#really satisfying to recognize a film reference

[sharpth1ng]

SHARPY HE DOES THE KNIFE THING HEBTOGJABDOEHF IN THE FNAF MOVIE HE DOES THE KNIFE THING

YEAH I HEARD! Its really cool they did an homage like that

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Romulan Way" review

Novel from 1987, by Diane Duane and Peter Morwood, and the second part of the Rihannsu series. Though it largely deals with a new story and characters, there's definitely an advantage in reading first the previous novel in the series ("My Enemy, My Ally"), since there are references and returning characters from there.

The book is a blend of novel and historical account for the Romulans (or should I say "Rihannsu"?), with chapters alternating between the history reports of a Federation spy across the Neutral Zone, and the present adventures surrounding the characters. The history chapters may be a little difficult to get into at first, because they read like... well, like history. But they're actually pretty interesting, and develop Romulan history from their sundering with Vulcans, to the days of the Star Empire. They're full of rich details about Romulan politics, legends and mythology, that still stay true to the Roman "flavor" of the series' aliens. And they introduce Surak's charismatic pupil, S'task, who could be considered the "father" of Romulan culture. However, I'm not sure if much of this was eventually incorporated into canon, which is a shame, really. The main story itself is brief and simple, but I found it quite compelling, specially in the characters' interactions (I really liked the relationship between the main character and her lord).

McCoy is at the center of the plot (with Kirk and Spock nowhere to be seen), but the true protagonist is Arrhae, the servant manager of a Romulan noble house that has lived better days. As usual with Duane's novels, there's an appearance of Lt. Naraht the Horta, here playing an important role at the end. And in contrast with the honorable Romulans that still value their traditions, we also have the sadistic villain, who's after McCoy this time.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read with great characters and occasional touches of humor, and it made me care more for the Romulans. For the summary, I'm just going to focus on the main plot, leaving aside the historical account.

Spoilers under the cut:

We're first introduced to Arrhae t'Khellian (the servant manager for the house of H'daen tr'Khellian) in her everyday activities. Her lord comes from a noble lineage, but currently has little political influence, so he's always searching for allies (with barely any success). As for Arrhae, her position as house manager gives her a certain authority and trust from her lord, so she's not exactly "just another servant".

Meanwhile, McCoy is aboard a civilian starship, headed for some rutinary, academic assignment, when the ship is attacked and boarded by Romulans (led by Commander t'Radaik and the shady Subcommander tr'Annhwi). The Romulans are after the ship's cargo and certain important passengers. So McCoy offers himself as hostage, since he's an Enterprise officer that has commited many "crimes" against the Empire. And he's surprisingly calm about the whole affair (also, strangely enough, his full name is given as "Leonard Edward McCoy", despite the third film establishing it as "Leonard H."). The Romulans capture the ship, satisfied with this hostage, and tow it to Romulus (here called ch'Rihan). Though there's a sudden explosion in the cargo holds while they're in orbit. After this, McCoy is taken as a political prisoner, and entrusted to H'daen to take care of him until his trial (read, execution).

At the house, McCoy seems to recognize Arrhae, and makes a discreet gesture to her, that she half answers. It's then revealed that Arrhae was in fact a Federation spy (surgically modified to appear Romulan), but had become so assimilated into the local culture, that she had forgotten her previous identity. McCoy's signal stirs her memories, but the sudden remembrance is too much of a shock for her, and she refuses to acknowledge it. McCoy is given a guest room at house Khellian, and treated decently. But he's at first unsuccesful in his attempts to reach Arrhae. That was, in fact, his true mission: checking on this particular agent, that had stopped sending reports a while ago (and that's why he was so calm upon capture; it was all arranged). The danger, however, is real, since he's going to be executed in a few days. And on top of that, Subcommander tr'Annhwi gets awfully interested in the doctor, and offers tons of money to H'daen to buy him. Arrhae begs her lord to refuse the offer, since tr'Annhwi just wants McCoy for his sadistic entertainment (I'm not sure it's ever explained why he hates McCoy so much, though). Wavering at first, the Romulan lord finally understands that selling a defenseless man for that would be dishonorable and a breach in trust, so he refuses.

On the other hand, there are also people who're trying to help the prisoner. Arrhae is surprised to find a talking rock one day in McCoy's quarters: Naraht, who was inside the ship's cargo hold, arranged the explosion, and fell through the atmosphere, to later burrow his way to the house. And in the city, she's approached by a sympathizer of Ael (from the previous novel), who wants to help McCoy escape. Arrhae is torn between helping an innocent man and keeping her calm life in Romulus, as she's torn between her two identities. But finally, she agrees to arrange a meeting between the sympathizers and McCoy. The doctor refuses to escape just yet; Starfleet has implanted a microchip in his brain to gather information, and he needs to attend the trial in front of the Senate to do so. But he asks them, nonetheless, to send certain codes to specific coordinates in space.

The day of the trial arrives, and McCoy is brought to the Senate with Arrahe. He invokes the Right of Statement to defend himself. Even though it's useless and his sentence is already decided, the statement can be as long as the accused wants, so it serves him to buy time. Thus, McCoy goes on a ridiculously long speech, up to explaining to the Romulans how to make a mint julep. He was already running out of conversation, when finally Naraht makes his grand entrance. Having burrowed all his way from the house to the capital, he has grown to enormous size and wreaks havoc among the senators. In the confusion, McCoy gives Arrahe the chance to return to the Federation. But she has become too accustomed to Romulan culture, and considers this her true home (though I feel the novel should have introduced some personal friends of her; as things are, it doesn't seem she had much of a family there...). Arrhae fakes a escape from McCoy, and charges at Naraht, to make it look as if she's resisting.

At that moment, Ael's ship Bloodwing breaks through the roof of the Senate (led there thanks to the codes sent to her coordinates), and its Commander beams down. Ael has some merciless criticism for the corruption and dishonor of current Romulan politics, and takes the legendary Sword of the Empty Chair (an act which has a great significance once you know the history behind it). After this, Ael, McCoy and Naraht escape in Bloodwing. Tr'Annhwi, however, won't let matters to rest (he's really, really fixated on McCoy), and follows them in his own ship Avenger for a last battle above the city, before being blown to pieces.

In the aftermath, Arrahe is elevated to senatorial status, in recognition of her "brave" stance against the Horta. And she will use her power in the future to mend fences between Romulans and the Federation.

Spirk Meter: 0/10*. Kirk and Spock aren't even there!!

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[artbyblastweave]

I’ve actually got a lot of sympathy for zombie works that go out of their way to not use the z-word. Less sympathy for when the marketing people or writers get huffy about whether they’re writing a zombie thing, of course. Own what you’re doing. But I think making “zombie” a diagetic term, one adopted within the setting, can put you in a really rough spot, particularly if it’s a setting that takes the horror of the situation really really seriously. “Zombie” isn’t folkloric in the same way as Vampires or Werewolves. There’s a source material that’s enshrined in film and science fiction canon and out of universe popular culture. People know about George Romero! So if people within the setting do start calling them zombies- like, two hours ago a character had to beat his mother-in-law to death in front of his screaming children using a fire poker. How easily can you, the writer, have that character adopt the easily-recognized pop-cultural “zombie” referent for the monsters outside, without it coming across as dissonant? How can you introduce that term to the character’s vocabulary without having it sound like a wink and a nudge, thus changing the overall tone of the show or the film? And from here we get into edge cases, where a stories version of zombism sufficiently breaks the mold, mechanically or thematically, that insisting on calling these things zombies feels like an imposition on the story, even if that’s still clearly the broad genre. (I’m thinking here in particular of 28 Days Later, Dead Space, and The Last of Us.) But on the other hand, it’s equally weird if no one says it, and if the story is set at the point where some in-universe terminology has evolved for the infected, you have to fight for your life to make it sound naturalistic and not like the result of the writers room fighting for their lives to come up with something to call these things besides “zombies.” This is an admittedly minor but pernicious stylistic problem that is very, very hard to resolve in a satisfying way!

[sydmarch]

there's been too many times i've clicked an old link & it no longer goes anywhere so i'm gonna begin the tedious yet satisfying process of archiving some interviews that i reference frequently starting with this one

Like the offspring of any revered icon, Brandon Cronenberg’s last name grabs hold of your attention. Indeed, the 33-year-old Canadian filmmaker is the son of David Cronenberg, genre cinema’s great auteur of psychodrama and body horror. And like his father, Brandon expresses a strong interest in the inextricable brain-body link, not to mention the dark crevices of society’s underbelly. Antiviral, Brandon’s feature debut as writer and director, is a sci-fi satire with a sharp conceit worthy of that unmistakable surname, and a stylistic strength that promises more compelling work from its maker. Uniquely skewering our ever-evolving (or devolving) obsessions with celebrity, the movie, now playing in limited release, tells of a world intended to appear not very far from our own, wherein a facility known as the Lucas Clinic perpetuates the ultimate form of star worship, infecting rabid fans with diseases harvested from the cells of the über-famous (what’s more, delis on corners sell “steaks” grown from celebrity muscle cells, so die-hards can literally consume their favorite A-Listers). At the center of this seriocomic nightmare is Syd March (Caleb Landry Jones), a Lucas employee who also moonlights as part of the superstar-sickness black market. Things turn especially ugly when Syd comes down with the same bug afflicting America’s most-wanted sweetheart.

In person, Brandon is deeply humble and unassuming, a boyish-looking guy with his father’s grey-blue eyes, and a few piercings that project just the right amount of edge. He’s remarkably articulate about the themes his film explores, and he proves just how fully he mulled over the movie’s ideas, which, according to him, aren’t that far-fetched at all. In a high-rise in the heart of Midtown Manhattan, in a small office whose unremarkable sterility calls to mind Antiviral‘s stark aesthetic, Brandon chats at length about the psychology of fandom, the time he cozied up with a primate on one of his dad’s sets, and his thoughts on the trajectory of celebrity culture, which, if not literally, has surely already gone viral.

Filmmaker: There’s a lot of pointed dialogue in Antiviral in regard to celebrity, such as, “What does it mean to deserve to be famous?” and, “Celebrities are not people, they’re group hallucinations.” How much of this is your own perspective? Do you believe that certain celebrities don’t deserve to be famous? Do you see them as being real people?

Brandon Cronenberg: A lot of that is me, but it’s also filtered through the character, so not everything said in the film is just directly my own opinion. “Celebrities are not real, they’re group hallucinations”—I do believe that. I think that the majority of people have this idea about a celebrity, but that idea is sort of a culturally constructed thing and kind of a fiction. Because a lot of what’s reported about celebrities is made up, and a lot of our sense of them comes from the media and is sort of unrelated to the human being who is living their own life, and living and dying in this way that’s sort of disconnected from their media double. But I think anyone who’s famous deserves to be famous, only in the sense that this whole criterion for fame is that people recognize you enough to be famous. A lot of people say, “Oh, this person doesn’t deserve to be famous.” What is it really to deserve to be famous? It isn’t an accomplishment. I think fame has always been something other than an accomplishment. It’s sometimes tied to an accomplishment—sometimes people become famous because they accomplish something. But I think it has more to do with the repetition of an image, or of a person, or a name, rather than fulfilling a certain obligation.

Filmmaker: The whole thing must be a more interesting concept for you now, since you’re essentially becoming a celebrity yourself, being a filmmaker in the public eye.

Brandon Cronenberg: That aspect of it is really weird, because going around promoting a film that’s about something like this is kind of strange. But, two things: First of all, as a director, and especially as a Canadian director, I can only become so famous, so I don’t imagine myself getting stalked by paparazzi anytime soon. Also, I think that the film is about the industry of celebrity, which isn’t the same as just celebrity in general, in a sense. I think, for instance, to recognize someone and have respect for them because you like their work, and to take an interest in what they’re doing because of that isn’t unhealthy—I think that’s fine. It’s more that certain level of fanaticism that represents a kind of mania and a kind of delusion that is unhealthy. And tied to that is this increasingly insular industry of celebrity that sort of mass produces fame through reality television, and tries to elevate people to this point where they’re famous and their job is just being famous for a year, or two years. I think that is different from just talking about your film, in that all art, to a certain extent, is a cultural dialogue that you need to engage in as an artist.

Filmmaker: What specific thing in our celebrity-obsessed culture do you see as being most closely linked to the satirical extreme that you go to in Antiviral?

Brandon Cronenberg: I don’t think there is one! [Laughs.] Someone bought John Lennon’s teeth, you know? But that isn’t even just the one thing. Covers of magazines comparing people’s cellulite…[the film is] only a very slight exaggeration. That industry’s pretty insane.

Filmmaker: I read that this idea germinated when you were in film school at 24, and came down with a bad case of the flu. Did a fear of illness or mortality factor heavily into the concept?

Brandon Cronenberg: It wasn’t really a fear of illness, it was more just a moment of seeing disease as something intimate. Because a virus is manufactured, literally, in someone else’s body, by their infected cells, and then gets into your body and penetrates your own cells, and that’s hugely intimate if you think about it on that level. So it was that moment of seeing disease as intimate and trying to think of a character who would see disease as something intimate. We tend to be repulsed by disease, but you could imagine an obsessed fan who would want a celebrity’s virus, or something, as a way of feeling physically connected to them if it were described in those terms—something from their body into your body. Don’t you want that? Someone’s gotta want that.

Filmmaker: You’re 32 now?

Brandon Cronenberg: 33.

Filmmaker: In the the eight or nine years since you first toyed with this idea, the world of celebrity and fan relationships has changed quite a bit, with social media somewhat leveling the field of interaction and things like that. Was there ever a worry that the concept would lose some of its relevance because of that evolution?

Brandon Cronenberg: During editing, a friend of mine sent me this Sarah Michelle Gellar clip where she was on Jimmy Kimmel Live and she was saying that she was worried about singing because she had this cold—she was worried she would infect the entire audience. And then everyone started applauding madly and cheering. So I thought, “Okay, we’re pretty much making a documentary now!” So it’s changed and it hasn’t changed. I’ve been talking about Paris Hilton lately. She’s out of style now, and maybe seems like the obvious, passé celebrity to go to to discuss this sort of thing, but I think, early on, when I was first writing, she was just really becoming very public, and there’s something about that moment, when a lot of people were using the phrase “famous for being famous.” Again, I don’t think fame has ever been inherently bound to accomplishment, but I think she was so just famous for being famous, in a way that everyone recognized, that I think that really fed into the celebrity industry. It was a certain moment in the history of celebrity. Now, to say that she’s famous for being famous is not even interesting anymore, but at the time, people were like, “Haven’t you noticed that Paris Hilton is famous for being famous and isn’t that kind of weird?”

Filmmaker: As the central character, Syd March, Caleb Landry Jones gives a really impressive breakthrough performance, and he looks like a runway model, which amplifies your visual juxtaposition of fashion-magazine chic and body horror. Can you describe how you came to work with him and how he complimented your aesthetic?

Brandon Cronenberg: Sure. His agent had worked with my producer, and when we were looking around for actors, he sent Caleb’s stuff over—some clips from films he’d been in and an audition he’d done for another film. And we all got immediately, really excited because he has that very striking look, and he’s very intense, and a great actor, He really has that thing that some actors have where they’re immediately interesting to watch. Even when they’re doing very mundane things, they’re somehow able to be captivating performers. So we wanted to get him and he wanted to do it, so it worked out nicely. I had actually written the character for a much older actor, and the character was a bit different in my mind, but when I saw Caleb, I wanted to plug into the excitement and roll with it. Now I can’t see that character any other way. He brought a huge amount to it and that was part of developing that character—discovering all of this stuff with him.

Filmmaker: And then, of course, there’s Sarah Gadon, who starred in your father’s Cosmopolis last year, and A Dangerous Method the year before that. Did your father recommend her to you?

Brandon Cronenberg: Well I saw her in A Dangerous Method, and I thought she was great, but I hadn’t met her until we sent her the script. I liked what I saw from her in my dad’s work, and then I asked him, and he said he had a great experience with her. So, whether you’re related to them or not, being able to talk to directors who have worked with actors, it’s a good thing.

Filmmaker: Gadon’s character, Hannah Geist, is the ultimate desirable object in Antiviral, and then there’s also Aria Noble, played by Nenna Abuwa. I was wondering why you didn’t opt to focus on any obsessed-over male celebrities in the film.

Brandon Cronenberg: There are a couple of references, and on the walls there were some male celerities in the office. I guess I was focusing on female celebrities just because of the degree of the fetishy body stuff you get in celebrity news. I mean, you get that with male celebrities, too, but the “who has the worse cellulite?” stuff is always female. The covers of those magazines, the surgical precision with which people fetishize and criticize—it’s particularly extreme for females. But there are both in the film.

Filmmaker: I also read that you had initial interest in writing, painting, and music, and then turned to film because it merges all of those things. How influential was your father, or his work, in that decision?

Brandon Cronenberg: I was less inclined to get into film because of people’s preconceptions about me based on my father and the fact that they assumed I should want to be in film. Like, “Oh, you must love film and want to be in your father’s footsteps!” It was always kind of obnoxious and kind of off-putting. So, I would say it probably took me longer to develop an interest in film because of that, if anything.

Filmmaker: Yeah, the connection must be a bit of a double-edged sword. There’s a clear cache to it, but also this pressure to assert your own voice, and to live up to expectations.

Brandon Cronenberg: I’ve felt that pressure, but only because everyone keeps telling me I should! I didn’t feel any special pressure, but especially now that the film’s done, everyone’s asking me if I feel some special pressure to live up to something, so I’m starting to wonder if I should.

Filmmaker: Well there’s obviously some thematic kinship going on. Did that develop on more of an unconscious level?

Brandon Cronenberg: Yeah, it’s more…I decided when I got into film that I needed to not worry about his career and just do whatever was interesting to me. To actively avoid it would be defining myself in opposition to him and in that way defining myself in terms of his career still. So I just did what I thought was interesting. I mean, he’s my father and we have a close relationship, so the fact that some of our interests overlap is pretty reasonable.

Filmmaker: Growing up, were you on set for a lot of your dad’s projects? Any experiences tied to specific films that stand out as remarkable?

Brandon Cronenberg: I was present to varying degrees. I mean, obviously, a lot of it happened when I was very young, or before I was born, depending on the film. I worked on eXistenZ in the special effects department, so I was very around for that one. Some of the other ones, not so much. I tried to be on set a fair bit for Eastern Promises just because I was already in film school at that point, and wanted to absorb what I could. When I was a kid, the baboon from The Fly sat on my lap. That was a pretty memorable experience! But I don’t think it had an influence on me as a filmmaker. [Laughs.]

Filmmaker: Good stuff. In Anitviral, I noticed you also make passing mention of Henrietta Lacks, who’s made a lot of headlines thanks to Rebecca Skloot’s bestseller, and even recent updates about the continued usage of her cells. Did Lacks’s story strongly influence the film’s concept, or was it just woven into the fabric of it?

Brandon Cronenberg: It didn’t strongly influence it, but it’s just a really interesting idea, I think. Because that relationship between identity and the body is really interesting. I think they’re two very different things, and I think identity is this very theoretical, weird thing that no one has a full grasp on. I don’t think we can perceive ourselves perfectly clearly, but obviously, from the outside, people can’t know us perfectly either, and we’re always in flux. And then you have this body that people associate that identity with, but again, the body is constantly changing, and I find all of that stuff really interesting. And in the film, obviously, there’s the celebrity cell steaks, and the idea that they’re grown from the celebrities. It’s sort of cannibalism, but it’s not quite cannibalism. Are they that meat, or is that another thing? The human being, the body—is that the celebrity, or is the celebrity this cultural idea, this abstract thing? So that was just a really great, real-world example of that sort of thing, but it wasn’t at the core of the film.

Filmmaker: You mention in press notes that you’re naturally reclusive, much like Syd March. How much do you identify with the character? Beyond, you know, his activities…

Brandon Cronenberg: Well, I definitely put some of myself in there. But in weird ways. I was going to college in this horrible city in Ontario, called London, Ontario, and it was hard to get good food there. So, for a while, I was eating a lot of egg salad sandwiches and orange juice. And when I was thinking about the character, I thought that for a character whose main interest in his body is this disease, I could see how food could become just a purely functional thing—just a necessity that he takes no pleasure in. So he has these units of food—orange juice paired with egg salad sandwiches. Interestingly, Caleb—because he likes to live the character as much as he can—was eating all egg salad sandwiches and orange juice when he initially got to Canada, and then he got really sick of them. So he was worried that when it came to doing those scenes, he wouldn’t be able to eat the egg salad because he was so grossed out by it at that point. But apparently the props department makes solid egg salad, so… [Laughs.]

Filmmaker: There’s a lot of talk in the film about the human face. Can you discuss your fascination with it?

Brandon Cronenberg: Yeah. There’s a line in the film that says “[the face] has a high information resolution.” I think it’s true. There’s such a huge amount of information that we communicate consciously and unconsciously through our facial expressions. And apparently that’s why we so commonly see faces in clouds and in rock formations—because our brains are tuned to look for faces, and look toward that information. Apparently with zebras, it’s the stripes. We see zebras as just striped animals, but they really identify each other through the stripes and they can really recognize quickly individual markings, and that’s a huge identifying factor for them. So I think the way we see things depends greatly on our biology.

Filmmaker: Antiviral speaks for itself, but how would you sum up your current view of our celebrity culture? Where do you see it going? Is it on a hopeless downward spiral? Is all this transparency just becoming more and more unhealthy? Is it getting worse? Better?

Brandon Cronenberg: I don’t know! I think it’s a version of something, a kind of broader, older human tendency that we have to deify each other. One example I tend to fall back on is sainthood. The saints were sort of celebrities. They were people elevated to the status of gods, almost, and there’s the iconography—the recognizable repetition of images—and the same physical fetishism. There are the old Italian churches that claim to have the finger bone of such-and-such saint, and it’s imbued with this great power, these relics. So I think we do that, for some reason. I’m not exactly sure why. I think it’s hard to predict where celebrity culture is going, just because I don’t think it’s unique to our time and place. Again, I think the industrial aspect of that is something that’s fairly unique, or that’s at least becoming more prominent—the manufacturing of celebrity to make money. And I assume that will, just by the nature of industry, go as far as it possibly can, but it’s hard to predict. I don’t know if it will implode eventually. I think we’ll always have some version of celebrity.

[moorishflower]

when I see that you posted for the dnd movie: *rolls up sleeves* guess I have a movie to watch

Oh man anon you SURE DO. If you have any familiarity with D&D (5e specifically, though any edition will give you some enjoyment here) THIS IS THE MOVIE FOR YOU. If you're familiar with the Forgotten Realms books (Drizzt Do'Urden, Wulfgar the barbarian, Artemis Entreri, etc.), THIS IS THE MOVIE FOR YOU. If you enjoy comedy-fantasy movies in the vein of The 10th Kingdom and Willow, THIS MOVIE IS FOR YOU. The characters are familiar tropes without being one-dimensional, the villain is very sexy, the practical effects are amazing and numerous, the landscapes are GORGEOUS (it was filmed in Ireland!) and for those who are into D&D, there are lots and LOTS of references. There is even a reference to Critical Role (it is very specific and so I do believe it's an actual reference and not just coincidence lol).

Basically it was my childhood brought to life because I grew up on the Drizzt books and also I have spent the last like 4 years playing TONS of 5e so to recognize a lot of the campaign references (the Cult of the Dragon and Themberchaud!) was very very cool.

I highly recommend this movie if you're looking for a good time. Don't expect a lot of serious grimdark adventuring, this is VERY much in the vein of lower level d&d adventures where there's still room for a lot of fun and zany plans and failure that doesn't end in death, and which progresses pretty naturally to a really satisfying high stakes boss battle at the end!

[actually-autisticc]

My thoughts on the Super Mario Movie

My autistic ass needs someone to talk to about this film and I have nobody. I know I don’t post as often anymore on here but I need to let this energy out. Here’s what did work and didn’t work

What did work:

the animation: DAMN. It looked amazing. I loved how smooth they looked on screen and the details of the character models, the background, etc. You can tell they put a lot of love into it. It felt so nice to see our favorite video game characters on screen like this. All of the references were such a joy to find and recognize. It’s also crazy that Mario came from being an 8bit model to this glorious, detailed, 3D model. And some scenes “camera” moved in a way that would be in a game. When Mario and Luigi were on their way to their first plumbing job, the “camera” moved sideways as the first Mario games were side-scrolling. When Toad and Mario were heading to the castle and poor Mario was being thrown around, the “camera” moved around like I guess the newer games? I mean it looked like Super Mario Odyssey but there could be other games, I haven’t played every single one (now I want to). Really cool attention to detail. My autistic ass loves attention to detail. The models looked good as well like Bowser’s scales and the brothers’ clothing. Funny how 3D animation wasn’t as detailed before like with Veggietales and Toy Story 1 but now we have HAIR. You get it.

The music: Some parts hit, some didn’t. I loved the orchestral remixes of our beloved songs. When the kart scene came on, I immediately recognized the music and felt PUMPED, especially when they were making the karts and I heard the Mario Kart 8 theme. I wanted to jump out of my seat but couldn’t cause I didn’t wanna be weird. Hearing the theme songs as well felt satisfying. It scratched that itch I didn’t know I needed to be scratched. I found myself listening to the soundtrack right after. I’m glad they chose 80’s songs rather than fucking Doja Cat or whatever but it still threw me off hearing Take On Me, Holding Out for a Hero, and Mr. Blue Sky. (Cmon Shrek did Holding Out better. No topping it) As much as I love those songs, I remembered that this is an Illumination movie so of course they’d have popular songs. If they left the pop songs in the human world and kept the Mario songs in the Mushroom kingdom, etc, it would’ve made a little more sense. No Sleep til Brooklyn was good tho, made sense cause they live in Brooklyn and they were in the human world.

Chris Pratt: Yes, I know everyone was skeptical of Chris Pratt playing Mario. I love Chris in Guardians of the Galaxy as Peter Quill so I didn’t have much doubt but since he is a celebrity and you know how movies these days (mainly Illumination) love to get big names in their films. I wasn’t disappointed. He was good, not bad. As much as I love Martinet’s iconic Mario, I don’t think I’d be able to handle hearing it the whole time. It’s iconic but let’s be real hearing “let’s-a-go!” the whole time is a bit jarring. Mario’s from Brooklyn so that’s what Chris tried. And his Wahoo! was good! You knew he didn’t want to ruin this character because of how much it holds. He TRIED. And Martinet as Giuseppe saying “it’s a perfect!” Felt like he was sharing the torch with Chris. He squished all the critics doubts by saying “he’s Mario too, it’s fine. Deal with it.” Hearing the voice made me smile so wide, it was like hearing an old friend. I think he even said that doing Mario’s voice too much hurt so we don’t want him to feel any pain for our sake! We all owe Chris an apology. You did great bro

Seth Rogan: I love DK. He’s big, loud, goofy, and strong. Seth did that right and honestly idk who else would play him. Hearing Seth’s iconic laugh made me laugh, idk who can hate it. It fit DK as it kind of…sounded ape-like? The whole fight between Mario and DK was straight out of a game. I loved the interaction between DK and Mario. They’re enemies at first but soon, they respect each other as in the games. I wish that wasn’t the whole character development between two characters in the movie, I wish it was Mario & Luigi, Mario and toad, or Mario and Peach. Hell, even Mario and Bowser. But this is only the first movie so we’ll see more

Anna-Taylor Joy: not much to say about her. I think Peach was fun and I’m glad they didn’t go the “damsel in distress” or “girl boss” route. We get it, we’re becoming SOMEWHAT better in terms of shit like that but god we don’t need it every time. Peach was a badass, she cared for her kingdom and subjects, and she was sweet. That’s Peach! It wasn’t the “I don’t need no man” or forced relationship with Mario and that was good. I loved Peach’s racing outfit too and all the power ups. Peach was awesome, I’m glad they didn’t ruin her

Charlie Day: I haven’t seen much of him but wow I loved his Luigi! I always loved Luigi, he was always the b guy and he deserves a lot of love. He’s adorable. I wish Luigi had more of an interaction with Bowser. We could’ve gotten a lot of funny scenes with them together (of course it’d be fuel to the shipping fire) and it was cut too short. I mean, bowser didn’t need MUCH from Luigi, he just needed information so it wouldn’t make sense why he’d keep him around when he could throw him in the dungeon with Luma, the penguins, etc. And the whole thing with Mario and Luigi “sticking together” was nice but…they weren’t together AS much? Yes, Bowser kidnapped him but idk it didn’t really feel so emotional. Their team up at the end was amazing of course, had the biggest smile with the star music on. Luigi must be protected

Keegan-Michael Key: His Toad was good! Kind of wished we saw more of Toad and Mario together but he was the comic relief. Sucked he wasn’t in it as much but maybe next movie.

Jack Black: MY MAN. GOD HE KILLED IT. Was that any surprise? No, everyone knew Jack was gonna bring his a-game and he did. Bowser’s singing was amazing, I was cracking up during that scene. PEACHES PEACHES PEACHES aah it’s good. I loved how Bowser went from his usual scary self to a big sweetheart who just wants to love someone. Yea, he did threaten to kill Peach’s kingdom if she didn’t marry him but hey he said he wouldn’t if she agreed! You can absolutely tell Jack loved his role and that’s so important in movies for it to turn out well. Honestly, I’d say Bowser was my favorite in the whole movie! (Ngl, Bowser kinda..) Bowser was intimidating at parts, especially with Luigi. He was a lot scarier than I remembered and damn he is a power house. Im surprised that I didn’t see him utilize his shell and spin with it but whatever.

The story: yes there wasn’t much of a big plot. Do I care? Not really. It’s Mario! You don’t really need a plot per se because you already know the characters, you know the concept of Super Mario. To me, it was as if I was playing a really well animated game. It was fast, fun, and left me with a warm fuzzy feeling. The plot WAS Bowser coming, Mario and Luigi starting a company and not feeling like they’re on top. You don’t need a different story with Mario. Yes, this movie wasn’t on the level of Into the Spider-Verse or Puss in Boots like we were expecting but it didn’t need to be. I had a great time with a story or not

The sound effects: god, the little kid in me wanted to SCREAM. It felt so satisfying to hear all the sounds we hear in the games from hitting a shell, hitting the mystery box, or landing on the flag pole at the end of a level. They really hit the nail with them. And Luigi’s ringtone was GameCube!!

Oh yeah I loved Kamek’s voice. He sounded exactly how I pictured it. He was great. Loved the scene of him dressing up as Peach and getting ANGRY that he didn’t kiss Bowser

What didn’t work:

The slow motion moments: this was when I remembered “oh yea, illumination made this.” Some of the moments were fine with Mario giving Peach a side eye (with rizz). That was funny. But all the other times, it felt like the screaming goats in Thor Love and Thunder. In other words, it was used too much. To me, the slow-motion parts are just “haha, their voice is deep and slow. They move slowly. Haha funny joke.”

The songs: I did say the songs worked but they didn’t at the same time. I LOVED hearing all the familiar songs and sounds from the games. I liked the 80’s songs as Mario was made in the 80’s but it didn’t fit movie. As I said, it would’ve been better if they kept the 80’s songs in the human world and the Mario-esque songs in the Mushroom Kingdom, etc. But Illumination has gotta…illuminate I guess

The pacing: I felt like it was TOO quick. They go from Mario ending up in the Mushroom Kingdom and he finds Toad with barely an introduction and they rush to the castle. Then Mario finds Peach who just so happens to be going to the same place at the right time. There wasn’t enough time to breathe and there could’ve been so many good character interactions and development if they made it longer. We could have had more of Bowser and Luigi, Mario and Toad and Peach. I mean there are lots of characters and they have yet to introduce Yoshi, the Koopalings, and Daisy so hopefully it will be better in the second.

Illumination: I’m not too crazy with this studio. I love Despicable Me 1&2 but the rest are just meh. There were moments in the movie that were just so like this studio that it somewhat felt weird. The plumbing scene was funny but I think that is a good example. The whole thing with the dog being malicious was an Illumination thing. So were some of the models of the humans. The songs. Idk. If this movie was made by another studio like Dreamworks or Sony, maybe it would’ve been better??

Overall, I’d give this movie a 7.5/10. It had great moments and a lot going for it but there is still room for improvement. And that’s completely okay because we still have another movie. We only saw these characters on screen for ONE movie so there’s still more to be seen. I say fuck the critics, they don’t know what they’re talking about. This movie didn’t need to be woke or whatever. It almost didn’t need a plot. This movie was such a beautiful love letter to all of the Nintendo fans and I was smiling the entire time. They knew not to make it flop because of how iconic and beloved Mario is. I felt like a little kid again as I watched my favorite video game characters on screen and now I feel the need to play my Wii or switch. I look forward to seeing what they do in the next film.

TLDR: go see it. It’s a lot of fun

Also LET ME VOICE YOSHI I CAN DO HIS VOICE. IM GOING TO BE ON A TEACHER’S SALARY IM GONNA BE BROKE

[thishasgonehorribly]

Saw Monkey Man and Mars Express in the same day.

They're both beautiful films, fresh original stories in long established genres that have very clearly learned from their predecessors, and have a ton of parallels and reference to the classics, without being derivative.

I'm less familiar with the revenge-rampage action movie, but Monkey Man is very Hero's Journey, Dev Patel's character is a man with no name, archetypal hero. In a good way, it's very by-the-books; inciting incident, entering the strange world, first encounter with the villain, death and rebirth, there's literally a goddess.

Again, I'm not that well versed in rampage revenge, action, beats-up-everyone movies, so I recognize Kill Bill, which is itself direct homage and remix of a bunch of things. Movie shouts out John Wick by name. I saw an interview clip where Patel talks about The Raid (I still need to watch that one). The violence is gruesome and visceral. The fights are mostly legible and impactful, but it is also kinda video games. There's a lot of up-close shakey cam, and it does get a little tiring like watching some one else playing a first person game can be.

Mars Express is a science fiction detective story, and I know more points of reference there.

This one I'm kind of anxious about over-hyping. I think you can pretty easily tell if you like the kind of movie Monkey Man is and you'll have a good time. There's ways Mars Express might not land for some people. It might be kind of weird, or too specific an art style, might be too slow and methodical *

I went in with kind of middling expectations, and found it a really satisfying watch.

It kinda has everything:

The most obvious, it's got some Bladerunner, it's got some Asimov robotic's laws, there's Cowboy Bebop vibes, definitely some Nueromancer, there's some shades of Martian Chronicles, there's Ghosts in Shells, there's Robot Cops+, oh there's some Cronenberg flesh monstrosities, there's some Electric Dreams, there's weird robot sex.

It's serious, and moves at a steady pace, but there's also a good current of humor and satire throughout. There's brief moments with exceptionally dark implications.

It does a lot for me when I feel like the world building of a story is well considered. When I can tell the creators thought about not just how speculative elements would function and interact, but how characters in that world would relate to and think of things, I really like it.

The first character the movie introduces is a robot, that speaks with a very human voice, that's got just an edge of Customer Service Brightness to it, and it pretty succinctly tells you kind of a lot about how a character like this moves through this world.

*i've been searching for really non-judgmental ways to describe, like, some things take more brain-juice, and it's nothing to do with 'high-IQ' , being smart,

[buck-yyyy]

okay i feel like i need to say something, because i’ve seen this a lot over the last few months and it’s kinda been bugging me.

we throw around the term media literacy a LOT when talking about byler and milkvan- most commonly, referring to the general audience having no media literacy when it comes to byler and the subtext written in surrounding the ship.

i’m just gonna come out and say it- i don’t think that’s fair.

whether we like it or not, the majority of the viewership for stranger things is not going to be looking for subtext or examining the show for deeper themes. they’re not who the show was made for, but it’s who ended up watching it- so we gotta work with what we’ve got.

these people missing the byler leadup or mike’s queercoding aren’t lacking media literacy- they’re simply not digging deeper into the show, which is fine. it’s not a bad thing to want to enjoy a show on a surface level!! television and film and entertainment in general is about taking you into a different world, bringing you somewhere other than reality. it’s about immersing yourself somewhere else for a little bit- it doesn’t have to be about analysis or subtext.

the reality is, we think that these things are basic media literacy because the majority of us are queer and have had to look for this subtext. we’ve learned to recognize queercoding because of how much time we’ve needed to spend searching for it. the majority of this audience has not had to do that.

here’s some things that i think DO involve basic media literacy when referring to stranger things!!

the basic message of the show being about the freaks and the nerds getting to be the heroes

the subversion of common 80’s tropes

the fact that the human-leveled villains of this show are the homophobes, racists, ableists, etc.

and honestly, if someone missed those? that’s okay too! (although i seriously hope everyone has at the very least picked up on number three- if you’re any of those things and watching this show thinking it’s targeted towards you, gtfo) again, it’s okay to want to consume media as a one and done thing. it’s not a bad thing to not be constantly searching for themes- i mean, come on guys, we ALL know how exhausting that can be.

someone isn’t stupid for not wanting to think deeper about their favorite things- because sometimes, your favorite things are your favorite because you’re looking for simplicity. enjoy things how you want!!

however, if at this point you haven’t picked that will is gay- THAT is having no media literacy. come on man. fucking seriously? noah schnapp SAID he was and some of y’all still aren’t getting it.

but really, my point here is- enjoy shit how you want to!! if you want to dig deeper, analyze cinematography and lighting, search for hidden messages and themes! FUCK YEAH!!!! if you want to watch the show once, not think about it beyond what you see on the screen, and be satisfied with that? FUCK YEAH AGAIN!!!!

guys, we’ve got to get rid of some of this elitism. we’re not better for picking up on this stuff, and other people aren’t dumb for not. it’s all about the way we consume media, and there’s no wrong way to do that.

