caught especially in Belch's car of all places. If anyone were to find out the both of you would be dead meat. You nodded not being able to say a single word without stuttering. 

     “How are we s-supposed to fuck in a tiny space like this?” You brushed the tiny pieces of your hair in your face back, taking in a deep breath. 

     “I have an idea.”

     He gently pushed you back down onto the seat. The only complaint was having it be in a tight space and a two-seat backseat it was deemed to be very uncomfortable. While adjusting your back, you watched as he undid his belt and unzipped his pants only pushing them down to his knees. 

     His cock was flushed and had a slight curve but most noticeably he was painfully erect and craving for your touch. Seeing a sight like that only made you be stuck in a trance more than ever. Leaning over, he pushed your skirt up and over your stomach and removed your shirt for you. Mistakenly he ripped your underwear while taking them off, but it's like you needed those anyway.

     "Fuck me, I need you, Vic-." There you were, lying naked and lazily on the seats waiting and craving for Victor's next move.

      Your left leg was hastily pulled over and placed onto his arm making you lay onto your side. If anyone were to be outside, no one would know what was about to happen as double-checked. He looked out the window to see no sight of Henry or Belch just a small group at one car minding their own business. 

      In his hand, he took the reddened flushed tip of his cock and pushed it into your pooling entrance, only taking a second before thrusting the rest into you.  His now grip on your leg tightened, to him the pleasure was unbearable. To you his cock was the perfect fit, making you let out a low moan.

     "You alright sweetheart?" He had completely stopped all movement, holding still, the pressure of your walls gripping his cock almost enough to bring him over the edge. You nodded giving him a reassuring smile. Leaning down he left a small peck on your cheek before glancing down. From his view he could see how neatly tucked inside he was in your wet folds. He began to turn up his pace, watching your reaction to him lowly moving his hips.

     His hips lightly met yours as he was afraid to make the other people outside notice beside he didn't notice the car already was shaking slightly. His body was now completely flushed and couldn’t help but let out loud whimpers, almost fulfilling his urge to drop your leg and just pound you into the seats. He moved his free hand from his side and placed his thumb at your clit.

     He shifted you up pushing your bottom half up towards his hips, fucking up into you. The pleasure was almost too much for you as his thumb worked, moving in slow circles while he thrusts into you. You couldn’t help but let out a loud series of moans as you became close 

     “Are you close princess?” He could feel you tighten around him, about a few more thrusts and you’d be sent.

     “I'm so close, please Vic faster!” That was it, the last straw. He dropped your leg and leaned down. He didn’t care at this point about anyone seeing him at this point. Both of you could hear the wet sounds of his cock going in and out at a hard and fast pace. It was until you let go, letting out the loudest moan and tightening around him.

     “S-Shit! Fuck princess, I’m cumming!” Victor whined into your neck as his hips stuttered. Then halted, he was letting out the prettiest of groans while draining his load into you. His cock twitched as he came inside you leaving you full. The heat was unbearable, your head was burning up and your breath was heavy.

     You both laid there, your back into the seat until Victor lifts himself up and slowly pulls out, hoping to not get anything on Belch’s seat. While pulling up his pants and fixing his belt he watched while you were stuck laying in euphoria. 

     “You're so pretty like that.” He couldn’t help but say, to him you looked like a dream.

     Before going to help you clean up, he began to crack the window down to cool things down for you but was met with a semi-whisper from outside.

     “Psst hey fuckers, You guys put on a really nice fuckin’ show. By the way, nice tits princess.” Patrick pressed his face onto the window while licking it, taking in the sight of your half-naked body. Victor was angered and jumped out the door as fast as he could chasing Patrick until he couldn’t see his lanky figure through the cars. He came back after taking another second to look for Patrick, climbing back into the car. 

     After helping you put your shirt on and your skirt down he couldn’t help but stare into your eyes with a big smile on his face.

     He was in love, madly in love.

     “Hey princess, are you ready to get out and go find the rest of the gang?” He wanted so badly to kiss you again

     “Sure thing.” You leaned in giving him a peck on the lips

     You both were madly in love.  

     You both got out making sure to close the door and made your way around the cars. Eventually, you found the van where Henry stood amongst other people with his shirt off and Patrick lighting the dry grass on fire. Hand in hand, Patrick came up to you both, not taking his eyes off of you. Victor’s grip on you tightened as he stood over you.

     “You guys should fuck more often so I could get another peek at the peep show.” Victor was about to tell him off but before he could Belch stepped in.

     “Oh come on Pats, fuck off.” He laughed and handed Vic a beer. His hand gives you little squeezes, reassuring you that everything will be all right besides tonight will be a long night of fun partying together. 

