#and get excited because in the next part we're heading back to All Skate

[cherrygorilla]

The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window. 

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat. 

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly. 

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?" 

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention. 

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?" 

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail. 

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption. 

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that." 

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more. 

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother. 

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…" 

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?" 

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone. 

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool. 

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk. 

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air. 

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?" 

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether. 

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway. 

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring." 

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Jennifer and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink. 

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that. 

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend. 

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily." 

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was. 

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas." 

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp. 

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really. 

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't- 

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it. 

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further. 

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body. 

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did. 

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!" 

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short. 

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs. 

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area. 

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser. 

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August. 

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk. 

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning." 

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him. 

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant. 

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench. 

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet. 

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals." 

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it. 

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one. 

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him." 

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle. 

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from. 

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack. 

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?" 

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?” 

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand. 

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there. 

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time. 

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her. 

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer. 

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk. 

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page. 

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile. 

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!" 

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble. 

"Why don't you just play with us then?" 

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun." 

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?" 

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know. 

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance. 

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!" 

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played. 

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?" 

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?" 

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?" 

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit. 

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts." 

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows. 

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders. 

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe. 

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour. 

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation. 

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation. 

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned. 

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now. 

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother. 

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again. 

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult." 

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk. 

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is. 

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound. 

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet. 

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?” 

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat. 

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore." 

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest. 

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat. 

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind? 

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her." 

"Not by choice," Miles huffed. 

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?” 

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?” 

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.” 

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out. 

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified. 

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!" 

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls. 

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall." 

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world. 

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked. 

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?" 

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed. 

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him. 

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile. 

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset. 

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3." 

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed. 

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?” 

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh. 

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own. 

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart." 

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?" 

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?" 

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering. 

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again. 

Ok, now Carrie was really confused. 

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was. 

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message. 

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet." 

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his- 

Wait, why was she turning back around? 

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.  

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered. 

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck. 

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains. 

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence. 

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?" 

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod. 

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin. 

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. 

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now. 

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought. 

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear. 

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it. 

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?" 

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed. 

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all. 

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again. 

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.  

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff." 

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying. 

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation. 

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute." 

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle. 

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever. 

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery. 

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?" 

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense. 

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally. 

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify. 

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two." 

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin. 

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition. 

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses. 

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times. 

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong. 

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised. 

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?" 

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again. 

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat. 

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air. 

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention." 

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!" 

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one. 

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried. 

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again. 

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?" 

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises. 

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern. 

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed. 

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-" 

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat. 

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped. 

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition. 

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point. 

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw. 

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?" 

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend." 

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own. 

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test. 

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?" 

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.  

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though. 

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright. 

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again. 

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?” 

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?” 

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement. 

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed. 

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own. 

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick. 

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity. 

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief. 

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

The headcanons you wrote for Berry and Rasp were so good! Would you be willing to do some romantic headcanons for the cool skellies? (Cross, fresh, and epic?) I'm so excited to see what other stuff you write and draw!

Oh my thank you traveler! I hope you enjoy the future content on my blog <3

Featuring:Fresh, Epic, Cross.

Masterlist

Fresh

Traveler did you really fall for a parasite?

Looks like you have a very cool datemate broski!

Fresh definitely has trouble showing affection at first, he's never been in a relationship before ya know?

However, he asks his best buddy Dream for advice! He also asked Ink and Error but they didn't have very useful advice

He's not a fancy guy, nah, he's taking you to the skate park or just a random park for a date and doing picnics until the moon appears.

Does not have a house of his own, he's a parasite, he doesn't work silly, so he lives with you on the omega timeline.

He tries to help around the house, he swears the microwave exploded on its own though!

I headcannon most Sanses as tall, and Fresh's probably the tallest (if we're not counting with Ted) , it's pretty common how much he picks you up just because he wants to.

Sometimes he says he's "going to work" and comes back hours later, turns out his "job" is annoying the living shit out of Error.

If you ever want to learn skate boarding he'll gladly teach you with a smile stuck on his face during the process.

Epic

Oh my, dating the King of memes are we traveler?

He's one of the best skeletons to date on the multiverse, lives in the omega timeline, is funny, treats you like you're the most important person who ever existed for him, now that I think about it you're kinda lucky traveler.

Talking about memes, he lags your phone with how much he sends you, Epic does not have pity on your poor phone.

He's the type of guy who the moment you ask for attention, he's cuddling you in the couch while a movie's playing on the TV.

Epic surprisingly knows more about the multiverse than how to cook. He managed to burn pasta. PASTA.

Grabs random cats from the street and adopts them, y'all have like 6 cats now, and one is named oi oi oi... Please stop your man traveler...

Makes you laugh on every opportunity he gets, especially when you're feeling down.

Takes you out to outertale pretty regularly, and every time he points at the brightest star he sees and says "Look at it darling! It's ya!"

Cross

Sometimes Killer teases you asking if you got yourself a boyfriend or a dog.

This is because Cross kinda acts like a guard dog, he's big and he can be scary when he wants to, plus, he works with Nightmare! What if someone tries to take you hostage? He can't let that happen can he?

I am aware that in canon Cross isn't part of the bad Sanses and all, but in this version he works with Nightmare destroying and terrorizing worlds to reconstruct his own.

You're definitely not living in the omega timeline, you're living on his unfinished AU instead!

He's used to waking up early, 6 am maximum, so when he sees your cute sleeping face laying next to him, he just can't let himself get up without filling your face with kisses.

Chara teases him for being such a softie around you.

Cross loves sleepy cuddles in the morning, especially when you're burying your head on his chest while murmuring for him to get back to sleep.

When he gets back from a long mission he usually brings you small gifts he thinks you'd like.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 33 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

Wren Ridley

The next day, Mom and Dad drove Fox to Providence early so that he could make it for the morning skate with his team at Brown's rink.

The rest of us stayed home for a little while longer until it was closer to game time before we piled into my car and drove to Brown.

Luckily it was cold enough out for me to justify wearing a turtleneck, so the hickeys from Landon went unnoticed.

"Wren, turn the heat on," Fawn exclaimed loudly from the back seat.

She sat in the middle and leaned forward so that her face was in between Robin and me.

"The heat is on," I replied.

"Well, it's not reaching back here."

"We're going to cook up here if he turns it up," Robin said, turning to face her.

"Huddle together and use each other's body heat for warmth."

Fawn smacked him on the shoulder and leaned back in her seat.

She was the only one complaining but that was typical.

Colt was leaning against the window with his face buried in his cell-phone, headphones in and drowning out the rest of us.

Raven was reading some romance book with a half naked man on the cover.

It seemed that the only thing that passed the time for Fawn was complaining.

"This is sexist," Fawn grumbled, causing Robin to let out a shocked laugh.

"How so?"

"It just is," she said.

"Women always have to be cold so men can be comfortable."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"There is actually a study about how office temperatures are based on male preferences, often leaving women cold and uncomfortable at work," I added, earning a look of confusion from my brother.

"Okay but this isn't an office building," Robin replied.

"I'm just saying, she's not wrong."

"Alright, alright," Robin relented, turning the heat up.

"I will turn it up just for you, little Fawn."

Shocker.

Robin was not one to deny his siblings anything.

The rest of the ride had a lot less complaining and by the time we reached the ice rink, it was almost game time.

Our parents were already in the stands, saving a row for the rest of us.

When we found them, Dad was sprawled across three seats while Mom had put each of their jackets and her purse in three others.

Dad was decked out in Northeastern gear.

He had a zip up sweatshirt, a t-shirt under that, a hat and even a small flag.

Mom's attire was simpler, just a quarter-zip with a Northeastern logo in the corner.

"You guys made it," Dad exclaimed, standing up.

"Good thing too because that was getting really uncomfortable."

Mom kissed each of her children on the head as we filed into the row and took our seats.

"Wren, sweetie, if you want to go sit with some friends that's okay. Don't let us keep you," she said as I sat beside her.

She was just bluffing anyway.

Mom wanted us all to be together to watch Fox play like we used to.

I didn't even know if Stella and James were in Providence.

They could have each gone home for Thanksgiving.

I doubted Stella did since she chose a school so far away from home to have an excuse not to have to go visit.

"I'll stay here," I said. Mom smiled and tossed an arm around me, squeezing me into a hug.

Sitting next to Robin during this was a big mistake.

He was loud an obnoxious, bumping into me whenever he stood up when something he found exciting was happening.

I could barely follow along with this, not because it was difficult but because I found it so boring.

Fox was playing well apparently and my whole family stood up when he scored a goal.

Mom was gripping my arm every time Fox was even on the ice, either out of nerves or excitement.

Robin let out a loud 'boo' when Fox got sent to the penalty box during the last period.

"Bullshit call," he exclaimed.

"What happened?" I asked, looking down at the ice in confusion.

"Guy got caught up in Fox's stick and they called him for tripping," Robin explained, shaking his head with irritation.

'Okay, whatever that meant.'

I assumed tripping other players wasn't allowed and warranted a penalty but what did I know.

When Fox got out of the penalty box, he immediately got a breakaway with the puck.

My whole family stood in anticipation and when he scored yet again, a chorus of cheers came from all of them.

Even Colt seemed like he was into the game and I didn't think he liked anything other than his cell-phone and his video games.

Fox's team ended up winning, which probably wasn't all that difficult for them.