[kylorenisadorkable]

How TROS Failed Rey

These are just my opinions and from my personal perspective, if these things worked for you in the movie then cool, but this is why it was never going to work for me.

A Feminine Power Fantasy

Growing up in the 90s there wasn't a ton of media that had female lead characters. I grew up with strong female characters but they were often relegated to being the token girl of the group (see the Smurfette principle), the story was never centered around them and we never got to experience things from their point of view or really get to know their story. It felt like I was being asked to relate to male characters but boys were never asked or expected to relate to female characters.

Just as young boys see themselves as Luke, leading the adventure I also wanted to see myself as the main character. I wanted to have my own adventures.

When I first saw TFA, I went in knowing nothing about the movie. I had seen the OT and the Prequels as a kid and I had thought they were ok but I wasn't a huge Star Wars fan and in hindsight I really think this was due to the lack of female representation, Leia and Padme are great but I never really felt like I really got to know them as people. Not to mention that these characters are 2 women out of a cast that's predominantly male, it just seemed like the message LF was sending was that Star Wars is for boys, yeah girls can watch it if they want to but this isn't a series that is meant for you. So as you could guess I wasn't really expecting much from these new Star Wars movies, but I was pleasantly surprised.

I fell in love with Rey's character during those first 3 minutes of her introduction. During this brilliant example of “show don't tell,” story telling they were really able to convey so much about Rey's character and personality, I really began to care for her and felt like I understood her, as I could relate to her loneliness and isolation in my own way. And I was excited to see a story from a major fantasy/adventure franchise told from a feminine perspective. It felt like I was finally getting the representation I wanted to see.

So what happened? How did we go from Luke's line “And I will not be the Last Jedi” which is essentially him “passing the torch” to Rey, the next generation, to “One day I will earn your brother's saber?” 

As if the saber didn't already choose her in the Force Awakens? Why did they decide that all of a sudden Rey was unworthy? Didn't Yoda say “that library held nothing that the girl Rey didn't already posses?” which yes was a clever way of saying that Rey already took the jedi texts with her but was also implying that she already had everything she needed within herself to be a jedi (courage, humility, compassion etc...). Why did they take a step backwards in the last movie in the franchise? Insisting that Rey needed to train, that she suddenly wasn't good enough?

I can't say for sure what happened to lead up to this point. Was it just that the creative team gave in to the pressuring of a loud minority of alt-right youtubers and bots. Were they relying on Reddit and Twitter for public opinion rather than doing actual marketing research?  While I think that this was definitely a big factor I think there was just a general misunderstanding of the characters on Terrio's and JJ's part to begin with.

What Does Rey Want/Need?

To know where they went wrong, we have to ask ourselves who is Rey? All characters have a story goal, or the thing they want. By the end of the story the character will either get what they want after some struggles of course or learn that the thing that they want isn't what they need. So what does Rey want?  To understand what she wants we have to first understand her wound or past experience that caused emotional pain and interferes with the character's life. Rey's wound stems from her  abandonment. Along with the wound, comes the concept of the false lie. What is a lie that the character believes about themselves that we as the audience knows is untrue? Rey's lie is first, that her family is going to come back for her. 

The other lie she tells herself is the belief that she is worthless because she was abandoned, as she tells everyone she meets “I'm no one“ or “I'm just a scavenger.”

When Daisy Ridley was asked in an interview why Rey says she's “No One.” Ridley says it's because our relationships to people define so much of who we are and without relationships then who are we?  This makes sense considering that our parents are major influences in our development and in how we think about ourselves through much of our lives.

Rey seeks out parental figures, thinking that through them she'll figure out where she belongs. “Whoever you're waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back. But there's someone who still could. The Belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead.” 

Rey initially believes that Maz is referring to Luke and when she later sets off to find him. She believe that he is going to be able to give her answers, and provide her with the belonging that she longs for, but Luke ultimately ends up disappointing her but finds comfort in her relationship with Ben.

This goes back to the idea that what Rey thinks she wants, Isn't necessarily what she needs. As JJ stated in the directors commentary of The Force Awakens, “So there was a very powerful idea that what she desperately wanted was belonging, which she’ll get, but just not how she expects.”

JJ and Terrio try to fullfill Rey's need through “found family” the family she finds with her friends and the resistance, but I think there is more to Rey's desire of wanting family that can't be satisfied by this alone. Finn, Poe, Leia are definitely a part of her journey in finding belonging but they're not the final piece to the puzzle. Otherwise she would have felt completely fulfilled by the end of The Last Jedi when she is on the Falcon surrounded by her friends.

I think part of Rey's desire for family, is also the desire to be understood, to be “seen.”  Rey even tells Finn in TROS that “People keep telling me they know me. No one does.” We hear Ben's response in the trailer “But I do...” (which was cut from the movie)

Ben has always been shown to be the person who truly “sees” Rey. He sees even the aspects of herself that she doesn't like to acknowledge. Recognizing that her holding on to her parents is affecting her negatively and that if she really wants to “find herself” she needs to let go.

Which is why when Ben says “You have no place in this story. You're nothing. But not to me.” What is really being expressed is “I don't care about where you come from and I see you for who you are.”  

This is why I believe that Ben was always suppose to be the final piece to the belonging Rey is searching for. As their narratives are intertwined. They both satisfy each others needs as characters, Rey's need to be seen for who she is and Ben's need for reconciliation and healing within his family.

Rey Palpatine

Rian Johnson said that when he began working on The Last Jedi, he wrote out all the character's names and next to them wrote what would be the hardest thing for that character to face. For Rey, this was that she needs to stand on her own two feet and define who she is for herself but JJ and Terrio seemed to have misunderstood this as Terrio states that,

“We also thought that Rey’s arc cannot be finished after Episode VIII. You can leave Episode VIII and say, “Well, now, Rey is content. She’s discovered her parents aren’t Skywalkers, or whatever, and that’s fine.” But so much of her personal story was about where she came from, what kept her on Jakku all those years and the trauma that shaped her. We see quite strongly in Episode VII that something mysterious and troubling happened to her. Although she did get some answers in Episode VIII, we didn’t feel that that story was over. We felt that there were still more questions in Rey’s head about where she came from and where she was going. So, that was the other big idea that we had to address in this film. Rian’s answer to, “What’s the worst news that Rey could receive?” was that she comes from junk traders, and that’s true. She does come from junk traders; we didn’t contradict that.”

Rey's conflict wasn't that she came from junk traders. Rey didn't care about “legacy.” Her conflict stemmed from her abandonment. Rey thinks she's “a nobody” not because of her parent's occupation or lineage but because she feels that she must be worthless because why else would her parents give her up? Rey learning that her parents sold her off for drinking money, that they didn't want her, was already a difficult and traumatic truth to overcome. Star Wars is a coming of age story, in the OT Luke grows from being a boy longing for adventure to discovering what it truly means to be a Jedi (following your principles and having a compassionate heart). Rey's journey is about letting go of childhood trauma and discovering her own independence.

It's also strange seeing as JJ had previously stated during The Force Awakens press tour that “I really feel that the assumption that any character needs to have inherited a certain number of midi-chlorians or needs to be part of a bloodline. It's not that I don't believe that as part of the canon, I'm just saying that at 11 years old that wasn't where my heart was. And so I respect and adhere to the canon but I also say that the Force has always seemed to me to be more inclusive and stronger than that.”

And there was still conflict for her to overcome. The one person who she felt truly understood her is now the supreme leader of the first order, will the resistance discover their connection? Will they see her as a traitor? All of this had the potential for great external and internal character conflict, but for some reason they didn't see this as conflict enough to sustain a whole movie?

Instead they gave Luke's character arc in the OT of having a dark side relative to Rey. “Discovering that you actually descended from your adoptive family’s greatest enemy, the same enemy who corrupted Anakin Skywalker and is responsible for the destruction of the Skywalker family in the first place, felt most devastating to us.” This doesn't make any sense to me as it feel like they just gave Rey Luke's internal conflict of being afraid of his dark side, I don't think this was ever a problem for Rey. In fact, in The Last Jedi  she leapt into the dark side cave to face her darkness (her abandonment). Luke even says “You went straight to the dark and you didn't even try to stop yourself.” 

The dark side cave in The Last Jedi was symbolic of Rey coming to terms with her darkness (the parts of herself she wants to hide).  It relates back to Jungian psychology (which much of Star Wars is based on) that people can only become whole through understanding both the light and shadow aspects of their personality. So it doesn't make sense for Rey to be afraid of who she is in the final movie when she just finished a journey where she learned to accept who she was?

Rey Skywalker

Terrio says that the decision to have Rey take on the name “Skywalker” was a way to show that “you can choose your ancestry.” Which is not true and also a strange thing to say considering the trilogy started with this:

But even if this was just awkward phrasing and what Terrio meant to say was that she considers the Skywalkers her family. Does this make sense considering that she didn't have a great relationship with Luke to begin with?

 I've seen it argued that she took the name as a way of honoring Leia but Leia never took the name or considered herself a Skywalker. Also this is another step backwards for Rey's character as The Last Jedi was trying to assert that Rey does not need to keep looking for parental figures to define herself.

So why  must she be a Palpatine, a Skywalker and “all the jedi” anyways? I think this was done for two reasons, the first was because by killing Ben they were going to kill the last of the Skywalker family and they wanted to keep the name tied to the franchise, in case they need the characters for future projects down the line, so they just pushed it onto Rey. The second reason is that I think they were trying to appease the misogynists' who spent the last 4 years calling Rey a “Mary Sue” so they explained her power away through powerful male lineage. It just feels so weird to me, like the creators are saying that we should like Rey not because of who she is as a character but because of who she is in relation to all these other characters we know you like (Luke, Leia, all the jedi that use her as a vessel etc...)

Daisy Ridley has even expressed her frustration with the Rey's lineage debate multiple times, “I love that Rey is such a great character, they’re like: ‘No, no, she has to be… she has to be-’She’s her own person! Let her be her guys, let her live.

Yet even at the end of the final film poor Rey can't seem to catch a break as she's once again asked for her last name. She once again has to justify herself for just existing. Why are surnames suddenly so important in Star Wars now anyways? Shouldn't the correct answer be “just Rey,” now that she's come to accept who she is and where she's come from and shouldn't that be good enough? What happened to the message of anyone can be a hero? That you don't have to come from or align yourself with a powerful family legacy. That we all have the power to make a difference?

TROS seems to be constantly asking Rey to prove herself. And weirdly enough it reminds me in a strange meta way of my own experience being a woman in the fandom and being constantly asked to prove that I'm a “True fan” (whatever the f@#% that means...) to prove that I'm worthy of consuming and participating in this content that male fans feel belongs solely to them.

In Conclusion

So what did our heroine gain in the end? Did she find family and belonging? No. So what does she have in the end? A yellow lightsaber (for merchandising purposes) and a surname of a dead family?  I guess she finally has an answer to give all the nosey nellies, obsessed with ones pedigree that have suddenly popped up all over the galaxy.

It's not a satisfying ending for her, as she's basically right back where she started. Alone, in a desolate desert, once again staring face to face at an old woman (an old woman which at the start of the Force Awakens symbolized her fear of growing old and wasting away her life on Jakku).

Terrio states that  this is not meant to indicate that Rey plans to stay here, “The very last thing Rey would do after all that is to go and live alone in a desert.”  but when that is the last shot you chose to end the movie on then what is the audience suppose to think? The bigger issue however, is that Rey's ending holds no significance to her or her journey. Terrio says that “In our thinking, Rey goes back to Tatooine as a pilgrimage in honor of her two Skywalker masters. Leia’s childhood home, Alderaan, no longer exists, but Luke’s childhood home, Tatooine, does. Rey brings the sabers there to honor the Skywalker twins by laying them to rest — together, finally — where it all began.” Tatooine, the Lars homestead and the twin suns, don't mean anything to Rey.  You know who did mean something to Rey? Who was the one person who understood her, who she had an intimate relationship with, who she explicitly states she wanted to be with? Ben. But he's gone too. But clearly a light saber and surname are more important. Again this all comes from a lack of caring for what Rey wants.

I just wish that the Sequel Trilogy had stayed Rey's trilogy, that she got to be a heroine in her own right not because she was a skywalker, or a palpatine or from some other powerful family. I will always love Rey but I will always hate what they did to her and I'm tired of people invalidating my feelings and telling me that it was a good ending or that it was empowering. I just want heroines to be taken as seriously and to have all the same privileges as male heroes. Let them stand on their own without connecting them back to every male hero in the franchise, let them be their own character, and finally just let them be human, let them fall in love and have relationships if they want to. Male heroes are never considered to be less of a hero for having a love interest, so why are female heroes? Basically what I got out of the Rise of Skywalker, was that it was created by a couple of guys that loved Luke and the OT and could care less about Rey and that's truly heart breaking.

[bereft-of-frogs]

I always find it odd how broadly speaking, MCU things do well with gen audiences, like Loki got the highest critical scores out of the three MCU shows so far but then for each project there seems to be some really passionate hate too from certain internet corners. Like, I heard someone say Black Widow was awful and I'm like... really?... awful?

Presuming this ask is from me talking last night about I wish the Loki series was the worst show I’ve ever seen, because god I’ve watched some bad shows - Black Widow certainly had its flaws and I wouldn’t count it in the top of the MCU by any means, but again, good god I wish it were the worst movie I’d seen this year alone.

I think the reason general audiences rate these things higher is contextual. Most general audiences go in knowing roughly what they’re going to get out of a high budget tentpole film. They’re going in expected to be entertained and not expecting to have to really think so much so they’re largely satisfied because their expectations have generally been met. Good rating. Boom. Done. And then they don’t think about it until they’re looking for the next thing to do on date night.

The two groups of people who hate these films loudly, consistently, vocally tend to be: the people who think Marvel is ruining all of film and culture and is a moral blight on the world because people aren’t watching Citizen Kane anymore or something. That was a pretty extreme generalization of their viewpoint, I’m sorry haha, and they do have half a point - Disney is fast reaching a terrifying monopoly status in the industry, and their distribution model is really hurting smaller cinemas, and it’s hard to get started as a filmmaker nowadays, just to name a few problems with how dominant they’ve become. But also no, you, individual moviegoer who just wants to watch some pretty people fight each other with good special effects, are not responsible for the death of all culture, and also these people are around for every mass popular phenomenon and surely will be to the end of time.

The second group is the diehard fans who are constantly analyzing and building up expectations, sometimes for years, and are disappointed when those expectations aren’t met, even if otherwise the thing is well constructed. These are people with a personal investment and possibly some...unrealistic ideas about what Marvel Studios is actually able to do, and also have sort of lost sight of what general audiences would want, so they’re crushed when the narratives they’ve built up over time aren’t actually done. I mean, I think sometimes that they’ve even lost sight of what other diehard fans would want, and assume that their singular vision is of universal appeal. I just remember a lot of the most dominate ‘the Loki series better do [this]’ stuff had me going ‘oof I kinda hope it doesn’t...’

But yeah, I think the hate comes from passion and...building up unrealistic expectations and losing sight of how and why these movies appeal to other fans or general audiences.

And I can certainly sympathize, because that was definitely Endgame for me. I think the difference is I can recognize that Endgame was a fairly well produced film, even if I was personally really disappointed by the tone and plot decisions, and I got why people liked it. I think we should really make more room for people to be like 'personally, it was really bad for me, but I also understand how others can like it'. I also often cite Kingsman: The Secret Service as a movie that I personally hated. I really hated it. I had a huge problem with it (and similar to Endgame was also going through some personal stuff that may have colored my experience) but I can still recognize why people enjoyed it and it was a ‘good’ movie.

I also think a lot of the really extremely online fandom types that get this upset over Marvel movies/series...don’t watch a lot of TV. And that’s not me just making stuff up, people talk about that! There are so many posts nowadays where people specifically talk about not being able to get into any new things, or only caring about Loki, or only reading fanfiction. And like, do whatever, I don’t care, but I do watch a lot of television. I make time and space to watch a good deal of television, and I feel like people who are watching more have more of a grasp on the highs and lows, shall we say. Aka, there’s a lot of shit to filter through and when you watch a greater breadth of TV (or film...I’m more in a TV phase right now, but same for film) I think it’s easier to recognize quality and be able to sort things into ‘objectively good’ ‘objectively bad’ categories. (And the related ‘good but I didn’t like it for personal reasons’ ‘bad but I did like it for personal reasons’ subcategories.)

And I will say, I can also sympathize with feeling really confused when you really don’t like something and then it gets a bunch of positive reviews. The true worst TV series I watched this year, Amazon’s Dark/Web, has a good blurb from Den of Geek and a few Emmy nominations (though I’m assuming they were technical...I have to assume they’re technical lol). My so-far least favorite film, Pieces of a Woman, has a 7.1 on IMDB and got good reviews. And it does kind of suck when you’re like ‘hey what the fuck, how is everyone not seeing how bad this is?’ but...I think that’s only solved by watching a lot of TV/movies and getting a sense for your own tastes and different levels of quality, and our society opening up more space for people to feel comfortable saying things like ‘I really didn’t like it, but I can see that it’s well-made and I’m glad you enjoyed it!’ or vice versa. (Which, given how we can barely get people to stop looking for moral reasons to hate something when they just don’t vibe with it...I don’t have a lot of hope lol.)

Disclaimer: not everyone, etc etc, and obviously I’m not talking about the people who say things like ‘eh it wasn’t for me’. That’s a perfectly natural response! It’s okay to not like things, obviously. What I’m specifically referring to is the people who say whatever new Marvel thing it’s the worst show/movie they’ve ever seen, which thus far seems to be no more than a handful, but their posts occasionally make it to my dash and I do think of them every time I’m watching an objectively terrible TV show like ‘god I wish that were me’ XD

[therealvinelle]

Vinelle (and muffin since I know they'll see this too~!), I don't know if you guys have made a post ranking the Twilight books and why (including Bree and L&D if applicable) but I'd love to hear your opinions! (also if you could rank the Twi movies from least worst to most worst and why that'd be awesome too! 030 hi key love your rants on the movies and would love to hear y'alls thoughts more on them)-Sw

You’ve caught us out, anon.

And thanks to you, we spent last night watching Breaking Dawn Part 2 so we could rank it. @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin hadn’t seen it at all, while I half-remembered it from years ago. A terrible time was had because that movie was unwatchably bad.

Since this ask was sent jointly, our answer was co-written.

So, without further ado, movies first:

1. Twilight

This is a bad movie, but it’s recognizably a movie. The scenes are connected, there are things it did well, and we could tell you what the plot is. The awkwardness, for instance, is very well done. The weaknesses are glaring, the main one being that the film never sells us on the characters of Bella and Edward, nor on their relationship, relying instead on the audience knowing they’re in love because- well, they’re in love.

Diving deeper into Edward and Bella, there’s an understandable explanation for this. Edward of the books is terrifying, and I don’t think there’s a translation to screen that could have kept the romantic atmosphere surrounding him that we see from Bella’s point of view.

Bella can listen to Edward eating Biology and how he explains that it means how much he loves her and not blink. An actual audience hearing that dialogue will have second thoughts.

Right out of the gate, Twilight has a very difficult task: Salvage Edward Cullen while still producing a somewhat recognizable character who will take the same actions (or near the same actions) that Edward Cullen did in the book.

In the effort to make Edward palatable but save some of his original character he loses his more terrifying lines (as well as his hilarious ego) but becomes weird, awkward, and vaguely creepy. Edward Cullen of the films is that weird, friendless guy in your high school who you feel kind of bad for but don’t want to eat lunch with.

Bella faces a similar transformation. Bella’s insecurity is completely removed (or else the screenwriters somehow failed to notice it). As a result, we get this strange antisocial girl who is too cool for school because she’s a stuck up bitch.

Between Edward, this creepy guy who sits next to her in Biology, and Bella, this girl who enters school too good for everyone else, we see no reason why they would ever be interested in one another.

In an attempt to make these characters likeable they made them both unlikeable and boring. The film series as a whole never recovers from this (indeed, the quest to make Edward look good keeps leading to stranger and stranger places). 

It also forgets to explain why the Cullens live among humans, they’re attending high school… because. It’s a movie that explained to us all those terrible 2010 era memes and “still a better love story than Twilight”. And frankly, those memes were great, better than the movie. Case in point.

Everything is weirdly blue, which is atmospheric but also makes everything and everyone washed out. Everyone is super pale, so you have Mike looking just as vampire-y as Edward. However, it’s recognizably a movie. It introduces the characters, recognizes that the audience needs to be informed of things that are important to the plot, and most scenes are in some way connected to the plot. This is more than can be said for the other films, which is why it lands the top slot.

2. Eclipse

Eclipse earns its second place by process of elimination. The remaining three were worse. Eclipse also features Edward being cuckolded mercilessly, which is hilarious. Oh, and Victoria playing Riley, that was another beautiful scene.

Apart from that it’s just a deeply boring, borderline unwatchable movie.

Special shoutouts go to:

The opening scene of Riley getting turned, a ridiculous and poorly executed scene that served no purpose for the movie whatsoever.

Rosalie dropping her backstory without any context, Bella walks up to her and Rosalie launches into this horrific story for no particular reason. Both her and Jasper’s backstories could have been cut, as they served no purpose to the story and felt really thrown in there.

The many, many redundant scenes. The Victoria chase that ends with the Cullens and Quileutes squabbling could have been cut entirely. So too could the Seattle subplot with the newborns and Bree.

It’s a movie that isn’t about anything in particular, so it throws subplot spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. It dutifully regurgitates the Jacob/Bella/Edward love triangle while also trying to convey that Bella’s about to lose her mortality, while also trying to introduce suspense and excitement with the newborns. It fails to execute either of these, and it also fails to tie them together.

3. New Moon

The movie that wanted to skip itself.

This movie had two jobs, show that Bella is depressed when Edward leaves and convince the audience of Bella and Jacob’s strong friendship. And apart the rotating shots and the occasional Stewart voiceover, the former becomes one of those “just stay with us on this one, guys” failures, and the second is failed on every level. Jake and Bella are much closer at the beginning of this movie than they were in canon, and a montage of Bella hanging out with her buddy is just that, it’s a montage of Bella hanging out with her buddy. It speaks volumes that Stewart’s voiceover has to remind us she’s depressed and Jacob is helping her heal, because there’s no indicator on screen that this is happening.

This, in turn, makes Bella/Jake as weak and unconvincing as Bella/Edward was in the previous movie. We just have to take on faith that these people are important to each other because that’s what we’re told.

There’s also the wolves, who are completely butchered. In the books, there’s this great mystery with bears in the woods, there’s Bella wondering why Laurent ran off, there’s build-up, then when we find out what’s actually been happening it’s a satisfying explanation, all the pieces come together really nicely. This is not the case in the movie. Meeting the pack is just weird in this context, because we never wondered who they were. Bella is randomly invited to breakfast, we meet Emily with the scarred face who won’t ever have a line again, and that’s it, these characters don’t become important to the movie in any way. It’s a pointless scene that could have been cut, much like so many other scenes in these movies.

Apart from that, the Volturi scene from the books is butchered so I hardly recognize it, and Alice, Carlisle, and Edward’s characters are assassinated to an impressive degree considering they were barely in the movie.

It was hard to watch.

It lands third place because somehow, Breaking Dawn was worse.

4. Breaking Dawn Part Two

I’ll just list the positives: the intro was very pretty and promised a better movie. It was also long, which we appreciated because it took away from the movie’s runtime. (This is not at all an exaggeration, a lot of the time watching all five movies was spent looking at the remaining runtime and groaning.) The Tommy Wiseau sex scene in the sex cabin was uncomfortable, but the fact that it would have fit perfectly in The Room made it funny. The Romanians were genuinely, unironically, great, because of all of Carlisle’s trashy friends, these were the only ones the movie didn’t try to convince us weren’t trashy.

This movie ranks above Breaking Dawn Part One because of the things listed above.

Apart from that, something all of these movies, but especially the last four, suffer from is that they don’t have plots so much as they have a check list of things to put in the movie before they can call it a wrap. This movie is the worst offender of that, and it’s made worse by the film’s expectation that the people are fans who already know what’s happening, and therefore don’t need anything explained. I’ll explain what we mean by that.

We get Bella waking up a vampire, and absolutely nothing is explained. If you don’t know what happened in the last movie then fuck you. Bella then goes hunting, we get the hiker, we get the mountain lion, she goes back to meet Renesmée, finds out Jake imprinted on her daughter, we get the sex cabin, the handwrestling with Emmett. The Charlie problem is introduced (poorly), only to be solved a scene later with emotional payoff that had absolutely no buildup. All of these things, and the rest of the movie as well for that matter, feels like we’re just crossing items off a list.

Since the audience is expected to already know the story, the story only bothers to explain about half of what’s happening, if half. Who’s the lady living with Charlie? If you don’t know, don’t worry because it’s not important anyway. When did Kate and Garrett fall in love? If you don’t care, that's understandable, because they’ve barely interacted in the movie. Who are the Amazonian women? Do they have names? Don’t worry about it. Did Alistair actually leave, if so did that have an impact? Well, Bella stared at a window for a few seconds.

Every so often the characters will start quoting the books, and it’ll be completely out of place because these movies veered off course long ago. Carlisle references his great friendship with Aro, a friendship that was only briefly mentioned at the beginning of the second movie. Aro randomly starts talking about how scary human technology is.

All of these scenes feel like Marcus is telling the story, he’s just listing events waiting for the story to be over, and forgets a lot of pertinent details because he doesn’t care enough to remember them. There’s no effort to tie these scenes together, no effort to build up to anything.

There’s also one significant failure, and this is a failure shared by all five films, but it affects the plot (I use the term “plot” loosely) of this movie which is why it gets a special shoutout here. Vampires in these movies look human. The fact that Bella has to ask Edward is Gianna the secretary is human says it all, because in the books you know instantly, there’s not even a question. This makes the Charlie subplot ridiculous, because Bella looks and acts the same as ever. She had a trashy makeover, maybe, but she’s still Bella. Watching her get human acting classes after we watched her act perfectly human is just silly. Now, we’re all for suspension of belief, but this movie just pencil drew a moustache on her and the audience is supposed to go “My god, Bella, I didn’t recognize you!”

We then get to the atrocious fight scene, which was somehow worse than I remembered. It was also oddly long for a giant fake out. This scene took significant run time and it turns out to have 0 effect on the plot. And when we get back to the real world, the tonal shift is extreme. You can’t go from Jane being choked, dragged across the snow and face eaten by a wolf to her standing around chilling. We could have skipped it entirely, just had Alice touch Aro’s hand, and he goes “Ah, I see, cheerio.”

The end credits were pretty funny, “here are these random characters with bit parts in previous movies, isn’t this nostalgic?”. Nice try, movie. The fact this came after an extended clip show of the great romance of Edward and Bella, through blurry montage images that failed to be convincing in their original films let alone this one, just made it even more hilarious. Hope you didn’t completely ruin the director’s career, though honestly you should a bit.

5. Breaking Dawn Part One

As you can probably tell by the above entries, the fact that this is the worst one is really saying something. All the movies were hard to watch, but this one required pure strength of will to power through.

The big issue is that Breaking Dawn shouldn’t have been split in the first place. However, it was, and that meant that we got a movie that was almost entirely filler. (Followed, somehow, by a movie that was also largely filler.)

We get everybody preparing for the wedding. What do Mike and Jessica think of Bella and Edward getting married? What’s that, you don’t care? Well, now you know anyway. We get the full wedding, as in the whole fucking thing, including the afterparty. We get Bella and Edward traveling to their island, and there’s filler in the filler where they go clubbing in Rio. We then get every minute detail of the wedding night followed by every minute detail of the honeymoon.

There’s fanservice, and then there’s this. This was live action fanfiction.

NOTHING that in any way is relevant to the story happens, the closest we get is Irina looking stoned. Too bad the Denali’ refusal to help out in Eclipse was cut from the last movie, in fact I’m not sure they were mentioned at all previously in these movies (I think maybe Edward had a one-line reference in Twilight?) so this means nothing to people who haven’t read the books.

We then get to the pregnancy arc, which could have been Rosemary’s Baby but is instead as outrageously boring as the first half of the movie was. The director must have realized as much, because he gives us Jacob’s alpha plot that should have been cut from the movie (yes, I know it was in the books, but the thing about adaptations is that things have to go. For the record, I think Meyer should have cut it too). That subplot was straight out of an anime, by the way. Jacob claiming his ancestral rights as alpha while listing off his titles and the soaring music, was… every shounen anime, ever. Complete with the shitty voice acting.

It was a soul-crushingly boring movie.

-

Something that screws over the last four movies is that they were made to feed the fangirls, and generate revenue because the producers knew the fans were coming to watch the books they liked come to life, so they just had to throw scenes from the books and into the movies and let the magic happen. This is a terrible way to adapt something.

Special shoutout too to having to watch Taylor Lautner run around shirtless in four out of five movies. That was very uncomfortable and none of us needed that in our lives, Lautner included.

Super special shoutout to the fact that we disagree with nearly all the casting.

And this isn’t the post for that, but all of the characters were butchered. Some more than others, and some more insidiously than others. It’s the big things, like Carlisle’s character being turned on its head since he thinks all vampires are damned, exactly the opposite of what he thinks in the books, and the little things, like Jasper and Bella being buddies who bicker fondly in New Moon. 

Then the books:

1. Midnight Sun

HANDS DOWN. This is easily our favorite thing to come out of the entire Twilight franchise.

Edward is every kind of crazy at the same time, all the time, and it makes every single sentence packed with delirious entertainment. Reading this book is having a stroke, a psychotic episode, and watching five different true crime shows all at once. We adore every letter of it. (That’s no exaggeration, we even laughed about Edward capitalizing “Son” when Carlisle refers to him as “son” in conversation.)

The book was more than we’d dared to hope for, one of those rare books that makes you go “This was written just for me.”

2. Twilight

The one that started it all.

Vampires are wonderfully creepy. Things like Bella staring at Carlisle acting like the mundane town doctor shortly after learning just how old he is, Alice explaining how vampires kill all, and the uncanny valley perfection of the Cullens all add to the otherness of these vampires, and the general atmosphere of the book.

The love story is convincing. Edward seen through the eyes of Bella is wonderful, the red flags are there but if it weren’t for the books that followed we wouldn’t have decried the ship the way we do.

3. Eclipse

Breaking Dawn is the more interesting book, but Eclipse has less things we outright don’t like. We get to know all the characters better, Edward and Bella are their usual beautiful selves, and it’s overall peak Twilight.

4. Breaking Dawn

Would have ranked much higher, we like what it did. Without it we wouldn’t be in this fandom now, as it brought so much amazing content. The baby plot is fine by us, Carlisle’s friends are great, the Volturi confrontation is a beautiful, if bleak culmination of preventable events. There’s a lot of great stuff in this book.

Unfortunately, and there’s just no diplomatic way to put this, so I’ll just come out with it: there’s too much Jacob.

He no longer had a reason to be in the story, given the way Eclipse ended he had every reason not to be in it. In spite of that we get an entire third of the book from his point of view, and then damned if he’s not shoehorned into the last third as well. He added absolutely nothing to the story, he was just there taking up space and being possessive of a toddler. His POV section was tough to get through, and his presence in book three was just painful. He should have been cut.

5. New Moon

This was the book we had to power through. There are some very good things in it, most notably the Volturi scene, but the Muffin and I enjoy Twilight for the vampires, and that makes Laurent and Hallucination!Edward the highlights of the part of the book where Edward is gone.

There’s also the fact that Jacob isn’t a very compelling character. He has to carry the book now that the Cullens aren’t doing it, and he simply isn’t up for it.

-

Yes, we’re aware that these books are ranked according to how much Jacob is in them. We don’t even hate him, not at all, it’s just that he’s boring.

(That being said, the books at their worst are better than the movies at their best. Jacob narrating his perfect playdate with Renesmée would still be preferable to… I’m trying to think of a good scene from the movies. Hm, nevermind.)

As for The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner and Life and Death, only I have read Bree Tanner and I don’t remember it well enough to give a proper assessment. I was bored with the OCs, though, bored to tears, throughout that book I was itching for Victoria and the Cullens. We have not read Life and Death, but we’re offended by its existence so it ranks bottom.

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: Quarantine

A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.

Words: 4K

Warnings: None

Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony

Waves

Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”

Summer!

Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???

She lives!

Sis, blink twice if you need help.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”

Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”

Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!

Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.

What life? We all been in quarantine.

Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.

“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.��� Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”

Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.

I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..

I’m scared omg.

Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”

Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.

Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.

“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”

It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.

“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”

I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!

So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?

The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.

^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.

“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”

I really needed to hear this today.

Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..

I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.

Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.

“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”

Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”

Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.

“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”

Please don’t cry, bestie.

This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.

Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????

I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.

My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.

“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”

I really appreciate her honesty.

Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.

Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.

These comments are not passing the vibe check.

Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?

“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.

@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️

“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”

Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!

Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend

I still say they smashed idc

It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.

^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.

“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”

She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.

“Punk.”

“Kid.”

Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”

He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”

“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”

“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”

“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”

Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”

“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”

He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”

“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”

“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”

“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”

“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”

“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”

“I resent that.”

“Is it a lie though?”

He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.

I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.

Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..

Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…

Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..

^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.

As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.

“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”

“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.

She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”

“We did not.”

“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”

“Fake news.”

She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”

He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”

“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”

“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”

“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”

“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”

Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴🥴

I never realized how arrogant she is……

LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.

Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.

Their friendship is so goals omg

@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches

Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”

Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”

@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.

She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”

“Aren’t you guys married?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”

Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”

“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”

“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”

“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”

“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”

“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”

He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”

“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”

Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.

@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.

Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.

“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.

“Hello, Sandcastle.”

“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.

“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re mean.”

“Christopher, you are literally a child.”

“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.

She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.

Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf

It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.

^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.

Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.

“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”

“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”

“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.

“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”

Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”

“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”

She laughed aloud. “Funny.”

“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”

“Christopher!”

“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”

Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”

“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”

“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”

Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Tike.”

Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”

“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.

“You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”

“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”

“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.

Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”

“I didn’t say that.”

Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”

She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”

“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”

“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.

“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”

“Always,” Christopher agreed.

“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”

Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.

“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”

“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”

“Or, I can come to you—“

“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.

Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.

“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”

“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”

“And…we talk.”

“After the horizontal tango—“

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“

“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”

“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”

“He gets reception in the box?”

“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”

He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”

“Christopher!”

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire, Pt. 2

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: heavy kissing/touching, some language. WC: 4,072. Episode References: 19x13 & 22x04.

A certified workaholic, Rafael had little to no time for any kind of romantic relationships. His last one, with Yelina, years prior, ended badly. It was during that relationship he had expressed deep feelings and she rebuked him, using him as a stepping stone to his former friend, Alex Muñoz. That was not to say he was celibate; he had needs - desires; and he bid his time with men and women who also exhibited similar interests. They warmed the bed, but never the heart. It was just easier to focus on work - work required no emotion.

Rafael found his mind wandering as the cab took him home. He was drawn to you the moment he stepped through the 8th floor doors where all the junior ADAs were working. He recalled when he sat in a similar room, in Brooklyn, before he made his way up the ladder. Things were so much easier then, even if he didn't recognize it at the time. The world was an old movie: all black and white and it was high noon. He was Gary Cooper and absolutely sure absolutely who were the good guys, who were the bad guys.

The kiss replayed in his mind like an endless looping device. You had bright, lush lips that he was pretty sure were designed to drive anyone of any orientation mad. When you had kissed him, it certainly took him by surprise - a wonderful surprise. He allowed himself to relish in the taste of your kiss - the invitation you gave when you moaned and opened your mouth more, so he could slide his tongue into your mouth. 

For the briefest of moments, he ignored the rational part of his brain. All cares were thrown into the wind. And then his moral compass, which was spinning and spinning and spinning, came to a sudden stop as it dawned on him that you had been drinking.

The kiss - was an impulse born out of your drunken stupor. He hadn’t missed however, the look of disappointment on your face when he broke the kiss and stated he should not have done that.

When he finally made it back to his apartment, he found himself unable to wind down. The mind of the prosecutor now turned defense lawyer, was racing with a million thoughts at once. Despite the busyness of his mind, there was one thing that he was sure of. 

Kissing you was tantalizing. And he wanted to do it again.

He changed into burgundy sweatpants and his old ratted Harvard shirt and poured himself a night cap. He was certain your email was like his when he was there: first name (dot) last name (at) manhattanda (dot) org. Ever the perfectionist, he opened his email and looked up the D.A. 's office's website. Sure enough, there was your contact information (and he was right about your email). 

The plan seemed simple enough: first, apologize once more for doing anything without your explicit consent; second: ask for a do-over but he didn’t want you to feel any kind of pressure. Nor did he expect you to acquiesce - and that if he did indeed overreach, it was noted and he would keep things completely professional. 