                                                         --------

     The movie was now almost over and you both were drunk and stoned. The rest of the boys watched as you and Victor held onto each other while saying drunken ‘I love you’s back and forth. Henry was sorta disgusted and slightly jealous since that blonde left him with blue balls. Belch and Patrick just stayed dozed at the scene going on in front of them.

     It was about to change into the final midnight movie. By this time your only concern was getting home just before dawn.

                                                          --------

Taglist: @pattycake-hockstetter​ @forgottencandy​ @bowersgangvslosersclub​ @xx-kurt-cocaine--xx​ (If you want to be added to the taglist for more Bowers Gang content, just inbox me)

[txtdiaries]

Void - Chapter One

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 3.1k

WARNINGS | dark content, lots of swearing, some mentions of slightly gore-y topics, weapon possession, etc.

SONG REC | Massacre, The New American Dream - Palaye Royale

PLAYLIST | void playlist

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two

It was hard for the boys to remember their old lives - a time before the world burned, before the bodies around them stopped looking like humans and more like rotting flesh - to imagine the memories they shared, the places they had seen, or even the things they had done together. It was hard, yes, but it wasn’t impossible.

Therein lies the problem.

It was hard for them to not be reminiscent of the past, to not be swayed by the memories of their old lives. And it is what haunted them everyday, constantly dragging them down when the only thing they had to do was keep moving.

Sometimes life has a funny way of reminding you that you can’t always get what you want.

12 hours down.

The younger boys in the car were starting to get impatient. Not only because the ride was painstakingly long, but because they were in charge of directions, and not one could read a map to save their lives.

“How much longer?” The youngest asks, picking at his nails in boredom.

“Yeah, where even are we?” The boy near him chimes in, peeking expectedly over the seat at the eldest, who’s now driving.

“Utah?” The blonde smashed in between the two of them asks, looking at the other boy in the passenger’s seat. He opens his mouth to answer, but Yeonjun cuts him off swiftly.

“Idaho,” He corrects him. “Don’t you know how to read a map?”

“He’s too young for them, the only map he’s ever read is Google Maps.” Soobin jokes from beside Yeonjun, legs kicked up onto the dashboard as he sits in the passenger seat.

Everyone but Beomgyu laughs, and then the second youngest next to him is speaking up. “Jun, why did we head North and not East to begin with?”

“Because, child,” Yeonjun says wistfully, “Idaho’s filled with forests, Utah and Arizona have lots of flat land. We’ll have lots of cover here to sleep and make our way East, it’s just easier this way.”

The car is silent as the rest of the boys ponder this, and then one of the youngest speaks up.

“Who made you the boss?” Taehyun grumbles, turning towards the window again.

“He’s the oldest.” Soobin replies, reclining his chair back so he can get comfortable, “He’s also the one driving, so I wouldn’t complain too much.”

The small talk quiets down as the younger boys all decide to sleep, and the second eldest opts for gazing at the green scenery passing by just outside the jeep. It’s not long before soft snores can be heard throughout the car, and the only two left awake are the oldest boys.

When the quietness becomes deafening, only then does Soobin speak.

“Know where you’re goin’ Jun?” He still faces the window. His voice is low - soft.

“A gas station, hopefully. We’re running on a quarter of a tank and if we don’t fill up soon we won’t make it far.”

Soobin breaths out a bitter laugh, and then shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Yeonjun’s gaze flicks over to his friend, but their eyes don’t meet. He looks back to the winding road and his grip on the wheel loosens just slightly, his shoulders slouching as well. He knows what he means, he just doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Just East, Bin. You know there was talk of help there. Groups - they could help us.”

Soobin’s already nodding, because he’s heard this speech dozens of times now. Go East, get help. It was his mantra, the thing that kept him going everyday. Problem was, he wasn’t so sure it was possible.

“So what are we gonna do after that, hm?”

Yeonjun shrugs easily, “We’re taking it one day at a time.”

And then it goes quiet, both boys’ minds reeling with their own thoughts and worries.

Soobin is the one to break the silence again.

“I just wanna go home.” He says, voice wavering just slightly, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Yeonjun understands where he’s coming from, and it hurts to see his best friend so miserable.

“We’ll get home. All of us, it’ll be okay.”

Soobin almost laughs, because he knows the truth.

He knows it won’t be okay. It won’t be okay because they’re trapped in some jeep in some state, in a country that isn’t theirs, and the chances of them even finding help are slim to none, let alone getting back home. 

Soobin stays quiet.

The drive continues.