I wasn't sure that Brown had a great hockey team, not that I followed it that closely.

"Oh, that was such a good game," Mom said happily as we walked out of the stands and toward the exit.

"I'm still mad about that bullshit call on Fox but at least he scored because of it," Robin said, walking ahead with our mother.

Once we got outside, we just stood around waiting for Fox.

Our parents wanted to bring us all out to dinner and had made reservations at a place not too far from the rink.

"Oh, Wren," Mom called out, grabbing my attention away from my phone.

"Isn't that your friend over there?"

Dread was what I felt at that moment.

There was only one 'friend' from school that my mother had ever met and it was the last person I needed walking over here when Fox was bound to show up at any moment.

"Landon," she called out, waving at him.

"Mom, wait," I started but it was too late.

He saw us.

He saw my mother waving at him to come over and against his better judgement, he did.

Most likely to avoid seeming rude to my sweet mother but part of me wished he just ran away.

He said something to the guys he was with, presumably guys from his hockey team and started walking toward our group.

Robin glanced at me with wide eyes but didn't say anything.

Even Fawn looked over at me with a sort of panicked expression.

"Landon. It's good to see you again," Mom said with a kind smile.

"Yes, you too, Mrs. Ridley," Landon politely replied.

"Sweetie, just call me Vanessa," she said.

"We're about to head out to dinner. You should come with us. We never get to see any of Wren's friends."

"Oh, that's alright. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding. Please, I insist."

"Mom," I started, hoping to move this along before Fox showed up but of course, it was too late.

Fox stood at the other end of the group, throwing a murderous glare Landon's way.

At that point, I really didn't know what to do.

He had seen him and sure, I could probably find some way to explain this away if our mother wasn't so insistent on Landon coming to dinner with us.

If he had just been passing by and being polite, this could have been explained away in few words.

Fox's glare seemed to grow darker and it was like he knew this had something to do with me because he turned that glare on me and our parents, being oblivious to this, greeted Fox with smiles and rounded us up to the cars so we could go to dinner.

Mom walked beside Landon, leading him to my car like she was afraid he would escape if she strayed too far.

All I could feel was Fox's fiery glare on the back of my head as we went to the car.

[shotthemessenger]

Paantu Visit~

au: Miniseries(?) continued off from this commission~ Disclaimer: This was a requested harem (possible) series, so there will be a love square/triangle thing. Reader is fem black; some grammar mistakes are there for a reason. Mentions of nudity, nothing really suggestive.

You have been warned~

"Haaah! The road is so smooth! So easy to skate on!" Reki exclaimed, with Langa following behind him. "Excuse me, I need an adult!!!" Shadow screamed from in the car, not wanting to be driving the car. That's when you sneak around. Appearing out of nowhere once again. Cherry and Joe start bickering, leading to Joe speeding up and doing his little thangy thang. Which made Reki want to do it.

"No Reki. We are here to let your wounds heal, remember?" You chuckle, scaring them. "Indeed Reki, Langa's right. And you can't race me if you're still all bruised up, can you? I mean, I'm sure you'd try, but I'd never." Everyone's eyes widened at the sound of your voice. Reki grew excited. "Really?! You're willing to race with me?!" When you nod his body was set at ease, a soft smile placed on his lips. Now this was how he was supposed to feel. Excited and warm, not anxious and worried. Langa pointed out the beach, catching everyone's attention. It was beautiful indeed. You turn your head to Cherry and lock eyes with him.

You slip your mask off and catch the boys, and Shadow off guard. Of course, you were as stunning as always, which wasn’t what was expected to be under that mask. A sweet smile danced on your lips as you looked at the pink haired male. "I missed you Kaoru." His eyes soften at your words, and for the first time, he smiles as well. "I missed you too [Reader]. You left me with this ape." You giggled while Joe shouted back at the two of you for making sly jokes. Things we're turning out great.

You had your sundress on over your bikini so for the most part you played in the sand or watched the boys in the water. When you were ready to get in the water, you pulled a seat up next to Kaoru and poked him. "Hey, you think you could put some sunscreen on my back? I'd ask Joe but he looks to be sulking after what Miya just pulled." Kaoru sits up and offers to switch seats, which you gladly take, laying on your stomach. Right before he started Joe popped in to see what the two of you were up to. Totally not because you were with Kaoru and not him.

"Oh Kojiro? I thought you were sulking." You giggled, looking over to him. "Well, I was, but what are you two doing?" He asked, looking at your not so kid friendly bikini and Kaoru's hands. "Mm? Well I asked Kaoru here if he could put my sunscreen on my back. If you want you could do my back legs. I haven't started yet so they still need to be covered." He excitedly agreed to it, taking that opportunity to get a good feel on your legs, and he realized they were much bigger than he anticipated. This sunscreen did wonders for your skin though. Throughout it, you could feel the difference in size and length between their hands, however...

It was ticklish, very ticklish. You didn't have anything to worry about because you had Cherry to watch Joe if he got too handsy.

After getting all covered up you ran out to enjoy the water, like a little kid again. You got a little too far out and got hit with a humongous wave. And then, attempted, to run all the way back to shore with your eyes closed. Of course, you run right into Joe, almost falling over. He's quick with his hands and cradles you in his arms. "Hey [Reader]. What happened?" You move away from him and snorted some water out of your nose. "I can't see I need my beach towel." He was so lucky you had your eyes closed because he had to stop himself from laughing at the situation, that was too funny.

His hand was steady on your back as he guided you to the towels. You wipe your face off and blink a couple of times. "Thanks! I'mma go grab a drink from the bar, don't wait up!" With that you dipped, Joe leaving you to your own activities. While waiting by the bar, two men approached you from behind, coughing to get you attention. You turn around in disgust, looking at the person that just coughed on you. "Uh, 6 feet if you're gonna be coughin' on folks." You back up and they come forward. not respecting your boundaries. They start trying to flirt with you, but it makes you uncomfortable, so you just take you drink and leave.

But these dudes don't understand what no means. Joe and Cherry were actually sitting and having a serious conversation when they heard you shout. "Dude, I said I don't wanna give you my number, what's your issue?!" Joe hopped up from his seat and stalked over to you, sliding a hand on your waist and pulling you into a back hug. "Hey babe, are these guys causing you problems." You wanted to laugh at his terrible acting, but you were still irritated. "Yes, they won't leave me alone." You exaggerate a little, crossing your arms and leaning on one foot.

They made up a fake excuse to get out of there, seeing as they are very out matched. Once they were out of sight you gave him a high five. "Let's go, randoms - 0 Kojiro - 1!" He flexed to your silly voice, acting like an idiot with you. Kaoru scoffs with a smile, going back to relaxing.

Later that day, the guys were ready to go to the hot springs, of course since you were the only woman, you'd have to go to it alone, but you were amused at the joy they found in skating even at this time. On a count of three they were off, leaving Reki behind. "Oh, why me!" You chuckle and tap his shoulder. "Come ride with me, we can see if we can catch up to Langa or Miya." He really didn't want to, but you were super nice and pretty, so he must of course. Your conversation was mainly you listening to him ramble about skating and about how he makes and improves boards and such. He was embarrassed when he realized what he was doing, but you waved him off. Oh, so humble.

You put a hand on his shoulder and put your fan up to hide your lips. "I think we are being followed, you got straight, and I'll go back that way to distract them." He was creeped out but nodded, going ahead while you turned around. You just passed your destination.

On Cherry and Joe's end, it seemed as though they were waiting for the longest. "They are really late, man. Do you think that something happened to them?" Cherry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I did hear you were into haunted houses, if I'm not mistaken." Joe shrugged his shoulders and clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I dig women clinging onto me." Cherry scoffed again, sharing a usual insult. They bickered a little until the sound of footsteps approaching caught them off guard.

"You guys are late!" Joe announces, which makes the footsteps stop. It was eerily silent, even with them questioning who it was. You coughed and appeared from the steam, a towel hugging your body. "Hey, it's just me. It was really quiet and lonely over on the woman's side, I hope you don't mind if I join the two of you. I would've stayed over there but I noticed that the others haven't made it back yet." The both of them relax seeing you. It wasn't common you saw them close enough like that, well it wasn't common that you saw them at all. You round the hot spring to join them in the spot that was empty and in between them.

You lowered yourself in & sat comfortably next to them. "Haaah, this reminds me of old times. You know, when Adam wasn't such a bitch." The two of them shared a laugh to your comment, easing up on the tension. You lower yourself all the way to where half your head was visible. You thought to yourself for a moment while the other two started arguing again. You looked over to Kaoru and stared at him, almost through him. He's gotten really pretty over time.

You look over to Kojiro and analyze his features, and then you sit up and look down at yourself. "Damn. You guys are so well built. And Kaoru you've gotten prettier..." You mumbled the last part, but they definitely heard it. And obviously, Kojiro started teasing you, making you shrink into the water again. It should be right about now that they should be coming. You quickly move away from the two of them, hiding at the opposite side of the pool. Confused, they were about to call out to you when squelching noises caught their attention. "Now you guys wanna come?" Joe huffs at them.

"That smell is offensive!" Cherry exclaims to them. Then two hands held onto their shoulders. Into the mud they go.

The next day, back on the ferry that you decided to join them on this time, Shadow complained about the smell. Miya retorted only to get slammed back down by Shadow's profession. Joe piped up as well, stating something about ghosts and shit. You weren't really paying attention because you were lost in your own world.  You had this really big ice cream cone and you were watching out the ocean before going to sit next to Reki. "What the? Where the heck did you get that from?!" Reki exclaimed, looking at how big it was.