He hovered over the send button for longer than he would have anticipated. Finishing his drink, he took a deep breath and hit send. And then went to bed feeling antsy - like a child the night before their birthday.

**

The sun shone brightly the next morning, filtering through the partially open shades. Rafael groaned as he stretched, with his back and shoulders making a cracking sound as the bubbles burst in the synovial fluid around his joints. It was simultaneously satisfying and a reminder of his age.

The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done brewing. Rafael made way to the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions. He helped himself to coffee and then sat back in bed to read the paper on his iPad and get caught up on the latest happenings while he was asleep.

For a moment, he forgot about his email to you. He opened his inbox, mentally gearing himself for an email from you rebuking him, or worse, no response at all.

His normally steel stomach flipped when he saw there was an email.

Rafael, you have nothing to apologize for. I would love a do-over. Name the place/time, and I’ll meet you. My phone # is 718-371-5952. -Y/N

Rafael looked at the timestamp on the reply. You were up early. He scratched his beard and wondered if it was too early to text. 

‘It’s too early to text Rafael, coño.’ He chastised himself. ‘Es muy temprano; después. Ya no eres un hombre joven; necesitas relajarte.

**

You were distracted at work. You couldn’t focus one bit. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but you were anxious. You kept checking your phone to see if Rafael had texted you. Groaning, you took your phone and threw it into your drawer. You opened a new browser window when Marjorie strolled in. She had black oversized glasses and a hoodie. In her hands were two coffee cups and a brown paper bag. 

You were relieved when you saw her - talking with her would help keep your anxieties at bay. 

You stood and turned the corner of your desk and hopped on Marjorie’s desk.

“Morning!” You replied cheerfully. 

Marjorie groaned. “Why are you so loud? Why is it so bright in here?” You reached for a coffee and she protested, reaching for it. You held it back, smirking.

“Someone had a bit much I suppose? Woke up full of regret for poor life choices?”

Marjorie took off her sunglasses. “Yes.” She hissed. “You had a lot to drink too; why are you so chipper? Did you get laid or something?”

You paused and it was a long enough of a pause for her to jump all over it. “Oh my fuck, who? Spill. Carisi?”

You barked out a laugh before taking a sip of the piping hot coffee. “No. God knows I love him, but not like that.” You narrowed your eyes and leaned down to whisper, scanning the office.

“Um - what are you doing? We’re the only ones here working today.” Marjorie cocked her brow in response. 

“This place leaks like a sieve, Marj - you know that.” You warned. “Can’t be too careful.” 

Marjorie sighed and put on her sunglasses once more. “Sorry, it’s too bright. Still too drunk.”

You shook your head. “Um. It was Barba.”

“You fucked Barba!” Marjorie shrieked loudly. 

“Would you lower your voice?” You replied sternly. “No. I did not sleep with him. But we did kiss. And he sorta asked me out.”

“Holy crap on a cracker.” Marjorie replied, astounded by the news. She opened the other coffee and pushed the brown paper bag towards you. “Bear claws. So how was it? Is he as silver tongued as he is in the courtroom?”

Your cheeks burned as you replayed the kiss in your mind - how his tongue followed yours, deepening the kiss. It was full of enthusiasm and how he pulled you against him, his body solid and warm. If you tried hard enough, you could still taste the mix of scotch and coffee that was his kiss. “He was very… ” You trailed off slowly, trying to search for the right word. “... passionate. Yes, very passionate. Knows what he’s doing.”

Marjorie tipped her coffee at you. “Well then.”

**

When Rafael did eventually text you, he suggested a restaurant in the NoLiTa section of Manhattan. He insisted on meeting you at your place, as to him, it was the proper thing to do. You declined, insisting that a boomerang trip was uneccessary and that you’d meet him at the location. From the sidewalk on East Houston Street, under a grimy red awning that appeared to belong to a fading pizza parlor, Emilio’s Ballato didn’t look like much.

Rafael waited outside for you, rubbing his gloved hands together and when you crossed the street, he smiled. He had planned the whole night to a tee and it was going to be perfect. Rafael would settle for nothing less. 

You kissed each other on the cheek and then took his hand. On the walls were framed album covers and snapshots of various stars, from stalwarts like David Bowie and Billy Joel to the titans of film, like Frank Sinatra and Martin Scorsese. 

“Mr. Barba!” A voice cried out. You looked and the voice belonged to a hulking minotaur of a man who was sitting like a wary sentry at the first table. He was armed with a cup of espresso that looked like a thimble in the paws of a giant.

“Emilio!” Rafael greeted in return. The two men broke into Italian and you cocked your brow. You had no idea what they were saying and when ‘Emilio’ looked past Rafael and to you, you waved with a small smile.

“Come this way. I have a table in the back - more private.” Emilio replied in a thick Italian accent. “Welcome to my restaurant. We will make sure you’re taken care of.”

A waiter came by to take your coats and winter wear. As you shimmied off your coat, Rafael found his mouth suddenly go dry. You wore a blue velvet wrap dress with long sleeves and v-neckline. Black tights and black knee high boots rounded out the look. 

“You look stunning.” Rafael complimented as he handed his camel peacoat over.

You felt your cheeks burn and you were grateful for the dimmed recessed lighting. Rafael looked equally as handsome in charcoal slacks and a white button down fitted with a navy suit jacket. 

“Thank you counselor, likewise.” You replied. Rafael was ever the gentleman, helping you to your seat first before taking his place across from you. Soft jazz music played, but not so loudly as to be interruptive to conversation. The two of you were just settling in when Rafael’s phone rang loudly. Rafael reached for his phone, looked at the caller and sent the call to voicemail.

Rafael apologized for the interruption and you waved your hand, while shaking your head. “No worries.”

Another waiter came by, with a bottle of red wine, compliments of the house. 

“So what “in” do you have in this place?” You asked as you took a sip of the wine. 

“Emilio - back in the day when I was an A.D.A, had a family member who was assaulted. I was the prosecutor on the case. I put away a violent sociopath and rapist for a very long time. Emilio told me I was always welcome to the restaurant. I - I never really had anyone to bring here.” Rafael replied.

“Until now.” You finished, chewing on a sesame breadstick. 

“Until you.” Rafael clarified, causing your heart to flutter. 

Over dinner, you got to know each other better. You discussed how you ended up on the lawyer track and how you were study buddies with Carisi and Marjorie. 

He shared his fascination with The Waves by Virginia Woolf and The Count of Monte Cristo. Rafael went into passionate detail for the French literary classic by Dumas, recounting "This is the first book I remember my father giving me to read. It was my favorite book growing up. It's an easy read. I was a boy in middle school. I fell in love with the world and the drama of it. What’s your favorite novel?”

Again, Rafael’s phone rang, interrupting. Rafael let out a quiet swear as he reached for his phone. “I swear, I put it on vibrate.”

“Someone’s mighty popular.” You gave him a wink as you reached for your glass of wine.

Rafael blinked and let out a deep exhalation. “So you were going to tell me about your favorite novel.”

Rafael reached for your hand across the table and you were about to grasp it, when the waiter arrived to serve dinner. You jumped back slightly as the food was placed before you. Rafael had pasta with mussels, while you had pasta cacio e pepe. 

Picking up your fork, you nodded. “Love in the Time of Cholera. Florentino Ariza suffers from lovesickness as one would suffer from cholera, enduring both physical and emotional pains as he longs for Fermina Daza.” 

Rafael cocked his brow. “For my taste, there are too many long passages of exposition with Garcia Marquez explaining what the characters are going through. But as easy as the story is to follow, and as seductive as it is, it never gives away what is really going on.”

You scoffed. “So I suppose you don’t believe love conquers all?”

Rafael gave you a coy smile. “In the end we’re all passing through.” You laughed and it was music to his ears. 

More wine was had and conversation flowed easily. Emilio insisted that you both stay for dessert. At some point, your chair shifted and you were sitting right next to Rafael as you split vanilla panna cotta. Rafael’s eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips as you licked the spoon clean. You put the spoon down and could feel the sexual tension rising. As soon as you reached for him, you accidentally knocked over your glass of red wine, and it spilled in the direction of Rafael, all over his white shirt.

“Oh fuck, I am so sorry.” You apologized profusely as you frantically dabbed at his shirt with the cloth napkin. 

“It’s okay; it’s just clothing.” Rafael replied as he too blotted the stain.

“It’s not.” You disagreed. “Here I am, trying to make a good impression, ya know, be all charming and sexy for you - the Rafael Barba - and instead I am a klutz. Ugh, that is going to set if we don’t take care of it.”

“Did you say sexy?” Rafael questioned, a smile dancing on his lips. 

You opened your mouth to reply when Rafael’s phone rang again interrupting your thoughts. Rafael threw the napkin on the table, letting out an irritated sigh. When he saw the name, he held up a finger. “Let me just answer this.”

“Liv, what is-- yes now is not a good time.” Rafael hissed into the phone. “Tomorrow. That’s all I got. Okay. Okay. Talk then.”

Rafael tossed his phone onto the table and threw his head back, rubbing his hands over his face.” When he sat up, he noticed the bemused look on your face. You reached up and began dabbing his shirt once more. 

“It’s really not a big deal.” Rafael replied softly. He grabbed your wrists gently, pausing your movements. His hands were warm and they circled your wrists easily. 

You allowed yourself to relax in his grasp and crinkled your nose. “It really is going to set. We should go and clean it. Otherwise it’s ruined. And this shirt is nice; it’d be a shame for it to get tossed.”

“At this hour? And where?” Rafael replied incredulously as he signaled the waiter for the check.

“We… could go to your place.” You suggested softly. “I am pretty good with stains. Just need some salt, boiling water, and white vinegar.”

Stunned silence followed - it was brief, but it felt like an eternity when he spoke again. “Sure.”

**

It didn’t take long to get to Rafael’s. “I am so sorry again.” You apologized as you stepped off the elevator.

“Accidents happen.” Rafael replied as he led you down the hall to his apartment. If anyone had told you that you would be on a date with Rafael Barba, you would have laughed in their face and asked them for some of the good stuff that they were smoking. But here you, in front of a rather ordinary door marked 6C. Once inside, Rafael turned on the light and you took in the apartment before you. It was freakishly spotless and you wondered if you had entered a living ad for Architectural Digest. The apartment was sleek and modern but carried a warm ambiance. Colorful artwork hung off the walls and there was a built in walled library filled with all sorts of legal texts and what appeared to be vinyls. His apartment smelled like a mixture of leather and tobacco and books plus whatever cologne he had donned. 

“I’ll go get changed.” Rafael replied. “The kitchen is over that way and there is vinegar and salt in the cupboards. You nodded and made way, rummaging through his kitchen. His cupboards were as meticulous as his apartment and you smiled at the things that you found as you searched for the items you needed to clean the stain, like a box of peanut butter cap ‘n’ crunch.

You found the salt and vinegar when Rafael came back with his ruined clothes. He had changed into another undershirt and a pair of dark jeans. You felt the air get sucked out of his chest at the sight of him so casual. A tuft of chest hair poked out of the v-neckline and a gold chain glinted in the light. You took the clothes and spread them out on his kitchen counter and set to work. 

“Want anything to drink?” Rafael asked. 

“Water would be nice.” You managed to squeak out before you tackled the stains. Rafael watched you as you methodically worked out the stains. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and he found you adorable.

Rafael placed a small glass of water by you and then walked over to his music collection before choosing a record to play. The all too familiar instrumental notes of one of your favorite songs began to play. 

“Is that--?” You paused, looking at him curiously.

“Vitamin String Quartet.” Rafael expanded. “Lana del Rey.”

“Never had you pegged as a Lana del Rey fan.” You murmured continuing to work on the stain. 

“Plato said that music is moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” Rafael stated. “I have a very eclectic taste in music and if you go through my collection, you’ll find everything from Biggie to Celia Cruz to Lana del Rey to Prince - and everything else in between.”

“Impressive.” You replied. 

“And what would you have me pegged as?” Rafael prodded. He had also poured himself a glass of water. 

You stopped and looked up at him. You were overwhelmed by how handsome he is. Eyes that were biscay green and a strong aquiline nose. His hair, now bordering on more silver, than salt and pepper, made your hands twitch, as if your muscles instinctively wanted to run through it. You licked your lips and sucked in your bottom lip. You didn’t miss how his eyes darkened. 

“You’re the infamous Rafael Barba. Boy wonder. Taking on cases that everyone ducks with your big, brass…” Rafael’s eyebrow cocks and you smirk as you finish, “ego.”

“And baby killer.” Rafael interjected. His tone was acidic.

You flinched. “You’re not a baby killer.”

Rafael cocked his head. “Aren’t I?”

“Depends on the jury.” You replied, walking over to him, crossing your arms, which only served to push up your tits more. “But really, I don’t think of you like that. I know there is more to a person than just that one thing.”

“Not according to the court of public opinion.” Rafael managed to croak as his eyes drifted to your chest. “There is a reason I have kept a low profile all this time.”

You closed the gap between you and him and pressed your palms against his chest. He was solid and warm. You could feel his pectoral muscles twitch. A spark shot through your body, settling between your legs.

Rafael’s hands settled on your hips. The velvet of your dress was softer than he imagined and he could picture the dress pooling down at your feet. Part of him wished that the date had gone better. It did not go as well as he had planned.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” Rafael murmured as he wrapped his arms loosely around your hips. “This was not what I had planned for us at all.”

“I’m not.” You replied, looking up at him. You now wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing even closer against him. “I don’t need fancy dinners. I am just happy to spend time with you. I really had a good time. I am sorry about the shirt, but it seems all fine now.”

Rafael searched your eyes. The tension in the room shifted. Your heart began to pound and your breathing became more shallow. 

“I… the stain… it’s lifted.” You whispered shakily. Rafael lowered his eyes to your lips and recalled how good it felt to kiss them. He wanted to do it again. So he did. You didn’t hold back, moaning as his mouth crashed against yours. He pressed his mouth against yours with more force, crushing them. He took the opportunity to trace his tongue against the seam of your lips, seeking entrance to your mouth.  You acquiesced his request by parting your lips, and he deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth. You responded in turn by pulling his bottom lip, sucking and nipping. His chest rumbled. Rafael lifted you up, his hands going to your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your feet around his hips. 

Rafael carried you to the couch, walking backwards until he felt the couch and threw himself down, bringing you with him. You let out a squeak but that turned into another moan as his lips found purchase along your neck and he took the opportunity to suck a bruising mark into your skin. 

Your nipples were hard like diamonds and the strip of material that dared call itself underwear was ruined. Rafael’s hands slid down your back to your ass and he gave each cheek a squeeze. 

You rolled your hips, feeling how hard he was beneath you and then slid your hands under his shirt and through his chest hair, confirming how solid he was. You raked your nails down his chest and Rafael let out a groan of a man who had been denied too long. “Oh Rafael.” You breathed into his ear as you pressed kisses upwards along his neck to his cheek and then to his earlobe where you sucked and flicked your tongue against the thin flesh.

“Keep that up and I’ll…” Rafael groaned. His hands move to the front of your dress squeezing. You pulled away reluctantly and looked into his eyes, which were blown with lust.

“So soon old man?” You winked. “We’re just getting started.”

“I am not that old.” Rafael retorted. 

“Even if you were - which you’re not, it wouldn’t stop me.” You replied before ducking down to kiss him once more. You rolled your hips again, grinding harder against him. You took his hands and placed them on your breasts, sighing as he squeezed them. His fingers moved to play with your nipples and when he gave them a firm but gentle pinch, you couldn't help but shudder. You were melting under his touch.

You were just about to tell him to take you to bed so you could ride him into next week, when your phone began to sound. 

“I should get that.” You replied, giving him an apologetic look. 

You climbed off and Rafael let out another groan, his eyes laser focused on your ass as you walked away. “Mierda.”

“It’s SVU. They need me to come down.” You replied as you checked your phone. 

Rafael let out a deep sigh. “Do you want me to come down with you?”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s late Y/N, let me at least walk you over to the precinct. It’s a few blocks away.”

“Okay.” You relented. 

The walk over was quick. You got to the steps of the precinct and looked up at the door and then at him. “Raincheck?”

Rafael nodded. “Raincheck.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then you bounded up the stairs, turning to give him a quick wave. Rafael watched you until you were gone. He dropped his head as he began to trek back home.

‘What a fucking disaster.’ He thought miserably. He looked at his hands before he shoved them in his pockets. ‘I guess it's just us for tonight.’

TBC.

Tag list: @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @delia26omg-blog @mgarner1227@beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03  @beccabarba @garturbo​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @cesarofangirl78​ @redlipstickandplaid​ @redlipstickandblacktea​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @differentshadesofgray​ @misssirenlove​ @esparza-army​ @bananas-pajamas​ @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie​ @theenchantedgalleryofstories​ @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty​ @ktiz90​ @evee87​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @detective-giggles​ @rampantmuses​ @jazzyjoi​ @caked-crusader​ @rachelxwayne​ @prurientpuddlejumper​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02​ @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents​ @qvid-pro-qvo​ @alwaysachorusgirl​

[sylvanfreckles]

Fever Dreams

Summary: Castiel caught a bad chest cold and Sam stayed behind to look after him.

Just some soft times with these two, because I don't give them enough time together.

The Flare 'Verse, if you're not familiar with it, started Here and continued Here. Basically, Cas is human because Naomi burned his grace out in a ritual to elevate herself to a higher level. It's left him with scars and chronic pain, and the Winchesters are doing their best to take care of him. I'm still working on the first chronological story, but this one grabbed me and wouldn't let go.

...

Sam looked up from his book as the blankets on the bed rustled. He waited for a few seconds until the figure in the bed shifted around again, then set his book aside and gently pulled the blankets down enough to reveal Cas's tousled hair and pinched face.

He rested the back of his hand on the ex-angel's forehead, frowning a little at the temperature, then carded his fingers through the dark hair until he reached Cas's neck. The muscles there were tight, and Sam gently rubbed his thumb back and forth while he half-sat on the bed to be closer.

“Just a dream, Cas,” he murmured. “You're home safe. Just a dream.” It was just the two of them in the bunker at the moment—Dean was on a case, Eileen was meeting up with some old friends, and Jack was still trying to find something to help Cas's condition.

A sympathetic smile crept across his face when Cas's eyes cracked open, only to turn to a grimace of concern when the dark-haired man started coughing.

“Up you get, come on.” He slid one arm behind Cas's shoulders and gently pulled the other man up, then fumbled for the box of tissues to pass a handful to Cas.

The ex-angel might have muttered his thanks, but the tissues were pressed against his mouth as he leaned against Sam and coughed. Sam winced in sympathy and gently rubbed his friend's back, careful to avoid the sensitive scars left by Naomi's ritual.

“Ready to eat something?”

Cas shook his head and just leaned his weight against Sam. They didn't know if it was because of the way his grace had been burned out of him or just a consequence of taking human form, but Cas had trouble maintaining his body temperature now. He usually ended up curled up against the closest warm thing, whether that be a heating pad or a Winchester.

“C'mon, Cas,” Sam pleaded. “If you don't eat something Dean will never leave us alone again. He texted a dozen times while you were asleep, I'm surprised he didn't ask for a picture so he could make sure I was tucking you in the right way.”

That earned him a snort of laughter, and Sam gently pushed himself off the bed and started to lay Cas back down. “I'll bring you something, okay?”

“Wait,” Cas, voice still crackling with congestion, caught Sam's sleeve in one hand. “Not here.”

Sam raised his eyebrows high enough that he felt his hairline shift. “You need to rest, Cas. This is the best place for that.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably and stared up at Sam, somehow managing to look far too pathetic, even for a chronically ill ex-angel with a chest cold. “I need to move. I feel...confined.”

He understood that, a little. Dean could be a mother hen sometimes, and a chest cold rarely needed strict bedrest. Besides, the TV room had a deep, comfortable couch now, and Cas could rest there.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Sam offered as he helped tug the blankets away from Cas's legs. “We've still got the rest of that documentary series on deep-sea plant and animal life.”

They'd been actually really fun to watch together. When he'd been an angel, Cas had liked to venture to the depths of the ocean to study the patterns of life there, and there had been a few times he'd actually recognized the filming locations from personal experience. Sam had also ordered another set of documentaries on the ancient world, but that was mostly so Cas could point out the errors and explain everything the archaeologists were getting wrong. It was one of the things Dean rolled his eyes about and called them nerds, but they were all secretly pleased to see Cas's enthusiasm after those first long months of pain.

Sam started to hook his arm under Cas's legs to carry him out of the room, but the ex-angel waved him off and scooted to the edge of the bed on his own. So Sam stood back and held his arm out, bent at the elbow, so Cas could use it to pull himself to his feet and steady himself to walk.

“How is Dean?” Cas asked as they shuffled down the hall.

“He's pretending to be mad it's the library that's haunted and not the gym,” Sam said with a shake of his head. Dean took it personally when kids were in danger, and word of a poltergeist at a middle school had him out the door in less than an hour. “I think he's more relieved it's a spirit and not a psychic phenomenon.”

“And no one's around for his Ghostbusters references,” Cas added blandly.

Sam had to laugh. “Those too. 'Imagine, Sammy, a ghost in a library and it's not even an old lady',” he said, pitching his voice a little lower to imitate his brother.

“'He slimed me',” Cas whined, though it dissolved into a cough and they had to pause while the ex-angel caught his breath. “'They're here' might be more appropriate.”

“He's got to stop making you watch those movies,” Sam shook his head as they squeezed through the door to the TV room (not Dean Cave. Never calling it that). “This whole 'Hunting 101', it's not how it works. Real hunting isn't anything like that.”

Cas didn't answer until he was settled on one side of the u-shaped couch, sitting up in one corner so he was facing the TV with his legs stretched out along one leg of the couch.

“Isn't that what makes it entertaining?” he finally asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and leaning back into the cushions.

Sam bit back his first reaction. This was Cas. Cas had been an angel for millennia before his grace had been torn out of him and left him with this frail mortal body. As much as his friend might seem innocent or naive at times, he still knew how to separate fact from fiction. “Sorry.”

“Just don't let Jack see them,” Cas continued, and Sam had to laugh at that. God...or demi-god? Elevated nephilim? Something more? Anyway, powerful though Jack might be, Sam wasn't sure he could ever see him as more than that wide-eyed kid who just wanted his father.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, patting Cas on the shoulder. There would be cream of chicken soup and apple slices in the fridge, and that would be enough to satisfy Dean the next time his older brother checked in.

Maybe.

…

They were forty-five minutes into a documentary about the Great Barrier Reef when Sam noticed Cas was shifting uncomfortably in his place on the couch.

“Cas?” Sam paused the movie and half-turned on the couch to study his friend. “You okay? Need to go back to bed?” He was sitting beside him, close enough to touch if Cas needed help, but did his best to make sure his friend didn't feel too crowded.

Cas shook his head, but Sam could still tell something was wrong. He had drank the entire mug of soup and eaten almost all of the apple slices Sam had brought, so he probably wasn't hungry. He wasn't due for more cold medicine for over an hour. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

There was a heavy sigh, then Cas slumped against the couch. “It's cold.”

Cold. They'd learned to hate that word. If Cas got too cold he could have one of those awful flares of pain, and end up curled up and miserable for hours. They tried to head it off by tucking him back in bed with hot water bottles and heating pads, but he'd actually been enjoying sitting on the couch to watch a movie so Sam was reluctant to pack him away in his isolated bedroom.

“Hang on, here.” Sam scooted closer and tugged Cas's blanket free. He slid one arm behind his friend's back and tucked Cas in close against him before spreading the blanket back over the two of them. “One Winchester heating pad, at your service.”

“Sam...”

“Hey, I have body heat to spare,” Sam teased. “Come on.”

Cas was still reluctant. “You might get sick.”

“I might get it anyway,” he replied. “Colds get passed around, Cas, that's the truth of it.”

There were a few more seconds of hesitation, then Cas practically melted against him. They spent a few moments rearranging themselves on the couch, ending up with Sam propping one foot on the side of the couch next to Cas's legs with his arm around Cas's shoulders, and Cas leaning his head on Sam's shoulder until his hair almost brushed the tall hunter's neck.

“This isn't personal space?” Cas asked. He probably didn't mean to sound so pathetic, it was just the cold making his voice croak like that.

“I don't have personal space,” Sam joked. “You think I could live in the car with Dean for so long if I did?”

Cas seemed to consider that, then nodded and seemed to relax even further against Sam. “He's very sensitive about such things,” he murmured sleepily.

“What's that?”

In answer, Cas mumbled something into Sam's collarbone. Sam glanced down, grinning when he realized Cas had fallen asleep almost as soon as they'd gotten re-settled. He left the documentary paused and reached for his book, figuring it was time to get a few more chapters in.

His phone buzzed on the couch beside him and he picked it up, seeing yet another text from Dean.

“Hey, Dean wants to know how you're feeling,” he whispered to Cas.

Cas grunted, face still buried in Sam's shoulder. “Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.”

Sam bit back a snort of laughter. “No baseball,” he agreed. Cas talking in other languages in his sleep was nothing new, though at least it was German this time and Sam could almost understand him. He texted back that Cas had eaten and was sleeping, then after another moment's thought held the camera out and took a selfie.

He looked the picture over with a smile before sending it off to Dean. In it Sam was leaning back against the couch with a big grin on his face, and Cas had his face squashed into Sam's shoulder, already sleeping so hard he was practically drooling.

Setting the phone face-down on the couch, he picked his book back up and ignored the repeated vibrations of his brother's reply messages. Cas was all right, Dean needed to focus on his case, and he really wanted to get through another chapter or two before he had to wake Cas for his next dose of medicine.

“No baseball,” he repeated, squeezing Cas's shoulders in a sideways hug. “Just get some rest.”

...

End notes:

The first two quotations Sam and Cas say are from the first Ghostbusters movie, and the second one Cas says is from the Poltergeist movie.

“Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.” - rough German translation of "You can't play baseball here". I used an online translator, so I apologize if it's incorrect. It's not a line from anything, I just wanted some random dream-talk. (Now corrected thanks to the lovely @slipper007! I couldn't do accents in my word processor, so thanks for the alternate spelling! I'll remember that!)

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (8/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 39,139

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

Sitting in the passenger seat of Judy’s car, Dani watched with unseeing eyes the familiar streets lined with trees and buildings she’d passed through a thousand times. Vaguely aware of the whorl of nerves coiling in her stomach, her thumb drifted to her mouth where she bit hard into the nail and skin.

“Nervous?” Judy asked from beside her.

“No,” Dani lied.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Eddie said from the back seat, “She’s already qualified for State.”

“She’s never participated in an event this big before, idiot,” said Carson.

“Language,” Judy reprimanded with a stern stare to the rearview mirror, and then offered Dani a short, reassuring smile, “Don't be nervous, honey. Jamie’s going to do great.”

“I didn’t say I was,” Dani mumbled, but even as she said so, her heart rate picked up when they turned the corner and North Liberty High came into view. The school parking lot was already filling up by the time they pulled in, cars familiar and unfamiliar alike roving down lanes looking for space.

“Should’ve just walked,” Judy muttered under her breath as she expertly wove through vehicles and visitors crossing the lot.

Eventually Carson spotted a space and had to be physically pulled back by Eddie from running out the car to stand guard in the parking space for Judy. Finally parked and exiting Judy’s car, Dani exhaled softly in the spring air, her eyes zeroing on the modest stadium where she knew Jamie would already be and worried her lower lip with her teeth.

Eddie took one look at her and fondly rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said, grasping her wrist lightly, “I’m sure she already thinks she’s won anyways.”

“Probably, yeah.”

He smiled at her, a boyish grin that belied the growth he had gone through over the past year. He had shot up a foot, having grown out his lanky limbs into a broader frame that was more suited to his athletic occupations. Jamie had been quietly bitter over the development, having grown no higher herself, but it hadn’t stopped her from relentlessly mocking Eddie at one point for turning into a tree. By now used to Jamie’s teasing, Eddie hadn’t hesitated to turn Jamie’s mocking back on herself for inadvertently making a Tolkein reference. His smug smirk had faltered when Jamie merely gave him a dry blank stare and was gone altogether when she unceremoniously shoved him into a snowbank.

Shooting Eddie a faint smile now, Dani let him ease open her clenched fist to clasp their hands and lead them after Judy and Carson towards the stadium. It was nothing more than a large green turf and red track with bleachers and an announcers booth, but for a town as small as theirs, it was well suited to accommodate nearly the entire town.

The stands were already peppered with spectators in their seats. The pitch and the red track circling it already occupied by students warming up, and organizers, volunteers, and coaches milling about. As they climbed the steps, looking for enough space to seat the four of them, Dani couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to cast her eyes around the field in search of a familiar head of dark curls, pressing her mouth together and squinting in the afternoon sun.

“Oh, over here!” Carson said, taking two steps at a time up the bleachers. Eddie tugged gently on her hand, guiding her attention away from the field and towards the seats Carson had found.

Once settled in between Carson and Eddie, Dani dug in her bag and pulled out her camera. Her pride and joy that she had gotten secondhand from a camera store in Cedar Rapids during one Christmas holiday after saving up months of her allowance. She stood from her seat and put the viewfinder up against her eye, adjusting until the entire field was in clear view. The camera gave a satisfying click when she pressed the shutter button and advanced the film.

Keeping the viewfinder against her eye in the pretense of taking another photo, Dani scanned the field, searching again for Jamie. But even from this distance, just a few rows away from the brick barricade separating the bleachers and the field, Dani couldn’t spot her anywhere.

Pulling the camera down, Dani said, “Um - I’ll be right back.“

“Where are you going?” Eddie asked with a curious frown.

“I’m going to look for Jamie.”

Carson’s eyes lit up and he shot up from his seat to follow as Dani began shuffling back down the bench. “I’m coming too!”

“Wish her good luck for us,” Judy said.

“I will.” Shooting Judy and Eddie a grin over her shoulder, Dani descended the stands with Carson following behind. “Do you see her anywhere?”

Carson bounced on his toes, craning his neck once they reached the barricade and shook his head. “You think if I climb this thing to get a better view, we’ll be in trouble?” Carson asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tapped a hand against the ledge of the wall.

“I’m not letting you climb the barricade, Carson,” Dani said dryly.

“Not even for a cool picture?”

“No.”

“Just one?”

“No,” Dani laughed, and tugged him away by the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Come on, let’s check over here.”

“Does this place have vending machines?” Carson asked as they searched.

“Are you always thinking about food?” Dani asked, “I thought your mom brought snacks already.”

“She brought carrots and celery, that doesn’t count,” Carson grumbled.

Dani fondly shook her head, but didn’t deign to answer. The afternoon sun beated hot against Dani’s neck as they traversed through the stands, doing nothing to help the nerves under her skin. Scanning the turf, Dani only saw groups of students from multiple schools in their track uniforms of varying colors warming up and conversing together. Keeping an eye out for North Liberty’s distinct blue and white colors, Dani finally located a group further along the field past the stands, where the turf was separated by a tall chain link fence instead of brick.

Placing a hand over her eyes to block the sun, Dani squinted and was just able to make out Jamie’s head of curls as she warmed up with her teammates. Dani grinned at the sight of her, a warmth of pride settling over her.

“There she is,” Carson said, and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, “Jamie!”

Jamie straightened upright and turned towards the sound with furrowed brows, brightening when she spotted them. She said something to who Dani recognized as Jamie’s coach before jogging her way over with a broad smile.

“Fancy seeing you lot here,” Jamie said when she reached them.

“Wanted to wish you good luck,” Carson said.

“Thanks,” Jamie said, “Appreciate that.”

Jamie smiled, but even as there was a tension to the lines of her mouth and her shoulders, she looked every bit a track athlete. She was already covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the hot weather and warm up. Her hair pulled back in a bun, a burst of freckles on her nose and the bluff of her cheeks from hours spent in the sun, and the uniform in their school colors had a race number bib attached to her shirt. Dani lingered on a strand of hair dangling over Jamie’s ear, itching to smooth it away.

“Dani’s nervous for you,” Carson said with a cheeky grin. Dani shot him a dirty look.

“Is she now?” Jamie said, a smirk slowly growing on her face, “Have no faith in me, Poppins?”

Dani sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know you’re not asking me that,” she said, “You’re going to do great.”

“Yeah, just try not to forget us little people when you make it big when you win gold at State,” Carson said, laughing and bouncing away when Jamie sneaked a hand through the fence to pinch his arm. “Now, seriously. Does this place have vending machines or not?”

Dani and Jamie shared a glance and they both shrugged. “Never seen one,” Dani said.

“Shit out of luck,” Jamie said with another smirk.

“God, this place sucks,” Carson groaned, and just as he said so, a voice over the speakers appeared to announce the event starting soon. “Guess we should head back.”

“You go ahead,” Dani said, taking a step closer towards the fence. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Carson saluted as he began backstepping away, and gave Jamie one last broad smile. “Good luck, Jamie! Bring home the bacon!”

Sending a salute back, Jamie chuckled as they watched him march away. “He does remember I don’t like bacon right?” She asked when he was out of ear shot.

“He has been obsessing over food lately,” Dani mused with a tilt of her head. When she turned to face Jamie, she was met with Jamie already looking at her with a fond grin. “So, how are you feeling?”

Jamie shrugged, folding her arms and leaning a shoulder against the fence as she turned to scan the field. “Good. Excited. Ready to go and sweep this lot off the board,” she said with a nod of her chin towards the turf.

“Sure, you’re just bouncing off the walls,” Dani said dryly, taking in the stony expression in the slant of Jamie’s profile and the taut lines of her jaw. Jamie huffed out a breath of laughter and gave Dani a faint wry grin. Dan’s smile softened. “How are you really?”

Exhaling slowly, Jamie shrugged again, pushing off against the fence to shift her weight from foot to foot. Fingers tapping restlessly against her arm. “I’m all right,” Jamie said, and met her eyes, “I promise.”

Looking at her for a quiet moment, Dani said, “I’m sorry Nan couldn’t make it.”

Jamie shook her head lightly. “Mikey’s been acting up, and so’s her knee. S’not a big deal, really,” she said, “Besides, the old cow promised to be there for the State Championships in Des Moines. I’d rather have her there, than here. And I know she’s put you up to taking a hundred photos for her, so there’s that.”

“I only brought two film rolls.”

Jamie tutted. “Slacker.”

Chuckling softly, Dani softened when the tension in Jamie’s shoulders remained. She couldn’t help but repeat, “You’re going to do great.”

“I know,” Jamie said, visibly refraining from rolling her eyes.

“Then prove it.”

Jamie paused and blinked at her. Her mouth slowly curved into a smile. “Prove it, huh?”

Dani nodded. “Win something today, and I’ll write your English essay for you. And I’ll buy lunch for a week.”

Eyes looking Dani up and down, scrutinizing her with an arched eyebrow, Jamie said, “Bullshit, you won’t.”

Gamely, Dani held up her pinky finger through the fence. Jamie’s eyes flickered down to it and she chuckled, shaking her head. “You drive a hard bargain,” she said, and linked their pinkies. With a pleased smile, Dani made to pull her hand away, but Jamie tangled their fingers against the warm metal fence, holding on tight with a smirk. “And if I lose -?”

“You won’t.”

Jamie snorted, but still held fast. “If I lose terribly, what do I get then?”

Feigning to think for a moment, Dani tilted her head and pursed her lips. “A tin of mint and deodorant.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

Dani laughed, and finally said, “I’ll stop making you listen to disco.”

Jamie’s eyes lit up. “A girl after my own heart,” she said, “Maybe I should lose after all.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Dani said, jostling their hands, laughing when Jamie winked. An idea suddenly occurred to her. “Here, wait.”

Wiggling her hand free from Jamie’s tight grasp with breathless laughter, Dani pulled her blue scrunchie out of her hair, smoothing her hair from its ponytail. “Give me your hand,” she said, and waited until Jamie pushed her hand through the chain link fence to wrap the scrunchie around her wrist. “There. A favor, for good luck.”

Jamie didn’t respond for a long moment, staring quietly down at the scrunchie with an unreadable expression. “Thanks,” she murmured finally, her eyes flickering to Dani’s, her expression warm with a teasing quirk to her mouth, “I’ll make sure to bring it back to you in one piece.”

“You better,” Dani said, “That’s my favorite one.”

“Noted.”

“Now, come on, quick. I want to take before and after photos.”

Jamie groaned and fussed, but eventually acquiesced to Dani’s wishes. She stepped back just enough for Dani to poke the camera lens through the fence to get a wide shot of her. Only appearing just slightly bashful and annoyed with good-natured grumbling under the attention, Jamie smiled broadly, her hair russet under the sun as the shutter clicked. Just as Dani advanced the film, Jamie crossed her eyes as Dani sneaked another shot.

“Really?” Dani said, pulling down the camera to give Jamie a look.

Just as Jamie shrugged, giving her a look of pure innocence, there was another announcement on the stereo system. “That’s my cue,” Jamie said, already slowly backing up. “Try not to worry too much.”

Dani rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Good luck.”

“Got all the luck I need right here,” Jamie said, holding up her wrist to display Dani’s scrunchie, and winked before starting towards the turf in a jog. Dani watched her go with a fond smile.

When Dani finally returned to the O’Mara’s, Eddie wasn’t in his seat. “Where’s Eddie?” She asked Carson when she sat down.