“We’re here, you all know the drill.” Yeonjun speaks to the rest of the boys after he finally steers the faded jeep off the freeway and into the parking lot of an abandoned, torn apart gas station just off I-84 a few hours later. Mumbles of agreement sound through the car as seatbelts unclasp, and the boys all prepare themselves for the work that lies ahead.

“I’ll check around the back for any gallons of gas,” Yeonjun explains as he eases on the brake, easily pushing the gear shift into park before unlatching his own seat belt, “Soobin, check for cash. The rest of you, find any food or supplies you can. And for fucks sake, try to stay together this time, got it?”

Yeonjun was used to this - being the one to give orders to the younger boys while simultaneously trying to swallow his own anxiety. He liked to say it got easier as time went on, but it didn’t. It never did.

“Everyone got their weapons?” Soobin asks, giving the younger ones in the back a side glance. They all nod.

The boys all have unique weapons in their possession, but they all have become proficient in using them, as they had no saying in the matter at all.

The youngest - who was, in a way, the least experienced - has a weapon that is as safe as possible for him to use, but can also be used to protect him. A metal mace, designed for clubbing, which he keeps tucked into one of his belt loops, and has aided him since he first discovered it. It hasn’t failed him yet.

The next eldest - skilled, but still clumsy at times - has a weapon much like the prior boys, just with more accessories. The head of his mace contains a spiked, metal ball, meant for piercing in one of the most painful ways possible. He’s used it many times. It’s his favorite.

The newly turned adult - finally getting the hang of this whole apocalypse thing - has a weapon different to the other boys, but still efficient. An axe, sharpened so thoroughly it could slice off a finger in the blink of an eye. He’s lost count of how many zombies he has taken out with it, but he’s proud of himself and his weapon. He’s getting better.

The second eldest - who doesn’t have to use his weapon, or rather, weapons, if he doesn't have to - is as skilled, if even more, than the rest of the younger boys. His weapons: two machetes, kept on him at all times, both slung in their holders at his waist, hidden almost completely by the clothes he wears, but able to be taken out in a moments notice. They haven’t failed him, ever. He knows they never will.

The oldest boy of the group - the newfound leader of them all - has a simple weapon. An aluminum bat, used for baseball or softball, but does a pretty damn good job at blowing zombie skull out as well. The boy has always been confident in his weapon, but more importantly, in himself. He knows he’d be fine with or without it. 

“Okay,” Soobin speaks, “Ten minutes, tops. If anyone sees anything, do not keep it to yourself. Kill what you can, leave what you can’t. Don’t take any chances-”

“We got it, Bin.” The youngest replies, trying to ease the black-haired boys’ anxiety. He sighs and then nods, motioning towards the gas station.

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

The boys all pile out of the car, and the fun begins.

They split up, all moving quickly and silently to where they need to be. The three younger boys all stay together, making their way inside to look for food and supplies. The second eldest goes straight for the register inside as well, grabbing a stray crowbar from it’s place leaning against the wall on his way, just so it’ll be easier for him.

The oldest, however, splits off. He heads around the building towards the back, searching for any gas he can find.

“What kind of food are we looking for, Binnie?” The youngest asks once inside the store, rummaging through shelves of boxed snacks and packages of junk food, giving him a momentary glance before searching around again.

“Stuff that’ll last. And please don’t get shitty junk this time, Kai. We don’t need snacks that will slow us down, we need food. A little is okay, but try to get a variety, alright?” The boy speaks, biting on his lower lip as he wedges the crow bar into the register, bending his arms at an angle so he can drive it down and into the compartment. He takes a deep breath before lurching the bar forward with all of the strength he can, the metal groaning underneath it. In a second, the register pops open, and he stumbles forward a bit to make up for the momentum of it all. 

“Anything?” Beomgyu asks as he stuffs his backpack with water bottles, looking at the eldest in the room.

“Not much, but it’s something.” Soobin replies, bending his arm back behind his head to keep the crowbar handy in his backpack, sorting through the money in the register after. The boy hums and continues on, moving to help the rest with supplies. The hardest part is almost done. All they have to do now is collect and fill up. And then they will be on their way.

Or else, they would have been, if the blue-haired boy wasn’t having so much trouble finding any gas. 

Yeonjun swears under his breath momentarily as he searches the back for anything, sifting through empty containers and wood, trying to find just one gallon. Hell, he’d take half a gallon. Anything to get them to the next stop.

The sun is beating down on the boy, and he stands up straight after a few minutes of searching, sighing in frustration as he does so. He wishes it wasn’t this hard sometimes. He wishes it wasn’t like this sometimes. 