"I got it from the kitchen. Also, it was Paantu. Didn't you read the flier?" You asked and they all paused for a moment. "What flier?!" Joe and Shadow shouted at the same time. You reach into your purse and pull out the flier that was literally everywhere and they passed it around. Looks like someone didn't do their homework. "If you guys knew ahead of time you probably wouldn't have gotten mudded." You say while licking your ice cream. Joe tried to snatch your ice cream but failed. You switch seats over next to Cherry, playfully saying "Kaoru, protect me from that beast!"

He rolls his eyes and continues reading on his tablet when he realizes something. "Did you get covered in mud like the rest of us?" You cringe slightly. "No, uhm, I think because of my skin they probably thought I was already mudded..." You mumbled. A vein popped on Joe's face, raising a brow. "What...?" Uh ohhhh. "We are never coming back here." Kaoru announced, to which Joe agreed, for once. Welp!

"Tadashi, I have decided. We will hold a tournament. That way I'll regain her love again! [Reader] is my Eve and I need to keep her raw talent by my side. Forever." Tadashi cringed internally but stayed neutral on the outside. This guy is obsessed with her.

au: I hope you liked itttttttttt @simpingforwakasa04

[hawksugarbaby]

Denki x Gn reader- sk8 boi

Fluff + Bnha / Sk8 the infinity crossover

You sighed following your friends to the skatepark to supervise as usual. You might as well have been babysitting the boys as your only purpose when going to the skatepark was to make sure neither of them died or got run over by the ignorant bikers who seemed to own the park.

"Hey (y/n) do you wanna try today?" Denki asked with a smile and held his board out in front of your face spinning the wheels for added effect. "Yeah wouldn't it be cool if you got on the board just once?" Reki added with his hands pushed together in a plea. "Guys I would 100% break my face and you know it. Just go have fun!" you shoo them away and jump up on the wall to sit and watch. "And i'll be here. As always" you muttered drumming your hands on your thighs and watched the other wheeled transportations slip past you and into the blur of others trying out impressive tricks you could never hope to achieve.

Of course Denki and Reki refused to let the third member of the warm coloured gang, named so because of kaminari's yellow hair, Reiki's red hair, and your orange backpack that always hung off one shoulder, refused to accept that you wouldn't let them teach you. They knew you, you were a quick learner and determined once you picked something up but you were also afraid of failing something, so of course you were hesitant to start skating with them.

On the plus side your running was incredible because of your constant need to keep up with the cheerful boys so you had the energy, the stamina, the strength and the balamce it took to sit on that thin wall all day and not fall off was a clear indicatoryou could balance for hours. You just didn't have the mindset.

"What if we taped their feet to the board?" Reki offered, digging through his bag for a roll of duct tape. "Nah, I think (y/n) would be more scared if they weren't able to get off the board. Langa was used to it so it wasn't a problem with him" Denki rolled his board back and forth under his feet and perked up at the sound of your music blasting through the mini speaker you brought. It was your way of being found if they needed you for a drink or a break or for snacks. "Maybe they just need some encouragement?" the red head smiled waving at you from across the park and you waved back slightly showing them you were paying attention and waiting for them to do something interesting.

Reki had the same mission as Denki, to get you on a board, but he also had to help you with your mission, one that might not be any easier than Denki's

"God he's so stupid and cute" you sighed watching Denki fall for a fourth time trying to do a pop shuvit. With your headphone's firmly lodged in your ears you hadn't noticed Reki standing beside you for the last 2 minutes. He yanked the headphone's out of your ears and you whipped your head around. "HEY!" you shouted trying to swipe them back but he held them out of your reach.

"Did you call Denki cute?" he asked with a gleeful tone and a glimmer of excitement in his amber eyes. "N-no I called him stupid" you stuttered feeling your face flush and you look back at him telling off his board as if it was a person and smile. Out of the corner of your eye you see Reki rearing up to say something and your mouth sets into a hard line once again. "You so called him cute! Do you have a crush on Denki, that's adorable!" he jumped up on the wall to sit with you and he handed you your white headphone's again.

"When did you start to like him?" he asked, nudging your arm and your sigh got stuck in your throat feeling like a useless attempt to get out of the conversation and you shook your head. "I don't have an exact date" you mutter but he looks at you expectantly anyway. "I guess when I started babysitting you guys-" "heeey, you do not babysit us" he interrupted but your facial expression was enough to make him sigh and agree. "Are you gonna tell him?" "fuck no" you laughed.

"Reki what if we-" "I have an idea!" he shouted and dropped his board skating to the music waving for Denki to follow. "What is it!" he shouted weaving through the other skaters and 2 boys on scooters zooming past them screaming. You were chatting politely with another person on the wall who was also babysitting their friends on the scooters. "guys I found another Enby parental figure!" you cheered hi-fiving the person sitting above you who politely waved at your friends then shouted at the boys on scooters for getting in others way's. (lol not an author self insert...)

"(Y/n) we really want you to try skating!" Reki begged, laying his scraped board on your lap and you face palmed. "I know you do. And look if i'm being truthful I would LOVE to learn to skate, but i'm just not built for it!" you argue and Reki grinned jumping onto the wall in a squat and whispered "you get to hold Denki's hands." he sat back and you gulped looking at the oblivious blonde sparking excitedly about the idea of you skating beside him- no, skating just the idea of you skating.

"I don't have the right shoes..." you mumble and Denki crouches to look at the size on the bottom of your chunky heels. "Hey we have the same shoe size!" he shouts enthusiastically and slips off his vans without untying the laces propping them on the wall. "Hold on. You're going to wear my heels just so I can skate?" you hesitantly unbuckle the heels and he nods giving you a spare pair of socks from his bag that he wasn't sure why he kept around. "It just means we're both experiencing challenges right?" Reki sat on the side with your highlighter orange bag excited to watch the bonding experience and your progress.

"Okay but promise me I wont die" you lift yourself off of the wall and nervously follow Denki who was stumbling slightly in your heels, to a quiter, flatter part of the park. "I promise you won't die" he held out his pinky and you wrapped yours around it sealing the promise. "Dude i'm scared to even get on the board nevermind like actually move on it!" you shout jumping up and down shaking your hands nervously. He stood next to you and his arm grazed your making your heart race and your temperature shot up. "It's okay, look I'll hold your hand" he said gently wrapping his hand around yours.

You sucked in a breath and all the air was robbed from your lungs at the same time. His hands were hot and sweaty, constantly pumping out electricity that sparked your hands and made your fingers twitch. "You're shocking me" you admit and he tut's at himself "I know, sorry I can't help it" he gripes and you nod not willing to give him grief for somethinghe couldn’t control.

You lift a foot hovering it over the board and then put it back down on the concrete. "I'm NERVOUSSS!" you shout, unable to detract from the feeling of his hands on yours and you look back at Reki who was watching with giant, hope filled eye's. "I know, everyone is nervous when they first start though" he says and you can almost see the smile he has on his face. Was it supposed to be this hard to get on? You weren't a huge part of Denki's life when he started to skate but you remember Reki taking months and months just to work through the basics, he was constantly disappointed and annoyed until he achieved the trick he was going for, and being quirkless it wasn't like anyone wanted to help him.

"Where am i supposed to put my feet" you ask quietly, feeling embarrassed about something so simple but Denki never thought anything you said was stupid or silly. "Put your left foot at the front on the 4 screws. And your back foot on the back screws" he said, patting the gritty board and held your hands while you nervously lifted your foot. "Okay okay okay" you hyped yourself up internally and squeezed his hands closing your eyes tightly while you put the ball of your front foot on the board.

It wobbled slightly and you gasped but Denki assured you it was fine and you quickly pulled your other foot on the board. "Am I on?" you asked, feeling taller than you were 2 minutes ago. "Look for yourself" Denki said cheerily and you fluttered your eyes open "oh my GOD I'M ON THE BOARD" you cried happily and he grinned from ear to ear admiring the happiness etched on your face. "Do you want me to let go" "NO"

After a good 15 minutes you felt you had a good basis of getting on and off the board, pushing, and turning your foot but you weren't great at stopping yet so you had a few tumbles but of course, Denki, your noght in shining armour was there to help you up on your feet again. "Thank you Denki" you sighed, rubbing your sore shoulder from falling on your side. "Hey you're getting a lot better!" he said happily and you decided to take a break together sitting on the opposite sides of Reki.

"Sooooo... feel any closer?" he asked, nudging your sides and he nodded "yeah their doing a lot better already" Denki smiled and you nodded getting at what Reki meant. "Yeah a lot closer" you smiled lightly and Reki grabbed his own board, dropping it and jumping on. "Well I'm gonna skate for a bit you two just enjoy your company!" he said dropping down a ramp and disappearing in the bowl.

"Thank you for teaching me to skate" you grin, your arms are pushed together and you don't move wanting to be close to him. "Reki's so good at skating" you sigh dropping your head. "Hey you'll get there. It takes time" he assures you and wraps an arm around your shoulders smoothly. "And I would like to help you, um if you're okay with it, obviously, like i'd like to help you along the way" he stammered and you chuckled. "Yeah i'd like that" you smiled leaning against his chest.

Bonus content

From on top of a ramp Reki cheered excitedly, missing his board and falling down the curve scraping his face. "FUCK YEAH!" he shouted into the metal and he felt the clatter of his skateboard drop onto his back. "Fuuuck. (Y/n)!" he shouted. And you, with your keen senses, heard him from the ramp and came running. "I'M COMING!"