“Over there,” Carson said, pointing a little ways away across the stands. Dani blinked in surprised to find Eddie sitting next to Roger, the pair chatting happily. Before Dani could even inquire, Judy was handing her a bottle of sunscreen.

“How is she, honey?” Judy asked.

“A little nervous, but I think she’s going to be okay,” she replied, absentmindedly applying sunscreen to her skin, her attention flickering over towards Eddie and Roger curiously.

“And she has two events today?”

“Just three,” Dani replied, “She has another three tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. Another day of stress,” Carson muttered.

Handing the sunscreen bottle to Carson, Dani watched as Eddie stood, gesturing towards their little group. Roger’s eyes flitted over and caught Dani’s. She sent him a small wave and smile that he returned before he bid Eddie goodbye.

“I’ve been to more games and sporting events than I can think, but it never gets any easier,” Judy said, chuckling, “Watching you kids put your heart and soul into your interests and have to watch you compete afterwards. Always puts me on the edge of my seat.”

“That’s why I got into drumming,” Carson said.

“You mean giving me a headache,” Judy replied, laughing when Carson rolled his eyes. She ran an affectionate hand over his hair. Of all the O’Mara boys, he was the only one to happily receive such affection without self-consciously shrinking away.

Eddie returned to his seat at that moment, grinning at her. “All good?”

Dani nodded, and asked, “Was that Roger?”

“Oh, yeah. Thought I’d go say hi.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Eddie shrugged. “Just likes track, I guess.”

With a faint frown, Dani spared another curious glance over to Roger to find him leaning his elbows on his knees, watching the field with an eager interest. Shrugging, Dani returned her attention to the field, scanning the area where she had found Jamie, and finding her again, clustered around her coach and team as the conference gradually began. She exhaled slowly, a feeling of anxious energy building under skin, a burbling that didn’t dissipate even through the first event Jamie wasn’t even participating in.

She’d been here before. Watching Jamie’s previous track meets, happily cheering her on. Sitting on the sidelines during Eddie’s baseball games or tennis matches. Supporting and heckling the twins in equal measure during their own individual sporting events. She’d been nervous and exhilliterated. But not like this. Not when Jamie seemed so determined for the first time to make something of this. For putting in the effort and concentration that she only spared for her gardening, and occasionally the people surrounding her. With all the pressure building within her chest and coiling her shoulders, all Dani could do was wait and watch as events flew by.

They were relegated to watching nearly an hour of long distance events, before finally the relays began. In the few years Dani’s spent watching Jamie’s races, she’s learned a thing or two — that their school fell under the 2A classification, meaning Jamie and her team would be racing second for all events. The first race went by without any fanfare from their group, but when Jamie and her teammates lined up on the track as the second group to race, Dani could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

“Oh, I can’t watch,” Judy groaned, burying her face in her palm.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Carson said, his eyes glued to the field.

“Is she though?” Eddie said warily, “She’s good, but this is her weakest event.”

“What would you know?” Carson said, “You’re a third baseman.”

Eddie sputtered. “What -? What does that even mean?”

“Means you suck at running.”

“Third base is hard! And - and I’m a power hitter!” Eddie said, “And I’m just saying — that girl Sara slows the team down.”

“And you’re slowing my brain cells.”

“Could you both shut up,” Dani groaned, struggling to not pull at her hair.

They both blessedly stopped bickering over her head with sheepish grins. Dani didn’t really notice. She was too busy watching Jamie warm up at her spot as the fourth runner in the relay in what Dani had learned was the anchor position. The most important of all four racers. From this distance, Dani couldn’t see Jamie’s face but from the way she couldn’t seem to keep still, Dani knew she was anxious to go.

When the first runners got in position at the starting blocks, they watched with bated breath as the starting pistol was triggered and they shot off. Dani could barely watch, knowing Eddie was right in some form or another. The team was good, but not enough to pull ahead all together. When the baton was finally in Jamie’s hands and she took off like a shot around the last bend, not even her speed could catch up with the runners ahead of her. Dani felt her stomach sink when Jamie crossed the finish line in fourth place and slowed to a stop, hands on her hips, and even from where they were sitting, she looked —

“Oh,” Eddie murmured, wincing, “I’ve seen that face before. She’s - uh.”

“Pissed?” Carson finished for him wryly.

“It’s all right,” Judy said, patting Carson’s arm, though she sounded just as anxious as before, “Just shaking off the nerves now. She’s got two more events.”

Dani exhaled slowly, eyes unmoving from Jamie, watching as she marched off the track with tightened fists. Her expression stony and her jaw visibly clenched. Dani’s thumb drifted between her teeth as Jamie fiddled with the scrunchie around her wrist and made her way over to her teammates and coach. A hand wrapped around Dani’s own wrist, pulling her thumb gently away from her mouth. She blinked at Eddie as his hand drifted down from her wrist to hold hers in a loose grasp.

“She’s fine,” he said with a reassuring grin. “She’s got the four hundred next. That’s her bread and butter, remember?”

She bit her lip and nodded, letting him hold her hand for a moment before pulling away to join Carson on stress eating the snacks Judy had brought for them. They were indeed of the healthy kind, but of the celery and peanut butter, and carrots and dip variety. As she ate, the reassurance of Jamie’s strongest race settled her nerves somewhat. She’d always been better at the middle distance races than full on sprints or the lengthy marathons. And by the restless energy Dani could see as Jamie paced the turf like a caged beast, Dani knew the previous loss would spur on whatever storm was brewing within her.

They settled in to watching races they didn’t particularly care for but commented mindlessly on anyways. Beside her, Carson was gnawing on a helpless piece of carrot as he kept up mindless anxious chatter with Judy while Eddie restlessly bounced his knee. Feeling far-flung and overwrought, Dani almost nudged him hard in the ribs to get him to stop, feeling the seat vibrate beneath her from the movement, when finally the four hundred meters event was announced to start.

Even as they were made to sit through the boys races before the girls could go, Dani inhaled a slow steadying breath, her fists clenched in her lap and clutching at the fabric of her dress until finally, it was time. The crowd seemed just as eager to get the race going just as much as they did, having cheered wildly during the boys races. The sound reverberated in Dani’s chest as they watched the first round of girls line up at the starting blocks and take off down the track, rounding the entire turf and crossing the line. A small group further along the stands cheered loudly at the resulting winner.

“Think that’ll be us in five minutes?” Carson said, and chuckled, sounding just short of strained as beside him, Judy clutched her cross necklace with her eyes closed, murmuring a prayer under her breath.

Dani didn’t answer, zeroing her eyes on Jamie immediately, as though tethered together by a thread, watching as Jamie made her way to the fifth lane. Brow furrowed, shoulders rigid, and fiddling again with the blue scrunchie. Dani pushed to her feet, biting her lip as her stomach coiled uncomfortably. Vaguely aware of the others following suit, Dani took another photo just for something to do with her hands than to ring them together or to bite deep into the skin of her thumb.

Jamie visibly exhaled between pursed lips and turned to scan the crowd with a piercing stare, hands braced on her hips. Carson waved enthusiastically, calling Jamie’s name. At the sound, Jamie’s gaze flickered to their location and when she finally spotted them, they cheered and waved. With a faint smile and nod, Jamie raised her hand in a furtive wave in return, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and returned her sharp gaze to the track, the line of her jaw taut. Dani exhaled slowly, feeling something inside her settle at the determination in Jamie’s expression. A fixed point of certainty spooling over her as Jamie got into position at the starting block.

The starting pistol went off with a small bang and Jamie took off like a shot. Dani held her breath. Arms pumping and feet pounding as she rounded the first bend, Jamie moved faster than Dani’s ever seen her. She watched with unblinking eyes, holding her breath, hearing Carson mutter encouragements under his breath, spurring Jamie on as he bounced on his toes.

“Come on, come on,” Dani murmured repeatedly.

Halfway down the track, Jamie was holding steady at third place until they reached the second bend. As though hearing Dani’s murmured prayers in the wind, a rush of energy seemed to push her forward. Like a spark had lit beneath her feet, Jamie sprinted past the remaining runners.

Carson grasped her arm. “Oh, my god. Oh, my  god. Is she -?”

“She’s pulling ahead!” Eddie finished, disbelief and excitement in his voice all at once.

Dani watched wide eyed and unhearing, her heart pounding against her ribs, cheering Jamie on with the O’Mara’s as Jamie pulled further and further ahead and crossed the finish line. Jamie slowed to a stop, breathing heavy, her hands folded behind her head, almost in disbelief as the announcer called out her time and new conference record.

Carson jostled Dani’s shoulder, cheering wildly and bouncing on his feet. Dani laughed, a swell of pride filling her chest as she watched a slow smile emerge on Jamie’s face, relief and triumph set in her shoulders as she accepted congratulations from her coach and teammates. But when Jamie turned to face the stands again, her gaze searching and landing on the group waving enthusiastically towards her, Jamie’s smile broadened and she made a beeline straight for the stands, her eyes set intently on Dani. Before Dani knew what she was doing, she was shuffling down the bench past the perplexed but laughing O’Mara’s and hopping down the stairs towards the brick barricade.

Her skin abuzz and her heart going a mile a minute, Dani laughed as Jamie hopped easily on equipment lining the barricade to scale the brickwork and hang from the ledge by her arms. She met Dani with a crooked grin and a bright glint in her eyes. “So, you were sayin’ something about free lunch?” Jamie teased.

Dani laughed and nodded. “I always keep my promises.”

“I know you do,” Jamie said with a smug smirk.

There was a bright flush to Jamie’s cheeks and a newfound cockiness about her that Dani made Dani pause, blinking down with a charmed smile. She placed a hand on Jamie’s arm that was straining against the weight of holding herself up, and leaned down to press a kiss to Jamie’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dani said.

Jamie blinked up at her, eyes just short of wide. Her mouth curved into a slow smile, affection blooming across her face. She reached up and tugged gently on a strand of Dani’s hair. “Thanks, Poppins,” she murmured, coiling the strand around a finger, “Means a lot coming from you.”

“I know,” Dani repeated, grinning when Jamie huffed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Taylor! Get down from there!”

With a grimace, the pair glanced back towards Jamie’s coach who stood scowling at them from the turf with his hand on his hips.

“Sorry!” Jamie called back, not sounding sorry at all. She turned back to Dani and shot her one last grin. “Back to it, then.”

“Good luck,” Dani said. When Jamie finally dropped down, she called out, “Wait! One more photo!”

As Jamie laughed, Dani raised her camera just in time to capture it. When she lowered the camera, Jamie winked and began stepping backwards, her mouth quirked in that cocky grin, her eyes unmoving from Dani as she raised the hem of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her face, revealing her toned stomach.

“Taylor!” barked Jamie’s coach.

Dani chuckled and shook her head as Jamie rolled her eyes. Giving Dani one last smile, she turned and jogged back on the field. Dani remained there for a moment longer, watching with keen amusement as Jamie’s coach pointed at Jamie’s shirt in a clear display of admonishment. Jamie merely shrugged in response, visibly unmoved. Snickering, Dani finally returned to her seat.

In the end, Jamie only managed to win the one medal for the day, just barely missing out on third place for the eight hundred meter event by milliseconds. But even so, Jamie didn’t seem as bothered as before from losing, still riding the high from her record making win. At the end of the day’s events during the small medal ceremony, Jamie stood with her shoulders straight as the ribbon was placed around her neck. She displayed nothing more than a small crooked grin and a nod of the head in thanks to the medal bearer, but as Dani clicked photo after photo by the barricade, the image of Jamie through the viewfinder told a different story, capturing Jamie’s quiet pride and happiness.

After the ceremony, the crowd becoming restless to disperse to their cars, Jamie sent them a wave before retreating back to the school to change. While Carson and Judy wandered down the field to take a look around and greet Jamie’s coach, Eddie remained with Dani at the barricade to watch the ongoings of the stadium as they waited for Jamie to return.

“Still nervous?” Eddie asked with a teasing grin, leaning his hip on the barricade next to her.

Dani chuckled. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You got it.”

“I still can’t believe she broke the record,” Dani said, shaking her head with a broad smile.

Eddie nodded, looking incredulous for all his reassurances. “I knew she was fast, but not that fast.”

“She’s always full of surprises.”

“She’s going to be annoying about it too,” Eddie grumbled with a good natured grin.

Dani laughed and hit him lightly in the stomach. “Don’t be mean.”

He jerked back with an exaggerated motion, pressing a hand to his stomach with a chuckle. He looked at her with quiet affection, wearing a small smile, and asked, “Have you got any plans for later today?”

“I was going to go over to Jamie’s,” Dani said, “Want to see Nan’s face when she sees Jamie’s medal.”

“Sounds fun.” He nodded again and scratched the back of his neck, a bashful smile emerging on his face. Dani’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the display. “So, I was thinking we should do something together soon. Just us.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said absently.

“I was thinking,” Eddie continued, a flush creeping up his cheeks, “We could go to the movies and get dinner some place that isn’t Big Bills for once. Or maybe to the botanical gardens. You like that place, right? We could go there and —" He paused, breathing out a laugh, “Um. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” she said dryly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Or, you could come to a party with me," he said quickly. "There's one at Roger's house next weekend. What do you say?"

Dani hesitated. “A party?”

“Yeah, I could pick you up and we could walk there? Roger just lives a few blocks away,” he said, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Biting her lip, Dani felt herself slowly nod. “Okay,” she murmured, unable to keep from smiling when his expression brightened, reaching forward to grasp her hand.

All too soon, Jamie made her return, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt as she ambled on the field, her medal proudly on display around her neck. Dani felt her shoulders drop at the sight of her, her smile softening as she watched Carson spot Jamie first and nearly took her off her feet in a running hug. Dani could hear Jamie’s laugh from here. Jamie ruffled Carson’s hair and accepted a hug from a visibly emotional Judy, letting Judy clasp her cheeks with a crooked grin and fond roll of her eyes. Beside her, Eddie laughed.

“Classic O’Mara treatment,” Eddie said, “I bet they have a whole cake planned for her.”

“And what about you?” Dani asked, still watching the scene on the field unfold.

She felt Eddie shrug. “Twenty bucks.” Dani shot him a perplexed look. He huffed out a sheepish laugh, and admitted, “She bet me she’d win gold before I could in tennis. Kinda already knew I didn’t stand a chance, but — ”  

“You couldn’t resist,” Dani finished for him, rolling her eyes. “Idiots. The both of you.”

“You love us,” Eddie said with a broad grin, and nodded his head towards the field, “C’mon, they’re waiting for us.”

Her hand still clasped in Eddie’s, he guided her down to the field. They were greeted with Jamie catching sight of them and smirking. “Where’s my money, Ed?”

Eddie gave a long suffering sigh and handed her a twenty dollar bill. “Congratulations,” he grumbled but couldn’t hide his grin.

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said, happily stuffing the bill in her pocket.

“You two are making bets again?” Judy admonished.

“Just a bit of fun,” Jamie said with a shrug and shot Judy her best innocent grin. Judy sighed and fondly shook her head.

“All right, missy. I know what you’re doing with that face,” Judy said, chuckling when Jamie’s grin turned impish, and gestured towards Dani. “Now, come on, I want some pictures.”

With only a minor amount of grumbling, Jamie acquiesced to more photos with the group. After the last photo of Jamie with Judy hugging her close by the shoulders, Dani was running out of film. At Judy’s insistence, Dani handed over her camera and was nudged towards Jamie with a hand to her back. Dani caught Jamie’s eyes and they shared a furtive roll of their eyes and smiles, but Dani’s was quick to drop when Jamie slung an arm around her shoulders and dragged the still clammy skin of her cheek along Dani’s.

“Ew, gross. Get off me,” Dani groaned, squirming and elbowing Jamie in the ribs. But Jamie just laughed and pulled her closer where Dani inevitably sank into her embrace, forgetting everything else as a thrill spread across her skin at Jamie’s arm around her, steady and warm. 

--

“How’d you get on?” Nan called out from the kitchen when Jamie slammed the door shut behind them.

Still flushed with victory, Jamie marched through the house with Dani trailing behind her, removing the medal from around her neck so that she could hold it up by the ribbon like a hunter returning from the woods holding aloft an antler-crowned trophy. Standing at the counter and making sandwiches, Nan glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows rising in surprise when she saw Jamie’s prize.

“Well, well,” she said and set down the knife she had been wielding to spread mustard across a few slices of bread. “Let’s see it, then.”

Nan wiped her hands on the front of her apron before holding out her hand. Jamie let her have the medal and Nan turned it over for inspection. “We’ll have to put this one on the mantelpiece,” she mused aloud and Jamie beamed at the unexpected place of honor. Nan noticed with a wry smile. She handed the medal back. “Go on and put it on display. Your lunch is almost ready. And then you can take a shower. You need it.”

Jamie did not even balk at the little jab, and she grabbed back the medal, already hurrying into the cramped living room. There, she cleared a space on the mantelpiece over the small fireplace, pushing aside photographs and arranging it so that the medal sat front and center. Dani watched, leaning against the narrow doorway between the kitchen and the living room, arms crossed, smile broad.

Nan had returned to finishing up with sandwich assembly. “She put it right in the middle, did she?” Nan asked.

Dani shrugged helplessly in reply. Jamie was still fussing with the drape of the ribbon and the best angle of the medal so it might catch the gleam of sunlight.

Rolling her eyes, Nan muttered, “Christ. She’s going to be insufferable for weeks. You get the pictures?"

Dani waggled her camera and then set it on the counter. "Lots."

"Good," Nan said. Then she sighed, setting their sandwiches on small plates and calling out, “Don’t dawdle, Jamie. Come eat.”

Jamie purposefully bumped Dani’s shoulder as she passed, the two of them sharing grins and moving into the kitchen to take their plates. Dani sat across from Nan, but Jamie made a detour to the fridge to grab a pop for herself.

“Want one?” she asked, holding up a bottle.

Mouth already full of a bite, Dani lowered the sandwich and shook her head. Jamie kicked the refrigerator shut and made her way to the table. When she dropped into the middle seat, Nan gave her an inquiring gesture of one hand. “What? None for me?”

Jamie looked at her, then looked pointedly at the half full cup of tea at Nan’s elbow, then back again. Nan blinked down at the tea in surprise.

“Forget about that again, did you?” Jamie teased.

Lifting the cup and taking a sip, Nan glowered sullenly over it and Dani had to bite back a snort of laughter. The two did not look particularly alike most days apart from the square of their jaws. Nan’s eyes were a bright and inescapable blue, whereas Jamie’s were gray. Nan had hair like a torch in autumn struck through with white, whereas Jamie’s was dark and curly. Sometimes when they faced the same direction Dani could see the relation. Other times, like now, when they glowered and growled, the resemblance was uncanny.

“Where’s Mikey?” Dani asked before Jamie could say something to ruin Nan’s good mood. The two of them together could turn the weather from sun to storm in a snap.

“Asleep,” Nan answered and lowered her cup of tea. “For once.”

Taking a sip of her pop, Jamie made the sign of the cross at the news.

“So, no rough-housing or yelling,” Nan warned.

Jamie shot her an incredulous look. “Yelling? Have you met Dani?”

Dani froze at the mention of her name, teeth half buried into another bite of her lunch.

“Aye, and I’ve met you as well,” Nan said dryly. “I mean it. Let him sleep. And if anyone wakes him, so help me God –”

“Yeah, we get it. Keep your knickers on,” Jamie said.

Nan opened her mouth and she had a flinty glint in her eye, so Dani spoke quickly, “Thank you for lunch.”

Instead of being mollified, Nan simply narrowed her eyes in Dani’s direction. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she said even as she picked up her own sandwich. “Being all charming as usual to make up for this one’s mouth.”

Both Jamie and Dani gave her their best innocent looks.

Nan sighed and looked heavenward. “A newborn, I can handle, but – dear Lord – save me from teenagers.”

Feeling a nudge against her foot, Dani glanced over to find Jamie smirking at her from around the bottle of cola. Jamie winked and Dani put her foot atop hers, resulting in a silent tussle beneath the table where they each tried to keep their foot atop the other’s. It would have passed unnoticed but for the way Jamie’s knee knocked the underside and the table rattled.

Nan appeared not at all surprised by these antics and was already reaching out to stabilise her cup of tea so it did not spill. “I suppose you’ll be staying the night as well?” she asked Dani.

“Can she?” Jamie asked.

“Only if that’s all right,” Dani added.

“I won today,” Jamie reminded Nan in a wheedling tone.

Nan rolled her eyes, looking exasperated, “Aye, I know that. And I didnae say she couldn’t.” Immediately Jamie brightened. That was until Nan asked, “Does your mother know?”

Chewing on the last bite of her sandwich, Dani lifted a hand to her mouth and nodded.

“Fine,” Nan relented.

“Can we have takeaway tonight?” Jamie asked.

Nan shot her a warning look. When it seemed that Jamie would continue, Nan said, “If you say you’ve won that bloody race one more time –”

“I wasn’t going to,” Jamie insisted.

Nan hummed a suspicious note. “I’ll think about it.”

Which of course meant it was in the bag. This time however Jamie did not let the triumph show so easily on her face. She changed the topic quickly before Nan could change her mind, and they finished lunch with a blow-by-blow recount of the race, in which Nan fact-checked Jamie’s claims with Dani, who verified or otherwise called out Jamie’s hyperboles.

When they’d finished, Jamie pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. “I’m off to have that shower.”

Nan scowled up at her. “You’ll do the washing up first.”

“I’ll –” Dani started to say.

“No,” said both Nan and Jamie at the same time, wearing identical expressions.

“– take a shower instead,” Dani finished weakly.

Clearing her throat, Dani excused herself from the table with a murmur, but the other two were already back to their usual bickering.

“ – Going to make her do your chores for you –”

“I wasn’t!”

“Keep your voice down!”

“You’re the one who -!”

“If you wake that baby, I will kill you.”

Jamie’s voice lowered to a theatrical whisper as she repeated, “You’re the one who –”

Dani did not wait around to hear the rest. Their hissing faded as she wandered down the hall towards the only shower in the house. She paused to open the hot water closet and pull out a spare towel on the way. The bathroom, like the rest of the house, was kept exceptionally clean but somehow general wear and age made it feel dingy.

She kept the shower short, knowing full well that the hot water in this house was limited to fifteen minutes at most before it dropped down to just shy of cold. Stepping out, she wrapped herself in a towel. The tiny mirror was chipped at the edges and completely fogged up so that she appeared to be a silhouette with dark smudges for eyes. She wiped it clean with her hand and opened a drawer in the vanity. There was no hairdryer. Dani merely dragged a comb through her hair, parting it just so in the mirror.

By the time she stepped out, pink-cheeked, still wrapped in a towel, clothes clutched to her chest, Jamie had finished with the dishes and was lounging in her room, waiting. She was propped on her narrow bed, one arm folded behind her head, while her other hand held open a paperback. It was not, Dani was relieved to see, the same dirty dime novel Jamie had stolen from David. In fact, the cover had been torn off in what appeared to be a deliberate act of vandalism, which was suspicious in and of itself.

“It’s all yours,” Dani said as she walked into the room, keeping a careful hand pinched tight at the fold of the towel across her chest.

Jamie glanced at her, returned to the book, then did a double take. Immediately she sat bolt upright, legs hanging over the side of her bed so that she faced away from Dani. “Jesus Christ,” she said, her accent thick. “Didn’t you take clothes into the bathroom with you?”

Setting her old clothes onto a corner of the mattress, Dani began rummaging through the chest of drawers for the spare set of pajamas she always wore while staying the night, which consisted of one of Jamie’s old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants rolled up to the ankle. “I thought I’d change in here while you were in the shower.”

“Right,” Jamie said tightly and she cleared her throat, still not looking around. “Makes sense.”

Feeling slightly awkward, Dani lowered herself onto the edge of the mattress opposite Jamie. She crossed her legs at the ankle and kept her knees firmly pressed together. As if peering through her fingers at some kind of horror show, Jamie slowly peeked over her shoulder.

“Well?” Dani asked. “What are you waiting for?”

“What?” Jamie asked dumbly, her expression oddly neutral.

“Aren’t you going to -?” Dani made a furtive gesture towards the door and the hallway outside.

“Right,” Jamie repeated. “Right. Yeah.”

She dropped the paperback onto her bedside table, snatched up some clothes from the floor, and rose stiffly to her feet before walking out without a second glance in Dani’s direction. She shut the door in her wake, so that Dani was alone in her room. There was no familiar creak of footsteps across the old carpet, and for a long moment Dani listened for it in absolute puzzlement. Then, finally, a creak and another, and then the click of the bathroom door across the hall.

“Weird,” Dani muttered under her breath when she heard the muted spray of the shower open up through the walls.

Standing, she dropped the towel and pulled on the spare set of clothes. The old set she folded neatly for tomorrow and piled them atop the chest of drawers. Then with a long drawn out sigh Dani sprawled atop bedsheets that smelled like warmth and comfort. Sunlight slanted across her, warming her skin so that when she closed her eyes the room faded away in a wash of red. It was only when she grew too warm, when her skin prickled against the cotton fabric of Jamie’s t-shirt, that Dani rolled over into a patch of shade.

When she opened her eyes, the nightstand and its contents were waiting for her. The defaced book. A glass of near empty water. A battered pocket knife. An old-fashioned wristwatch turned on its side so that the face was clearly visible. Dani reached out and curled her fingers around it so she could flop onto her back and inspect it more closely. The watch had always seemed slightly too large for Jamie, something for her to grow into perhaps. Turning it over in her hands, Dani paused when she found Jamie’s name etched into the leather band as if by the careful tip of a knife, except it wasn’t in Jamie’s handwriting.

The door opened and Dani nearly dropped the watch directly onto her face. She fumbled with it and looked up as Jamie walked in, short wet hair clipped into a messy half bun, half-dressed already but with a towel still held around herself.

“Forgot a shirt,” Jamie mumbled, pulling open a drawer.

There was a glimpse of jean shorts beneath the towel, but the skin of her arms was still damp, her shoulders exposed. Dani’s eyes lingered over the old burn scar at one of Jamie’s shoulders. Too wide for a cigarette or even a cigar. Jamie had told her once it was an accident with a pot of boiling water, but had left it at that. And Dani had never pried.

When it appeared that Jamie was going to return to the bathroom, shirt in tow, Dani said, “You can just change here. I won’t look.”

A pause, and then Jamie shut the door, enclosing them inside her room, alone. She still hadn’t turned towards Dani since entering, and now Dani rolled back over into the patch of sunlight so that she faced away. Behind her she could hear the quick rustle of fabric, followed by a thump as the towel was tossed into the far corner of the room with the rest of the dirty laundry.

Hesitantly, Dani shuffled around on the bed, the mattress creaking beneath her, to find that Jamie was finishing up tucking a shirt into the waistband of her shorts.

Jamie glanced up. “Hand that over, won’t you?” she asked, holding out her hand.

For a moment Dani wondered what she was talking about, until she remembered she was still holding the watch. Wordlessly, she held it out and watched Jamie fasten it at her wrist.

“What did you want to do today?” Jamie asked, dropping onto the bed beside her.

Dani shrugged against the sheets and made space for the two of them. Even so the bed was small enough that being pressed up against one another was inevitable. “I’m not sure. I was just hoping to relax, I guess. And, y’know –”

“Get away from your mum?” Jamie finished for her.

“Yeah. And everything else.”

Jamie’s brow furrowed. She had situated herself against the pillows, half sitting up, one leg outstretched and the other bent so that she lounged. She cocked her head, looking curiously down at Dani sprawled beside her. “School?”

“Mmm,” Dani hummed, toying with a loose thread at the hem of the shirt she wore. “Mom wasn’t too thrilled about my grades this semester.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Did you get an A minus for once in your life?”

Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, Dani glared at her. “It wasn’t a – You know we graduate in two years, right?”

“How could I forget? Counting down the days until I’m out of this shit school.”

“Well, colleges look at this kind of thing pretty closely.”

“They’re not going to care about your A minus, Poppins. I guarantee it.”

“It was a B plus,” Dani muttered.

Jamie actually seemed surprised by this news. “In what? Astrophysics?”

Dani shoved playfully at her shoulder and Jamie had to stop herself from falling off the narrow mattress by grabbing hold of the bedside table, snickering. “I’m being serious, Jamie.”

“So am I,” Jamie said. “Nobody will care, except your mum, but she’s mental. And besides, once you’re away, you’re away laughing, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can just –“ Jamie made an expansive motion towards the window. “- go. Wherever you want. To all those places you talked about seeing.”

The travel fund jar Jamie had given her for Christmas was still a staple of Dani’s room back at home. It was filed with cheap change and the occasional crumpled bill. There were even a few bits of paper with the letters ‘IOU’ scrawled across in various peoples’ handwriting – Jamie, mostly, but also Eddie and Carson and even one from Tommy after she had helped him back into his house late one evening while Judy was asleep. If there was more than fifty dollars in that jar, Dani would be shocked.

After all this time, the idea itself seemed absurd. Emptying out the jar across her bed. Leaving home. Not knowing where she might end up. Going somewhere – anywhere – with all her worldly possessions in a single bag.

"Do you ever get homesick?" Dani asked suddenly.

"No," said Jamie. And then, "Yes. Why?"

Dani shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been away from anywhere, I guess. So, I don't know what it feels like."

Jamie hummed a low and thoughtful note. "Feels like," she said, "wanting to be in your own bed."

Dani tried to imagine wanting to be in her own bed and ended up wrinkling her nose.

Jamie noticed and gave a little huff of laughter. "All right, then. More like — I dunno. You know how you go to the supermarket, and you recognise all the brands? It's like that."

"Homesickness," Dani repeated slowly, "is like grocery shopping?"

"No, it's -" Jamie dragged a hand down her face and sighed. "It's wanting that. Missing that. The knowing. The certainty."

"What if you know the brands in both places?" Dani asked. "In England and America."

Jamie blinked at her then let her arm flop back to her side and replied, "Then I'll miss both, I suppose."

"I much prefer being here. Your bed is better than mine."

"Smaller, though," Jamie pointed out.

Dani shrugged. Jamie was watching her fondly. Her hair had begun to dry in curls. Dani reached up to tuck one behind her ear. “You should really use those hair clips I got you.”

Jamie had gone very still and only seemed to come to when Dani lowered her hand. “Nan uses them instead,” she said, then bumped Dani’s knee with her own. “I got you something as well. One sec.”

She bounced off the bed and went rummaging around in her school bag for something. Dani rolled onto her stomach, knees bent so that her heels curved towards her thighs, and she rested her chin on her crossed arms, waiting. When Jamie stood and held out her hand, Dani perked up and took what was being offered.

It was a black cassette tape. A piece of plain white tape had been stuck to the front and atop it scrawled in permanent marker the words  ‘Jamie’s Mixtape (1978).’ Dani turned it over in her hands in search of any more information regarding tracks and contents, but found none.

“Can we listen to it?” she asked.

Looking almost sheepish, Jamie rubbed at the back of her neck. “Yeah. Sure. Though –” she cast a quick glance over her shoulder towards the door. “We’ll need to keep it down. Otherwise I’ll be murdered.”

“Not me though?” Dani countered with a grin.

“Nah. She likes you.”

The little Panasonic radio Jamie kept in her room had a cassette player as well. Lifting it from the floor by its silver handle, Jamie brought it with her onto the bed. Dani handed over the cassette and Jamie popped it into place, switching on the radio and then very quickly turning it down to the lowest volume setting. She offered the radio to Dani, who placed it snugly between them, so that it was cradled atop the mattress.

The faint breathy strains of the first song began to play and Jamie reached for her book on the table beside her. There were plenty of other books Dani could have read. She could have even wandered back out to the living room and retrieved the current book she was reading from her bag, but she did not move. It was only when Jamie flipped a page that Dani shifted the radio so that she could set her head in Jamie’s lap and loosely curl up into a ball on the mattress.

Her eyes fluttered shut when she felt one of Jamie’s hands begin to thread through her hair. The movements were slow, almost hesitant. Jamie would stop every so often to turn a page, but always inevitably her hand would be drawn back, fingers carding through Dani’s hair, nails lightly scratching against her scalp until Dani was lulled by touch and music, listening as though from miles away. Even when Jamie had to pause and set down her book in order to flip the tape over to the B side, Dani only gave a murmur of complaint until Jamie’s hand found its way back into her hair.

The day was unseasonably warm for spring, vernal verging on summer. The B side of the tape was far more energetic than the previous side, the songs tailored to Jamie’s tastes rather than her own. More awake, more present, Dani tapped along to the rhythm against Jamie’s bare knee and felt Jamie do the same to her head like some sort of call and response.

“Read to me?” Dani suggested.

Jamie’s fingers slowed. “You wouldn’t like it,” she said.

“Why? Is it smutty?”

“Not in this scene. But I imagine it’ll heat up soon.” Jamie turned a page. “Ah, there we go.”

“I take it back,” said Dani dryly. Jamie snorted and Dani rolled over just in time to catch her faint grin. With a smile of her own and a shake of her head, Dani lifted herself into a sitting position and then stood. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

Not looking up from her book, Jamie shook her head. “Nah. I’m good, thanks.”

Dani made sure to shut the door behind her when she left so that none of the music would leak out into the rest of the house. Once in the hallway she was gratified to hear nothing from Jamie’s room, not even the muted hint of the music still playing. On her way towards the kitchen she paused, poking her head into the living room. Nan was asleep on her usual chair, a new cup of untouched tea sitting on the table beside her, a book propped open on her lap, her chin tucked against her chest. Dani crept forward and took the cup of tea so she could wash it and put it away.

She was quiet and sneaky and far too practised at such things. Nan did not stir at all.

The trip to the kitchen was quick – pour of a jug clinking with ice cubes into a glass topped with a sprig of mint from the nearby garden – and she was back on her way to Jamie’s room. She sucked on a straw as she carefully shut the door behind her, once more enfolded in the warmth and light and familiarity of this place.

Jamie had propped an arm behind her head, eyebrows quirked as she continued reading while the radio played another song on the tape.

Kneeling on the bed beside her, Dani held out the glass and positioned the straw towards Jamie. “Here,” she said. “Try this.”

Jamie did not bother even looking up as Dani guided the straw into her mouth for a sip. Immediately she froze, drew her head back, and made a face. “Dani,” she said seriously. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Dani was biting back a smile. “You don’t like it?” she asked innocently.

“I feel like I just swallowed a liquid pastry.”

“It’s not  that sweet.”

“It is. It really is.”

Lifting the straw back to her own mouth with a shrug, Dani took a sip. “Tastes good to me.”

Jamie chuckled as Dani sat back down beside her, close enough that their shoulders were pressed together. The cassette played at their feet. “What do you have going on next weekend?” Jamie asked, returning to her book.

“Oh, uh,” Dani played with the straw, using it to push around bits of floating ice and mint. “I think I’m going to a party.”

Hearing that, Jamie’s head jerked around. “A party?  You?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when do you go to parties?”

“Eddie asked if I wanted to go with him.”

Somehow that simple admission felt like Dani had just tipped the glass of iced tea over both their heads. Outside, the sun had begun its slow descent to the horizon, casting late flossy afternoon rays through the trees. The slant of light had roved slowly from Jamie’s bed to the opposite wall. Dani stuck the end of the straw back into her mouth rather than contemplate why this was the effect, rather than contemplate the strange fascination of watching Jamie drink, rather than contemplate the thrill she felt knowing that Jamie’s mouth had been where hers was just moments ago.

“Finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date, has he?” Jamie asked.

Dani’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

Jamie gave a derisive snort and set the book down on her lap, keeping one finger wedged beneath the pages to save her place. “Come off it. You really haven’t noticed?”

Dani opened her mouth, but the lie died on the tip of her tongue when Jamie gave her a look. “I mean,” Dani floundered, “Yeah, I’ve – I’ve noticed. Do you want to come, too?”

Jamie crinkled her nose as though at a bad smell. “And be a third wheel? Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I didn’t mean for a date. It doesn’t have to be a date,” Dani said quickly, but Jamie had already returned to her book. “It can just be – I don’t know – hanging out. Like we always do. I just want to hang out with you. Both of you. And Carson.”

“Think Carson would enjoy that even less than I would,” Jamie said, but she gave Dani a small smile and knocked their ankles together. “Relax. You should go. Enjoy yourself. Have fun.”

The way she said it didn’t sound like having fun, though. The way she said it was with a tight voice, expression painstakingly neutral, the kind of forced good cheer with which Dani was all too familiar. Watching Jamie turn away from her, Dani was reminded of what Judy had said years ago. About Jamie too used to being alone. And suddenly she was awash with the desire to jump to her feet, haul Jamie up as well, grab that jar of coins and cash, take Nan’s truck and go – somewhere. The movies again, perhaps. Or maybe further. Across state lines, leaving Iowa for the first time even if just for a few moments just so they could say they’d done it and that they’d done it together. It didn’t matter where, so long as there was movement and freedom and Jamie.

Instead, Dani, tense and poised, lifted the drink to her mouth and took a mechanical saccharine sip. At the foot of the bed, the radio went quiet so that only a static white noise hummed forth as the tape revolved again and again. The last song had finished, and they were, it seemed, stuck on a loop, forever repeating.