Something in his peripheral flashes, and he turns his head to the right towards the corner of the building. His heart rate suddenly picks up as he sees it, finally. A gallon - filled to the very top with gas. Yeonjun could cry right then. It was like heaven on fucking earth seeing it.

The gravel beneath his worn, black dr. marten boots scrapes as he jogs over to the gallon, and he thinks he’s home free, that is until he actually reaches for the gallon. 

In the blind of an eye, Yeonjun is suddenly pinned against the brick wall of the gas station, a knife to his throat and an arm bent across his chest, keeping him from moving at all. 

His heart drops quicker than it ever has in his life, and he curses himself for being so stupid. And then, after a moment, he realizes what he’s looking at. And this shocks him even more than his own stupidity.

A girl, knife gripped with whitening knuckles and adorned in what he hates to admit is a really sexy outfit, stands before him. Gaze dark and lips curled into a scowl, staring up at him dangerously.

Yeonjun feels like he could cry again. But this time, not out of joy - only pure shock.

“Who are you?” The girl asks him bitterly, voice higher than he thought it would be. 

Yeonjun stares dumbly at the girl, vocal cords apparently not working anymore as he hyper focuses on the sharp metal pressing against his adam’s apple. She lets out a sharp sigh before adding more pressure, making Yeonjun’s eyes widen as he lifts his arm up to grip her wrist. His arms - and to be completely honest, everything else - are a lot longer than hers, so he can reach easily. The girl doesn’t ease up, and Yeonjun struggles to let out a choked gasp.

“I said,” The girl repeats, “who the fuck are you?”

Yeonjun hates that he notices how she has a slight lisp, or how nice her teeth are, or even how pretty the light freckles dotting the bridge of her nose are, but he does. After all, he hasn’t been in the presence of a member of the opposite sex for months (un-zombified, he should clarify) and it doesn’t help that she is attractive. So, so attractive.

“Yeonjun.” The boy manages to pant out. This seems to please the girl just the slightest, and she lets off the pressure a bit, letting him breathe finally.

“Why are you here?” She questions him again. He coughs internally, realizing that she really does ask a lot of questions.

“Gas.” Is all he can say around coughs before he lets go of her wrist. The girl lets out a dry chuckle, void of all humor as her eyes flash to the gallon near her feet. She’s glaring at him in no time.

“Yeah, looks like it. Problem is, you were about to steal my gas.” She replies, letting out another deep sigh before her eyes flash with an emotion he can’t decipher.

“Are you here alone?”

Oh fuck, Yeonjun thinks.

He keeps his lips pressed in a tight line as she studies his reaction. Her eyes blow wide as she realizes he isn't, and then she’s yanking his arm away from her to walk him towards the entrance of the station, knife still pressed firmly to his throat.

Yeonjun weighs the options in his head momentarily.

On one hand, he is clearly stronger than the girl - that much he can tell by the way her hand grips his arm shakily, as if using all the force she can muster.

On the other hand, he doesn’t want to be shanked to death by a blood stained knife sharper than Beomgyu’s axe, so he figures it is best to just go along with what she wants. If she was going to kill him, she would have done it by now. That’s something he learned awhile ago.

“Tell whoever it is you’re with to give me everything you both have, and I won’t kill you.” She says harshly, jabbing her knee into the back of his leg momentarily to make him move faster, not realizing he was in a group. Truthfully, Yeonjun has no clue what to do, but he knows he’ll figure it out soon. And if he can’t, someone else will.

Once the girl rounds the corner and steps him up to the entrance, he sees the rest of the boys sorting through food for the trip ahead. He feels his lungs deflate with defeat then, feeling like the shittiest leader on the planet.

He prays the girl doesn’t kill them.

She’s back to kneeing him painfully in the back of the leg, and he clears his throat awkwardly, trying to get their attention.

“We found cash,” Soobin explains as he hears his best friend’s sound, still keeping his eyes trained on the packages in his hands, “Not much, but it’s something. Did you find any-?”

Once his eyes flick up to his friend, he stops talking. His hands drop the food in his grasp and he visibly pales. The younger boys look up as well, all reacting in similar ways. It is silent for a few moments, the only noise being Yeonjun’s ragged breathing, before his friend moves.

Soobin doesn’t waste any time before sliding his machetes out from their holders, the metal sounding sharply through the air as he twirls them in his palms to grip them properly. He steps forward towards the two just outside the exit, gaze dark. Yeonjun has never seen him look so intimidating.

Yeonjun gives his friend a worried look before the tallest lunges forward, already shouting as he takes long strides toward the two.

“WAIT!” Yeonjun screams suddenly, voice thick with fear as the girl behind him yanks him away from Soobin, shielding herself completely with him as the knife presses dangerously hard against his skin.