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette chp 2 final part

an: sorry for taking so long! here's the masterlist!

tags: black reader, fem coded reader, lots of drama, minor vulgar name calling

tag list: @taybird

The first thing on your mind when you woke up was Bertie's kiss. It was so unexpected but so sweet. You almost forgot about Mikasa possibly stealing a guy you didn't really know. That's how nice Bertholdt's kiss was.

This morning you were having breakfast with Mikasa and Sasha, as usual. You knew this time was going to be different, however. You got ready for the day, thinking about what to expect from today's breakfast.

"So, I heard Bertholdt came out of his shell...oooh," Connie teased. As expected, Bertholdt's face reddened. The rest of the guys turned their attention to Bertholdt, curious about what he had done. "What happened, Bertholdt?" Porco asked. He was sitting near Bertholdt, so he was leaning into the taller boy's personal space. "N-nothing," Bertholdt says, looking away.

"A little BERTIE told me that you kissed y/n," Connie continues. "Connie, you're so corny," Onyankopon says jokingly. "You kissed?" Porco is now all up in Bertholdt's face. "Now, why would you do that? We're two weeks into the competition and you're kissing?"

"Hey, Porco, calm down," Eren jumps in. "Nah, because Bertie thinks he can just jump ahead. I mean, Eren, have you gotten a chance to be with y/n?" Porco huffed.

"He's too busy making out with Mikasa, y/n's best friend, he's probably not the best person to ask," Jean jeered.

"You shouldn't say anything at all, Jean. She has you wrapped around her finger. You're her pet dog," Eren snapped back.

"Isn't that the whole point? We're all supposed to give y/n our attention and seem interested in her," Armin jumps in.

His response shocks everyone the most. "So...you're not genuinely here for her?" Connie asked. His funny demeanor drops. "No...I need the money for medical school," Armin admits. "Nothing about y/n impresses me."

"Let's read what people are saying online!"

Levi had let you, Sasha, and Mikasa know that people had a lot to say about the show so far. He gifted you all a phone to take a look at during breakfast.

"Ok...so this first one is about Jean," Sasha starts. " 'Jean likes money...hence why he's here. He also has a short attention span in relationships."

"That...that doesn't sound like Jean..." you say. Unless?? Jean was a nice guy...a "nice guy". You couldn't believe it was all an act. He seemed like a sweet guy but that could also be a façade. "Ok...that one makes my brain hurt. Next please!"

Sasha passes the phone to Mikasa, who doesn't seem like she was there. "Mikasa, the phone," you point out. She jumps slightly, which is very not Mikasa-like. "Sorry," she says softly before taking the phone. You want to ask her what's up but, one, you have your own assumptions and, two, you didn't want something new to blow up in your face.

"Levi and Mikasa are planning on going against y/n. Their uncle/niece relationship says a lot. Mikasa needs to hop off the guys and let y/n have her moment."

Now, that one you could believe. Maybe not the part about Levi (he didn't seem to care) but you did feel that Mikasa was trying to interfere. You did laugh with her about her attraction to Jean and Eren but you couldn't help but consider that she could be plotting against you. The only role Levi would have in this is green-lighting her attempts. His job was to guide you and keep the drama going. He would have alerted you that something big was going to happen.

"That's kinda silly. You and Levi wouldn't pull something like that, right?" you nervously ask. Mikasa is quick to look you in the eye. "No, I wouldn't try that."

'No, I wouldn't try that.'

"Thanks for calming my suspicions," you reply. Mikasa's eyes widened. "What are you getting-"

"Can you hand me the phone, Mikasa?"

Mikasa moves her arm across Sasha and forces it in your direction. You've clearly hit a nerve. You snatch the device from her. "Thanks."

You read the next opinion. "'I'm on the edge about Jean and Eren'."

This was the second message about Jean and you couldn't help but be concerned. You would need to have a one on one conversation with him to make sure his intentions are right.

You weren't too surprised about the comment about Eren. However, You wanted to talk to him too.

"Well, Mikasa, it was nice seeing you. I'm sure you had a lot of fun last night. Get some more rest while Sasha and I go out. Alright?" you finally say.

Mikasa doesn't meet your eye.

(pick your fit!)

You hoped that this date would clear your mind and even give you some people to eliminate. You were excited about this date. You were going skating. It'd be more interactive and you wouldn't have to rely on subtle messages.

You and Sasha entered the same room where you met your previous dates. Today, you had Onyankopon, Armin, Nicolo, and Porco.

To your surprise, the energy in the room seemed off too. "Hi, y/n!" Onyankopon said cheerfully. There was a shaky feeling in his voice. Almost like he was nervous. Onyankopon was never nervous around you. He could easily walk up to you and you would converse for hours.

"Hey guys," you soon reply. Armin doesn't seem interested at all, Nicolo looks like he's in space, and Porco has an angry look in his eyes and can barely meet yours.

Suddenly, you don't even want to go on this date.

"Hey, what's going on? Why are you guys so...gloomy?" you ask. Porco finally looks up. "You know what's wrong? We're competing for a whore."

You felt like someone had just pulled your lungs on your chest. Did he just call you a whore?

"Hey!" Onyankopon barked. "You don't call her that!" You were taken back by Onyankopon coming to your defense. You had never seen him like this.

"Honestly, I'm so disappointed. I can't believe I have to go on a date with you guys! You're so ignorant. Armin, honestly, I can't believe you. You don't even want y/n. You're here to pay your bills off. And Nicolo? Why are you even here? We don't even see you around. And Porco, I don't even have to say anything to you. I think we all know what type of person you are."

The room remained silent for a moment. Your eyes began to water. You were overwhelmed. "I-I'm sorry. I need to step out." You turn on your foot and ignore Sasha's pleas to come back.

It was only the second week and there was so much going on. You understood that drama was key but this was too damn much.

"Oof-."

"Oh! I'm sorry- are you crying?"

You had bumped into someone. When you see who it is, your eyes widen. "Eren...what...no." You place your hands on your cheeks. You were crying. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date? Who made you cry?" Eren's tone became more hostile. You never thought you'd see him like this. "Eren, don't worry about it. I'm fine," you reassure him. Before Eren can open his mouth, you walk around him. You really wanted to find Levi. You knew who you wanted to eliminate.

Today's elimination was different. You were doing this out of anger. Eliminations were being held outside, where a limo was waiting to pick the next three guys up. You were also running elimination. Levi was just tap dancing in the back because yay drama.

"I'm so disappointed," you start. Only a few of the guys could make eye contact with you. "First, I wake up suspecting that one of you is in love with one of my friends.

Eren squirms slightly.

"And two guys aren't even interested in me. One of them is here to 'pay their bills' and the other is doing god knows what.

You look at Porco.

"Finally, I learn that I'm a whore apparently. Thank you, Porco, I'm so glad that you said what you said. You made eliminations very easy. We didn't even have to go on a date. Get your stuff and get out. The same goes for you too, Armin and Nicolo."

The boys don't even turn their heads to look at the three mentioned. Armin, Nicolo, and Porco go inside to grab their stuff. They don't look at anyone either.

"Don't even ask me about the roses. None of y'all are getting anything. None of you are getting the last laugh. Do better," you say before following your recently eliminated inside.

(SPACER I MET THE LIMIT)

CONFESSTIONALS

connie: i had such a great time with y/n. it's such a shame that a few of us pissed her off today.

bertholdt: i regret kissing y/n now. there's nothing wrong with her but see how much drama a kiss caused? i don't even know how connie found out.

armin: i do have my regrets. i didn't know that y/n was going to get that mad.

nicolo: no comment.

porco: oh no, stay out of my business. i'm not answering any questions.

(SPACER)

yeah, that was a lot. anyways, here's the elimination link. i’ll see y'all when I see y'all :)

[gubes-sweaters]

Mind, Body, and Soul 4

Authors note: Sorry for being MIA for a bit. I was going through a lot of things with my family, school, friends, etc. I got in a terrible funk and I had no motivation to write. I’m doing much better now and I’m going to go back to posting regularly. Another thing I know in the show Spencer drives a Volvo, but for this story, he drives a station wagon like mgg.

Content warning: A brief mention of a drug deal and medication and… teeth rotting fluff if that counts.

Word count: 4.6k

You can find part three here

Chapter 4: My Safe Place

I wake up to the smoke alarm going off. It takes me a second to realize what’s going on but as soon as I realize I make a mad dash to the kitchen. In my haste, I slip on the rug in the living room that connects to the kitchen. My morning couldn’t be more chaotic. Both of my roommates are coughing up a lung from the smoke while opening windows and fanning out the area. Turns out that they decided to make breakfast but somehow they can’t even make eggs and toast without almost burning the place down. I quickly gather myself from off of the ground and join Tweedledee and Tweedledum in cleaning up their mess. It takes thirty minutes to clear the smoke and to clean up the kitchen. After all, is said and done I look over at the stove and see that it’s already 9:30.

“Shit shit shit!” I shout while running towards my bathroom trying to get ready. Stella and Raven follow me into the bathroom wondering what I’m freaking out about.

“What’s the freak out for?” Raven says before peeking her head in the bathroom door. I’m already stepping into the shower as they both lean up against the bathroom counter exchanging confused looks.