--

Eddie was sitting outside on the steps of her porch when Dani met him outside. He twisted around and aimed a smile up at her, standing upright.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dani said, running a hand anxiously through her hair, adjusting the strands over her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Eddie said, shrugging, “I didn’t mind.”

Dani gave him a faint smile, taking in the new sweater she’s never seen him wear before and his hair, uncustomarily neat from his usual mess of curls. But when her eyes drifted down to his hands, she only now noticed the small vase of white flowers he held.

“Oh. Um - Is that -?" She gestured to the flowers.

“Oh! Yeah, here,” Eddie said, clearing his throat and thrusting the flowers towards her, “They’re for you.”

Frozen for a moment, Dani stared dumbly at the flowers, the transparent vase smooth under her hands. “Thank you,” she murmured, and flickered a weak grin at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Eddie shrugged, his shoulders bunched to his ears as he dug his hands deep in his pockets, grinning that same bashful smile. “To be honest, I didn’t know what to really get you. I asked Jamie for help and she said flowers and helped me pick those. Think they’re called gardenias?”

Dani swallowed thickly, not knowing what else to say. Jamie’s words from the week before ringing in her ears. She didn’t know why the thought never occurred to her, not when he was looking at her as he was now. Like she held a shooting star in her hand, a wish for the taking. All too easily, she could recall the last ten years of the same smile, the same sidelong looks when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

With the late evening air feeling thick like molasses, Dani gave him another small grin, her ears burning. She gestured behind her, and said, “I’m just - I’m gonna put them inside. I don’t want — “

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie said, chuckling.

Dani returned inside her house, scanning the atrium for a place to put the vase, eventually landing on a corner table that held its own flower of the plastic variety. Shoving the fake plant aside, Dani set the vase on the table and blinked down at it. The petals were pure white, looking velvety and soft to the touch. She reached up to take a petal between two fingers to confirm that they were and didn’t even have to bend low to inhale it's incredibly fragrant tropical scent. Exhaling softly, almost dizzy from the heady smell, Dani gave it one last look before returning outside to Eddie.

In the glow from the porch light, Eddie appeared almost ghostly as he waited for her, cast in both shadow and sickly bright light. When she made her reappearance, he turned and his expression brightened, but as she locked the house behind her, he glanced towards the door with a furrow in his brow.

“Your mom knows you’re going out, right?” he asked, his expression wary.

“She does,” Dani said, her jaw tight, “She’s also not home right now so, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Right,” Eddie said, sounding unconvinced.

Unlike Jamie, Eddie had the misfortune of never having found the right handle of managing his discomfort and apprehension when it came to her mother. She couldn’t truly fault him for it, not when his own mom was who she was. And not when Dani’s mom was who she was. Eddie, born with a silver spoon, and Dani, on the razor edge of a sharp blade.

“It’s fine,” Dani said.

His shoulders softened and he grinned. “All right,” he said, and grasped her hand, “Ready?”

With a nod, they set off. Walking hand in hand down the street in companionable silence, passing under yellow street lamps and houses that were as familiar to her as her own. In the blue evening gleam, Dani could almost pretend this was another normal day. Walking home late after one of Eddie’s ball games. Heading to Big Bill’s for impromptu milkshakes and fries. But Eddie’s hand was steady in hers, and nothing could distract her from how strange it felt, how different, when the last decade was spent with casual and comforting affection that had never given Dani pause the way it did now.

“I’m really happy that you agreed to come,” Eddie said, broaching the quiet between them.

She blinked at him. “Yeah?”

He nodded, grinning boyishly, a happy glint in his eyes. “Mom’s kind of over the moon about it,” he said, chuckling, “Said she’s been waiting for this since we were kids.”

Dani’s stomach twisted. She looked away, eyes unseeing on the path before them. “I had no idea,” she said softly, knowing at once that was a lie.

In her periphery, Eddie nodded. “Always said we were inevitable,” he said, “I thought so too.”

Swallowing thickly, Dani chuckled but there was no amusement to it. She felt Eddie squeeze her hand briefly before tangling their fingers. She let him, his hand warm under her skin. He didn’t say anything more as they walked, and for that she was grateful. She wouldn’t have remembered anyways, not realizing they had made it to Roger’s house until they were turning up a walkway and the porch to knock on his door. It swung open and they were greeted with not Roger, but one of their classmates who Dani shared a few classes with.

After being ushered inside, Dani took the moment of Eddie being distracted by conversation with their friend to take stock. To exhale a low, unsteady breath, her free hand clenched tightly by her side, the other still clutched in Eddie’s. She looked around, having never been in Roger’s house before, a modest bungalow with matching furniture and wood paneled walls. They had shared multiple classes and extracurriculars over the recent years, and a newfound quiet camaraderie as project partners or sticking together in their mutual clubs, but she had never gone so far as to visit his house.

And inside, it was already packed with what seemed to be almost their entire sophomore class and a few upperclassmen, conversing and laughing, rock music playing on the stereo system. The sounds converged until it seemed to blend into a string of white noise. Dani shifted on her feet, worrying at her lower lip as she took in the scene of classmates she rarely spoke to outside of school, carrying around red cups and cans of beer. Tension creeped into her shoulders and she took a step closer to Eddie.

He squeezed her hand and leaned down to murmur, “Do you want to get a drink?”

Sweeping her eyes anxiously again across the visible space of Roger’s house, Dani swallowed hard and nodded faintly. Pleased, Eddie guided her through the house in search of the kitchen, passing by their classmates, some of whom recognized Dani and waved in surprised. When they located the kitchen, it was small but no less crowded than the rest of the house. Teenagers in varying states of inebriation tucked into corners or lining the counters. The kitchen island surface was a spread of a plethora of alcohol and snacks, a bowl of punch sitting proudly in the center.

And in the middle of it all was Roger, digging out cans of beer from his fridge, shaggy hair and a white t-shirt under a jean jacket. When he caught sight of them, he stood upright and smiled, standing tall above most of everyone in the room besides Eddie.

“Hey,” he said happily, “You guys made it.”

“Yeah, thanks for the invite,” Eddie said.

“No problem,” Roger said, shrugging, “Think there’s people here I didn’t even invite anyways.”

Dani glanced furtively around the room. “Seems like almost everyone in our grade is here.”

“Well, almost everyone,” Roger said, and leaned closer to stage-whisper with a conspiratorial sly smile, “Didn’t invite Sterling and Jackie.”

Dani’s eyes went wide and she chuckled, shaking her head at the mischievous glint in Roger’s eyes. “Was that a good idea?”

Shrugging again, Roger gave a noncommittal sound and said, “Nothing I can’t handle.” He paused, and then added with a small frown and twist of his mouth, “Wouldn’t be surprised if they crashed at some point later, though.”

“Okay, I think it’s time to go. This guy has a death wish,” Eddie said, pulling on Dani’s arm but unable to hide his huff of laughter.

Roger laughed, but Dani remained quiet, shifting on her feet and squashing down the urge to drag Eddie by the hand back to his house at the very notion of being at the same house party with Sterling and Jackie.

The pair didn't notice. Roger gestured around the kitchen. “You guys want a drink?” He said, “I’ve got all kinds of stuff.”

“Where did you even get all of this?” Dani asked, quirking an eyebrow and glancing at the kitchen island.

“My cousin,” Roger said. “Bought it for me.”

Dani offered him a smile, and polite to a fault, hesitantly said, “Well, um. I’d love a drink, then.”

The bashful tension in his shoulders easing, an eager grin forming on his face, Roger said, “Sure thing. What d’you guys like?”

Dani hesitated again, eyeing the plethora of bottles and beer cans. She didn’t drink often, or if at all. Not seeing the appeal to it most of the time besides an occasional stolen sip of beer from the twins or when Jamie managed to sneak cheap whiskey and coke into school in a hip flask. But Roger and Eddie were looking at her expectantly, and her stomach tightened into an anxious coil. Her fingers itched to twist together, but her right hand was still grasped in Eddie’s.

As though sensing her uncertainty, Eddie grinned at her and said, “How about some beer to start?” Dani scrunched her nose and he laughed. “Okay, spiked punch juice it is.”

Roger looked at her and raised his eyebrows, waiting. At Dani’s nod, he grinned and pointed towards a corner of the counter where a stack of red cups sat next to a toaster. “Cups are there, punch is there. Feel free to help yourself to snacks too,” he said, gathering his cans of beer where he had rested them on the counter when he first sighted the pair as Eddie went about gathering their drinks.

“Thanks, Roger,” Dani said.

“Anytime,” he said, slowly retreating out of the kitchen, “Thanks for coming again. Let me know if you guys need anything else.”

“We will,” Dani said as Eddie handed her a red cup filled with pale red punch, the smell pungent with sweet peach and vodka.

At the first sip, Dani twisted her mouth, letting the taste settle as she swallowed it down. Eddie laughed, sipping at his own beer. “It’ll taste better after a few more sips,” Eddie said.

Sparing a look of apprehension into the cup, Dani said, “That’s what everyone says. Doesn’t make it any more true.”

As Eddie laughed, stepping back towards the kitchen island to poke at a bowl of chips and converse with friends, Dani took another hesitant sip, looking to trace where Roger had retreated straight across the hallway into the living room, and froze, eyes wide. Jamie stood leaning back against a bookcase, arms folded and staring directly at her. Dani blinked. Hair tied up in a messy devil-may-care bun, a band t-shirt tucked into jeans ripped at the knees and donning an oversized flannel, she looked no different than Dani’s seen her, but there was something different in the way she wore it, in the way she held herself. A slow grin creeped along Jamie’s face when their eyes met, and then she winked.

Before Dani could do anything more than stare in surprise, Roger moved into her field of vision, stepping next to Jamie and handing her a beer. With a slow blink, Jamie tore her eyes away from Dani to give Roger a nod in thanks, taking a long sip. Roger tucked a hand into his pocket, leaning his shoulder against the bookcase next to Jamie, saying something that Dani couldn’t hear from this distance. Dani watched as Jamie listened and responded, but only seemed to be half listening to him, her eyes occasionally straying back to Dani, a curve to the corner of her mouth.

When Roger was distracted by one of Jamie’s teammates, the next time Jamie met her eyes, Dani gave her a questioning look. Jamie shrugged a shoulder. Just as Dani finally took a step towards her, a pair of friends from her algebra class came up to happily greet her, surprised to find Dani at a house party for the first time. When Eddie returned to her side and grasped her hand again, the two girls caught the movement and gave Dani teasing, knowing smiles. A whorl of discomfort swam in Dani’s stomach and she shot Jamie another quick look, only to be greeted with Jamie smirking, arching an eyebrow as she raised her beer to take one long slow sip, eyes unmoving from Dani’s. With a quiet huff, the taste of peach and vodka on her tongue, Dani pressed on a polite smile, and returned to the conversation.

Eddie held her hand the entire time, solid and warm in her own. In between chatter in the kitchen and delving deeper into the house, they passed Jamie and Roger. Eddie didn’t even stop to say hello, only waved in greeting as Jamie nodded her chin in response, and pulled Dani further along to settle on a couch in the living room. Glancing curiously over her shoulder, instead of meeting Jamie’s eyes, instead of finding her following after them, Jamie was turned away, remaining where she was next to Roger.

Dani’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and for one brief moment, Dani wanted to walk over just to hear Jamie’s voice and inquire why she was spending time with Roger of all people. But when Roger laughed brightly at something Jamie said, she sighed. Deciding it was none of her business, she turned her attention back to Eddie when he squeezed her hand, that unpleasant feeling in her stomach a constant presence as she sank further into the couch, her shoulders stiff.

While neither she nor Eddie were social butterflies by any means, they somehow held the attention of many of their friends and classmates. Dani could almost feel the whispers creep along the room, like a pin prick to the back of her neck. A creeping vine of round robin circling the house: Dani and Eddie arrived together holding hands. Nothing of it was said out loud, nothing ever was unless it was whispered in one ear to the other. But Eddie seemed aware all the same, his shoulders straight, his smile broad and proud, his attention all on Dani.

Squished together on the couch, their hips touching, Eddie’s thumb stroking her knuckles, Dani could do nothing more than smile. Holding it until it hurt. Hiding behind her cup as she took sips that no longer felt like she was swallowing acid. Eddie was saying something, Eddie was speaking in low tones beside her, but Dani was glancing over her shoulder again and was greeted once more with Jamie already staring at her. Their eyes met and Dani exhaled slowly, something in her chest unspooling as the corner of Jamie’s mouth curved into a faint grin.

“So, what do you think?”

Dani blinked and turned back to Eddie. “Sorry?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Cedar Rapids. What do you think?”

“It’s nice?”

Looking at her quietly, indulgent and warm, Eddie said, “Is that drink already getting to you?”

Glancing inside the cup, there was still more than half of it remaining. “No, I’m - “ she scrambled to reply, her hand flexing around the cup, threatening to crush it, “I’m just - “

Eddie squeezed her other hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured, and glanced furtively around the room before admitting, “I’m not used to it either.”

She gave him a weak smile and ducked her head. “But really though,” Eddie continued, giving her hand a teasing shake, “What do you think about visiting my aunt in Cedar Rapids soon? Mom said it’d be a long weekend trip. A backyard barbeque, fireworks, the whole nine yards.”

“That sounds really nice actually,” Dani admitted. She had always liked Eddie’s extended family, the easy affection and acceptance of the O’Mara’s running deep. Plus, time away from her mom and that oppressively quiet house was always a bonus. It was only just —

Dani shot Jamie another quick glance, finding her laughing and rolling her eyes at something Roger was saying. Dani briefly entertained the idea of smuggling Jamie along, but promptly squashed the idea, knowing Jamie would turn the offer down with a distasteful twist of her mouth at the presumptuous thought of playing third wheel.

She turned back to catch Eddie’s eye, waiting and watching her with an expression lined with anxious anticipation. His glasses had slipped low down his nose, and she softened with a small smile. Easing her hand out of his to push it back up, she said, “I’d love to go.”

He beamed at her, immediately grasping her hand again, tangling their fingers. Dani took a heady swig of her drink in a futile attempt at washing away the thickness and panic in her throat.

Dani forced herself to socialize. Eager to burst out of this bubble Eddie had made for them on the couch, the world surrounding them muffled and blurred. A stage to present themselves as something more than what they were. Dani pressed out of it, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees to converse with her friends and classmates. To move to her feet and observe a game of beer pong at the dining table and wave away the offers to participate. To laugh and pretend that there wasn’t that same ringing in her ears like a claxon, the ominous thump of her heart beat when Eddie made his way back to her side, his palm pressed to the middle of her back as he laughed when an errant ping pong ball fell to the floor, the result of a poor toss.

She felt eyes on her again, a piercing stare burning into the side of her face. Turning, she caught Jamie’s gaze again, watching her this time with an unreadable expression, nursing a beer in one hand and fiddling with her coin necklace in the other, making no attempt to move closer, to come and say hello. Dani looked away, taking another long swig of her drink, draining the cup, feeling untethered and unmoored all at once.

It was easier somehow, to drift back into the kitchen with the urge to find another drink with Jamie’s eyes on her, following her around the room wherever she went when she wasn’t distracted by conversation. Easy to drain half of her drink in one go and refill her cup again with Eddie lingering beside her, unwilling to leave her side. There was a restlessness that pulsed beneath her skin. To turn and march towards Jamie, only to find she had wandered somewhere else in the house, deep into conversation with one person or another, Roger a constant presence by her side. To slip out the door, back home where she didn’t feel like a marionette doll puppeted by invisible strings. But with nowhere else to put that anxious energy, Dani settled on sipping generously from her cup, almost unaware she was doing so.

With her third cup drained, Dani eventually had to use the bathroom. With a murmur to Eddie who nodded with a happy glint in his eyes, she slipped out from under his arm that he had draped across her shoulders sometime over the course of the night and made her way down a hall, vaguely aware that there was a tingling buzz to her flushed cheeks and a sway to her gait. Twist of the lock. Flick of the light switch. She stood quietly, her back against the door for a brief moment, smoothing down the front of her dress as though she could smooth away the coil of her stomach. Washing her hands, she let the cold water run across her hands and wrists, splashing some on her cheeks to battle the heat and buzz, exhaling unsteadily.

“Get it together, Dani,” she murmured, her eyes pressed shut, her hands digging into the edges of the counter.

She stood there for a moment longer, listening to the muffled bass of music through the walls, breathing in the empty space of the bathroom, away from lingering stares and whispers that trailed after her and Eddie. Steadying that anxious thrum of her pulse under her skin. But when she returned outside the bathroom, dodging partygoers saying hello in passing or eager to exchange words, slipping past a couple making out in a corner, Dani made her way towards the living room but jerked to a stop when she spotted Jamie and Eddie having a heated conversation at the end of the hallway. Dani couldn’t hear them from where she stood, but even with just their postures, she knew it wasn’t good. Dani sighed with mild exasperation as she watched them, her shoulders slumping as she folded her arms.

Though he stood nearly a foot taller than Jamie, Eddie shrunk back from her, chagrined and his shoulders bunched as Jamie spoke between gritted teeth, her expression dark and peeved. When Eddie spoke again, shrugging helplessly, Jamie rolled her eyes and smacked him hard enough on the shoulder that he jerked back from the force of it, hissing at him. Eddie scowled and hissed back with exasperation.

Dani slowly shook her head, watching them bicker, unmoved to step in to intervene. They’d get over it eventually. They always did. Squabbling and scowling one day, then sitting in front of the television during a soccer game the next. Jostling each other's shoulders with every goal scored, or jeering teasingly when they rooted for separate teams. They more often than not argued over the correct term for the sport: soccer or football. And with the world cup this summer, she expected it to escalate.

Just as Dani was nearing the resignation of needing to intervene with the way the arguing pair were attracting attention, it reached its peak when Jamie barked loud enough to hear, “For  fuck’s sakes , Ed.”

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie yelled back, looking earnestly apologetic.

Jamie shook her head, her jaw a taut line of clenched muscle as she scowled at him. Eddie spoke again, softer this time, and Dani was only able to just make out the words,  ‘I’m sorry’,  from reading his lips.

Exhaling heavily, her hands clenched into fists, Jamie gave him a curt nod and muttered something again. Eddie’s shoulders slumped and he nodded back, solemn and sheepish. Dani’s brow furrowed as they stood there, silent and unwilling to meet each other’s eyes before finally Jamie said something again, hitting Eddie once more in the shoulder with her fist, and marched away into the kitchen without a backwards glance. Rubbing at his shoulder with a wince, Eddie rolled his eyes and retreated back into the living room.

And just like that, the storm had passed. Dani blinked, and exhaled, shaking her head again in mild bewilderment. Neither of them had seen her. Dani bit her lip as she considered her options, her eyes dancing between the living room and kitchen. It was a stalling tactic. A useless one. Her feet already moving to the kitchen, a hand skimming the wall to help maintain her balance as the world seemed to tip just slightly on its axis after standing still for too long.

The kitchen was sparse when Dani stepped in, a group huddled in a corner, laughing as they conversed and binged on snacks. On the other side of the kitchen island was Jamie, digging inside the fridge for another drink. When she popped back out, a can of beer in hand, she froze and blinked in surprise when she caught sight of Dani there.

Dani slowly folded her arms and arched an eyebrow. At the look, Jamie huffed, cracking open her beer and grumbled, “Caught all that, did you?”

“Do I even want to know?” Dani asked as Jamie took a hefty swig, her grip tight on the can.

Jamie shook her head with a breath of laughter. “Just the usual shit,” she said with a shrug, “You know how it goes: He pisses me off. I threaten to crack his skull. He whines and apologizes. And I forgive him, like a twat.”

Though her irritated expression was softening gradually, there was a sharpness to the words, as though Jamie was speaking through a bit caught in between clenched teeth. Dani eyed her carefully, and said, “Do I need to play mediator again?”

“No,” Jamie said, chuckling, “Nothin’ that extreme. Just a stupid fight.” When Dani gave her a dubious look, she grinned softly, the tension easing from her posture. “I promise.”

“If you say so,” Dani said, shrugging.

Jamie stared at her, still wearing that soft grin, and said, “You want another drink?”

“Oh - um,” Dani said, and her crossed arms tightened, “Sure?”

Jamie gave her a look. “Try again.”

“Yes?”

Shaking her head fondly, Jamie said, “That’ll do.”

Dani almost expected her to shove her opened can of beer into Dani’s hands. To fill a cup with spiked punch. And indeed Jamie reached for a red cup, but instead of punch, she filled it with water from the sink and wordlessly handed it to Dani. Pressing the lip of the cup to her mouth for a sip, Dani shot her an appreciative glance but Jamie wasn’t looking, already busy munching on chips from a bowl.

It was easier to see now, the thin layer of red painted on Jamie’s lips. The blue scrunchie still wrapped around her wrist, just above her watch, the color standing out against the muted dark tones of Jamie’s clothes. Lingering on the scrunchie, Dani slowly leaned her hip against the island counter beside Jamie, and said, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Didn’t know myself until a few hours ago.” Dani tore her eyes back up with a questioning look and Jamie shrugged. “Roger invited me.”

“Oh,” Dani murmured, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well - um. I’m glad you’re here.”

Jamie gave her another soft grin, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, she took another swig of her beer, and asked, “You having fun then?”

Hesitating, Dani glanced around, biting her lower lip. Realizing she was taking too long to reply, she nodded and said, “Sure.”

But Jamie noticed, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah? Ed treating you well?” Jamie’s eyes were sharp and vivid, effectively pinning Dani to the spot. Swallowing thickly, Dani nodded again. “Good. ‘Cause you know, he does something stupid, and I’ll castrate him.”

Dani laughed, feeling her cheeks warm, a knot in her chest loosened. Jamie gave her a pleased smile, but her tone was even and low. “I’m serious, Dani.”

“I know,” Dani said in between chuckles, “He’s been fine. I promise.”

“Just fine?”

“You know what I mean.”

Jamie chuckled. “If you say so,” she said dubiously.

Though she was still sharp around the edges, Jamie seemed softer than she did a few minutes ago. Slouching against the counter, her warm eyes scanning over Dani, slowly looking her up and down. Dani felt frozen under the attention, finding herself loath to move lest she break the spell, her heart rate ticking up.

“That’s new,” Jamie said, gesturing to Dani’s blue dress, “Looks nice.”

Blinking, Dani glanced down, and ran a hand over invisible wrinkles. “Yeah?” she murmured, looking up to catch Jamie’s eyes, but found Jamie’s gaze lingering on the hemline of her dress that stopped at her knees.

“Brings out your eyes,” Jamie said. She took a long sip of her beer and gave her a wink, smirking around the can.

Dani huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, but a warmth was still cast over her skin, heating her cheeks. Even though she had felt Eddie’s sneaking occasional glances over the course of the night, he himself had yet to mention her new dress, dug out from the back of her closet for this evening. And as though tethered to Dani’s gravity, a tall frame stepped into the kitchen and they both turned to find Eddie, his expression brightening when he spotted her.

“Hey, there you are,” he said, and briefly glanced anxiously at Jamie before aiming a smile at Dani, “Wondered where you went. A bunch of us are about to play some games in the living room. Came to find you to play.”

“Games?” Dani said tentatively, shrinking back slightly against the counter.

Eddie nodded. “Thought it could be fun,” he said, and after a moment of hesitation, twisting his mouth with uncertainty, he added, “You too, Jamie.”

Dani looked at Jamie with mild eager hope, but Jamie snorted derisively, and said, “Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Eddie said with a shrug, and grasped Dani’s hand lightly. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“If she doesn’t want to fucking play — “

“It’s fine,” Dani said quickly before another petty fight could spark between the pair. Jamie lifted a withering eyebrow. Unmoved, Dani repeated, “It’s fine.”

To her relief, Jamie rolled her eyes and backed down. But even so, Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, appearing sheepish. “Sorry,” he said to Dani, “Do - do you want to? You don’t have to.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Dani slowly nodded in an effort only to quell the strained tension in the air, and watched with a silent sigh of relief when they both softened. Eddie smiled broadly.

“What about you?” Dani asked Jamie, “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

Jamie gave her a dry look in response. Chuckling, Dani nudged her. Jamie let herself rock back with an easy grin, using the movement to start easing away out of the kitchen.

“If anyone asks,” Jamie said, “You didn’t see me.”

And with that, she was gone, disappearing around the corner. Still staring at the kitchen entrance, there was a burgeoning rupture of disappointment in Dani’s chest when Eddie’s hand wrapped fully around hers, clasping her palm. She blinked up at his pleased smile, and swallowed it down, flickering a faint grin at him.

Without a word, he guided her gently from the kitchen to the living room where in a small sea of dancing and conversing teenagers, was a small group surrounding the coffee table on the floor and couches. Visibly flushed and tipsy with bright eyes and broad smiles, they giggled to each other, some leaning heavily on others as they lounged together with drinks in hand. And with good reason, for in the middle of the coffee table lay an empty wine bottle, rotating slowly on it’s side as one of Dani’s classmates absentmindedly spun it around while talking to a friend. Dani froze, sucking in a sharp breath, her hand clenching around Eddie’s palm.

Tugged to a stop, Eddie turned to her, his brows knitting with faint concern. “Hey,” he said softly, almost imperceptible under the noise of music and chatter. He leaned closer to be heard. “You okay?”  

When Dani only blinked at him in response, Eddie shrunk slightly, managing to look both abashed and disappointed in equal measure. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to. It’s okay. I just thought it’d be fun.”

Dani stared at him. There was no fun to be had in leaving fate up to chance on kissing random people she rarely spoke to outside of school, much less in public view of everyone else. As far as she was concerned, it was no business of anyone but her own who she kissed. Even the very notion of kissing alone sent her stomach twisting into knots and she had to swallow down the panic creeping up her throat.

And as though sensing blood in the water, her classmates spotted her and cheered, calling her over to play. Glancing at the commotion behind him, Eddie shot Dani an amused grin, shrugging helplessly. “Whoops,” he said, chuckling.

Distantly, Dani imagined Jamie taking one look at her face and grasping her hand, pulling her away to a secluded corner all to themselves. When the calling became more insistent, her heart racing under the expectant stares of her classmates, she flickered Eddie a weak smile and gave an acquiescent nod. “It’s fine,” she murmured.

With a pleased smile, Eddie squeezed her hand and pulled her towards an open space to sit. She took one last glance behind her, scanning the crowded room for Jamie, finding her nowhere. Her stomach sinking, she sat carefully and primly to the carpeted floor.

“Eddie, sit over here,” said one girl, Nina, patting the space beside her with a teasing grin. “It’s not as fun if you’re both sitting together.”

Huffing out a shy laugh, Eddie shot Dani another grin, and moved to sit next Nina and another classmate, his cheeks tinted pink. Dani exhaled slowly, tugging the hem of her dress to sit demurely against her legs, refraining from clenching her fists around the fabric. When a figure slipped beside her on the carpet, she blinked in surprise to find Roger grinning at her.

“Hey,” he said, “Surprised to find you here.”

Dani shrugged, and said, “Me too, honestly.”

He chuckled, and craned his head to scan the room. “Have you seen Jamie anywhere?” He said, “Can’t find her.”

“No,” Dani lied, shaking her head.

Sinking back to the floor, he rested back against the couch behind them with a sigh, visibly disappointed. “Too bad, then,” he murmured.

Dani tilted her head to the side with a curious frown, watching him pick at a thread from his jeans as he slowly looked around the room. But before Dani could even think of what to say, the game began, the bottle spun on the table to the sound of cheers. Dani held her breath, watching it spin and spin almost hypnotically. She almost didn’t register the bottle coming to a stop as the group teased and wolf whistled, a blushing pair leaning over the table to give each other a chaste kiss. Dani felt her cheeks warm, her eyes darting back to the table.

It was decided that turns would be taken in a clockwise fashion. Dani was careful to notice how she was near the last to go, and that Eddie was to spin in another four turns. Quietly overwrought, her stomach clenched in anticipation with every spin of the bottle, a whispered prayer behind her teeth to be spared. She watched with balled fists in her lap kiss after kiss. Chuckling faintly when Roger leaned forward to peck a girl on the mouth, blushing to his hairline and glancing furtively around the room. Sitting frozen with her heart in her throat and her eyes wide when one girl landed on another, the pair giggling madly as they pressed kisses to each other’s cheeks to the sounds of the others groaning in disappointment. And on it went, until Eddie leaned forward.

Where he had once been laughing breathlessly, his expression was now set in a determined, anxious frown. His hand on the bottle, he shot Dani a quick grin and spun it. Dani’s heart was crashing against her ribs. She stared at the bottle. Spinning and spinning. And then it slowed, wobbling to a stop, pointing directly at Dani. She sucked in a sharp breath.

The group hooted and cheered around her, but Dani could barely hear it. The sound muffled as though she were underwater. Her breath trapped in her chest, Dani slowly looked up and met Eddie’s gaze, looking at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, as though he hadn’t been truly expecting this outcome at all for all he had hoped.

What was it Eddie had said? Inevitable.

A smile slowly bloomed across his face, broad and shy, and he rose to his knees. Dani swallowed thickly, and followed suit. She was vaguely aware of the carpet texture rough on her knees and her fingers trembling on the cup of water she still held in her hand. Eddie gave her a soft reassuring smile as he leaned close.

“Ignore them,” he murmured, his eyes tracing down to her mouth, his glasses flaring with light from a nearby lamp.

Dani nodded faintly, unable to hear anything more than the rush of blood in her ears. Without responding, without any fanfare, Dani leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. His lips were unexpectedly soft and warm, and he made a small sound of surprise. She pulled away, and just like that it was over. She scooted back to her spot on the carpet, her jaw clenched, a lurching twist of her stomach that she almost felt sick with it.

The group cheered around them, and Eddie stared at her, utterly dazed. He was pulled back by Kyle, jostling his shoulders until Eddie laughed, pushing up his glasses with a wide smile, his eyes unmoving from Dani. She sat frozen, only managing to return a small, weak grin. A flicker, and then it was gone.

Beside her, Roger nudged her arm and leaned close, a teasing glint in his eyes as he said, “You look like you could use another drink.”

She blinked at him for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed, glancing down at her cup of water, “You might be right.”

Roger chuckled and helped her stand, letting her lean a hand against his shoulder as she rose to her feet. Across the table, Eddie shot her a questioning look. She pointed at her cup before jerking her thumb towards the kitchen. When he nodded, before he could say anything else, Dani turned and started towards the hallway, almost unseeing as she slipped past groups of people. But when she reached the kitchen, she stumbled to a stop, gripping the countertop to balance her weight, her cheeks warm and tingling.

With a slow exhale, she downed the rest of her water and chucked the cup into a garbage bin. When it slammed shut, a cool breeze caressed her skin, spreading goosebumps all over her, and she looked towards the back door standing wide open. There was faint firelight in the distance, and like a lighthouse beacon, she was drawn to it. There were a few people outside, smoking on the porch and lingering near a makeshift homemade fire pit made with bricks situated near the far end of the backyard. A familiar figure was sitting before it, outlined in an orange glow. Dani wandered down the porch steps and stepped closer, the tension from her shoulders easing, her breath coming back to her when Jamie looked up and caught her eyes.

She was sitting on a low pile of bricks, elbows on her knees, a piece of wood dangling from her fingertips. The corner of Jamie’s mouth curled into a small smile, and she jerked her head towards the free space next to her, patting the bricks gently. Dani happily sat beside her, careful to arrange her dress in the low seat, her shoulder and hip pressed against Jamie who chuckled softly.

In lieu of saying hello, Jamie tossed the stick into the fire and dug out a rumpled pack of smokes from her pocket, plucking out a cigarette and chrome Zippo lighter that reflected gold and orange in the crackling firelight. A flick and snap, Jamie placed the filter between her lips and lit the cigarette with practiced ease. She took a long drag and expelled the smoke in a long stream in the night air before shooting Dani a grin.

"Have fun?"

Dani hummed wordlessly, watching embers rise from the fire as the wood popped and crackled. Instead of answering she said, "Roger was asking after you."

Taking a drag of her cigarette, Jamie rolled her eyes. "Christ," she muttered in a plume of smoke. "Never gives it a rest."

Dani went very still. She stared at the side of Jamie's face, firelight flickering across her skin and glittering in her eyes. "Does he - like you?"

It had never occurred to Dani before that someone might like Jamie. That she might like them in return. That she might be involved with other people. Jamie had never shown as much as a passing interest in dating. The very notion made Dani's stomach tie itself into knots.

Jamie gave a short huff of laughter. "Break a boy's nose once and suddenly he's mad for you,” she said, “Turned him down ages ago, but he keeps trying his luck. Doesn't seem to get it through that thick skull of his."

"Oh." Dani glanced away and wrung her fingers in her lap, trying to hide the motion in the folds of her dress. "Is it because there's someone else?"

She'd asked the question when Jamie was flicking ash from the tip of her cigarette onto a lone brick beside her. Jamie's hand froze in the act, a stuttered moment of hesitation, before she lifted it to her mouth once more.

"So," Jamie said, her cheeks sinking inward, the cigarette embers glowing bright red. "You and Ed, huh?"

She very pointedly didn’t answer Dani’s question. The kiss was at the fore of Dani's mind — Eddie’s dazed expression, cheers that seemed to echo distantly in her ears — but all she could think of now was how vividly red Jamie's mouth had been painted, and how it left a mark on the cigarette.

Finally Dani replied, "You could've played, too, if you're that interested to know. I  did ask."

Jamie snorted and flicked ash from the end of the cigarette again. "Why? So I could kiss a boy who's never heard of the invention of chapstick? No, thank you."

Dani was quiet, shifting on the bricks that were cold and hard beneath her, shivering in the cool night breeze, and tried not to think about how soft Eddie’s lips were, tried to bite back the confession with her molars until her jaw ached. Instead, before Jamie could put the cigarette back between her lips, Dani plucked it from her fingers and took a tentative pull. It burned her lungs. She blew it out with a light cough, a plume of smoke drifting into the sky as Jamie huffed softly.  

“Where do you even get these?” Dani asked, coughing again before taking another pull with a slight wince.

“You would not believe how easy it is to blackmail Tommy and David,” Jamie said with a dark grin, staring at her, flicking the Zippo lighter open and closed absently.

Dani huffed out a soft laugh, smoke billowing from her pursed lips and passed the cigarette back to Jamie. “You should quit,” she said, welcoming the warmth of Jamie’s skin as their fingers grazed, “It’s not good for you.”

Jamie only shrugged, her brows knitted as she stared at the cigarette and flicked off the ashes, her jaw taut as her thumb grazed over the stained filter. Dani watched in abject fascination as Jamie placed it between her lips and took a long drag, her cheeks sunken, her eyes shut as though she were savoring it, and slowly expelled the smoke through her nose. Without a word, Jamie tossed the rest of the cigarette into the fire pit where it disappeared into crackling wood.

A cool breeze blew through them, whipping the fire and embers into a flickering dance and then settled, stronger than before. Dani shivered, rubbing her forearms and wrapping them around her stomach.

“Cold?” When Dani nodded, Jamie let out a soft chuckle, and murmured, “Always bloody cold. C’mere then.”

Before Dani could get a word in edgewise, Jamie was already slipping out of her flannel and draping it over Dani’s shoulders. “But - Jamie, I’m - “

“Shut it, and get in,” Jamie said, linking their arms and tugging Dani closer.

Dani chuckled breathlessly when they bumped into each other and curled closer into Jamie’s body warmth. After a moment of consideration, she let her hand graze down the skin of Jamie’s forearm to grasp her hand, tangling their fingers together and resting them on Dani’s lap. Jamie went still for a long moment and slowly relaxed, breathing softly in the cool night air. The sound was soothing along with the crackling bonfire, easier to sit in and breathe compared to the booming music and constant chatter Dani could still hear muffled from inside the house.

Resting her head against Jamie’s shoulder, she quietly fiddled with the watch and scrunchie on Jamie’s wrist. The facing of the watch was cool under her touch as she circled it with her thumb before drifting down to the scrunchie, picking at the edges of it. She smiled softly, and drew in a deep breath to sigh, smelling woodsmoke and something different, something new.

She raised her head with a frown. “You smell...different.”

"Like sandalwood, yeah? Least, that’s what the cologne bottle said,” Jamie said, “Nicked it from Carson's closet."

"You shouldn't steal from Carson."

"What? He wasn't using it. Was still in its box and everything."

Dani pressed her mouth together, but took another moment to breathe it in. A woodsy smell, like rich earth. Surprisingly pleasant and comforting, and wholly fitting for Jamie. “It smells nice,” Dani admitted with a murmur, “But you should still at least ask Carson next time.”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie nodded and sighed, her knee jumping and her hand twitching in Dani’s lap. Dani glanced down, running a soothing thumb in the valley between Jamie’s knuckles as the pads of her fingers grazed Dani’s knee. The clicking of the lighter was back. Open and closed, again and again in a restless rhythm. Peeking at Jamie’s profile outlined in warm light, she found her staring intensely at the fire, unblinking. With a shake of her head and an impish grin, Dani snatched the lighter from her hand.

“Oi!” Jamie said indignantly, her now empty hand hanging uselessly in the air.

“This is mine now,” Dani said, holding up the lighter triumphantly. “No more smoking for you.”