“Fucking wait!” Yeonjun pants, eyes squeezing shut as he grips onto the girls wrist again, nails digging into her skin as Soobin stands just inches away. His weapons are raised up, ready to slice into what would now be Yeonjun’s ribs if he proceeded.

“Nobody move!” The girl finally speaks up, eyeing Soobin from over Yeonjun’s shoulder, breath hot against his ear. He tries to ignore the small affect her breath on his skin has, and focus on the main problem at hand.

“Come any closer and I will not hesitate to slit his throat.” The girl says, voice visibly shaking as she does so. Yeonjun is still panting.

“Take whatever you want,” Soobin growls, “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Give me everything you have.” She replies. “Everything.”

Soobin sighs and his eyes glance behind him for a second, looking at the rest of the boys frozen in place.

“We don’t have much. Just a little bit of cash and some food and water. That’s it.”

The girl scoffs and Yeonjun feels her knife lighten up just slightly. He doesn’t hesitate to act quickly.

Yeonjun twists out of her grip in a flash, and has the girl pinned to the ground in an instant. Her cheek is against the concrete and her arms are bent back behind her, knife abandoned on the ground. An angry groan leaves her lips as she kicks her legs, and Yeonjun knows if looks could kill, they would all be dead.

“Now that that’s sorted.” Yeonjun groans, motioning for Soobin to grab her knife. The taller boy snatches it up off the ground before walking forward and pressing the heel of his boot against the girl’s lower back. She lets out a moan in pain before glaring up at him.

“I swear to god I’ll kill you.” She seethes, breathing shakily.

“Sure sweetheart,” Soobin rolls his eyes, giving Yeonjun a grin, “But it looks like we’re in charge now. And the question I wanna know is. . .”

Soobin pauses, lips inching up into a smirk now. Yeonjun mirrors his expression.

“Just who do you think you are?”

A/N: PLS ignore any mistakes there may be - it’s 1 am and I haven’t proof read, lol. Enjoy!!!

[kleepyourfriendsclose]

So I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wrote a chapter to a fanfic I’m thinking of writing. I got the idea from @lovesduffstevenadlerandnikkisixx and it’s based around this pic.

Here’s chapter one, let me know if any of you are interested and if so what I should call it :) I’m by no means a writer...

It's been a whole year since you had last saw your childhood best friend. He had decided to pack up his things and to move to LA and try to make it. There wasn't anything left for him in Cleveland, and you both knew it. But it did suck to have your "person" leave. He'd always envisioned bigger and better things for himself, music, drums were his passion. Besides, you thought, maybe the space would be healthy for the two of you. You adored Steven, but it was clear that his feelings for you had plateaued, and that you saw nothing more for the two of you than just being lifelong best friends. You thought maybe that was a contributing reason as to why he moved away. There really was nothing left for him here, and you knew that he was really hurting, and longing for a love that you couldn't provide.

After a year of begging you to come for a visit, you decide to bite the bullet and to go spend the summer with him. Besides, you really did miss your best friend, and a year had to have been more than enough time for him to move on or find someone new... right? You pack everything you need into a few duffle bags, your clothes, some makeup and toiletries, you throw them in the trunk and head off on your journey.

After a couple days of driving and staying in shitty motels for rest you were finally greeted by the "Welcome to Los Angeles" sign. You pull off onto the first exit you see, and pull into a gas station to fill the near empty tank. After the tank was full and you had a drag from a cigarette, you walk over to the payphone. You dig in your pockets and find a quarter, insert into the slot, and diall Steven's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Stevie, I finally made it to the city! I'm a little lost though, I'm at a shell off exit 119, where do I go from here?" There was a pause.

"Oh shit you really came!" He couldn't disguise the excitement in his voice, "Hop back onto the highway, take exit 122, turn left on main st then right on Duke, it's the tall brick building on the right. Ring buzzer 119 and I'll let you in."

"Okay, cool. I'll see you in a few!" You took the receiver away from your ear to hang it up, Steven blurts,

"You don't know how excited I am to see you and introduce you to the boys, Y/N." There was another pause.

"See you soon." You hung up the receiver.

After about 10 more minutes of driving you saw a brick building on the right, exactly where he explained it would be. You parked the car, threw your duffle bags over your shoulder, walked up to the front door and rang the buzzer. While you waited to be let in, you stopped to look at your surroundings. This wasn't the type of neighbourhood you pictured when envisioning California. The house, if you could call it that, across the street was boarded up, and there were smashed vodka bottles on the sidewalk. You could see a shadow appearing down the hall, that turned out to be Steven. He flung open the door, tossed your bags aside and picked you up and squeezed you tight.