“I uh forgot... I made plans with Penelope that have been a month in the making.” I stammer out from behind the shower curtain. In my mind, I’m debating telling them what I’m actually up to. Their two of my best friends and we’ve been friends since elementary school. I tell them practically everything, but on the other hand, I enjoy spending time with Spencer without it being a big deal. Of course, my friends would be happy for me but at the same time, they also tend to treat me like a child because I’m a year younger than them and I’m their “innocent” friend. I almost feel like I’d be disappointing them if I break from that title. I love them both so much but I think for now it’s better to keep those parts of my life separate.

“Well tell Pen that we said hi. Oh, and don’t forget about Daisy’s birthday on Saturday.” Stella reminds me before walking off with Raven. Daisy is a girl that Raven and I used to study with our freshman year of college. Raven, Daisy, and I had the same psychology class, and Raven and I clung to her pretty quickly. Raven and Daisy both happened to be going for forensic psychology, but I’m getting my degree in social work, so our sophomore year I didn’t have classes with either of them. My point is I haven’t seen her in two years but Raven and Stella are both close with her still and for some reason Daisy also invited me. I’m not complaining because she was really sweet, and I distinctly remember she was the type of person who showed their love through touch. If you needed a hug she was there, if you needed a shoulder to cry on she was there. I just feel like I’m intruding now because I haven’t seen her in two years and according to my roommates you wouldn’t even recognize her anymore, so I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to talk to her without awkward small talk. I’ll have to worry about that later now I have to worry about being late for a date... an outing. I’m not sure what to call whatever Spencer and I are doing today.

I rush to blow dry my hair, put on a little bit of makeup, I throw on a sublime t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Just as I slip on my vans, I get a text from Spencer.

Spencer (pain in my ass): I’m out front :)

me: okie dokie I’ll be down in a minute!

—————————- Time Skip —————————

We’ve been driving and listening to music in comfortable silence for the past 30 minutes. Soon enough though, we pull in front of a small café. The place seems oddly familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. No matter how many times I asked Spencer he would never tell me where we’re going. He called me boring, yet our first stop is a café. I’m not complaining at all, but it seems a little more mundane than I would expect from Spencer. Either way, I’m excited because I’m seeing him again.

“You ready?” He turns to look at me with a big goofy grin on his face. It’s nice seeing him smile I could get used to seeing it more. No. No. No. Don’t think like that this isn’t a date he’s simply keeping a promise that he made to me. This definitely isn’t a date right?

“Of course, but where are we?” I asked still not sure what I’m walking into. Despite me asking him he doesn’t answer, he just unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car. I follow in his footsteps because I don’t want to look like a dork just mindlessly sitting in his car.

“We’re just popping in for some coffee don’t worry about it.” Spencer says while basically pulling me into this building. As we step in the smell of coffee brewing fills my senses, as I try and take in my surroundings I hear the sounds of cats purring and meowing. I turn my head and see that this isn’t any regular café, it’s a cat café. I remember some of these cats because this is the cat café that has adopted some of the cats from the Humane Society the Pen and I volunteer at. That’s why this place seemed so familiar.

“I asked Penelope what you did in your free time. She mentioned you volunteer and you’re a big animal lover, so I figured this was a fun way to ease you into today’s events.” He turns to me with a smile on his face while we wait in line for coffee.

“This is amazing Spencer. Seriously this is perfect.” As we're waiting in line we watch the cats in the next room over through the large window. We watch as some kittens chase after one another. A couple of the older cats are either sitting on the windowsill purring or sitting in someone’s lap instead of playing like the kittens. As we go to order Spencer insists on paying, after a while I concede. He pulls out a large wad of cash from a money clip, which I wasn’t expecting, I mean I didn’t expect him to be broke, but most college students don’t have that kind of money lying around. Maybe he gets money from his parents, or he happened to have a really good paying job. Instead of being lost my own thoughts and mental gymnastics, I focus on the cats in the room that we’re walking into.

About five minutes later we both get the iced coffees that we ordered. Spencer got enough sugar in his to give somebody a heart attack. With the coffees, we got a small little bag of catnip. A chubby orange cat immediately starts to take a liking to Spencer, the cat is sucking up to him because he’s the one with the catnip. About half an hour later we get ready to leave, but not before I watch Spencer trip more than once over himself while entertaining the cats and inevitably everybody else in the café that started watching. We decide to call it quits before falls, and he cracks his skull open. As we get back into his car he announces now that I’ve dipped my toes in the “fun pool” it’s time to kick it up a notch, but once again he won’t tell me where we’re going.

—————————— Time Skip —————————

I find myself mindlessly tapping my fingers to Kid Cudi, while looking out the window I feel a pair of eyes on me. I turn and see that he’s watching me with a big grin on his face.

“What?” I ask before he shifts his eyes back to the road momentarily.

“Nothing, I’m just lucky to be hanging out with you today. I honestly thought you were going to be sick of me by now.” He confesses, and he looks sad as if he could ever burden me.

“Spencer’s I know it’s only 11:30 and the day just begun, but I don’t think I’ve relaxed and had this much fun in a long time. Don’t think that I’m ever going to get sick of you. I promise that I’m having a really fun time.” I feel like I almost convinced him, but there’s this small little part of his brain that wouldn’t believe me regardless of what I said.

“You say that now, but I’m pretty sure after this you’re gonna hate me.” he says while gesturing to what’s in front of us. As he puts the car in park I look straight forward and see that we’re at a skate park.

“Uh, I don’t know how to skate... like at all.” I say hoping he doesn’t expect much coordination or skill out of me.

“I figured that much. I thought I could teach you, still wanna give it a shot?”

“Why not that’s the whole point of today right?”

“That’s the spirit!” He says before jumping out of his car and quickly grabs a skateboard out of the trunk. He looks like a kid in a candy store while we walk to a section that’s not occupied.

I’m glad I wore vans and jeans because I have a feeling in any other outfit I would have a very unfortunate wardrobe malfunction. He shows me two or three times how to properly kick off without falling. Then he asked me to give it a try or to at least try and find my balance on the board first. As I step on he holds my waist, so I don’t go anywhere, but that doesn’t stop me from wobbling a couple of times in the process.

“Make sure you put your back foot towards the front of the board when kicking off, if not the board will fly out from underneath you. Don’t worry about falling though I got you I promise.” He says while slowly loosening his grip on my waist. I start to learn to push off and eventually with Spencer‘s help I can go a couple of feet before I chicken out.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not going to get it all at once, a lot of people can’t learn how to skate in a matter of hours.” He tries to cheer me up and coax me out of my embarrassment because I’m not fully understanding it.

” Yeah, I think I want to try it all by myself once maybe I’m having trouble because I’m using you as a crutch.” This is where I made my mistake because I got a little too cocky, and instead of getting it like I thought I would I fell. When I fell, I fell hard and I scraped both of my knees. Of course, this would be the day that I wear jeans with rips in the knees. As soon as I hit the ground he booked it towards me, and when he reached me, he crouched down in front of me with his hands on my shoulders searching my face to see if I’m okay.

“Are you okay? You didn’t break any bones, did you? Do you need to go to urgent care?” He asks a couple of ridiculous questions with panic very present in his voice. I’m obviously not hurt that bad, but that doesn’t stop him from freaking out momentarily.

“I’m okay Spence I promise. I only fell off of a skateboard I didn’t get shot.” I say before chuckling, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m glad you’re okay, but you scraped your knee bad. We’re going to have to get that cleaned up, you don’t wanna know how many germs are in that cut now, let alone the various infections that you could get if you leave it alone.” He says before standing up in extending his arm out to me. He collects his board, and we make our way back to his car. We go to a drugstore around the corner, and he runs in to get Band-Aids, alcohol wipes, and Neosporin. Again I insist on paying because this is my fault, but he brushes me off and leaves me in the car. He comes back and asks me to sit on the side of the seat, while he kneels in front of me in the parking lot. He cleans my knees off while reeling off facts either about the products he’s using or about all the germs in my wound. He finishes his nervous ramble by putting a Band-Aid on my knee before placing a gentle kiss on that knee. I blush at the small bit of contact, while he collects all of the products off the ground and puts them back in the plastic bag.

“Change of plans were going to take a small detour. I got a good idea while I was in the store.” He says climbing back into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

“Let me guess I don’t get to know ahead of time just like before,” I asked hoping that he would at least give me a little hint.

“That’s correct.”

It’s 2:10 by the time we arrive at the mall. I have no clue what would make him think of going to a mall and what we're even here for. Either way, it doesn’t stop me from blindly following him right into the mall. For someone who’s a bit of a germaphobe Spencer hasn’t seemed to mind holding my hand everywhere we’ve been today. The first two times I thought he was grabbing my hand, so he could just pull me to whatever activity I had in store for me. This time is different though because as we enter the mall our fingers intertwine together as if it was second nature. He still led me but this time we’re walking side by side. He stopped me very abruptly right in front of a store that I haven’t even seen since I was eight years old.

“Spencer, mind telling me why we’re at a Build-a-Bear?” I ask while we enter the brightly colored store.

“While I was in the drugstore I saw teddy bears and it made me think of this place. Also, we need to kill a little bit of time before we make our last stop of the night.”

Turns out we’re not the only adults who had the same idea as Spencer. Two other couples looked lovingly at each other while making a bear. This seems like a date night activity and not whatever the hell Spencer and I are doing. We end up picking a light brown teddy bear and just about every employee that we came in contact with told us we were a cute couple, but Spencer nor I corrected them. It didn’t seem to bother him so it didn’t bother me either. When it came time to pick out clothes for the bear he insisted that he had “impeccable style”, and he knows what he’s doing.

”Spencer’s you’re wearing a baggy sweater, jeans, converse, and mix-matched socks. I don’t think that your style is peak fashion.”