Jamie made a grab for it, but Dani pulled away, laughing brightly. They tussled there on the bricks, Jamie reaching and Dani pulling away until they were nearly toppling off onto the grass.

“We’re going to fall,” Dani said, laughing and shoving Jamie, “Move!”

“Wouldn’t if you’d just give it back, you prat,” Jamie grunted, stretching an arm behind Dani where she held out the lighter.

Dani elbowed her in the ribs and Jamie jerked back with a pained grunt, “Fuck.”

“Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Dani said, wincing apologetically, taking Jamie’s arm that hovered over her shoulders and wrapped it snuggly around her as though that would ease the pain.

“Got a mean elbow, Poppins,” Jamie murmured, rubbing at her ribs with her free hand, but couldn’t hold back a soft laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said again, grasping Jamie’s hand that was slung around her shoulders, linking their fingers again, shaking it for good measure as she chuckled softly. “I won't do it again.”

“Beginning to think you’re the bane of my existence.”

“I promise to go easy on you from now on,” Dani said dryly, and huddled closer, “Now hush, and keep me warm.”

Jamie chuckled lowly and murmured, “Bossy.”

"You like it."

When Jamie arched an eyebrow, Dani grinned impishly and ducked her head to hide it, resting again on Jamie’s shoulder. They fell quiet again, watching the fire. It continued to crackle and burn away to the sounds from the house and the whisper of the wind in the trees. Jamie’s arm was warm around her, a steady weight that she could’ve drifted off to sleep under if it weren’t for the fact that Dani was surrounded by the scent of sandalwood. Both comforting and heady, like sitting in the tallgrass at sunset, the song of katydids in the summer air. Or lying on a picnic blanket in the green and bright blooms of Jamie’s backyard. Breathing it in, her eyes almost slipped shut when Jamie spoke again.

“You know why they call it a bonfire?”

“No,” Dani murmured, “Why?”

“In the old country, in the old times, when the days started getting shorter and the nights longer, they used to build giant bonfires,” Jamie said. Dani slowly lifted her head to stare at her profile.  “They’d talk about the people they’ve lost. Toss in offerings to drive away evil spirits,” she continued, and gave Dani a sidelong grin, “Things like bones.”

A soft smile gradually grew on Dani’s face, seeing where this was going but was loath to interrupt as Jamie continued with her story, enchanted with her voice, soft and low as though she didn’t want to disturb the quiet bubble that seemed to encompass them from the rest of the world. It was as though Jamie was casting a spell where Dani couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop her eyes drifting over Jamie’s features. The firelight dancing in her eyes, her slim nose, down to her mouth. The scar there was painted over with red, but Dani could still see the outline of it in the light, a thin groove that descended down her chin. Dani gripped Jamie’s flannel with her free hand and tugged it closer around her, smothering down the urge to reach up and run her thumb over the length of it.

“So, you got any old bones you want to throw?” Jamie finished, turning back to Dani and abruptly went still.

Blinking out of a daze, Dani looked up to find Jamie staring at her. “Not really,” Dani murmured, watching as Jamie's expression gradually became carefully blank and unreadable, “Can’t think of anything.”

She was close enough to count the freckles along Jamie’s cheeks, to feel Jamie breathe against her, ribs expanding and shrinking abnormally slow, and Dani found herself inching nearer, wanting to sink right into it. To breathe in sandalwood again and feel Jamie’s soft breaths against her lips. Her eyes flickered down again, following the path of her scar, captivated at the sharp lines of Jamie’s jaw going taut. She looked back up, and met eyes dark as a storming sea. Pupils black and piercing right into her, unblinking and unmoving. Dani swallowed hard, her head feeling thick and hazy.

It was hard to look away, the force of Jamie’s stare was indivisible, but like a moth to a flame, Dani was drawn back to Jamie’s mouth, to Jamie’s scar. Her own mouth suddenly dry, Dani licked her lips and watched Jamie’s nose flare and her mouth drop open slightly at the movement. Dani leaned closer, her forehead pressing against Jamie’s, her skin warm to the touch. Jamie sucked in a sharp breath, utterly still, and Dani eased closer, her eyes slipping shut, her breath shallow as their noses grazed, Jamie’s breath hot on her lips —

The back door banged against the house, and Dani jerked her head back, startled at the sound. She twisted her head to see the commotion, laughter coming from the group on the porch. Dani froze, her breath caught in her chest. It was unlike her to be caught so unawares, to let her hard-fought defenses crumble to her feet and forget her surroundings. But Jamie was warm, and Jamie was safe. And casting her panicked eyes around now, no one in the backyard so much as looked their way, lost in their own drunken world to care about anyone else for once.

The hand that was still tangled in Dani’s tightened in a gentle reassuring pressure and with her heart pounding against her chest, Dani turned to see Jamie still staring at her, vivid and intense, pinning her to the spot. Dani opened her mouth to say something, to say anything, but she choked on the words, her throat lodged.

“Hey, there you are.”

Jerking again, Dani snapped her head to the sound and found Roger ambling towards them with a friendly grin.

“Roger,” Dani croaked, and cleared her throat, her mouth flickering into a weak smile, “Hey. Sorry, I - Did I miss the rest of the game?”

He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, but it ended almost as soon as you left so it’s no big deal,” he said, and jerked his thumb behind him towards the house, “Eddie’s been looking for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, said something about wanting to try his hand at our pool table in the basement,” Roger said, “Hey, Jamie, did you want to — “ He paused, hesitant with a furrowed brow, “ — Sorry, uh. Did I interrupt something?”

A low growl came deep within Jamie’s chest and Dani placed her hand on her knee to placate her. “It’s fine,” Dani said, her voice high even to her own ears, “We were just talking.”

Roger nodded slowly, his eyes tracking the movement of Dani’s hand and then darted between them, his cheeks darkening. “Oh - yeah. I see,” he said, and cleared his throat, digging his hands in his pockets and giving them an awkward but soft grin, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dani repeated.

But Roger was already stepping backwards towards the house. “I’ll fetch Eddie for you,” he said, “Sorry again.”

Dani blinked after him, watching him disappear inside the house and exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping. She leaned back into Jamie, abruptly tired, and looked back almost expecting to find that same soul-pinning gaze, but was instead greeted with Jamie looking at her with soft concern.

“All right?” Jamie murmured, her voice low.

Taking a moment to just breathe silently, listening to her heart settle, Dani nodded and eased back in, knocking their foreheads together again. “I think - um,” Dani started with a murmur, eyes slipping shut, “I think I’m a little drunk.” Jamie chuckled softly, but didn’t respond. “I don’t think I like it.”

“Color me surprised,” Jamie replied softly, running a soothing thumb over her knuckles. “Think it’s time Ed got you home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Dani mumbled, “I want to stay."

With you , she didn’t say. In an effort to not think about why that was, Dani pulled back to give Jamie a considering look. “You got here with Nan’s truck, right?”

“I did,” Jamie said, frowning curiously, “Why?”

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

Jamie blinked. “Go where?”

“I don’t know,” Dani said, shrugging helplessly, “We could drive to the coast and see the Atlantic ocean finally like we’ve always wanted to.”

Jamie huffed out a soft laugh, affection blooming in her eyes. More familiar and soothing than whatever hungry thing had been lurking behind Jamie’s eyes moments ago.

“I think,” Jamie started slowly, “That it’s time for you to go home.”

Disappointment sinking heavy as stones in her stomach, Dani said. “I could go home with you instead.”

Something flashed in Jamie’s eyes but it vanished with a shake of her head. “And risk Nan seeing the state I let you get yourself in? She’ll scalp me right there and then.”

A soft laugh burst out of Dani and she rolled her eyes. “She wouldn’t.”

“She would.”

“Then come to my place then.”

“Dani — “

“Jamie.”

Dani grinned sheepishly when Jamie gave her a sharp look, more amused than anything. Jamie sighed again, shaking her head and then rose to her feet, holding a hand out to Dani. “All right, come on, then.”

With a broad smile, Dani took her hand and let Jamie pull her to her feet and grasp her elbow when Dani almost teetered off balance when the world swayed just a bit. Dani groaned and leaned into Jamie, pressing her face against her shoulder until the spinning stopped.

“God, this sucks,” Dani said, muffed against the fabric of Jamie’s t-shirt, feeling Jamie run a soothing hand down her back.

Jamie snorted. “Welcome to the club, Poppins.”

“Please don’t ever let me do that again,” Dani said, gradually leaning away and letting Jamie guide her towards the porch.

“Reckon you’ll manage just fine yourself after waking up with a splitting headache, but I’ll keep an eye out just in case.”

Just as Jamie pulled her inside, Eddie stepped into the kitchen and slowed at the sight of them. “Oh, there you are.”

Jamie pressed a hand on Dani back and eased her towards Eddie. “Home. Now,” Jamie said in a dark tone the brooked no room for argument.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he nodded, his mouth flickering into a weak smile. “Sure, yeah. No problem.”

When Eddie grasped her hand, Dani looked over her shoulder to give Jamie a forlorn look.

“You get on home,” Jamie said, visibly softening, “I’ll call in about half to check in and let you know I’m home, all right?”

Slowly, Dani nodded, unhappy with the end results, but reassured anyway. Slipping off Jamie’s flannel, she handed it back to Jamie, watching her throat bob and her eyes flicker with that dark look before smoothing over with another reassuring grin.

“Come on,” Eddie said, tugging gently on Dani’s hand and she let herself be pulled along, “Before she actually kills me.”

“Look at you, Ed,” Jamie said, “An old dog can learn new tricks.”

Jamie smirked when Eddie shot her a dirty look, but Dani laughed softly. “You two...are dumb.”

They turned to look at her in unison, and both visibly softened. Dani blinked and swallowed thickly, unmoored under the attention, her eyes darting between them. Curly dark hair and fond smiles, it was disconcerting how sibling-like they appeared just then.

“Can we go now?” Dani mumbled.

Jamie smacked Eddie’s arm, “What’re doin’ just standing there, you git?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie gently pulled Dani away. She sent Jamie another forlorn wave that she chuckled softly at before Dani disappeared around the corner down the hall.

The walk home was as quiet as the one they took earlier that evening, Eddie’s hand warm in hers, keeping a steady grip. They were larger than Jamie’s, but just as rough from years of handling baseball bats and tennis racquets.

“So, I’m thinking,” Eddie said, broaching the quiet.

“Yeah?” Dani said absently, still holding Jamie’s lighter, running her thumb over the chrome plating repeatedly.

“We should get married.”

Dani jerked to a stop with wide eyes. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie said, grinning broadly, “You don’t remember?”

It came to her at once. The memory of daring Eddie to kiss her. Of Eddie returning days later, asking her to marry him. Dani’s heart pounded in her ears, her stomach lurching and her knuckles turning white around the lighter. “Are you serious.”

“Yeah, was thinking we could head down to City Hall,” Eddie said, an impish glint in his eyes, “Got money saved up and everything. Get Jamie to scrounge up some flowers for your bouquet.”

Dani stared at him for a long moment, dread creeping over her and she couldn’t place why the idea of it felt so wrong. Not with the memory of the ghost of Jamie’s breath on her lips. Not with the smell of sandalwood still lingering on her skin. She felt dizzy and exhausted, unable to fight off her cheeks heating up and the alcohol burning hot in her veins. Wanting nothing more than to collapse into her bed and not move for days and to not think why she’d rather be holding Jamie’s hand right now.

“And have to deal with my mom afterwards?” she said with a glower, watching his face blanch. Rolling her eyes for good measure, she dragged him down the street, listening to him sputter behind her. “It’s your funeral, Eddie.”

--

The party might well never have happened for how little they spoke of it. A passing dream. A faded image. An old cenotaph worn away by rain and well-loved fingers. Except Eddie kept putting his arm around Dani’s shoulders at every opportunity. When they sat in the car. When they ate lunch side by side. When they were squeezed together on the couch in the basement watching movies with Carson.

The nights were still cold, so she did not mind much. Eddie was always warm. More times than she could count, she’d stolen one of his sweaters and worn it around the house in the winter months, sleeves long and trailing to the edge of her fingertips, hiding her hands in a way she found comforting. He never put his arm around her when Jamie was around, however. Somehow that was a deterrent in and of itself.

Days like today, Eddie and the other boys were all off to Des Moines with Mike to see a Iowa Oaks game. Carson had been dragged away with much grumbling, insisting that he’d rather remain behind, only for Tommy and David to grab him bodily by the shoulders, stuff a baseball cap on his head, and drag him out to the car, laughing as they went. Carson had splayed out a hand against the rear window of the car, making plaintive expressions at Dani and Jamie through the glass and mouthing the words,  ‘Remember me!’  until they laughed and waved him off from the mouth of the garage.

Which left them alone in an eerily quiet O’Mara house. ‘Girls nights’ Judy called them. Time at home with just her and Dani and Jamie. Sometimes Nan. Rarely Karen.

Glancing over her shoulder towards the garage door leading inside the house, Jamie reached into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. “Think she’ll notice if I pop round the side of the house for a quick smoke?”

“I can distract her, if you want,” Dani offered.

Jamie stuck a cigarette between her teeth and smiled around it. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

When Jamie started off around the house to duck behind a fence-like shrubbery, Dani stayed rooted in place for a moment. Then she followed. By the time she rounded the corner, Jamie was already slouching against the weatherboards and flicking a flame to life with the edge of her thumb against a cheap plastic lighter she had begrudgingly bought after Dani refused to return her Zippo. The hedge narrowed the grass and gravel passageway down this side of the house until there was barely enough space to stand two abreast. Still, Dani stood before Jamie rather than lean against the wall beside her, so that the toes of their shoes bracketed one another – black and white sneakers like a checkerboard for chess pieces.

Jamie’s cheeks sank inwards, and she lifted the cigarette away to blow a thin stem of smoke to the side, away from Dani. In the light of the day and the shadow of the eaves, Jamie’s eyes did not appear as dark. She wasn’t wearing red lipstick today. Not like last weekend. Dani found her gaze drawn to the purse of her lips at the cigarette anyway. The corner of Jamie’s mouth quirked in a smile, and Dani’s eyes jerked up, realising she’d been caught staring.

Reaching out, Dani gently took the cigarette from Jamie’s mouth between two fingers of her own. The smirk vanished and Jamie watched her movements with an expression veiled in tendrils of smoke like vines. They stood close enough that Dani could count the links in the chain necklace disappearing beneath the collar of Jamie’s shirt. She had to resist the urge to pull the slink of silvery chain free, twine it between her fingers and hold it there, a steady pressure at the back of Jamie’s neck.

Dani was wearing one of Eddie’s sweaters to ward off the chill. She had to push back the long sleeve in order to lift the cigarette to her own lips for a brief drag. Her lungs burned. Against her better judgement, she held the smoke there until it felt like she was drowning in the wreckage of a house fire.

“Are you staying the night?” Dani asked. She expelled the smoke in one long rush, coughing slightly at the end.  

Jamie shrugged. “Thought I might. Depends.”

“Does Nan need help back home?”

In answer Jamie made an uncertain noise and took back the cigarette, their fingers brushing together. “She’s been leaning on me a lot more lately,” she said. “Annoying as all hell, really. But she hasn’t been looking so great either.”

“I mean, if you want to then of course you can go back tonight.”

Jamie thought on it for a moment before waving a dismissive hand. “Nah,” she flicked ash from the tip of her cigarette and lifted it back to her mouth. “The old bag will be fine for one night without me.”

“If you’re smoking back there,” said Judy’s voice from the backyard, sounding stern, “Then I want you two to know: you’re not being sneaky.”

Immediately they froze. Jamie dropped the cigarette to the ground and Dani ground it into the gravel with her shoe, while Jamie exhaled a plume of smoke into the air.

“We’re not!” Jamie called out.

“Well, whatever it is you’re doing, it can’t be decent. Otherwise, you’d do it out in the open,” Judy’s voice drawled, coming into view down the other end of the house. She had her hand up to her eyes as though she’d just walked into one of her sons in the bathroom. “Is it safe?”

Dani’s cheeks burned. Beside her Jamie made a small choked noise. “We’re -! We’re just talking!” Dani said.

Judy parted her fingers so she could peer through at them, then lowered her arm. “If you say so. I’m making sandwiches. You two want some?”

“Sounds good,” croaked Jamie.

Judy left, and Dani found herself biting her lip and avoiding Jamie’s eye. Jamie had her hands shoved into the pockets of her bulky jacket and was kicking at a loose stone.

“We should –” Dani started to say at exactly the same time Jamie said, “I’m starving –”

They stopped and Dani laughed breathlessly, catching only a glimpse of Jamie’s smile when she looked up.

“Yeah, I’m pretty hungry,” Dani agreed, while Jamie simply nodded.

Jamie gestured, hand still stuck in her pocket so that the whole jacket moved with her. “You first.”

“Right. Okay.”

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear that had escaped from her headband, Dani inched away until they could walk single file and not bump into one another. She had so many memories of the two of them – of herself and Jamie, of herself and Eddie, or even herself and Carson – wedged together, shoulder to shoulder, down this narrow aisle between house and hedge, as though squeezing through an artery.  

Now Dani walked as though at the head of a procession, making her way towards the green expanse of the back lawn in the distance. There was no sound of footfalls behind her, no crunch of gravel underfoot. Dani walked, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she looked back, Jamie would be gone.

--

Dani heard the phone ringing from her room. She was sitting on her bed, the sheets a sprawl of notes from class, a book propped open on one knee and a pad of paper on the other. Her head perked up when she heard the ringing, her hand going still so that the tip of her pencil hovered over the last word she had written.

The phone rang exactly twice, then was picked up. Dani could hear her mother’s muttered greeting downstairs. She glanced up towards the door to her room. Shut but not locked. Karen had removed the lock to Dani’s room when she was thirteen. Dani could barely even remember what privacy was like anymore; perhaps they’d always been strangers.

Carefully setting aside her book and notepad, marking her place by folding her pencil between the pages, Dani slipped from the bed and padded across the room on socked feet. She twisted the knob slowly and peeled open the door just enough so she could slip through the gap. A quick check, holding her breath and peering down the hall, and Dani approached the stairs on that old familiar path of floorboards, studiously avoiding the ones that creaked or groaned. She lowered herself down upon the second highest step, propped her chin atop her knees, and listened.

The television laughed softly in the living room below, an audience track like static on repeat. Her mother sighed. There was the clink of glass against tile.

“Jesus,” her mother said, voice a familiar mumble around the cylinder of a cigarette. “When?”

A pause as someone spoke on the other side of the line.

“And they think it was a -? Ah. I see. Thank you. I’d appreciate that. No, that’s all right. I’ll handle it. Yeah. You, too. Bye.”

Dani frowned when she heard the click of the plastic receiver being placed back on its cradle. She could feel her lungs tickle from the drift of smoke rising up through the air. Pushing herself to her feet, she made her way down the stairs, adding an extra step along the way just in case her mother was counting. When Dani entered the kitchen, her mother was stabbing out a cigarette with nervous little jumps of her fingers. The ashtray was littered with filters from just that day.

“Just getting some water,” Dani mumbled in passing as she shuffled towards the sink.

Her mother made no comment, though Dani could feel eyes boring a hole in her spine like a twin set of awls. And then out of the blue she said, “Judy rang. Though, I guess you knew that already.”

Dani paused, hand holding open a cupboard door as she pulled down a glass. “I didn’t,” she said truthfully. Though she had suspected. Catching the tail end of the conversation left little in the way of clues.

Karen hummed a disbelieving note behind her. Dani very carefully kept her attention fixed on the act of filling her glass.

“She said she's picked up those rolls of film you were having developed from the pharmacy this afternoon,” said her mother. “And Ruth Heron died.”

Dani was nodding, then she went very still. The glass continued to fill until the water flowed over and she had to wrench the tap shut. Setting the glass into the sink, she turned slowly, eyes wide, to stare at her mother across the kitchen.

“What?” Dani said numbly.

“The pharmacy,” her mother repeated, digging out another cigarette from a pack on the dining table. “They’d finished with all those pictures you like to take.”

“No, I - The other - Ruth  died? When?”

With a shrug, Karen flicked a flame to life with her thumb at the edge of a lighter and held it to the end of her cigarette. “Today. Or maybe yesterday. I don’t know. The funeral’s on Friday.”

That couldn’t be right. Dani had just seen Jamie earlier that very day. They had parted ways after school. Jamie had been smiling and joking with Carson, while Eddie trailed behind them with his nose buried in a book.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” her mother continued, breathing out smoke through her nostrils and shaking her head. “Bad memories. Bad everything. Barely kept it together at the last one. Well - you remember. Surely.”

She did. Dani could remember the last funeral she had attended all too clearly. The long walk down the aisle towards an altar-like casket draped in flowers and silver. Dani shaking her head, refusing to budge. Her mother’s grip painful on her shoulder, but her voice a bare tremble, like a piece of glass on the verge of shattering. And a man in an ashen suit with somber black eyes, hands clasped in a sort of passive mannerliness. The coroner. The coroner, who had walked her down the aisle towards her father’s powdered corpse with a courtly offer of his arm.

“Will you?”

Dani jerked. Blinking furiously, she shook her head. “Sorry. What?”

Karen was watching her and tapping the lighter lightly against the tabletop. “Will you go to the funeral?”

Dani’s mouth worked, her throat dry. “Yes,” she said finally. “Yes, of course I’m going.”

“Judy can take you. She said she was taking the boys. Said she’d take you, too, if you wanted.”

Karen didn’t say anything more. She took another long drag of her cigarette, the end glowing with embers that she flickered off into the ashtray, blowing out a plume of smoke. Dani watched her in a wide eyed daze, her breath shallow. Watched her mother place the cigarette back between her lips and pick the phone receiver back up to place against her ear.

“There’s nothing in the fridge and I’m too tired to do anything in this kitchen tonight,” Karen said, already dialing a number, “Do you want chinese for dinner?”

Dani pushed away from the sink, voice faint as she spoke, as faint as she felt. “I need to go,” she said, wiping her hand dry on her jeans and stumbling out of the kitchen. “I need to - I need to - ”

“Is that a yes, or not? I need to know,” her mother called after her. “Danielle, where are you -?  Danielle.”  

Karen’s voice continued speaking, but Dani was hardly listening anymore. Somehow her feet had walked her into the other room and out the front door. Barefoot and hands clenched tightly by her sides, she marched straight across the street to the O’Mara’s house, shoving open the door without knocking or preamble into an eerily quiet house. The silence of it made her pause, swallowing hard. But then her feet were moving again, taking her down the hallway and into the kitchen to find both Mike and Judy murmuring quietly to each other, the pair studiously piling food in tupperware.

At the sound of her entrance, heavy breathing and feet on cold tile, they both turned and blinked in surprise.

“Is it - “ Dani choked out, eyes darting between them. “Is it true?”

“Danielle, honey. What -?“ Judy said, a hand pressed to her chest, confusion and surprise written all over her face. “What are you doing here? We thought you were with - “

Dani stared unblinking. When she didn’t respond, Judy and Mike shared a worried glance. “God,” Judy breathed, “She’s been alone all day. I knew we should’ve called the hospital - “

“We didn’t know which one she was taken to,” Mike said, placing a reassuring hand on Judy’s shoulder.

“Then we should have called all of them.”

“They wouldn’t have told us anything anyways, sweetheart,” Mike said, softer than Dani’s ever heard him, “We’re not family.”

“She’s as good as,” Judy said firmly, and sighed when Dani remained utterly still, rooted to the spot with her heart a claxon in her chest. She stepped towards Dani and engulfed her in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, honey.“

Dani didn’t move. “I have to go,” she murmured, “I have to go find Jamie.”

“I know,” Judy said, pulling back to cup Dani’s face and give her a flickering smile. “I know. Mike, the food,” she added with a glance over her shoulder to Mike who jumped into action, fastening the tupperware with lids.

Dani was unseeing as they moved around and spoke to her in soft tones. Jamie found her after school. Jamie’s been at the hospital for hours. No one knows if she’s home yet. Dani was nodding along, not realizing she was doing so, as though seeing herself do it from afar. A call and response as she was handed tupperware to take with her.

“I’ll drive you,” Mike said.

“It’s fine,” Dani said.

“Honey - “ Judy started.

“I’ll be fine,” Dani said, drawing in a deep breath and giving them a frail smile. “Promise.”

Judy looked at her for a long moment and nodded. “Off you go, then,” Judy said softly, “Give her our love, please. And let us know she’s all right.”

Dani nodded again, and was guided out, stumbling back across the street and back through the front door of her house. The television was still blaring, a laugh track that bored into Dani’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. Shoving her feet into a pair of flats, she swallowed down a swell of indignation and was reaching blindly for the car keys hanging from their hook on the wall, and snatching up the wallet on the corner table beneath them, the gardenias there already wilting.

She had a destination, and she had a driver’s license. And that was enough.

The house stood quiet and still on the long stretch of bungalow cottages lining the street. Peeling white paint and exposed beams against the backdrop of a bright orange and red sunset dappled through sparse clouds. She shifted in her seat, unnerved to see the windows dark and blinds partially drawn, like dark eyes on a pale skull.

Dani’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the cabin utterly silent save for the slow sigh of relief at the sight of Nan’s ancient truck parked in front of the house. Dani swallowed heavily as her eyes lingered on the fading green paint, feeling a sharp pin prick in her chest. She pushed it aside, tucked it away, her eyes darting back to the house before stumbling out of her mother’s car with tupperware in hand.

Her feet felt heavy as she marched up the porch and knocked on the front door, her knuckles sharp against the wood. There was no answer. No sound of feet thudding against the floor to beckon Dani inside. She frowned and bit her lip, sparing another glance at the green truck behind her. Maybe Jamie had gone along in the ambulance and wasn’t home yet. Maybe she took a cab, unwilling or unable to carter Mikey along in the ambulance. She shook her head lightly, the heat from the tupperware warm against the skin of her palms, the late spring air utterly still.

She knocked again, and waited for a response. She peeked through windows and past the small gap the blinds granted her, finding nothing but furniture shadowed in a dark room. Dani straightened upright, shifting anxiously on her feet before rapping her knuckles on the window. She stood and waited, listening to the chirps of robins nearby.

“Jamie?” she called out, a burr in her voice. There was still no answer. Not even the sound of Mikey’s chatter or stumbling footsteps as he wandered through rooms with unabashed willfulness.

Uncertainty cast over her in the silence. She pressed her mouth together, a whorl of discomfort in her stomach, and stepped off the porch to round the house between the chain link fence and the white peeling boards. When she neared the corner, she craned her head to peer around it and stopped short. Struck with relief, Dani exhaled quietly to find Jamie sitting in the middle of the bloom and green of the garden on that old picnic blanket. Slouched, her back turned to Dani, unmoving and quiet.

She was watching the sunset, Dani noticed. The light casting her in warm tones, still dressed in the same clothes she’d worn to school. And in her lap, sleeping quietly against her shoulder and curled up right into her, was Mikey. Dani’s heart lurched as she neared them, and hesitantly repeated, her voice a whisper, “Jamie?”

If Jamie heard her, registered her presence at all, she made no effort to acknowledge it. A thickness was building in Dani’s throat, a deep ache spreading across her chest. She exhaled, fingers drumming restlessly on the tupperware she still held. Biting her lip, she moved quietly to rest the tupperware on the porch, eyes fixed upon Jamie, distantly aware of the unreasonable fear that if she looked away, Jamie might vanish.

She moved carefully, slipping off her flats to step on the blanket — a flannel pattern of green and blue, faded from years of use — and slowly sank down beside Jamie, finally getting a look at her face. She expected a scowl maybe. Perhaps tear tracks dried on skin and red eyes. Instead, Jamie was looking straight ahead, expression eerily blank and eyes just short of wide, barely blinking. Void of anything that might convey a sense of grief or loss, or anything at all. Dani’s breath caught in her chest, fists clenched in her lap, not knowing what to do.

Her eyes traced down to Mikey in her lap, curled up and clutching at Jamie’s gold medal against his chest. Dani blinked and looked away, pressing her eyes shut and biting her lip hard enough to hurt until the burning in her eyes eased and she could breathe properly again. Sighing softly, she turned back to Jamie who remained unmoving. Slowly, Dani reached up and let her fingers graze against the hunch of Jamie’s back.

Jamie jerked at the contact and Dani wrenched her hand away, eyes wide. Jamie blinked rapidly, as though waking up from a daze.

“Hi,” Dani whispered, loath to disturb the quiet and Mikey’s sleep.

Looking at her for a long moment, Jamie swallowed thickly. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice rough and faint, and looked down at Mikey in her arms. “Finally got him to sleep. Didn’t want to move.”

Dani nodded absently, scanning over Jamie carefully. The unkempt frizz of her hair that she itched to smooth down. The heavy droop of her eyelids. The stiff hunch of her back.

“When did you last eat?” Dani asked. Jamie shook her head in answer, and that was all Dani needed to know. “I brought food for you. From Judy’s.”

Having returned to watching the horizon bleed hues of red and pink and purple across the sky, Jamie nodded but didn’t say anything more, arms wrapped around Mikey and running a hand gently through his hair.

Dani exhaled at the unbearably thick silence. “Jamie, I’m - “ she started, a tremble in her voice, raising her hand again to place on Jamie’s back, gently smoothing over the ridges and dips of her spine through her t-shirt, “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie cleared her throat and twitched away from Dani’s hand. “I’m gonna go put him down,” Jamie muttered flatly, and carefully stood with Mikey in her arms.

Without another word, Jamie turned and started towards the backdoor. Mikey whined at the movement and mumbled something Dani couldn’t hear. “I know, love,” Jamie murmured as she disappeared into the darkness of the house.

Feeling overwrought and helpless, Dani stood, leaving the blanket where it was with the vague inkling that Jamie would be returning to it sometime soon and turned to follow Jamie into the house. She jerked to a stop, sucking in a sharp breath when her eyes landed on the trellis fence where Jamie grew her morning glories. Tucked away there in the corner, hidden beside the porch steps was a broken shovel snapped in half, and Jamie’s bike. Chain torn apart. Spokes broken and warped. A wheel bent nearly in half. The frame dented and scraped from a rain of blows. Four years of Jamie’s hard work and devotion, tossed in a tide of ripped and torn foliage.

Dani swallowed and eased closer, barefoot in the grass, slow and hesitant as though she were approaching a cavernous canyon. Her thumb drifted towards her mouth, biting at the nail and skin until it hurt, until the urge to cry was smothered. Drawing in a deep stuttering breath, Dani tucked her thumb away in her fist and entered the house with the tupperware in hand.

It was dark inside, but for the gleam of twilight diffused through windows and curtains. It seemed smaller in the dark, shrunken and exsanguinated. A weary creature laid to rest. Absent the noise Dani had grown used to hearing throughout the house. Jamie’s music muffled through the walls, and the kettle whistling for afternoon tea, and Nan’s sitcoms with the volume on low, and Mikey’s nonsensical chatter, and the constant bickering. Until all that was left was an eerie silence.

Dani stood in it for only a moment until it quickly became unbearable. She set the tupperware on the kitchen counter and flicked on the lights throughout the house. When she reached the living room to turn on the various lamps, she slowed to a pause. Nan’s weathered armchair sat by the couch. Maroon red and pristine. And lying next to it on the floor, a toppled saucer and cup in pieces, orbited by a dark tea stain already dried in the carpet. A lump appeared in Dani’s throat, her hands balled into her fists as she bent down to carefully gather the porcelain pieces, cold dregs of tea still remaining in what was left of the cup.

Dani returned to the kitchen to set the pieces on the counter, unsure of what to do, unwilling to toss Nan’s heirlooms from Scotland in the trash. There was a full pot of tea and another cup on the counter, untouched and gone cold. Hands trembling, Dani went about settling up the kettle to boil and drained the pot of its contents for another brew while waiting for Jamie to return to the kitchen.

It felt easier, keeping her hands busy. To focus on movement and precision, and not the deep ache in her chest. To rinse the cup and pot in the sink, and not think about Jamie’s proud smile when Nan had given her nod of approval after fixing the kitchen table’s wobble. She wondered distantly, exhaling slowly, shakily, as she set the table for dinner, if this is what Nan meant all along. Keeping one’s hands busy.

Jamie still hadn’t returned when Dani was finished. Not even when the kettle’s whistle reared to blow seconds before Dani pulled it from the burning red coil. Tea steeping in the pot, she hesitated at the stove, worrying at her lower lip before finally slipping out of the kitchen down the narrow hallway. She neared Nan’s bedroom, seeing the door slightly ajar, hearing absolute silence.

Drawing in a low deep breath, Dani stepped closer and eased the door open.

Jamie stood motionless and silent in the middle of Nan’s room, facing just slightly away from Dani, staring blankly at Nan’s bed. Dani’s breath caught in her chest. Standing frozen in the doorway, rooted to the spot, Dani felt as though with one wrong move, the walls would collapse inwards. The air still and thick, as though holding its breath. Jamie remained unmoving, shell-shocked and stiff. Slowly, Dani stepped inside, floorboards creaking wearily under the weight of her feet.

“Hey,” Dani whispered, stepping closer, her hand twitching to grasp Jamie’s.

Jamie didn’t respond. Dani followed her gaze and went still when her eyes landed on the small pile of belongings on Nan’s bed. Clothes folded neatly, a pair of round tortoise-shell spectacles, and jewelry that consisted of modest pearl earrings, a small cross hanging from a simple chain, and a wedding ring.

“Hey,” she said again, wrapping her hand around Jamie’s, “Look at me.”

Dani gently pulled Jamie away, turning her so she faced Dani instead of the memories that lay on Nan’s bed. As stiff as she was, Jamie was pliant, blinking as her eyes gradually met Dani’s, gray and still as stone. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she squeezed Jamie’s hand tight.

“It’s okay,” Dani breathed, her voice cracking and trembling, struggling not to reach up to cup Jamie’s face, feeling her eyes burn, “It’s okay. You don’t - you don’t have to feel anything right now. I’ll feel it for you. For the both of us.”

Jamie visibly swallowed hard, her throat working. She blinked and ducked her eyes, slowly easing her hand out of Dani’s, her jaw going tight. Dani watched quietly as Jamie dug her hand in her jean pocket, pulling something out in her fist. She silently took Dani’s hand and placed Dani’s blue scrunchie in her palm. Something hard twisted painfully in Dani’s chest, and she clenched her jaw until it ached. Slowly looking up, Jamie’s expression remained wooden save for the taut lines of her jaw. Dani wanted so much to press closer, to guide Jamie’s head to her shoulder and wrap her within Dani’s arms. But Jamie eased away, giving Dani one last blank look before quietly stepping past her and out of the room.

Clenching her fist around the scrunchie, Dani pressed her eyes shut, swallowing hard past a thick lump in her throat, listening to the distant sounds of Jamie moving around in the kitchen. With a trembling exhale, Dani hastily wiped her eyes and cheeks, and stepped towards Mikey’s crib. She softened to find him still fast asleep, still clutching at Jamie’s medal as though that was the only thing tethering him to a restful evening nap. He’d always been taken to shiny, bright things.

But now there’d be no more medals. No more triumphant smiles and photos. Not any time soon at least. Not with this shadow of Jamie ambling around like a fast-fading ghost. Taking a fortifying breath, Dani pressed a kiss to her fingers and reached down to place it against Mikey’s cheek, letting her hand smooth over his hair and down his back. After watching him for a moment longer, she slowly retreated, letting herself take another long look around the room. Feeling a twinge in her chest, Dani closed the door, leaving just a crack open, and followed Jamie to the kitchen.

--

Dani woke trembling beneath her bedsheets. Her jaw wired shut, teeth clenched so hard she could feel the ache of it spread across her skull. Her breath stuttered in small gasps in her chest, a thick lump of lead in her throat that threatened to drown her. She slowly came to herself, slowly felt the world extend beyond the single point of choking back a sob. Echoes of her dad’s laugh ringing in her ears, Nan’s stoic affection and wry grin turning away. Vestiges of a dream slipping fast between her fingers until all Dani was left with was the feeling of being hollowed out.

Unfurling from the tight ball Dani had curled herself into, her limbs aching from the position, she gradually stretched out on her back, placing a hand against her face to block out the elongated morning rays stretching across her room. Her hands were trembling, she realized, and she exhaled slowly, shakily, listening to the sounds of the morning birds chirp through the open crack of her window as she steadied her breathing. Rubbing away the drying streaks of tears from her cheeks, Dani slowly rose to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, her shoulders stiff.

Her eyes landed on the black dress hanging from the back of her bedroom door, already ironed smooth and looming like a shadow, waiting for her to slip on. Dani exhaled again, longer and a little steadier. Tucking away the loose threads of her dream, the strain simmering beneath her skin. It wouldn’t serve her anything good here, not today. Not when Jamie needed her.

The house was quiet as she went about getting ready for the day. And Dani found herself going through the motions in a slight daze, as though watching snippets of a broken film reel. Making breakfast and tea in a hazy sun streaked kitchen. A hot shower that burned her skin pink. Slipping on the black dress she had bought specifically for today. Putting in smooth waves in her hair and a light dusting of makeup. Her hand dialing a phone number that might as well be etched right up against her ribs, beside her heart.