"It's so good to see you, you have no idea..." He sighed. You took in his smell, it brought back so many memories that you hold dear to your heart. It felt so good to see him again.

"I missed you too, Stevie" You punched him in the shoulder. Trying to assert the boundaries early on. He picked up your bags, and motioned for you to follow him down the hallway.

"The guys from the band are staying with me," He opened the door, and there were 4 guys sitting around the main room, some with guitars, others with only cigarettes in their hands. "Hey guys, Y/N finally made it!" He grinned. You assessed the guys in the room and immediately the one with the dark hair and eyes caught your attention. He looked up at you through his bangs, as he quietly picked away at an acousitc guitar. He was breath taking, and you felt your stomach flutter.

"Hey." Was all you said. You weren't shy, per se. But meeting new people, especially those as beautiful as the ones you were in the presence of now, brought out a shyness in you, that otherwise didn't exist.

"You're real!" One of the guys laughed. He had long strawberry blond hair and wasn't holding a guitar.

"Shut up, Axl." Steven huffed. Axl, huh? What a name. "Izzy, Duff and Slash." Steven motioned at each of the guys. Izzy was the dreamy one, still picking away. Duff was sitting down, but you could tell he was tall and skinny. He had blonde hair that had been teased into a mess, topped with a cop style hat. Slash's hair was something of its own. In fact, you couldn't see his eyes under all of his hair. He was leaning back on a chair blowing smoke clouds into the air. Now that you were inside, you took in your surroundings once again. You noticed a cockroach scurry across the floor. This was going to be an interesting summer.

[allicekitty13]

Escape Route

“It was a sentiment Alice could relate to; after all, less than a week ago, she'd abandoned everything in her life to hit the road. Although, in her own case, retuning would be much harder. Charlotte had a loving and accepting family who only wanted what was best for her to return to. She envied the woman slightly; if she'd grown up with even a quarter of the support Charlotte had, maybe she would still be at NYU right now. But those weren't the cards she'd been dealt.“ Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

It was dark, the night only illuminated by the streetlamps and light peeking out the few windows scattered throughout the apartment buildings lining the alleyway. Not many people were awake at such a late hour; usually, she wouldn't be either. On an average night, she would be asleep, getting ample rest for classes the next morning. Tonight, however, Alice was sitting in her car, hands tightly clenching the steering wheel internally debating if she really could do this. She was already so close, so near to her goal. A goal that had been festering inside for months now—possibly even years if she were to be honest. 

That afternoon Alice had done the unthinkable by dropping out of school mid-semester. Just a few hours ago she had packed up as many belongings as she could possibly fit into her small two-door Honda Civic. Alice had been sitting there in the driver's seat, building up the final shreds of her courage ever since. If she were to follow through on this plan her roommate, Bella, would come home to find Alice's bedroom cleared out alone with her abandoned call phone sitting on the bedside table. It was likely by now full of notifications of missed calls and angry voicemails.

Alice admittedly felt terrible for the girl. Bella was sweet, always kind, and didn't deserve to have this sprung upon her. She would be the one who had to deal with the questions following Alice's disappearance. Worst of all, poor Bella would have to answer to Alice's father in the coming days. But Alice knew if she'd warned her friend in person, Bella would have tried to stop her; she likely would have succeeded. So Alice had written a letter left next to the phone apologizing and trying to explain that she was okay. That Alice needed to do this. She begged her friend to understand and forgive her, pleaded in written words not to come looking.

The consequences that would be placed upon Bella were the only thing causing Alice to hesitate. There was still time to change her mind, to take the responsible course of action and continue down the path laid out by her father. She could easily go back upstairs, tear up the letter, and put her belongings back in place. She could call Edgar with some made-up excuse; he would pull some strings to have her reinstated as a student. Alice could resume her life as usual, albeit with her father looking at her with slightly more disdain than usual. 

Alice shook her head furiously at the thought as though she could forcibly remove the doubts from her mind. This was something she needed to do, something she'd wanted for quite a while. To run away from her life, from her past. To start over someplace fresh, where nobody knew who she was. Someplace Edgar Brandon had no control, where she wouldn't be haunted by ghosts of the past.

So, despite the nervousness of the unknown still sitting like a weight in her stomach Alice finally started the car. She was headed off, to where? She didn't know; that was something she could figure out along the way.