“Hush you’re ruining my vision.” He jokingly said while staring at the clothing with his thumb and forefinger gripping his chin. We both crack jokes and make fun of each other‘s sense of style before we inevitably end up basically picking the same thing that Spencer is wearing. We dressed the bear in a red sweater, black jeans, converse, and only because Spencer insisted on mix-matched socks. Yes, we did pay for two pairs of socks, so we could mix-match his socks. Spencer finally let me split the cost on something when it came time to pay. After we made our way out of the store with our fingers once again intertwined and our son that Spencer jokingly called the bear in the store. Our poor son doesn’t even have a definite name because he insisted on naming the bear Spencer Jr. or Sativa, but I told him there’s no way I would ever let him name the poor bear Sativa and Spencer Jr. is on the fence. As we’re about to walk out of the mall Spencer gets a call and then three texts in a row. He tells me he’s just gonna wait to open his phone once we're in the car. Once we get in the car, and he checks his phone his face drops.

“Is everything alright?” I ask because of his shift in demeanor.

“Yeah, everything is good I just need to take this call quickly.” He says before stepping out of the car and closing the door.

Spencer’s POV

When I get three texts and a call from my mom‘s doctor saying that there’s a problem my heart automatically sinks. I mean she’s all I have left and my mom is the one person who’s ever been in my life consistently with unconditional love. I call my mom‘s doctor as I step away from the car a couple of feet. I ask what’s the issue and it turns out it’s her treatment, her doctor tells me that because of her recent change in medication as well as the increase in dosage I’m going to have to start paying more for her assisted living. The situation is a lot better than what I was thinking. It’s a minor problem that I can easily solve. After I talk to my mom for a couple of minutes and make sure that she’s doing okay before making my way back to the car. As if my prayers have been answered I had an old friend text me and asked if he could buy two grams of weed off of me. I hurry up and tell him I can meet him right after he gets off work. This way I can kill two birds with one stone because he works at a gas station not too far away. While I am there I can pick up snacks that I’m going to need before we go to our final destination tonight.

Readers POV

Spencer never addressed the phone call when he got back in the car, but instead just turned on music and placed his hand on my thigh. The mood totally changed from calm and relaxed to now very awkward with tension. We only talked for a couple of minutes before it went back into an uncomfortable silence. Something seemed off about Spencer as he told me that we need to go to a gas station before wherever we’re going next. It’s not because I think stopping at a gas station is odd, but it’s because he insisted on this certain one, but he wouldn’t tell me why. He also was digging through a bag in his backseat for a bit before shoving something in his pocket and walking into the store, and as much as I wanted to snoop I didn’t because I respect his privacy. I trust him a lot, probably more than you should trust someone who you haven’t even known for a week, but my mind keeps wondering as I’m sitting in the car alone once more. That’s another thing that I thought was odd because he asked me what I wanted and insisted it was pointless for me to go in as well. He’s also taking a really long time I’m trying to brush it off, but there’s some part of my brain that can’t help it profile his body language and everything he is saying. I try to never profile people because it seems unfair, but having a dad as a profiler that would always profile me every time I saw him made reading people's body language second nature to me.

I’m glad when Spencer returns he seems a lot more happy and relaxed. When he gets back in the car he has a huge smile on his face as he puts the snacks in the backseat. I ignore the change in mood for the second time because it’s probably something he didn’t want me knowing about right now. In the little bit I’ve known Spencer he’s been pretty much an open book, so for him to not share something it must’ve been very personal.

“So we have one more thing planned for today and it’s very special to me. Are you ready?” He asks sounding genuinely happy and finally his normal self.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

————————— Time skip ————————-

Before we get to this secret special location it’s already dark out. Tonight the stars are shining so bright and the sky was so clear. Since I am not even paying tension I don’t realize that we’ve arrived until I hear Spencer turn off the car. He quickly hops out of the car without any explanation whatsoever. I try and take in my surroundings and realize that we must be at some park. I see a few benches, signs leading to different walking trails, and a cute little playground.

“Stay there.” He says while opening the trunk of his car. So, I comply even though I have a feeling this is how dumbasses like me get murdered. He tells me not to look at what he’s doing, so instead, I go on my phone for a bit. He announces that he’s done and I need to come look, so I hop out of his car and see that he’s cleared out his trunk, and collapsed his backseats. He also has a lot of snacks set up with soft pillows and fuzzy blankets. He smiles proudly at me, and all I can do is chuckle because I think this is the absolute sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I tell him thank you while giving him a tight hug.

“You’re welcome.” He says, well rubbing my back with one hand and cradling my head with the other. Before we break from the hug he plans a gentle kiss on the top of my head. After we both crawl in the back and slip under the blankets.

“Do you mind me asking why this place is so special?”

“Well… it’s because I lost my virginity here...” He tried to keep a stoic face before busting out laughing.

“I’m just kidding obviously!” He says before laughing once more. After our laughter died down a bit his face becomes actually serious. He draws in a deep breath to prepare himself for what he’s gonna tell me.

“In all honesty, this place has given me a lot of solace since I’ve moved here. Back home in Vegas I never really fit in much, so I learned to create my own safe space. When I moved out here this park became my new safe space. It’s also really special because I’ve never taken anyone here before. Mostly because that way I could just slip away from everything and no one would know where I’m at, but I also never found an occasion special enough to share something personal like this.” He admits while adverting his attention away from me and more onto his fingers. He fidgets with them as if he were nervous to open up like this, as much as I want to know everything tonight is not the night to push the envelope.

“I’m glad you feel that you could trust me with this. Spencer in all honesty who you seemed to be when I first met you is a complete 180 from who I know now. I love the side of you and I want to see more of it.” I say while taking his hands in mine commanding his attention. When I finish he looks up at me with those sweet puppy dog eyes. He moves his hands from mine and rests one of his palms against the side of my face. He stroked my cheek with his thumb before we start to lean in. He puts his other hand on the side of my face and snakes his fingers into my hair as my eyes flutter shut. I hate saying something cheesy like there were sparks, but that’s the only way I can describe the fire that was lit inside of both of us. He pressed his soft lips to mine and we moved in perfect synchronization as if we’ve done this a million times before. He swipes his tongue across my bottom lip asking for access. I wrap my arms around his waist in attempts to pull him and impossibly closer. As things start to heat up Spencer slows the pace and eventually pulls away entirely. After he presses his forehead to mine as we both pant. He grabs the side of my face with one of his hands once more before moving to grip my chin and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I care about you so much. I get it’s stupid to say because this is all of a sudden, but you’ve brought so much joy into my life and I don’t want you to leave.” He confesses with his hand planted on the side of my face and his other resting on my waist.

“Trust me I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” I promise him.

“Plus splitting up would not be good for our son.” I joked trying to lighten the mood from the serious turn it took.

“Yeah, I don’t need to add child support payments to the list of bills I already pay.” He says before laughing and removing his hand from my face. We talk a bit more and get comfortable under the blankets before he grabs his laptop out of his bag and hands me the snacks I asked for. As we’re falling asleep he says just one word to me.

“Atlas.”

“Huh?” I ask him, trying to keep my eyes open long enough to finish this conversation.

“I just thought it was a cute name, for the bear I mean. In Greek mythology, Atlas was a titan that was called upon by Zeus to carry the heavens on his shoulders. It means the one who bears a heavy burden. I feel overcoming a huge burden or even carrying a burden that you don’t need to makes you strong and courageous.” I can tell that this story meant something to him. Something that I didn’t know about yet.

“It’s perfect.” I say before shutting my eyes as he grips me tighter.

By the time that the credits were rolling, we were both sound asleep in the back of his car. Our arms wrapped around each other and my head on his chest. I fell asleep to the sounds of a small breeze whistling through the trees and the soft thumping of Spencer’s heart.

.

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @haylaansmi​

[iffyswriting]

ICE 2

With my forehead pressed against the wheel of my car, I took three big inhales each one for different unrelenting stresses.

Unwinding after my day made it easier to deal with going inside. Swiping up my phone I checked the time, knowing Daddy was probably waiting up for me.

11:12.

Getting to all my courage, I finally got out of my car and went inside my home, my father being exactly where I expected.

"Where you been?" He asked looking just as worn as me, his body limp in his big green reclining chair.

"I told you, I had practice. " I replied tiredly, dropping my keys into their porcelain pot.

"Janelle-"

"I already know what you're going to say and my legs hurt. Can talk in the morning?" He stared momentarily before waving me off, making my shoulders slump in relief. Walking towards the stairs, he cleared his throat making me turn around.

"You not gon' tell me good night?" Rolling my eyes with a tiny smile, I walked back over and placed a kiss to his cheek telling him I loved him. I walked down the stairs to the basement taking in my space.

Bouncing onto my bed I slid off my shoes my feet aching horribly. I  checked out the heels of my feet sighing at the bruises that lined them. Red and purple, red and purple as usual. I unscrewed the top off of my Vapo rub and swiped it onto my soles, letting it soothe my pain.

Flipping out my phone, I scrolled through it, pulling up some music for me to listen too.

SZA softly poured out of my speaker, Broken Clock's hypnotic beat floating into my ears as I laid down fully, curling up in my covers.I turned my music up a bit, letting it relax me further. I was so sleepy but my eyes wouldn't shut as I looked up at my ceiling tracing shapes with my eyes into my popcorn ceiling.

❄

"I have to be in this next competition," I told my coach, Simone. We either practiced early in the morning or late in the afternoon, to combat with both our schedules.