The phone rang for such an uneasy long time that Dani bit her lip and wondered maybe if Jamie hadn’t even woken yet, when —

“Yeah?” came Jamie’s voice, a singular gruff note.

“Hey, it’s me,” Dani said softly, her free hand restlessly drumming against the kitchen counter, “I’m - I’ve just finished getting ready, and I was wondering - “

“Just getting ready now,” Jamie said, sounding tired and flat. “See you soon, yeah?”

Dani opened her mouth to ask her, to urge her —  ‘How are you? Don’t shut me out. Please talk to me.’ — but she swallowed it down. She nodded, and quickly realizing Jamie couldn’t see her, she said softly, “Yeah. Okay. See you.”

Without another word, the line went dead. Dan stood there for a moment longer, listening to the dial tone and her quiet breaths she fought to keep steady, before finally returning to the receiver to it’s base.

Above her, there were footsteps and the creaking of doors. Dani exhaled and ran a trembling hand across her forehead and through her hair. With another fortifying breath, Dani scaled the stairs and paused on the landing, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as she stared at her mom’s bedroom door, just slightly ajar. There was movement inside, soft thumps against wood and a click of a lighter. With her hands balled into fists, she wandered closer and gently knocked on the door.

“Mom?” she said quietly.

A sigh. “Yes?”

Unease slipped between Dani’s shoulder blades, and she eased the door open. She was promptly hit with the combined smells of sharp chemicals and smoke filtering through the room, repellent and headache inducing. She almost choked on it, hesitating at the threshold of the room where she was greeted with her mom sitting by her vanity, a cigarette tucked between her lips and dousing the roots of her hair with dye.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Karen said, not even bothering to look in Dani’s direction, cigarette bobbing in her mouth.

Dani swallowed thickly. “I thought you were at work?” she said hesitantly.

Her mother shook her head and sighed. “Took the day off,” she said, and didn’t elaborate.

“Well - um,” Dani fumbled, “Well, I’m going now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

Karen grunted in response, leaning closer in the mirror as she angled her head to get a tricky spot, her gloved hands working in the dye. But when Dani didn’t move or say anything more, her eyes flitted towards Dani’s reflection in the mirror and she squinted.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Dani glanced down at herself. It was a simple dress, cinched at the waist before draping out gently to just below her knees with a high neckline and short sleeves. Judy had referred to it as classically vintage and beautiful, but her mother seemed inclined to disagree with a look of snobbish disdain.

A swell of shame building within her, feeling her nails dig into her palms, Dani felt her shoulders straighten and her expression harden. “Yes,” she said sharply.

Karen arched a slow, derisive eyebrow. Dani’s stomach tightened, the look seeming to slice through her, but she stood her ground, her hands shaking. All at once, a distant memory came upon her. Nan’s voice from all those years ago echoing through her: “ If you’re going to say something unfortunate, you might as well be loud about it.”  

“I wish y —  “ Dani started, choking on the words.

Her mother’s arms which had been hovering frozen over her head gradually dropped. Leaving the bottle of dye on the towel covering her vanity, Karen lifted a dye stained hand to take a long drag of her cigarette, and slowly exhaled, smoke framing her face. “You wished what, Danielle?” Karen asked, a dangerous sharp edge to her tone.

Her heartbeat loud in her ears, Dani said softly, “I wish you cared.”

Karen’s face slowly fell, and quickly hardened. “You take that tone with me again, and there’ll be no funeral to go to when I’m through with you,” she said around a plume of smoke.

Dani said nothing, smothering down a flare of belligerence threatening to burst from her, struggling to smooth away an indignant scowl. But feeling her courage slip away from her nonetheless, Dani nodded. “See you later,” she mumbled.

But when she started to retreat back downstairs, her mother said, “You won’t.” Dani blinked at her with a questioning frown. “I won’t be home until late. I have a date with — “

“I don’t want to know - ” Dani rushed out, “- about that.”

Karen’s eyes hardened once again, but before she could say anything more, Dani ducked her eyes and made a swift exit.

The burn of indignation fizzled quickly, leaving only weariness that seemed to pull at her seams. She tamped it down as she always did, tucking it away that not even the O’Mara’s seemed to cotton onto it as they drove towards the railway cottage. Still, it didn’t stop Eddie from clutching her hand in a firm grip, or Judy from glancing back every so often through the rearview mirror with a faint measure of concern.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right to drive that truck?” Judy asked, her hands nervously tapping at the steering wheel.

Even as Dani nodded, Mike twisted around in the passenger seat with a gentle grin and said, “There’s still plenty of time to get the second car.”

“I can even hold Mikey,” Carson offered from beside her, giving Dani a brief grin that belied the red that already imbued his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Dani assured.

Eddie squeezed her hand. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

Dani nodded. “It’s fine.”

But even as she said so, a coil formed in her stomach. Her hand drifted towards her mouth, and when she realized when she was doing, she quickly yanked it down to clench into a fist in her lap, hidden in the folds of her dress.

Judy waited by the curb when she dropped Dani off, the car rumbling as it idled. Dani fidgeted with fingers as she waited for Jamie to answer her knock, nails picking at her skin. When she heard footsteps, Dani straightened upright and inhaled a fortifying breath. The door swung open and she was greeted with Jamie in a simple black dress and her hair pinned back, appearing almost elegant if it weren’t for the dark circles under stony eyes and blank expression.

Dani swallowed hard, and offered Jamie a flickering smile. “Hey.”

Jamie only nodded in response, a short jerk of her head, barely meeting Dani’s eyes. “Just having tea,” she murmured, and retreated inside without even sparing a glance to the car idling by the curb.

Dani bit her lip and glanced behind her to give the O’Mara’s a furtive reassuring wave before following Jamie inside, closing the door behind her. It was quiet inside, save for Mikey’s mumbling chatter and Jamie’s soft responses. She only seemed to ever respond to Mikey since it happened, which was more than enough for Dani, just as long as she knew Jamie was still altogether here, still present in some way. She followed the sounds in the kitchen where Jamie was quietly making a brew while Mikey puttered around by her feet, clutching at the hem of Jamie’s dress, already wearing his dress pants and shirt.

When he caught sight of Dani, his eyes lit up and he rushed towards her. “Dani, Dani, Dani.”

“Hey, sweet thing,” she murmured, feeling her heart swell as she scooped him up in her arms and kissed his cheek. “How are you?”

“Tired,” he said with a great big sigh, leaning his head against her shoulder. “Want Nana.”

Jamie went still by the counter. Frozen as though captured in stone. And then she was moving again, slowly turning the teapot in it’s spot. Dani watched her carefully, feeling her chest ache.

“Where’s Nana?” Mikey whined into her shoulder.

“We’re going to go see her,” Dani said softly, looking away from the taut lines in Jamie’s back and shoulders to give Mikey her full attention. “We’re going to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“Yeah, buddy.”

Mikey lifted his head to give her a confused pout. “Why?”

Dani swallowed thickly. “You know why,” she said softly, “We talked about this, remember?”

He shook his head, pouting some more. “Want Nana,” he repeated in a louder tone that bordered on a whine.

The teapot set heavily against the table with a firm thud. “That’s enough,” Jamie said, her voice clipped, expression wooden. “You gonna finish eating or not?”

At the promise of food, his looming tantrum briefly forgotten, Mikey reached for Jamie with stretched out arms. When Dani handed him to her, the pair slumped heavily in a chair at the kitchen table with Mikey in Jamie’s lap. Dani joined them in an adjacent seat, smiling weakly as Mikey promptly dug into a bowl of dry cereal that was already waiting for him. Jamie sighed, and reached for the teapot, but Dani was quick to jump in.

“I’ll get that,” Dani said, waving Jamie away, “You relax.”

Though Jamie didn’t argue, Dani could feel her eyes boring into the side of her face as Dani poured them their tea, but when Dani looked up, Jamie blinked and her eyes drifted away without a word.

The kitchen was quiet save for the crunch of cereal as Mikey ate and the quiet clink of porcelain as she and Jamie made their tea. The pouring of milk, the spoonfuls of sugar. Jamie went through the motions as though on autopilot, her movement stilted. Struck with the urge to just do something, to feel the warmth of Jamie’s skin again, Dani slowly reached out and grasped the top of Jamie’s hand. Jamie slowly went still as Dani stroked her knuckles, feeling the grooves of her skin. Visibly swallowing heavily, the muscles of Jamie’s jaw jumped, and slowly, without looking up, she slipped her hand out of Dani’s grasp.

Feeling her stomach coil tight, Dani pulled her hand back to ball into a fist in her lap. Clearing her throat, Jamie took a sip of her tea and promptly set it back on the table when it was evidently still too hot to drink.

Leaning forward from where he was reclining against Jamie, Mikey said, “Tea hot?”

“Yeah, love,” Jamie said quietly, “Don’t touch.”

“Blow on it for Jamie?”

And before either of them could do anything, they both watched in silent horror as Mikey leaned closer and blew into Jamie’s tea, inadvertently spitting half chewed cereal into Jamie’s cup with tiny plops, drops of tea splattering out.

Jamie blinked down at her tea, blank and exhausted in equal measure. “Thanks, mate,” she said, and lifted the cup to take a sip.

With an exasperated sigh and roll of her eyes, Dani rose to her feet and took the cup from Jamie’s hand to drain the ruined tea down the sink. Stiffly reclining back in her chair, keeping Mikey balanced in her lap as he ate, Jamie didn’t say a word. A week ago Jamie would have grumbled, a week ago Nan would have snorted with a sharp remark, and like clockwork, Jamie would bite back. A week ago, this kitchen was filled with chatter and bickering that ended with a pot of tea and a tin of cookies on the table as a flag of truce. The memories of it so fresh, that Dani could almost hear the echoes of it like ghosts in the silence.

And Jamie remained quiet through it all. Throughout Dani pouring her another cup of tea, to quietly eating breakfast, to tying on Mikey’s shoes, to Dani grabbing the truck keys from her hand when they finally shuffled out the door. Jamie didn’t protest. The truck felt clunky in Dani’s hands, larger than what Dani was used to handling. Of all the times Dani’s been in this truck, it had always been either Nan or Jamie driving. Sitting in the driver's seat now felt like being split into a mirror universe, the perspectives all wrong. But Dani kept them steady on the road, keeping the volume of the radio on low until it was only just white noise to accompany them.

The morning sun rays stretched through the windows and across the cabin, backlighting Jamie’s hair in russet tones that ruffled gently in the warm breeze of the open window. Dani couldn’t help casting furtive glances at her as she drove, the corner of her mouth curling at Mikey wrapped in her arms, the slant of Jamie’s profile sharp and outlined in golden light as she leaned her head back against the headrest, watching passing landmarks. Dani’s knuckles went white against the steering wheel, wanting to reach over and link their fingers, but smothered down the urge.

The church loomed ahead, gray brick and slanted roof. Dani had never frequented it before for all the times she’s passed by, belonging to a different denomination than what she grew up in. When she parked the truck and switched off the engine, Dani spotted both Carson and Eddie waiting outside the front double doors, leaning against the brick but standing at attention when they caught sight of the truck. Jamie sat upright and went stiff.

“Ready?” Dani murmured.  

Staring intently out the windscreen, jaw taut, Jamie’s throat bobbed. “Give us a minute?” she muttered.

Pressing her mouth into a thin line, Dani nodded and slipped out the truck, shutting the door firmly. Peering inside the truck for a moment, Jamie’s image through the dusty window was shadowed and blurred as though she were underwater, her hand running over Mikey’s back in soothing patterns as she murmured softly to him. Swallowing thickly, Dani sharply turned away and started towards the boys, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“Is she okay?” Eddie asked in lieu of greeting, his hands shoved deep into his suit pockets, wearing a concerned frown.

Dani nodded, then shook her head, biting her lip. Eddie sighed while beside him, Carson remained silent, anxiously watching the truck with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. Before any of them could say anything more, the truck door audibly swung open and Jamie stepped out with Mikey, heading towards them.

“Just - “ Dani said quietly “ - Give her some space?”

They both nodded silently, but even so, Jamie marched right past them without a word to delve inside the church. The three of them exchanged anxious somber looks, before silently following Jamie inside in a slow procession. It was cooler inside, the air still. The atrium was vast, the ceiling towering above her in exposed arched beams, the room seeming to echo with every footstep. Tall windows letting in slants of watery light across the walls and marble floors.

And framing the double doors leading into the main hall were stands of bouquets and two portraits of Nan. A black and white portrait of her in her youth, strikingly beautiful in a way that she could’ve been mistaken for a film star, regardless for the stern square of her jaw. And another as she was before she died, one Dani vividly remembered taking during Jamie’s sixteenth birthday just a few weeks ago. An ache spread across her chest, and she had to look away. She landed on the three figures standing in the threshold of the main hall, Mike standing beside Judy as she talked in low tones to Jamie who stood stiff and wooden as they faced the interior.

Dani slowly neared them as though nearing a cornered animal. Judy pressed a hand to the back of Jamie’s shoulder, and Jamie quietly nodded. And though her back was facing Dani, she could imagine Jamie not fully absorbing Judy’s words if her look of anxious concern was any indication. When Dani stepped beside them, Judy gave her a flickering smile.

“There you are, sweetheart,” Judy murmured. “I was just telling Jamie that we’re going to go say our goodbyes now, and then service starts soon.”

Dani nodded. There were more soft words, more assurances, but she didn’t hear them, her eyes glued to Jamie’s profile. To the same eerily blank expression she wore while watching the sunset all those days ago, staring down the long stretch of red aisle to the apse where a mahogany casket rested. Jamie stood rigid and unblinking, as though she might bolt in the opposite direction with Mikey in tow at any sudden movement.

Inhaling a slow breath, feeling her heart thump against her ribs, Dani gave Judy what she hoped was a reassuring smile and said, “We’ll be right behind you.”

Judy stared at her for a long moment, eyes glistening, and briefly cupped Dani’s cheek. “Brave girl,” she whispered, and then linked her arm with Mike’s, making their way down the aisle.

Carson and Eddie quietly followed. Carson’s head was bowed as he rushed to Judy’s side, and Eddie offered Dani a weak grin over his shoulder that belied the somber concern in his eyes. He lightly grasped her hand for a moment, before ducking his head and following after the others, his hands deep in his pockets.

Beside her, Jamie remained still. “Jamie?” she murmured.

Jamie visibly swallowed hard, her throat working. She shook her head. A minute movement that Dani wouldn’t have noticed if she weren’t looking so intently. Even Mikey seemed still, cottoning on to Jamie’s emotions, his head ducked into her shoulder. Dani’s eyes darted down to Jamie’s free hand, balled into a white knuckled fist. Sucking in low breath, Dani slowly reached out and grasped her hand, carefully unfurling her fist to link their fingers. When Jamie’s hand remained limp, Dani expected her to pull away. To slip out of Dani’s hold and march off. But slowly, surely, Jamie’s hand tightened in her own.

Expelling a trembling exhale, both relieved and uneasy in equal measure, Dani squeezed her hand and began guiding her down the aisle. The row of pews seemed endless as they passed, the breadth of the apse expanding before them in more arches and exposed beams of dark wood. And the closer they neared, the harder Jamie’s hand gripped her own until Dani could almost feel the grind of bone and tendon.

The casket was open, framed by more bouquets of what Dani recognized were Nan’s favorite flowers. Distantly, Dani wondered if there were so many of them in order to mask the smell of death. Dani’s only seen a dead body once. Eight years old and standing at a cliff’s edge in the howling winds with nothing to hold onto, with no one to hold onto her. But Jamie’s hand was in hers this time, and she could only hope it was enough. Enough to tether each other away from the yawning gulf of grief threatening to swallow them whole. But just as soon as she caught sight of just an inch of the body that lay within the casket, she was pulled to a stop by Jamie’s hand.

“I - “ Jamie started, her voice cracked, eyes unblinking.

Dani stepped closer and murmured, “It’s okay. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She could feel eyes on them, could hear the faint echoes of sniffles and choked tears, but they all faded in the distance as she watched Jamie, running a soothing thumb over Jamie’s rough knuckles. Jamie’s jaw squared and she lightly shook her head, continuing towards the casket.

For a woman of her age, Nan had never sat still, not as she was now. Hands folded over her stomach and dressed in her best, wearing a light adornment of her favorite jewelry. Her face layered with thick makeup that did nothing to mask the ashen paleness of her skin. There was something off about her, something that seemed to pull uncomfortably at Dani’s skin. It took her a long moment to realize what it was — Nan wasn’t wearing her glasses.

Mikey shifted in Jamie’s arms, leaning close. “Nana sleeping?”

Jamie remained silent, her hand trembling in Dani’s, staring unblinking at Nan with a blank expression.

“She does, doesn’t she, bud,” Dani murmured, “People say that sometimes. That they look like they’re sleeping.”

“She doesn’t look like she’s sleeping,” Jamie said, her tone flat and low, “She looks dead.”

Feeling something tighten in her chest, Dani went silent, not knowing what else to say but to nod faintly and stroke her thumb over Jamie’s knuckles.

Jamie shifted Mikey in her arm, no doubt getting tired from holding him for so long. “Remember what I told you,” Jamie said to him quietly, “Say your goodbyes now.”

“Bye-bye,” Mikey said with a small wave, and wiggled slightly, “Kiss?”

Sighing, Jamie muttered, “Fine.”

When Jamie finally pulled her hand from Dani’s to hold Mikey properly, Dani’s hand dangled uselessly and empty by her side. Not knowing what else to do with them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and watched as Jamie helped Mikey lean over the casket to press a light kiss to Nan’s forehead.

“Love you,” Mikey said, “See you later.”

Jamie exhaled, but didn’t correct him. “You done?” Jamie asked between her clenched teeth, staring fixedly at a bright bouquet.

Realizing Jamie directed the question towards her, Dani startled slightly and nodded. Without a word, Jamie turned on the spot and stood there, as though waiting for Dani to follow. Sparing Nan another look, letting her eyes sweep over her one last time, Dani inhaled a slow breath and nodded to herself. ‘ Bye,’  she mouthed, and turned to follow Jamie towards the pews.

Judy and Mike were already standing to greet them. “Are you sure you don’t want us to hold him, honey?” Judy asked gently, “We wouldn’t mind, truly.”

“It’s fine,” Jamie said in a flat tone, her grip on Mikey tightening almost imperceptibly. Mikey meanwhile had an arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders, and was looking around the church with wide-eyed wonder.

“Can I carry him?” Dani cautioned to offer, giving Jamie a weak smile when her eyes flitted sharply to Dani’s.

Jamie clenched her teeth, tendons like ropes standing out against her jaw. “Service starts soon,” she muttered.

“Exactly,” Dani said softly, slowly reaching up to grasp Mikey’s hand.

In the end, it took a minute of gentle coaxing for Jamie to let Mike lift Mikey from her arms that had begun to tremble from the weight of holding him so long. Mike uttered a soft quip about the Michaels sticking together that fell on deaf ears, Jamie’s fists clenching and unclenching with a wooden expression as she watched Mikey settle comfortably against Mike’s shoulder. Dani let her stare for only a few seconds longer before lightly grasping her wrist and guiding her to sit, letting the O’Mara’s coo over Mikey.

Jamie remained rigid, until she wasn’t. Her knee jumped restlessly as they waited for the service to start. Chatter and murmurs echoing through the church like whispers until it all seemed to blend together. And when a priest in white vestments rose to the altar, the sound seemed to drown away until all that was left was an eerie silence.

With only the memories of her eight year old self to go by, Dani had nothing to compare the service to. It was simple, and for lack of better terms, she could almost say pleasant. The priest had a warm voice as he spoke in sure, deft tones. Reciting Bible passages and leading them through prayers and hymns. At one point the priest made an open-handed gesture towards Jamie and asked if she wanted to say a few words. Jamie physically recoiled, as if trying to sink into the pew and disappear. Dani answered for her with a wide-eyed shake of her head. Mercifully, he simply nodded in understanding and continued on with the ceremony.

Jamie fidgeted through the whole thing. At one point, Dani discreetly put her hand on Jamie’s knee, palm up like an offering, and Jamie immediately squeezed it without even glancing over. Her grip crushed Dani’s fingers until she could barely feel behind her knuckles, but not once did Dani try to extricate her hand. She kept stealing glances at Jamie’s profile, but Jamie stared fixedly at a spot on the floor. Somewhere beneath the bouquet with a picture frame bearing Nan’s image, but nowhere near the casket.

Jamie was wedged between Dani and the end of the pew. Every time Dani tried to scoot over and give her some space, Jamie would squeeze her hand tighter until her whole forearm trembled. With a wince, Dani would shuffle back a little closer, their legs pressed together, Jamie's ankle nervously knocking against Dani's calf in a jerky rhythmic pattern. On Dani's other side, Judy kept needing to dig through her purse for another tissue with which to wipe her eyes. Her mascara was ruined, and Dani could not help but wonder why she had bothered putting on makeup at all.

Dani's own eyes remained dry, but for the great yawning grief in her chest that felt like it was gnawing at her ribs from within. She had done enough crying the night before. Her pillow had still been damp when she had woken up shaking from her dream that morning, and she'd had to wash her face before getting dressed. On Judy's other side, Mike was solemn and quiet. Eddie was shell-shocked and baffled. And Carson was a sniffling wreck. Mike kept on having to ferry tissues from his wife to his youngest son as he balanced Mikey in his lap.

And then it was over. Even as they stood and trudged single-file down the aisle, Dani struggled to remember a single word that the priest had said. Familiar platitudes. Kindnesses to soothe the rawness that threatened to burn a path up her throat and spill out like a many-legged thing. Jamie hadn't let go of Dani's hand, and sharp tendons stood out on her jaw. They walked towards a room that branched off near the exit — already arrayed with coffee in styrofoam cups and platters of flavorless sandwiches — and Dani squeezed Jamie's hand back. Expression blank, Jamie blinked at her in silent question.

Dani opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her tongue. Finally she managed to say, "Do you want some food?"

Before Jamie could answer, Judy had placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder and was pulling her in for a hug. Jamie let go of Dani and went absolutely rigid beneath the attention. Even after Judy had pulled away, Jamie remained tense, as though ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"You did so well, honey," Judy said. "So, so well. You're so strong."

Clearing her throat, Jamie shrugged Judy's hands away. "I need to find the loo."

And with that she darted away, shoulders hunched. Judy turned to Dani and said, "Would you follow her and go make sure she's all right?"

What am I supposed to do? Dani thought to herself, but she only nodded. When she looked around, she frowned. In the few seconds that she had been looking away, Jamie had slipped out of the room unseen. Eddie was making his mother a cup of coffee and bringing it over to press it into her hands, while Mike spoke softly to Carson in the corner, angling his body so that Carson was hidden from sight and given some measure of privacy for a moment.

So few others had shown up to the funeral that the large room, meant to fit a hundred, seemed empty. Venturing out into the hall and walking slowly along, Dani felt like a doll that had escaped its house and now wandered around a giant’s labyrinth in search of exits. The priest had moved into the reception room to talk with Judy and the others. Dani paused. The main aisle of the church extended before her, a long length of red cloth running out from her feet towards the casket on the far end of the apse.

She was eight years old again and terrified. Terrified of loss. Terrified of loneliness. If she willed it hard enough, maybe the body in the casket would sit up, swing its legs free, and laugh. It was all a joke, it would say. It was all just a big misunderstanding. It was time to go home.

Hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides, Dani turned and marched away. “Jamie?” she called out, not loud but determined.

Rounding a corner, Dani found a hall full of doors. The first was clearly labelled as a bathroom. A quick venture inside soon proved that Jamie was not there. On her way back out, Dani avoided looking at the mirror. In her black dress and her makeup and her coiffed hair, she looked wrong.

She poked her head into the next door down the hall. “Jamie?”

The dark room answered her with silence. The wood-panelling was darkly stained. All of the furniture was covered in white sheets, untouched and wan in the dim light from the doorway in which she stood. Just as Dani was about to leave and go searching elsewhere however, there was a creak. She froze and slowly turned back around.

Something was moving on the other side of the room. Gripping the door handle tight, Dani squinted through the gloom, trying to make out the shape. Then abruptly it rose to its feet.

“Jesus,”  Dani gasped as Jamie straightened, blinking over at her.

“Get lost looking for the bathroom, did you?” Jamie asked.

Dani shook her head. “No. I was looking for you. Where did you go?”

With a shrug, Jamie made her way across the room. “Here,” she said. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her black jacket.

“For a smoke?”

“Just wanted to be alone.”

“Oh,” Dani said. And just like that she felt like an intruder. Hunting Jamie down. Blocking the doorway. Dani took a tentative step back. “Do you want me to go?”

Jamie gave her one of those oddly blank looks, her expression unreadable. “Did Judy ask you to come get me? Think I was going to pull a runner?”

“No,” said Dani. “Well, I mean, yes. She asked me to find you, but –”

Jamie snorted and gave an exasperated shake of her head, glancing away.

“But I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” Dani finished lamely.

“All right?” Jamie repeated dully.

“You know what I mean.”

For as long as Dani had known her, Jamie had a wild streak. A rough edge. Like trailing her fingertips across a ragged burr. She could always rely on Jamie being just slightly unreliable. On the wrong side of predictability. Usually this resulted in spontaneity. Going on long car rides to chase storms. Sneaking out at night to watch movies. Lifting packs of cigarettes from the twins and smoking them on the old train tracks.

Looking at Jamie now however, felt like watching the first few sparks on the precipice of a wildfire. She was a thing ready to be snatched up by an errant breeze. As though she might lash out of her own skin, teeth bared, at any wayward attempt to draw too near.

“You should eat something,” Dani said.

“I had breakfast.”

“I saw you throw most of it out.”

“You don’t need to babysit me. I’m –”

“–Fine?” Dani supplied for her when Jamie couldn’t choke out the word herself. “Were you going to say you’re ‘fine’?”

“Coping,”  Jamie growled.

As she said it, she shifted her weight and Dani heard a strange clinking. Like glass. Or perhaps like coins dropping together. There was a muscle that leapt in Jamie’s jaw, and her eyes hardened. Dani knew that look. Knew it all too well.

“Don’t,” Dani said in a warning tone.

Jamie frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t fight me,” said Dani. “I know that you’re thinking it will feel better to be angry with me for – for being nosy or whatever, but it won’t work. If you want me to go, just tell me to go. But don’t fight me.”

Jamie’s mouth fell open, but Dani didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. Turning on her heel, Dani strode out of the room and back down the hall. Something red hot and angry burned brief and bright in her own chest, but quickly faded by the time she made it back to the room with all the tables and chairs and food. Flickered and died, so that her hands and lower lip trembled in equal measure, so that she had to clear her throat and straighten her shoulders and wipe briskly at her cheeks before she could step inside.

In one area, Judy was talking with the priest while Eddie lingered at the edge of the conversation. Carson and Mike were sitting against the far wall and entertaining Mikey. The moment Dani re-entered the room, Eddie sloped towards her.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

“What?” Dani said, then, “Oh. Yes. She was in the bathroom.”

Nodding, Eddie tried to give her a commiserating smile. He touched her shoulder softly and gestured towards one of the tables. “The sandwiches aren’t terrible, actually. Can I make you a plate?”

Dani’s stomach felt like it was a rag twisted over itself, squeezing out every last drop, but she nodded and let Eddie guide her over to the table. It was oddly nice, not having to think of everything. Letting Eddie put together a variety of food on a plate and hand it to her. Letting him keep her company and carry the conversation without expecting anything of her. They were still eating and murmuring in low tones when Dani saw someone at the corner of her vision.

Jamie slipped through the door. Somewhere along the way, she had procured for herself a cup. When Judy closed in on her, Jamie took a large sip of whatever the cup contained, as though bracing herself for impact.

“So, uh –” Eddie said beside her, drawing Dani’s attention back. “What’s going to happen?”

Mouth still full of a bite of sandwich, Dani chewed and swallowed before replying, “What do you mean?”

“Well. You know. With –” He gestured towards Jamie and then towards his own father, who was playing a shell game with Mikey that involved a piece of candy and three empty styrofoam cups.

It took a moment for Dani to realize exactly what he was talking about. She stared at Eddie, then shot a nervous glance towards Mikey. “I don’t know.”

“She still has family, right? Back in – where was it again? Burnley? Are they going to come over or -?” he trailed off, uncertain.

“I don’t know,” Dani repeated, faintly this time.

On the other side of the room, Jamie was draining what remained in her cup. When Judy appeared preoccupied with calling over the priest for further discussion, Dani saw Jamie quickly refill her cup with something in her pocket that glinted like metal or maybe glass. A can of pop, perhaps. Before she could dwell on it further, Eddie was talking again.

“They can come live with us, I guess,” he said, sounding far more confident than he had any right to be. “Tommy and David are at college, so we have the space now. Do you think she’d want to? Hang on. Let’s go ask dad.”

“Eddie –”

But he was already walking over to his father and Carson. Fiddling with the now empty paper plate, Dani chewed at her lower lip and watched as Eddie spoke with his dad. Mike’s expression was thoughtful yet guarded. He replied in a voice that was too low for Dani to overhear. Feeling vaguely ill, she set down her empty plate on one of the tables and glanced away.

Dani didn’t remember wakes lasting this long. Especially with this few people in attendance. Even so, every last person seemed to want to shake Jamie’s hand and express their condolences. From afar Dani watched as Jamie gripped their hands, scowled, and took a sip from her seemingly never-ending cup in lieu of responding in any way.

There were little printed pamphlets at the entrances and the corners of tables, each of them bearing the same picture of Nan with her name written in loopy typeface and the dates: 1907-1978. At one point, Dani tried to read its contents, the brief history of Ruth Heron’s life condensed down into a paragraph, but had to clear her throat and fold the page up hastily. It didn’t matter that she’d been born in rural West Lothian. It didn’t matter that she’d had a brother who'd died in Clydebank in 1941. It didn’t matter that she had a daughter in Lancashire who didn’t make it to the funeral. Ruth was gone and Dani couldn’t bring herself to look at her picture again.

“Oh, honey, are you all right?”

Dani glanced up. On the other side of the room Judy had a hand on Jamie’s arm to steady her, and Jamie was brushing her off even as she straightened.

“M’Fine,” Jamie muttered. “Just gonna get some food.”

Judy let her go with a worried expression. Meanwhile, Jamie wandered across the room, steps slightly uneven, until she stopped at the same table where Dani stood. Rather than reach for any food however, she simply gripped the edge of the table as if trying to stop herself from staggering outright.

“Are you –” Dani sidled closer and asked in a whisper, “– drunk?”

Jamie blinked blearily at her but did not respond. She lifted the cup back to her lips, already turning away to slip off somewhere again.

“Okay,” Dani said gently and took the cup. “All right. Let’s go.”

“What?” Jamie asked with a puzzled furrow in her brow.

With a hand on Jamie’s elbow, Dani steered her towards the exit. On the way past Mike and the boys, she paused momentarily to explain that she was going to take Jamie home and that they would see her tomorrow. Mike nodded and did not ask any questions. Eddie on the other hand made to stand, but Carson grabbed hold of his sleeve and tugged him back down into the seat beside him.

“Let ‘em go, Eddie.”

“But –”

“We’ll see them tomorrow,” Carson said, and he gave Dani a shaky smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Right?”

Hand tightening around the curve of Jamie’s elbow, Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

It didn’t take much urging to get Jamie out of the church and into the parking lot. She kept a steady hand on Jamie as they went, drifting from Jamie’s elbow to the small of her back and resting lightly there. In the truck, Jamie pulled a small crystal decanter from its hiding place in her jacket and unstoppered it. How she had managed to keep it hidden without anyone noticing was nothing short of a miracle. Most of its contents had already been finished, but Jamie tipped back her head and downed what remained of the amber liquid.

“Communion wine?” Dani asked, starting the truck and pulling away from the curb.

“Nah,” said Jamie. “This one was brandy, I think.”

She tried stoppering the decanter, but it took her a few tries to get the pieces together in the moving vehicle. Her face screwed up in concentration until she finally managed it and set the decanter on the floor by her feet.

“Couldn’t have shared?”

For some reason Jamie thought that was funny, for she laughed. “Thought you didn’t like getting drunk.”

Dani shrugged and pulled on the indicator before turning down another street. “I don’t. But I like feeling this way even less.”

“Bet your mum has some good stuff at your place.”

With a hum of agreement, Dani said, “She does. And she marks it all on the bottles.”

“Fucking hell,” Jamie muttered. She shut her eyes and let her head sink back against the headrest. “How can she be that paranoid? It’s you we’re talking about. Little Miss Perfect.”

White noise of the pavement beneath the tires. Dani fumbled with the gear stick, accidentally grinding the engine into third with a wince.

“I’m not,” she said after a long pause.

“Mmm?”

“I’m not perfect.”

“Y’are,” Jamie said, her accent thicker, her words gliding together.

Dani darted a glance towards her, but Jamie’s eyes were still closed, her head still tilted back. She looked on the verge of sleep until she let her head loll to the side so she could stare out the passenger window. Gripping the steering wheel tight, Dani drove them home.

When they pulled up to the house, Dani breathed a sigh of relief to find that her mother’s car was gone. Killing the engine, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the truck. Back at the church, Jamie had seemed steady enough on her feet, but now she had to cling to the truck door to remain upright when she staggered out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. Quickly, Dani darted around the truck, half expecting Jamie to shrug off her help. Instead, Jamie leaned into her, placing a hand at the dip of Dani’s waist and curling her fingers against the black fabric of her dress as if that was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Come on,” Dani murmured, shutting the door and leading Jamie up the walkway to the front door. “Let’s get you some water.”

It took some fumbling to get the door open — two sets of keys in one hand and keeping hold of Jamie with the other — but then they were spilling inside.

With only some minor grumbling under her breath, Jamie let Dani lean her against one of the side tables to help with her ankle boots. Dani didn’t care to watch where they landed as she tossed them aside, preoccupied with keeping Jamie upright when she swayed off balance.

“Stay here, okay?” Dani said when she was sure Jamie wasn’t able to keel over, peeling off her own shoes.

Jamie snorted. “Where else am I going to go?”

With a soft sigh, Dani retreated into the kitchen to fill a large glass with water and was quick to return to Jamie’s side. Dani slowed as she approached her, carefully eyeing Jamie’s white knuckles against the table she gripped behind her and rigid shoulders. It took Dani a moment to realize Jamie was staring at something, across the room on the other side of the door where the gardenias sat, drooping and wilted and forgotten.

Swallowing thickly, Dani grasped her wrist. “Hey,” she murmured, and waited until Jamie’s eyes darted to hers to hold up the glass. “Drink. All of it.”

Jamie blinked blearily at her, and without a word she took the glass and gradually emptied it in slow gulps.

The hard part came with guiding Jamie up the stairs. With her arm around Jamie’s waist, they managed for the most part, only nearly stumbling once or twice to Jamie’s muttered stream of cursing.

“It’s okay,” Dani said after nearly stumbling again, “Not my first rodeo, believe it or not.”

“I believe it,” Jamie muttered darkly.

When they finally made it to Dani’s room, she left Jamie resting against her cramped writing desk. Jamie sighed, gripping the wooden edge. “Can’t I just - “ she gestured to Dani’s bed, but didn’t elaborate.

“You’ll be comfier if you change out of that dress first,” Dani said. Jamie aimed another blank look at her, exhaustion coloring her heavy eyes. Dani gave her a soft flickering smile and turned to dig into the drawers of her dresser for clothes. “I still have your Blondie t-shirt somewhere from the last time I was at your place, but I think it’s in the wash.”

Locating a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she turned to hand them to Jamie but froze at what greeted her. Jamie had turned to face her desk, shoulders strained and head bowed, and looking directly down at the piles of photos Dani had left there. The rolls Dani had recently gotten developed at the pharmacy of Jamie’s track conference, and a collection spanning years that featured Nan, where Dani had spent the week sifting through with tear stained cheeks for the perfect photo for the funeral.

“Shit,” Dani said under her breath, swallowing thickly, her eyes unmoving from the rigid lines of Jamie’s back.

Leaving the clothes on the dresser, Dani slowly inched closer as though any sudden movement would spark a trigger of wildfire. But as Dani drew nearer, a hand carefully outstretched, dread pooled in her stomach. Jamie was shaking. Holding herself coiled taut like a spring as if that could contain the tremors running along her skin. Her heart in her throat, Dani glanced down to her desk, casting her eyes across the photos of Jamie and Nan, scattered across her desk like shattered remains of porcelain, or —

A choking sound erupted from Jamie. Her breath caught in her chest, Dani stepped closer, hovering her hand over Jamie’s trembling back. “Jamie?” she said, her voice wavering with worry, ducking her head to see Jamie’s face. “Look at me.”

Teeth clenched and chin trembling, Jamie didn’t respond. “Hey,” Dani breathed, raising a hand to cup the side of her face and gently turn her to face Dani. Head ducked, eyebrows cinched and turned down, Jamie expelled a trembling exhale, a tear falling from her eye to the carpet.

Dani brought up her other hand to frame Jamie’s face trembling from the effort not to cry. “It’s okay,” she breathed, stepping closer, her voice cracking, “It’s okay.”

Jamie’s face crumbled. Tears slipping from her eyes, Jamie let out a gasping sob. “It’s okay,” Dani repeated, and pulled Jamie close, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as Jamie collapsed against her, burying her face in the crook of Dani’s neck, sobs erupting from her.