---

Alice had been on the road for a few days, driving aimlessly in whatever direction struck her fancy. She took only backroads traveling through small farm towns and past long forgotten tourist traps. In Pennsylvania and Indiana, she'd found cheap cash only motels that didn't ask too many questions to get a nights rest. Her diet had consisted of mostly rest stop junk food. Occasionally she would stop at the occasional diner for something close to nutritions. She was now in Iowa, and the meter on her gas tank was bordering dangerously close to empty. Being so far from the highways and interstate, gas stations were few and far between, luckily though a sign on the roadside indicated there was a rest stop just a few miles out and so she made her way east to fuel up. 

Alice pulled into the parking lot and proceeded to drive up to the nearest of two gas pumps. A relic of a different time, it was an older style that she'd only seen in films on the classic movie channel. A sign was attached to the surface with duct tape instructing customers to venture inside to pre-pay for their gad. A reasonable request judging by the lack of space to insert a credit card, an option the woman would prefer to avoid anyhow. Accessing her bank account at the moment would leave a digital paper trail leading anyone looking for Alice directly to her location. Although chances were relatively high that Edgar wouldn't actually be looking for her, it wasn't a chance Alice was willing to take.

So, she pulled her denim jacket tighter against her body to brace herself against the harsh midwestern autumn winds as she made her way into the small timeworn building near the pumps. It was apparent that 'Bier's gas and go' had seen better days. The roof needed retiling, as evidenced by the barren spots sprinkled across the surface. A vintage coca-cola sign hung in the window. If a collecter were to ever venture off the interstate and stop by the old station, they'd likely pay a fortune for it despite the worn, sun-bleached condition. 

Inside, the owners had made decent use of the cramped space in a half-hearted attempt to keep up with the times. A table with a single chair was tucked away in one corner next to an out of date newspaper dispenser. Upon closer inspection, it became apparent that it had been out of use for years as the price per paper was set at .90 cents and the date on the periodical displayed in the machine was for June 13th of 1997. Despite the clear signs of a business on its last legs, the shelves were stocked with a small array of fresh products that the few customers passing through might require. Bags of chips were placed near the back of the store, a few boxes of candy bars sat on the checkout counter, and a belly cooler was pushed up against one wall stocked with soda, juice, and water.

A blonde woman just a few inches taller than Alice was leaning against the checkout counter, holding a backpack close to her chest as she chatted with the shops' only other inhabitant. A man, whose height towered over that of both women, was stocking cigarettes onto a shelf behind the register. Both parties looked up upon Alice's entrance, the man looking bored, yes surprised likely at having two customers within the premises in one day if his surroundings were any indication. The woman's eyes lit up, and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth, pressing it between her teeth as Alice approached the counter, paid for her gas, and received instruction from the man on how to operate the vintage pumps.

Alice said her thank yous, never one to forget her manners, and headed back outside. She began to pump her gas, grateful for Riley's instructions as operating the older pump was a foreign concept to the woman who'd never seen, let alone used one of this nature. Just as Alice returned the nozzle to its receptacle, the woman from inside exited the building. She looked around the lot before spotting Alice and headed directly over to where the woman was standing.

"Listen," She opened with a tinge of hesitation in her voice. "This might sound odd, but I was kind of wondering where you're headed." 

"You're right; that does sound odd." Alice had seen her fair share of horror movies. This was about the time she knew it would be a good idea to excuse herself, get back into her car, and get away fast. Yet, something in the woman's eyes that looked a lot like hope caused her to go against better judgment as she hesitantly questioned the woman, "Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to get back home, to Texas. Been hitchhiking my way, kinda hopin' you might be kind enough to offer a ride it's not terribly far out of your way?"

"What's your name?"

"Charlotte, friends call me Charlie." The woman answered with a reluctantly hopeful half-grin.

"Well, Charlie, you're in luck since I've just been driving aimlessly up until now, and I wouldn't mind having a clear destination."

Charlotte thanked Alice profusely as she climbed into the passenger's side of the vehicle and placed her backpack on the floor between her feet. As the duo ventured back onto the backroads of the midwestern United States, Alice couldn't help but wonder if it was fate that brought the two girls together, that the small run-down gas station had been exactly where she'd needed to be.

---

Charlotte made for excellent company causing Alice's time on the road to become much more fun. She now had someone to talk to as her new companion was exceptionally vocal. Charlotte talked a lot about her family, specifically her older half-sister, who recently married and moved from their hometown of Dripping Springs, Texas to Tennessee with her new husband. The woman seemed to be close with her sister bringing her up in many of their conversations.