"What competition?"

"The one at the end of this month," I said in a duh tone. "I know you know about it. "

"And you know I'm going to be in it." She stood still before speaking.

"Do you think you're ready for it?"

"Of course I do!"

"Janelle, they not only judge off of skill but presentation and-" She started off looking everywhere else but at me and I tightened my jaw, my blood beginning to pump faster.

"I can get enough money for a decent costume."

"Can you?"

"I don't pay you to fucking degrade me, Simone." I spoke angrily sitting down on the bench stretching the shoestrings of my skates, tying them up tight.

"You barely pay me at all." I scoffed, snatching my guards off keeping my eyes on the other side of the stands.

"Then quit." She sighed her eyes softening as she looked me over, sitting down next to me.

"You know you'll have to tighten up."

"I will!"

"So that triple axel will be together by then?"

"Yes."

Hours passed and everything stayed the same.

Even with all my trying, all my attempts-I kept falling.  Hitting that ice felt like I was hitting a knife and I was repeatedly getting up just to stab myself all over again.

After my seemingly 100th try, I skated back to the bleachers needing to sit down and breathe. I gripped my seat trying to force the lump in my throat all the way back down, biting back any tears that blurred my vision.

"And you think you're ready." She said smartly, making my stomach twist into more knots.

"I am!"

"But you can't get this crucial part of you're routine together and you wanna throw yourself into an even harder competition!"

"I can do it sometimes!"

"Sometimes isn't guaranteed!"

"It's enough for me to keep going!"

"You're supposed to believe in me!"

"I'll believe when you try harder."

"All I fucking do is try!"

"Okay, Janelle." She brushed her hair back from her forehead and I counted each wrinkle, trying to focus on something else other than my burning anger.

"I think we're done for the day."

"Simone."

"We'll try again tomorrow." She spoke, set in her words. I didn't want to stop her because, at this point, I needed some space away from her.

It's so fucking frustrating.

I keep failing and failing and failing, yet I'm always expected to get back on my feet unscathed and ready for more action. I'm not this resilient person I'm putting on to be and it's becoming harder and harder each day to pretend I am.

Why can't I get it right?

I sniffle softly, my throat becoming tighter and tighter as the minutes ticked on mocking me.

"You not getting on the ice, today, Icey?"

I look back at the deep soothing voice, matching it to a handsome face.

A really handsome face.

He was much taller than me and leaned against the railing of the steps, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. He was clearly freezing, goosebumps running up the side of his arm. I'd become used to the cold, so much it was like a second kind of blanket.

His skin was stark against all the white that surrounded us, a dark brown that reminded me of hot cocoa- the juxtaposition being a beautiful contrast.

"What'd you call me?"

"Icey. I don't know your name, so I just made up a lil something." He paused before licking his bottom lip. "Hope you don't mind."

"I don't. What was your question?"

"Are you not going to get on the ice today?"

"I'm not feeling it right now."

"Damn, I was hoping to watch you." He sounded genuinely disappointed and I was a little shook, starting to chew on my bottom lip.

"You watch me all the time?"

"Not all the time-"He said quickly, kind of flustered, "I just like the way you move and the sounds- I guess you do your thing or whatever." He finished off, studying my features sheepishly.

"I don't know if you're trying to be nice-"

"I'm being honest." Chuckling, I couldn't help but shake my head at him.

"Well, thank you for that. That's the first compliment I've heard about my skating in years."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"If I could get out there and fucking hurl myself across a block of ice every day, everyone would see it and everyone would be respectin' me and my talent."

"You're making it sound so insanely impossible."

"Not everyone can do it. " He paused again slickly starting to smirk. "Not everyone can do it the way you do."

"Stop hyping me up, stranger."

"Amir." He said quickly, his name becoming locked into my head.

"Stop hyping me up then, Amir."

"Well Stranger-"

"Janelle." I said making him let out a breathy laugh.

"Well, Janelle- I'd love it if you tried again."

"I don't know."

"I think your discrediting yourself too much. I know your coach yells at you about how you fuck up on this or mess up on that but- you still look breath-taking. Like a real-life figurine but with passion and grace."

I blinked unsure of what to say or how to feel.  Standing up straight, I leaned on the rail and gave him a small smile.

"Okay, I'll give it another go. Maybe your seeing something I don't."

I stretched to touch my toes then put my arms outward, my pose before I began.

Starting off slowly, I did an easy figure eight, looping in a circle.

I was in the air for a couple of seconds before landing on my feet, my arms in the air as I kept my balance. I couldn't dwell long in my excitement as I launched into a toe loop, spinning the exact way I should.

His straight white teeth were on display as I stood still finished with my performance. He clapped loudly, whistling too as my own grin grew wide on my face.

"I knew you could do it!" He yelled, His support making my heart thump harder in my chest as I bounced up and down in place.

"I don't know what you did but-"

"I didn't do anything that was all you!"

He gave me another thumbs up from the door and then turns on his heels leaving me alone in the great big space.

I didn't know what to think, or how to feel.

Well, I felt good- confident even.

I started to skate again doing the triple axel once more and I wish Simone was here to see it.

See that I could do it.

He made me think about why I loved skating so much, why I had to keep this dream alive.

When I was younger, I used to spend a lot of time at my Grandma's house.

I didn't realize at the time it was because my father was unstable and he struggled to make things better for our little family.

At GiGi's house you could never expect but so many channels but on satellite, there was this one channel where figure skating was played regularly.

Little Janelle was captivated- it was the only thing that could keep me quiet because it was so beautiful and pristine. Princesses dancing on my screen, twirling on the ice in their gorgeous costumes and slicked up hair-dos.

None of these girls looked like me and I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to become someone

I expected my daddy to treat my dream as unrealistic but I didn't expect him to be as dismissive of it as he was.

When you're little you think that you can do anything and when you're supported in that, you keep aiming for stars beyond your reach.

My dad never had that philosophy. Aim for easy goals makes failure and heartache, not an option, so life goes smoother and you feel more settled.

I told him I wanted to be an Ice Skater and he told me I could clean the ice. I'd have an even better chance of working at the concessions.

You can only teach what you know, so I couldn't even be mad.

No matter what- I have to skate. I don't know if we've all got our destiny determined for us before we're born but I know that this one thing, I was always meant to do.

I know it's just a stupid sport but it's my passion and when you're so passionate about something you're willing to put your heart on the line consistently to see it through, you can't just abandon it when shit hits the fan.

Even when I fuck up, it's like I did it. I got a chance to fly even for seconds all on my own and when I come back down from my high still standing, it's a rush I refuse to let go of. When I succeed it only gives me more reassurance to keep going, never stop because there's a chance you're going to make it and people are going to know your name.

So no matter the circumstances, I gotta push as far as this skating shit will take me.

Because its the closet thing to a dream, I've ever wanted to be real.

@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @chaneajoyyy @bakarilennox @domdollass

[pbandjesse]

Welp I dropped my phone and lost my entire post. That sucks. Lemme try again. 

Like every one of these trips, I am sad it's the last night. It's been such a nice time. And today was beautiful. But I am sad to go home. 

I slept alright last night. I had a lot of anxiety which made me stay awake listening to podcasts for a long time. But every noise put me on edge. And i think a deer walked past our tent at one point. Plus it was just a little busier last night and we don't have as much privacy so every light the gods past lights up our tent. I had to stop myself from opening the window at everything to see what was going on. I also didn't have enough service to mindlessly scroll in Pinterest or Instagram and i had to many layers on and was overly warm. Eventually i took off two of my sweatshirts and was able to sleep. 

I woke up when James did to use the bathroom. I put one of my sweatshirts back on for the trek. And when i got back slept soundly doe a few more hours. 

Our air mattress did a lot better last night too. Plus the extra insulation of the blanket under our sleep in bags helped kept me more comfortable. 

I woke up at 730 and my phone and battery pack had died. James was making a fire. And i told him i was going to go shower. And once i figure out how to make the shower hot it was excellent. The shower was pretty new and very clean. The hot water felt amazing and i was able to comfortably wash my hair. Which helped me feel a lot better. Less itchy. Because for whatever reason, every little change in climate makes my psoriasis go crazy. 

James made us pancakes for breakfast. We shared a bowl of cereal. And then we made a plan. 

We had talked about biking or hiking. And i looked at things on my phone and we realized we were only a half hour or so from Assateague. Which is my favorite so we elected to go there. 

We had some issues with the bike rack. But besides that it was a nice drive out. 

We didn't realize that the island is not just a state park, but a national one! So we paid the car fee and headed in. 

I was so excited when we saw a pony. When we had come to the other side of the island for my birthday we only saw them from very far away. But now they were right in front of me. It was so exciting. We saw 12 in the couple hours we were there and it was exciting every time. 

We did some biking. Some beach walking. Spme she'll collecting. 

The whole place was beautiful. The ocean was so nice. The sand is very soft. The water was very foamy and attacked James and got his shoe wet. But it was just super fun. 

We did hike a small trail. We got to see the camp grounds that I hope to stay at next year. The plants reminded me of California. Some being very strange and dry. It was just a lot of fun. 

We took a lob bike ride to a different part of the beach. And sat and ate sandwiches and apples and watched the water. I felt a lot of love. I felt really happy. 

On the bike back to the park i declared i wanted to see one more pony. And i did! And i got an excellent shot with my instant camera. And then when we got.. Back to the car there were 5 more in the parking lot. It was great. I honestly had a blast. 