Jamie shook in her arms, her hands gripping Dani close as though she was the only thing keeping from shattering into pieces, but Jamie’s knees were buckling beneath her. Carefully, Dani maneuvered them to the bed, keeping a tight hold on Jamie and bearing most of her weight.

“Here,” Dani murmured shakily, guiding Jamie to lie next to her. With stuttering breaths, her red eyes bright with tears and her skin splotchy, Jamie buried her face back into Dani’s shoulder as Dani wrapped her arms around her, and breathed, “I’ve got you.”

There was nothing more Dani could do but to hold her. To helplessly grip her tight and wish away the pain as Jamie’s body shook with violent choked sobs, grief-stricken and anguished, the sound gripping Dani’s heart into a painful vice. A thick lump appeared in Dani’s throat, her hands trembling, her eyes burning.

“Fucking bitch,” Jamie choked out, gasping for breath in between sobs.

“I know,” Dani said, her fingers digging into Jamie’s dress.

“I hate her.”

“I know,” Dani repeated, her voice cracking.

She had thought there was nothing left. Dried of her well of tears. Hollowed out by nights of falling asleep with tears stained cheeks. But Jamie shaking in her arms, Jamie breaking open from days and years of repressed misery and heartbreak pulled something from her that Dani didn’t even know was there. She inhaled a stuttering breath and pressed her cheek against Jamie’s hair, raising a hand to tangle into her dark curls.

Dani didn’t know how long they stayed there, holding each other tight against the tides of grief until it hurt, sobs gradually easing into stuttering gasps, legs tangled together. With Jamie’s comforting weight settled atop her, slowly coming back to herself and feeling less like the walls were crashing atop them, Dani ran a soothing hand through Jamie’s hair, letting her nails scratch gently against her scalp. Her breath slowed with the occasional hitching gasp, Jamie made a soft noise and exhaled a slow shaking breath, her shoulders slumping under Dani’s arms.  

Her eyes slipping shut from exhaustion and the feeling of Jamie’s warm breath against her skin, Dani turned her head just enough to press a soft kiss to Jamie’s forehead and willed her to sleep, willed the pain away for just a moment, for just a few hours. And Dani would hold her, for as long as she needed, as long as she wanted.

Dani could fix this. If only for just a moment.

--

Dani knocked insistently at the rail cottage’s door for what felt like two minutes until it was finally yanked open from the other side.

“Hi,” she said, waving cheerily with a smile so broad it made her cheeks ache.

Dishevelled in a baggy shirt and sweatpants, bare feet and dark rings like bruises beneath her eyes, Jamie stood there. “Could you have knocked any louder?” she muttered. “Fuck’s sake.”

Trying to keep her smile in place when she felt it falter, Dani followed Jamie inside. “Sorry. It’s just that last time you were asleep.”

Jamie was already striding towards the kitchen, leaving Dani to close the front door behind her. “Yeah, well, this time the kid’s asleep and I’m juggling ten different pots on the stove.”

There were, Dani discovered not a moment later, only two pots on the stove. Both were bubbling, one with a small handful of pasta sticking out like a sheaf of wheat. Jamie went immediately to attend them, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring as though her life depended on it.

Chewing at her lower lip, Dani cast a surreptitious glance around the place. In Nan’s absence over the summer, the house had fallen upon hard times. It was dusty. There were piles of laundry atop the living room couch and dirty dishes arcing from the sink like a crown. None of the lights were on apart from the lonely kitchen pendant dangling overhead like a sword by a thread. She could feel something stick to the bottom of her feet when she walked over to the dining table and sat amongst empty boxes and old cups of tea. She started to push things aside to clear a small space, but paused when she began shuffling papers into a pile.

Legal documents full of jargon she barely understood and embossed with fancy titles. Trusts. Bank accounts. Numbers with zeros at the end, but not enough. Never enough. Letters with flourished signatures and foreign seals.

Clearing her throat, Dani set them all aside and pulled out a few papers from her school bag.

“I brought your homework,” Dani said and she neatly squared the pages atop the table beside the other documents.

Without turning around from the stove, Jamie grunted. “Thanks.”

For a long moment, silence reigned. Then Dani stood and crossed over to the sink, rolling up the sleeves of her pink sweater as she went. When she flipped open the tap and began doing the dishes, Jamie scowled.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jamie said, gripping the wooden spoon in a white-knuckled fist.

“I want to,” Dani replied firmly.

She could feel Jamie’s gaze digging into her back like an awl, but she did not turn around, resolutely reaching for the sponge and setting herself to task. She did not need to look to know that Jamie’s shoulders would be tense, that she would be holding herself as though to ward off an incoming blow, that her eyes would be hard and stormy, and her jaw tight. Instead, Dani worked methodically through the dishes, stacking up clean plates and cutlery on one side of the countertop, cold soapy water leaving suds all the way up her forearms.

Eventually, Dani braved the silence. “There’s that report due on Friday,” she said. “You know  Ulysses? It’s on that one.”

Jamie hummed a wordless note of affirmation.

“Have you read it?” Dani asked. She had to use a bit of steel wool to scrape gunk that had been caked onto the bottom of a pot.

“Nope,” Jamie said. “Read the one it’s based on, though. Bloody depressing.”

“They’re quite different.”

“So?”

“So,” Dani set aside the pot and reached for another. “I mean – if you want, I can work on the report with you. Maybe I can stay the night, and –”

“Does your mum know you’re here?” Jamie asked abruptly, cutting her off.

“Yes,” Dani lied.

Beside her, Jamie shifted and Dani glanced around to find Jamie watching her with an incredulous expression.

“No,” Dani mumbled, turning back to the sink.

“You can stay for tea, but you should go home after.” Jamie stabbed at one of the pots with the wooden spoon. “Last thing I need is your mum coming round looking for you, and –”

From the other room there came the sound of a distinct burbling wail and they both froze.

“Shit,” Jamie swore under her breath, balancing the spoon across the top of the pot so it wouldn’t boil over.

Already wiping her hands dry with a towel, Dani said, “I’ve got him. Stay.”

She did not wait to listen to Jamie’s feeble counter argument. Slinging the towel over one shoulder, Dani walked briskly from the kitchen. The hall extended darkly before her. There was a weak light at the far end, a door slightly ajar leading to Nan’s old room. Slowly, Dani approached. She paused at the threshold, steeling herself with a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The bedsheets were rumpled as though they had been recently slept in and some of Jamie’s clothes were crumpled in a corner of the room. All of Nan’s things were still here — her jewelry hanging from the corners of a mirror, her spectacles folded atop the bedside table near a glass of water, her clothes gathering dust in the open closet — preserved like a painting or a pharaonic tomb.

Mikey was squirming against his blanket inside a crib at the foot of the bed. There were toys strung over the crib like a chandelier. Dani accidentally bumped her forehead against them when she leaned down to pick him up.

“Hey,” she murmured in as bright a voice as she could manage, smiling broadly. “Hi there. Hey, buddy. Did you have a nice nap?”

Dani’s experience with two year olds was next to nothing outside of this very house. He was a lot larger than even the last time she’d visited. She tried balancing him on her hip and bouncing him gently, but his face remained scrunched up and he cried. So, she moved him up slightly higher, hands linked beneath him so that he sat upright in her arms.

“Jamie’s making dinner. Do you want to see Jamie?” she asked. “Are you hungry?”

He rubbed at his eyes and nodded, his crying fading somewhat. “Yeah.”

“Yes to seeing Jamie? Or yes to being hungry?”

Mikey’s brows knit together and he said again with more emphasis, “ Yeah.”

She laughed softly and kissed the side of his head. “All right. Let’s go. Oof, you’re heavy.”

“I want Nana,” Mikey grumbled.

Starting towards the exit, she cleared her throat and said, “Well, I’m sorry, honey. But Nan’s gone.”

“No,” he insisted. “Nana’s there.”

As he said it, she felt a prickle of unease all the way down to the base of her spine. Mikey was pointing behind her, eyes locked on something inside the room. Something cold traced the back of Dani’s neck. She paused in the doorway, feeling that if she were to turn around Nan would still be sitting up in bed, spectacles perched atop her nose, book in hand. Her skin would be grey beneath the layers of powder applied by the mortician’s hand and her eyes made of hard glass. Apprehensively, Dani glanced over her shoulder and held her breath.

The room was empty. The toys hanging over Mikey’s crib rotated slowly in place as though a lazy hand had given them a push. Light reflected from the plastic pieces like gleaming sunspots against the wall. Telling her racing heart that she was being foolish, Dani quickly left the room.

“Nan’s gone,” she said again more firmly this time, striding down the hallway and back towards the kitchen. “She’s gone.”

“Not gone,” he said.

In the kitchen, Jamie was checking a piece of pasta to see if it was cooking by taking a bite of it, the long spaghetti trailing from her mouth and onto her chin. She looked around when Dani and Mikey came into the room. Steam roiled over the pot of pasta, and the pot full of sauce slowly simmered away.

Jamie stirred at the sauce, chewing as she said, “You promised me two hours, mate. That was not two hours.”

“I’m not tired,” Mikey said, scowling as he continued to rub at his face with his balled up fist.

Jamie snorted. “Well, that’s a damn dirty lie.”

“You almost done?” Dani asked.

“Nearly.” Jamie tapped the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. “Just need another few minutes.”

“That’s okay. Mikey and I can fold laundry while we wait. Can’t we?” The last Dani directed at him, and he nodded.

Jamie’s lips pursed. She frowned at the stack of dishes that Dani had already cleaned and left to dry on a spare towel spread across the bench top.

Before she could protest, Dani carried Mikey out into the living room and set him down on the carpet between the couches. She sat beside him and reached for the first piece of clean laundry that had been unceremoniously dumped atop one of the couches.

“Like this.” Dani demonstrated the folding of a shirt. Then she handed another shirt to him.

He took it and mustered all two years of fine motor skills in an ultimately futile attempt which ended up with a crumpled lump of fabric on the ground. Dani watched this with amusement, taking the shirt back and folding it properly.

“We’ll work on it,” she told him with a smile, handing him the folded shirt. “Can you stack it atop that one for me?”

Mikey grabbed the shirt and dropped it atop the other folded shirt, leaving only a few wrinkles in his wake. They continued on this way, Dani folding clothes and Mikey piling them up – he particularly seemed to enjoy making a pyramid of socks – until he inevitably grew bored and began looking around for something else to occupy him.

“Hey, Mikey,” she said. “Do you wanna help me sort these? They should go by color.”

When she pushed a basket full of clothesline pegs towards him, Mikey immediately reached for the colorful array. Dani continued folding as he jumbled the clothes pegs around and picked through them, focusing on the ones that were bright red the most.

“Can you put them like this? See?” Dani grabbed a few blue ones and placed them on the floor together, then did the same with a handful of green ones.

He seemed only mildly interested in what she was doing, still gathering red pegs in his lap.

“Get me another blue one,” she encouraged, gesturing with a pair of folded jeans towards the little blue pile she had made.

Pausing in his pursuit of everything red within reach, Mikey glanced where she had indicated. When he grabbed the right color from the basket, she cheered and held up a hand for a high-five. Instead, he blinked at her and pushed the blue clothesline peg into her hand as though she had asked for it, leaving her with her hand outstretched holding onto it.

“Well,” Dani said, placing the peg back into the pile with the others. “Thanks. I really needed that.”

She had nearly finished folding the last of the laundry by the time Jamie called out that dinner was ready. When Dani went to pick up Mikey however, he wanted nothing of it, insisting upon walking to the kitchen, where he then refused to be seated at the table with them.

Jamie, already digging into a plate of pasta, shrugged at him while she chewed. “Up to you, mate,” she said. “More food for us, then.”

Dani sat at the table, clearing a place for her own plate and twirling pasta around a fork. On the other hand, Mikey seemed more than happy to be in the kitchen with them without eating. He wandered and Jamie largely ignored him in favor of focusing on her dinner, until Mikey started towards the stove.

“No,” Jamie shot to her feet, fork clattering to the table. She darted across the kitchen and grabbed him, ignoring his whine of complaint. “What did I tell you about the stove? Hey.  No.”

He tried to yank his arm away, but he wasn’t strong enough to break Jamie’s grasp. She let him go, shooing him back towards the table. With a petulant glower in her direction, Mikey trotted back out into the living room. Dani watched as Jamie sank back into her seat with a sigh and began picking at her food again.

“I don’t remember him being quite so –” Dani sought the right word and said, “- wilful.”

Jamie snorted. “Yeah. You’ve been away for a while.”

In truth it hadn’t been that long. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. All through the summer Jamie hardly seemed to leave the railway cottage unless absolutely necessary. Dani visited whenever she could get away from school or her mother. It just so happened that it most often involved sneaking out at night and rapping softly at Jamie’s window so as not to wake Mikey. An hour or two clutching a mug of tea with Jamie at midnight, but trying to get Jamie to talk these days was like pulling teeth.

There was a clattering sound from the other room, and both of them tensed. But then Mikey dragged the laundry basket into the doorway, trailing colorful plastic pegs in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. He sat on the floor and began arranging the pegs in an order that must have made sense to him but had little rhyme or reason beyond that.

“I still think you should move in with Judy,” Dani said, returning to her meal. “Or something.”

“Yeah. Or something,” Jamie repeated darkly. She stabbed at her plate of pasta with her fork.

Lowering her voice and casting Mikey a furtive glance, Dani said, “You can’t keep doing this, Jamie.”

Jamie continued to eat as though she hadn’t heard, focused entirely on her food.

“I know they gave you special time off for bereavement with the new year starting at school, but I haven’t seen you on campus in weeks. People are starting to ask me questions.”

At that Jamie went very still. She chewed slowly, swallowing a mouthful, and then said, “And what do you tell them?”

Blinking in surprise at the sudden shift in tone – low, almost dangerous – Dani leaned back in her seat. “Nothing.”

Jamie gave her a hard, significant look.

“Nothing,” Dani insisted. “I just say that you’re –” She gestured to Jamie, trailing off.

Jamie’s hand tightened around her fork, knuckles going white, but her voice was far too even, her expression terrifyingly blank. “That I’m what?”

“Taking care of things,” said Dani. “That you need more time.”

Jamie stared at her and the only noise to be heard was the sound of plastic clattering against linoleum as Mikey played in the kitchen doorway. Finally she rasped, “That all?”

“What?”

“Is that all? You don’t tell them about – about this?” She gestured, a short sharp movement, towards the cluttered kitchen, towards herself, towards her brother on the floor, who seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that any sort of serious conversation was taking place.

Dani’s mouth felt dry. She opened her mouth to speak, but had to swallow, to clear her throat and shake her head. “No.”

Jamie’s eyes were hard and stormy, her jaw squared, shoulders hunched.

Feeling a prickle of irritation, Dani met her glare for glare. “What do you think I’m going to say?” she asked. “Why don’t you want my help? Or anyone’s help?”

“You don’t know,” Jamie said, voice trembling. “You don’t know shit.”

But Dani continued, ignoring the warning flush in Jamie’s cheeks. “I know that you can’t keep doing this alone. I know that Nan’s bank accounts won’t last forever. I know that you can’t live off of pasta and eggs until you’re eighteen.”

There was an eerie stillness to Jamie’s face, to her hands. Dani was always so used to seeing her in motion – constant idle movement – that seeing Jamie hold herself absolutely still felt like being suddenly faced with a statue. And when Jamie spoke next, it was too calm, too collected. “I have a plan. I can make this all work, and –”

“Jamie –” Dani started to say.

“- And you need to mind your own bloody business,” Jamie snapped. “For once.”

The words lingered in the air, hanging between them. Taken aback, Dani stared. Their plates were barely touched. Outside, the sun was swiftly drifting towards the horizon. She would need to start heading home soon, otherwise her mother would start asking questions, would start looking for her over at Judy’s house when Dani didn’t show up before nightfall. And yet she remained frozen in her seat, watching Jamie return to her food with the tired, frightened solemnity of someone who hadn’t slept properly in God only knows how long.  

“I don’t need your help,” Jamie said. “I can do this. I can – I can fix this.”

Dani did not refute her. She didn't need to.

--

Jamie continued to miss school. Everyday Dani looked for her, even the barest glimpse of her, as she walked around campus, around town, and drowned in the worry that festered inside of her. She rang the rail cottage’s phone. Jamie never answered. And Dani couldn’t convince herself to walk over to Jamie’s house alone. Not after last time.

She kept collecting Jamie’s homework from the teacher, telling him that she would deliver it. The next day she would bring it back with all the answers written in her left hand, hoping this would fool him long enough into thinking that Jamie wasn’t completely absent. If he noticed, he did not say anything. For once, Dani prayed the public school system’s general apathy would work in her favor. Still, every time she turned in two sets of homework, she could feel her stomach writhe like a pit of snakes, watching her teacher shuffle through the pages, nearly sick with the idea of her deceit being unearthed.

She had never been a good liar.

“How’s Jamie been, honey?” Judy asked.

Dani froze. Like so many days before, she was at the O’Mara’s house. It was a weekend. Mike had taken Eddie to play a game of baseball, and Carson was banging away on a drum kitset in the garage, and Tommy and David were at college already, barely ever around apart from on holidays. Which left Dani alone in the kitchen with Judy, sipping lemonade and talking about nothing.

Clearing her throat, Dani lowered her drink, the glass sweating with condensation. Ice clinked. “I actually haven’t seen her that recently,” Dani admitted after a moment. “Last time I went over to her place was about two weeks ago.”

Judy frowned. “That’s very unlike you. Did you two -?”

When Judy made a gesture, Dani shook her head. “No. We - Everything’s fine. She just - She’s sad. That’s all. She’s doing her best.”

“Mmm,” Judy hummed contemplatively and rapped her fingers against the benchtop. For a moment she gazed off into the middle distance before she spoke again, “I’m worried. Has her family been in touch? Anyone from back across the pond, I mean?”

This was a trap. There was no good answer. Dani felt her mouth move as though of its own accord and the words slipped from her. “I don’t know,” she said faintly.

Judy was watching her intently. Had she always had such discerning eyes? Perhaps it was the natural state of being a mother, Dani thought, knowing when a child of yours was telling only partial truths.

“You would tell me,” Judy said, her tone as earnest as her expression, “if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

The breath caught in Dani’s chest, trapped there as though by a rope squeezing around her neck and forcing the air back down into her lungs. She could not look away. Slowly, Judy reached out and gently placed a hand over hers, making Dani tense.

She shouldn’t say anything. She should keep her mouth shut. She should fabricate some half-truth.

“Danielle?” Judy said, voice soft and lilting upwards in a question, prompting her.

“I think,” Dani licked her lips, clenching her hand into a trembling fist, heart hammering in her chest. “I think Jamie needs help.”

--

Dani had to divert all the attention away from Jamie somehow. At every turn she engaged Judy and Mike and Karen and her teachers and the school principal. They asked about Jamie and she tried to be charming. She tried to be disarming. She smiled as broadly as possible. She told of times she visited Jamie as though backdating forged documents.

Because Jamie was fine. Everything, she told them, was perfectly fine.

It wasn’t until Eddie and Carson started angling to see her that Dani realised just how much this plan had backfired.

Judy volunteered to drive the three of them to the old railway cottage, even though Eddie complained the whole time that he could drive them and that she needn’t have bothered. “You’re not the only one who misses Jamie, Edmund,” said Judy.

Eddie huffed in the front passenger seat and leaned his elbow on the car windowsill. “She said she was going to watch the world cup with me and then missed Argentina versus the Netherlands,” he mumbled sullenly.

From where Dani sat in the backseat, Judy’s face was but a visible strip in the rearview mirror like a cross section. She noticed Dani watching and smiled. Dani beamed in return until her cheeks ached, while her stomach did somersaults somewhere between her ribs.

Carson leaned forward, gripping the back of the driver’s seat and poking across the center console at his brother. “Hey, change the station.”

“Not on your life.”

“Mom, make him change the station.”

“Change the station, Eddie.”

  “Mom!”  

The moment the car slowed and pulled up to the curb outside of Jamie’s house, Dani had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was opening the door before Judy could cut the engine. “I’ll get her!” Dani said, overly bright. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She was faint with relief when none of the others stopped her. She had been convinced Eddie or Carson would bound along beside her, insisting on greeting Jamie for the first time in a month. Instead, Dani hurried past the unkempt front lawn and towards the steps leading to the door. The grass had grown past her ankles. A quick glance towards the side of the house proved that the lock on the shed was still tightly bound and going to rust.

Standing on the front step, swallowing down a swell of nausea, Dani knocked sharply on the door. Then she waited, wringing her hands together and casting surreptitious looks over her shoulder back towards the car, hoping beyond hope that nobody would step out and see through the illusion.

Footsteps from within the house, and the front door yanked open. Jamie frowned at her from behind the screen in suspicious bewilderment.

“Poppins, what -?”

“We’re here to take you out for lunch,” Dani announced with a wave of her hand towards the street.

With a weary sigh, Jamie pulled open the screen door as well. The flannel shirt was half untucked from her jeans, and her hair looked like it was in desperate need of a brush more than usual. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have -”

Before Jamie could finish, Dani lowered her voice furtively and said, “You need to be seen. Just - Just for the afternoon. Please? They’re starting to figure out that I’m - Well, that I’m bad at lying.”

Jamie’s eyes darted to the car over Dani’s shoulder, to where Judy and Eddie and Carson were waiting. The radio was still blaring loudly with Carson’s preferred station. Eddie had his nose buried in a book, and Carson was half leaning out the window to wave and call out to Jamie from the street, gesturing for her to join them. Judy, on the other hand, was tapping at the steering wheel and tonguing the inside of her cheek as she studied the cottage intently, her brows furrowed.

“I can’t -” Jamie started to say.

“You can bring Mikey,” Dani interrupted, still keeping her voice low, but with every word Jamie just shook her head, eyes shut, expression resigned. “Judy said she’d look after him for a few hours while you hang out with us.”

“Dani,” said Jamie more firmly this time. She leaned her forehead against the edge of the screen door and exhaled. “Just -” she opened her eyes and straightened. “Just tell them that I can’t make it because I’m driving to Des Moines with Mikey to meet an uncle tonight.”

Dani blinked. “Are you?”

Rather than answer, Jamie gave her a look. It was almost guilty. Mostly it was just tired.

Chewing at her lower lip, Dani nodded and looked away. Her hands were balled up into fists at her side, and she started when she felt a warm touch at the knuckle of her thumb tucked away. Gently Jamie urged her fingers to unclench. Behind her the house was dark and silent. More than anything Dani wanted to push her way inside, grab Mikey with one hand and Jamie in the other, and drag them both away. Away from this house. Away from the weight of its shingles groaning over them. Away from the bedroom still festooned with a dead woman’s things, as though she would be back any second, as though she had never really gone.

Jamie squeezed her hand. “Bring me back something, yeah? Make sure it’s tomorrow. Otherwise they’ll suspect.”

“Tomorrow?” Dani repeated. Less a question and more a confirmation.

“Tomorrow,” Jamie said.

Reluctant, Dani let go. She turned to leave, stopped, then faced Jamie again on a lower step. “Are you sure?”

Jamie watched her with an expression Dani could not even begin to describe. And somehow through it all Jamie managed a smile. “Yeah,” she said, hand drifting to the door. “You guys go on without me.”

--

The next day Dani walked to Jamie’s house, for she still did not have a bicycle of her own. She could have asked to borrow Eddie’s bike or even Carson’s, except then one or both of them would insist upon accompanying her to wherever she wanted to go. Always so eager to tag along in her presence regardless of where it was she went. After the last failed attempt however, Dani could not imagine showing up on the steps of the railway cottage with a whole host behind her. So, she walked alone.

The nights had grown brisk through the end of summer and the trees bristled with russet hues. Dani tucked her chin into the scarf around her neck and slipped her hands beneath her arms as she walked. It was the same scarf Jamie had given her at Christmas years ago. When it had begun to fray at the edges, Karen had attempted to throw it out, but Dani had rescued it – as she so often did with items her mother found lying about and deemed unsuitable for further use. Dani had long since grown accustomed to hiding precious things where Karen would be least likely to find them. Beneath rows of neatly folded sweaters. Between the pages of books arrayed on a bookshelf. Behind false panels in the back of her closet.

It was not dark – not yet – but there was the illusion of darkness. Every house Dani passed was illuminated from within, their windows squares of amber light washing warmly into the bluish air. Dusk was thick and fast upon them, heralding the coming night. She picked up her pace, the sounds of her footsteps oddly loud against the lined pavement, flanked on one side by the tarmac and by faded lawns on the other. Her mother was out on a date tonight in another town over, and Dani knew from past experience that she did not need to hurry home. Karen would not be back until late.

Perhaps, she thought to herself, she could bum a ride from Jamie. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, she could coax Jamie into letting her stay. Not much coaxing was required. Usually. Lately however, this was not the case. Lately, Dani was lucky if she caught a glimpse of her at the grocery store, looking harried, movements furtive, hands jammed into bulging pockets.

Dani slowed her approach, footsteps coming to an uneven halt. Of all the houses on the street, Jamie’s was the only one with dark windows. She frowned. Then, glancing around, she walked briskly towards the front door and knocked.

“Jamie?” she called out, her knuckles rapping against the door, over and over again. “It’s me! I’m back! Jamie?”

No response. No sounds of muffled footsteps or the radio or Mikey’s crying – the kind he always made when he’d been woken from a shallow sleep. Dani leaned to one side in order to peer through the nearest window, but the blinds had been drawn and she could see nothing but the silhouette of familiar clutter within. Shapes in the encroaching dark, static in the shadows.

Turning, Dani slowly made her way back to the sidewalk. There she sank down and sat on the edge of the pavement, arms wrapped around her knees. She wished she had brought a hat, something to keep her ears warm. Her gaze sought out any hints around the street.

The truck was still parked not far off. Jamie must have decided to go for a walk. It had happened once or twice in the past, Jamie pushing Mikey along in a pram that had a radio tucked into it playing music as they strolled along a sun-drenched street. Jamie was out for a walk. Jamie had gone to the corner store or the gas station. Jamie would be back any moment.

A car rumbled around a corner and instinctively Dani’s head perked up. Headlights peered down the road like a pair of eyes, luminous. The car pulled into a neighbour’s driveway and Dani sank back down where she sat, idly watching a father of three instruct his kids to help him bring grocery bags inside.

Restless and uncertain, Dani stood. She made her way around the back of the railway cottage, carefully stepping over the flowerbeds and around the hedges that Jamie had once so carefully maintained but which had since gone to seed. Deftly ignoring the broken bike half buried in overgrown weeds, she climbed the porch and lifted herself up on her toes trying to see into one of the kitchen windows, but the lacey curtains Nan had preferred mostly obscured the piles of dishes in the sink and on the bench. Dani cocked her head and made a soft noise of puzzlement at the sight of an undrunk cup of tea on the small dining table crammed into the kitchen.

After hesitantly knocking once again at the window this time, Dani wandered over to the old tire swing that still hung from the tree after so many years. She could remember so clearly the second time they had put it up as she slipped her legs through one at a time in order to sit. Her arms draped over the top of the tire. One hand curled around the rope keeping it up, and she rested her chin atop the other. With the heel of her shoe, she rocked herself gently back and forth, keeping a watchful eye on the house, ears pricked, alert, waiting for the slightest hint of Jamie’s return.

From the next lot over, Dani could hear a back door sliding open. She blinked in that direction but soon turned her attention back to the house. The sounds of rustling as a dog was let out to race around a back lawn. A man wearing a baseball cap calling out after the animal. He looked over, saw her sitting on the swing, and seemed startled.

“What the hell are you doing over there at this hour?” he asked.

For all the time spent at Jamie’s house, Dani did not know the neighbors well. They had a habit of high turnover at this end of town, at least by North Liberty’s standards. The two knew of each other, but did not know each other beyond brief acquaintances that sometimes exchanged awkward waves in passing. Once she had taken over a tray of baking, and his wife had kindly given her a cup of lemonade in their kitchen, but that was the extent of it.

Still rocking slightly back and forth, Dani pointed towards the cottage and said, “Waiting. Have you seen Jamie today?”

For some reason that gave him pause. From this distance she could not clearly see the expression on his face, but he appeared frozen for a moment until his dog came racing up to him, tail wagging. He gave it an absent-minded pat on the head before shooing it away.

“Didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Oh, geeze.” He took off his hat to rub a hand over the dark stubble of his hair. “I don’t know how to break it to you kid, but –” Using his hat to make a helpless little gesture towards Jamie’s house, he said, “She’s gone. Her and the boy. Child protective services came ‘round.”

Dani stared at him for a long moment. The sound of the dog barking at something in the distance startled her, made her sit up straighter and ask, “What? When?”

He shrugged and slapped the baseball cap back onto his head. “This afternoon. Or so the missus tells me.”

Dani slowly turned her gaze back towards the house. That couldn’t be right. Something like that couldn’t have happened so fast. There were still things inside the house. All of Nan’s things and Jamie’s, too. Jamie would have told her. Jamie would have rung, she would have left a note or a – a clue. Something.

“Hey, do you need a ride?” the neighbour asked cautiously. “You live on the other side of town, right? Is someone coming to get you?”

Feeling faint and illusory, as though even the slightest stir of the air would pass right through her, Dani shook her head. “No,” she said, and her voice sounded like it was spoken from miles away. “No, I’m – Nobody’s coming.”

He spoke to her again, but she didn’t hear. The swing stilled beneath her. Overhead the first few stars dotted the heavens, and the old tree bough creaked. She sat, hands twisted around the rope, staring at the porch and waiting for the light to flash – on and off and on and off – waiting to be called home.

[plotbnuy]

KarpReviews - The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Back when The Hunger Games became a huge phenomenon, I have to admit that it didn’t quite grab me like it did for many. The original film came out on March 23rd, 2012, followed by Catching Fire late next year. These films started a trend of dystopian novel movie adaptations, with Divergent coming out on March 21st 2014, and Maze Runner coming out on September 19th that same year. By the time Mockingjay: Part One released on November 21′s, right after Maze Runner, I’d become a little burnt out on these tales of children fighting for survival against an oppressive system meant to keep society under control. Despite reading the first two books in the series, I didn’t return for Mockingjay. 

That is, until a few months ago.  I decided to give the books another try, and to my delight I grew to really love and appreciate them. Katniss is a wonderful protagonist, surrounded by a surprisingly colorful and interesting cast of characters (even though it still features the classic love triangle trope.) While the first two books were rereads, going in blind into Mockingjay was a treat, and I felt the series had a wonderfully satisfying ending. 

Imagine my delight, however, when I realized that there was a prequel to the series! The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes features a much different entry in the story, taking place long before the events of the main series to highlight the tenth Hunger Games. In order to spice up what is comparatively an archaic and unpolished annual event, The Capitol has enlisted a large selection of students from an elite secondary school - simply referred to as “The Academy” - to mentor the children forced to fight in the arena! Who else should be chosen to be a mentor but a young Coriolanus Snow, hoping to become recognized and attain a university scholarship on his path to becoming President of Panem.

Yes, this entry puts us in the perspective of the infamous Coriolanus Snow, allowing us to see a little bit into what led to the events of the original Hunger Games novel. Not only does it flesh out Snow himself, but also how the titular event became the lavish, intricate, and audacious spectacle depicted during Katniss’s run in the arena. This allows this entry to differentiate itself immensely from the others, allowing it to feel fresh and new while it gives us a better look into the universe we’ve become a part of after three other novels and four films. With that being said, I want to dive deeper into what makes this particular entry so engaging. 

While other entries in the series have a bit of a fluid structure, our story this time is split into very neat thirds: The events leading up to the games, the games themselves, and the aftermath. This time, we get to see the perspective of the games from the capitol’s eyes, as opposed to the districts. However, while the event is massively celebrated, with banquets, parties, tours, and intricate broadcasts during the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, the 10th is much different. It’s much bleaker and more depressing, as tributes are treated like livestock, with no access to good food or proper shelter. Many citizens, District or Capitol, would rather ignore the barbaric event, only bothering to attend The Reaping before returning to daily life. There’s no reward for victory, beyond the singular tribute avoiding death, only to return to the poverty-stricken districts. Tributes die before even entering the arena, leading the games themselves to be swift and merciless. 

Ultimately, this raw and bleak depiction of the games, combined with Capitol citizens not yet disillusioned by the grandeur of future games, still recovering from the war, is a perfect choice for this Capitol-centric prequel. It keeps the citizens of The Capitol that we spend most of our time with from being completely unsympathetic, and it allows for a much more engaging story. Even before the games themselves, many things happen that impact the story, allowing for a lot of tension as things lead up to the main event. 

Speaking of the Hunger Games, this is the first time we get to enjoy them from outside of the arena itself. As the story follows our mentors, we get to watch from their perspective as spectators as the games commence in the arena. This event also happens to be the first where sponsors are allowed to affect the games, sending gifts for the tributes to possibly keep them alive. Since the mentors themselves have agency over the games, they never feel boring as you hope for the survival of our main character’s tribute. The aftermath of the games left me absolutely shocked, leading into a finale that felt unlike anything the series has had to offer before.

Even though Coriolanus Snow is designated as our main character, this story is truly given life by the people who surround him. Closest to him is Sejanus Plinth, a childhood friend who joins Snow in the tribute mentorship program as his classmate. At first, Sejanus is telegraphed as an old rival and a clear foil to Snow, and you suspect he’ll be something of an antagonist given the disdain Coriolanus seems to have for him. However, I was pleasantly surprised as the story paints a much more intricate picture of our main character’s best friend. Their relationship is one of the many highlights of this story, as even when Snow tries to distance himself, or otherwise shows dislike for Sejanus, their paths become forcibly intertwined, and it becomes unclear whether they will become bitter rivals or loyal comrades.

The real star of the show for me is Coriolanus’s tribute, a District 12 girl named Lucy Grey Baird. A member of the Covey, she’s a performer and singer who prides herself in her skill for entertainment. With both Panem and the reader as her audience, her personality and charm is utterly captivating, with an even sharper wit than Katniss. Despite the circumstances, she becomes fond of Coriolanus early on, a fact attributed to Snow being one of the few mentors that goes out of his way to forge a bond with his tribute. She leaves an impression from her very first scene, and every moment with her going forward is captivating and wonderful. Truly, if I had to give a single reason to read this book, it would be for Lucy Grey specifically. Even though her situation seems completely impossible, you can’t help but hope for her victory in the games. 

Of course, there’s always room for a good antagonist, even in a story starring Coriolanus Snow. Casca Highbottom, dean of The Academy, is one of the main obstacles making Snow’s future so uneasy. The story says little about him at first, only that he isn’t Coriolanus’s biggest fan, and that he created the Hunger Games themselves. He’s hard to read as a threat, given his addiction to painkillers and somewhat contradictory dialogue. Truthfully, he’s not much of a villain. 

Enter Doctor Volumnia Gaul.  Serving as the head Gamemaker, as well as an instructor at the Capitol University, she spends a large amount of time with both Coriolanus and the other mentors. Specializing in the “muttations” that her labs create for the Capitol, she serves as something of a mentor herself for Snow, challenging his morals and shaping his ideals. She starts off as seeming like an ally, only for her to show just how dangerous she is. She has a blatant disregard for life itself, only just barely being grounded enough to not be entirely absurd. Her presence gives the story a lot of much-needed tension, and I found her to be absolutely riveting. 

What impresses me the most about Songbirds and Snakes is how it expertly avoids delivering what could have easily come off as a tragic backstory intended to garner sympathy for Panem’s ruthless dictator. Instead, it cleverly highlights Coriolanus’s personality, nature, aspirations, and faults, adding to his character without ever trying to suggest that he’s misunderstood or redeemable. His downfall, while accelerated by his environment, can be attributed entirely to the choices he makes himself. Even when surrounded by good people who genuinely love and care for him, miles away from the capitol, he makes the choice to become who he is: a vile, treacherous, untrusting snake. Yet, despite knowing his fate, there was a part of me that hoped he would make the right choice anyway, making the end of his arc even more effective. 

Suzanne Collins is a truly talented writer. Not only is the original trilogy a fantastic read, but she managed to craft a prequel that both builds the lore of the series and has a major impact on the story as a whole. The connecting tissue between this prequel and the rest of the series is solid, not only fleshing out the world explicitly, but leaving breadcrumbs for attentive fans to enjoy. Upon reading the final chapters, there was a particular scene I couldn’t get out of my head. It wasn’t one within the book itself, but one that harkened forward to Mockingjay. I can picture Coriolanus Snow, eyes focused on the television as the rebels broadcast another one of Katniss’s propaganda videos. He can tell she’s in District 12, walking amongst the rubble of the decimated mining town. He thinks to turn away from the image of the collapsed Justice building and broken town square... until he hears Katniss begin to sing. His blood runs ice cold, every hair on his body stands on end, and in a hoarse, mangled voice, he begins to wail. Every one of his past sins comes rushing back as Katniss Everdeen unwittingly deals the most devastating blow she could ever give to Coriolanus Snow. It’s a scene that remains completely theoretical, and yet it’s perhaps one of the most powerful images in the entire Hunger Games saga. If you’ve enjoyed the rest of the series, then I urge you to read The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.