Halfway to Texas, they crashed for the night as a motel in Oklahoma. After a few drinks, Charlotte opened up about her older brother. The two had gotten into a fight just before the woman moved away. Her brother, Jasper, hadn't thought Charlotte was mature enough to leave home. He felt that she was idolizing the city and was worried she would get hurt. Charlotte argued that Jasper and Rosalie had babied her their entire lives, and she would never learn to be self-sufficient with Jasper and their mother watching over her and fixing every problem that arose in her life. Unfortunately, moving across the country on a whim had been too much for the woman to handle, and she wasn't looking forward to telling her brother he had been right.

Apparently, this was the reason she'd been hitchhiking rather than asking her family to help purchase a plane ticket. Charlotte knew that logically her always supportive and loving family would welcome her back with open arms. That they weren't the 'I told you so' type. Still, she was nervous about what would happen when she returned and had hoped that by now, she might have figured out what to say.

The next day, Charlotte was uncharacteristically quiet. She grew stiffer and stiffer as the car crept closer to Dripping Springs. Alice offered to extend their trip slightly, pointing out that she had nowhere to be, and it would give the woman more time to clear her head. Charlotte contemplated the offer but, in the end, decided that there would never be a perfect time to do this. That she would never truly be ready to crawl back home or to admit she was wrong. Besides, she knew her mother and brother would be kind about the situation. Knew that everything would be okay; still, that didn't make it any easier.

It was a sentiment Alice could relate to; after all, less than a week ago, she'd abandoned everything in her life to hit the road. Although, in her own case, retuning would be much harder. Charlotte had a loving and accepting family who only wanted what was best for her to return to. She envied the woman slightly; if she'd grown up with even a quarter of the support Charlotte had, maybe she would still be at NYU right now. But those weren't the cards she'd been dealt. So, rather than feel sorry for herself, she refocussed on comforting her friend in the passenger's seat who had a monumental task to tackle in just a few more miles.

---

Charlotte instructed Alice to pull over next to a dingy looking bar on the main street when the pair finally arrived in Dripping Springs. She explained that this was where her brother worked and was most likely to be at this time of day. They sat parked for a moment; the air filled with tension as Charlotte stared at the bar from the bar window. Finally, she turned back to Alice, nervousness apparent in her expression, and asked if her friend would mind coming inside with her as it might be easier to do this with someone around for support. 

The bar was dimly lit, the only source of lighting coming from the numerous neon beer signs scattered about the walls. There were booths in every corner, and four tables surrounded by chairs took up half of the floor space. The other half of the room was occupied by a pool table as well as a cleared out area near the jukebox that acted as a dance space. Behind the bar stood a man who occupied himself with dusting off the rack on which numerous liquor bottles sat. 

"Jas?" Charlotte called out, causing the man to startle; he dropped the rag he was holding and spun around in shock, staring at his sister, who gazed back sheepishly. The room was quiet for a long time as the siblings stood caught in a silent conversation held via eye contact accompanied only by the ambient music playing from Jasper's phone sitting next to him on the counter.

"You were right. I couldn't...." She trailed off, looking down at the counter with shaking breath. 

Jasper only nodded in response as he reached into the belly cooler next to him for two beers, which he slid across the counter to the girls. "So, who's your friend?"

Jasper sat down with the girls, catching up with his sister and learning of her adventures with Alice. He was grateful to the woman for bringing Charlotte home but make sure to let her know she was an idiot for picking up a stranger at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.

As Alice got to know the man, she found herself drawn to him; he was attractive with his tall stature, messy blonde hair, and piercing green eyes. He was smart, witty, and it was endearing to see how easily he reconciled with Charlotte and how much genuine interest he took in her life. This was a real family, the type of relationship she'd tried so hard to cultivate with her own sister but had never managed to accomplish with their father constantly spinning his eldest daughter out to be a villain.  

Alice started fighting sleep as the night wore on, and customers began to file in, diverting Jasper's attention from the family reunion. She made a comment about needing to look for a motel for the night, and Charlotte looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. 

"No, you're definitely not."

"Char, I need to sleep."

"Not in a motel; after everything you've done for me, the least I can do is offer you the guest room at our place."

"You mean my place?" Jasper cut in, shooting his sister an amused glare before turning to look at Alice with fondness in his eyes. "She's right though, guest rooms yours for as long as you need if you'd like it."

Back at the Whitlock ranch in the guest room, Alice lay in a comfortable bed for the first time in days. She was tossing over the idea of staying in this town for a while. Before reriting to their rooms for the night Charlotte had practically begged her new friend to hang around. Alice hadn't been sure what she was looking for when she had set out on this journey. But having made a genuine friend in Charlotte and the way Jasper treated her with nothing but kindness made her feel as though just maybe she'd found it. It was too soon to determine anything for certain, but as she passed into sleep thinking about blonde hair and green eyes, she decided that it wouldn't hurt to explore the option.