But i was also tired. We had biked about 6 miles. So we got everything together and headed back to camp. 

Once we were settled back here James went and got a shower. I skate boarded around our loop of camp sites. And the ate chips. 

We eventually took a walk over to the river and saw the weirdest dogwood tree formations. And collected sticks for our last fire. It was fun. 

We got back here and James build a fire. We had some food mishaps. Burnt bread mostly. Bit we had dinner and played cards games and laughed and started packing things in for the possible rain coming tonight. 

The sun went down as we were eating. But it's still been nice and cozy. James made me hot chocolate. He put more air in the air mattress. I remade the bed. We've been a really good team. And it feels good to be able to say that. I feel very loved when we work well together. 

And now we're laying in our tent. We pulled it more under the canopy, along with everything else, just in case. But we're cozy. Enjoying the last embers of the fire. And soon we'll go to sleep early. 

Tomorrow we'll pack up. We might do one more hike and stop in one more town. But we'll be home before the sun goes down I'm sure. I'm excited to see sweetp. Lane has been sending us pictures and I miss his sweet face. 

I hope we all sleep easy tonight. Be safe. Take care of each other. I'll get this posted asap!!! 

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Skating on Thin Ice - Chapter 3 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Elijah Ellis

The next few days of tryouts blurred together and it was finally Friday, the day I would find out if I made the team.

Tryouts went well throughout the week.

I didn't think I had done anything to hurt my chances for getting on the team, though I did have to suffer through glares from Fox the entire week.

Trevor was standing at my locker by the time I had showed up.

He leaned his right shoulder against it, looking down at his phone in his hand.

"What's up?" I asked as I approached him.

Trevor instantly looked up from his cell-phone when he heard me.

"Hey, Elijah," he greeted me kindly.

"I was just wondering if you needed a ride to my house tonight."

I shrugged, opening my locker.

"I can probably get my dad or Joshua to drive me."

I saw Trevor nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Okay, just let me know if you need me to pick you up. See you at lunch."

With that, Trevor walked away, greeting people he passed in the hall.

Trevor seemed to know everybody at this school and everyone seemed to like him.

He was just one of those people that was impossible to hate.

Soon after, the warning bell rang and I scurried down the hall to my English class.

I kept my head down as I found my seat beside Nadia, who was texting on her cell-phone and completely ignoring her pouting girlfriend beside her.

"What are you two fighting about now?" I dared to ask.

I wasn't usually interested in their drama at all, but for some reason, I was intrigued.

"Nothing," Nadia replied, not bothering to look up from her phone.

"Lexa is just being a bitch."

I turned to Lexa to see her roll her eyes, the pout momentarily leaving her face.

I raised my eyebrows at her, waiting to hear her side of the story.

"She's mad at me because she asked for my opinion on a dress she wanted to buy and I told her it made her look frumpy," Lexa explained, her eyes traveling to her girlfriend as she spoke.

"Frumpy?" I asked confusedly.

What the hell was frumpy?

"It was too baggy. It didn't show off her body! I was being honest," Lexa defended herself, placing a hand on her chest.

Nadia just ignored her, continuing to stare down at her phone.

Instead of worsening the situation, I decided to pull out my notebook and pencil for English and leave the two girls alone to deal with their problem.

Nadia would be over it by lunch time.

The two of them fought about unimportant things so often, I grew accustomed to how their fights tended to pan out.

With about twenty minutes left in class, our teacher had us start doing our homework and even allowing us to work in groups.

However, I wasn't excited to be working in a group with Nadia and Lexa while they weren't getting along.

I hoped I would be able to just work by myself.

"Hey, Ellis," a voice from behind me called out.

I turned to look and see that the voice was Ryan, who was sitting with some other guys from the hockey team, including Fox Ridley.

Fox's glare was set on Ryan as he waved me over to their group.

I looked over at Nadia and Lexa and the three of us shared confused expressions.

"I won't get mad at you for leaving us if you send me a picture of the homework later," Nadia told me and that was enough for me to get up and head to the back of the classroom where I was being summoned.

Anything was better than dealing with the feuding girlfriends, even being glared at by Fox.

Ryan stood up and pulled a chair for me and placed it beside him.

I thanked him and sat down, feeling the stares of the rest of the group.

"I figured since we're teammates now, we should get to know each other," Ryan said, though he seemed to be addressing the whole group.

"I don't even know if I'm on the team yet," I replied, looking across the desk at Fox who was leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed on his chest, looking at me through hooded eyes.

Even though he was looking at me like he wanted me to evaporate into thin air, I couldn't take my eyes off of him for a moment.

Fox was insanely handsome and he knew it.

That was why I hooked up with him over the summer.

His brown hair was tastefully messy on top of his head, complemented by his tan skin.

He wore a charcoal grey champion crew neck with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

Fox's face was void of any noticeable blemishes and his eyelashes were long enough for any girl to be jealous of them.

That man was all sorts of good looking and I hated him for it.

"Coach put the final roster on his door this morning. You didn't see it?" Ryan said, tearing me from my thoughts and causing my gaze to travel to him.

"Oh, no I didn't," I answered in a surprised voice.

I tried my best to hide my excitement but I couldn't tell how well it worked.

It felt good to not have to worry about making the team anymore.

I guess Fox didn't hate me enough to keep me off the team.

Ryan introduced me to the other guys in the group, Ian and Jude, who were also on the hockey team.

Ian barely spared me a glance but Jude was about as friendly as Ryan.

I found out that Ian was another defenseman on the team.

'Great,' I thought.

The guy seemed to hate me as much as Fox did and there was a possibility he would be my defensive partner on the ice.

"You got plans tonight, Elijah?" Jude asked me, nudging my arm with his elbow.

"You should come hang out with us tonight," Ryan added to which Fox sent him daggers.

Fox hadn't said a word since I sat down.

"I have plans," I said, looking straight at Fox.

His eyes immediately softened when he heard me and he turned his gaze to me.

"You're already so popular," Jude joked with a laugh.

"What're you doin'?"

At first I didn't know if I should tell him the truth.

My sexuality was obviously more accepted here than it was at Holy Trinity but these were jocks.

Jocks always had something to say about gay people.

They definitely knew I was gay but I didn't know if it was such a good idea to bring attention to it, especially around Fox.

When I looked to Fox to see his glare transfixed on me, I decided I didn't care.

I was done hiding who I was.

"I'm hangin' with some of the GSA kids at Trevor's," I answered, turning to face Jude.

"Nice," Jude replied.

"Trevor's a cool guy."

It didn't surprise me that he had something nice to say about Trevor.

I was sure everyone did.

"He saved my ass in chemistry last year," Ryan said with a laugh.

"I was failing and he offered to tutor me. I passed with a B."

"You'll have to hang with us some other time then," Jude said to me.

I nodded in agreement.

"Sure thing."

Soon after, the bell signaling the end of class sounded.

The five of us immediately packed up our things and headed toward the classroom door.

"See you at practice, Ellis," Ryan said with a wave, walking off with Fox.

[pbandjesse]

Im real tired. I somehow lost the last hour. Just laying here. I am going to try to go to bed very soon.

I did not sleep well last night. I just couldn't turn my brain off. I think I fell asleep around 2. So getting up at 8 when my alarm went off was not going to happen.

I sort of half slept until 10. A little before 10. I got up and took a shower. I tried to not feel miserable. I had really wanted to work in my studio but I just couldn't shake it off.

I had a small breakfast. And I packed a lunch. I mostly just hung out on the couch. And then I decided I would just go to work. I left the house at 11. And got the bus pretty quickly. I was at the school by 11:30.

I spent my time there making some posters with our daily schedule and with some jobs. I made a whole new system which ended up working out really well and the kids seem to very much respond to. I did some cleaning and organizing. I'm mad at a few of the kids pieces that had accidentally gotten left behind. It was a nice morning.

Fitsum came around 1 and I got a little annoyed because he had made a lesson plan and just didn't send it to me for whatever reason. So even though I wrote one I wasn't going to argue. I'll just save it for later. But then Tiffany talk to him and we are going to possibly be switching teachers. I'm going to stay with 4th grade and fitsum might be moving too 5th. While Liz will stay with 5th and Mister Dee will come to 4th grade with me. That could go either way. I like Dee. I'm just hoping that it'll be a positive change for everyone. We'll see what happens.

But today would be the same. I went and collected the kids and then we went over our new rules and we made a class agreement and it was really good. They were really responding to us and being very respectful today. It felt pretty awesome.

We went out to recess and was cold out but I have some nice conversations with the kids. Couple of them confided in me about how they knew I would listen to them. And it was really nice.

Dinner was fine. They had french fries and they let me get some french fries too. So that was exciting. The kids cleaned up the tables and then we headed to the classroom to do art.

We decided that on our schedule 3:45 to 4 would be quiet instruction time. And only gets stuck to that basically. There was a little complaining and grumbling. About when we would start actually making art. But I think being consistent with the schedule is going to help them with some of the behavior issues that we tend to come across.

And having the 45 minutes of solid art time really seemed to work for them. They never really seemed to get bored in it. And even the ones that finished a little too fast I was able to redirect them a bit. We just drew and it was really good.

Cleanup could have gone smoother. My new system for who's in charge of cleaning up what got a little Askew. I think it's just going to be repetition of explaining what the cleaning groups me in. But in general it went really well and I'm very happy with how today went.

I took the kids to pick up. And there was a couple issues because one of my students had a watch it went missing. And the mom was saying that the kids were thieves and all the stuff and I promised I would shake them down tomorrow. And then 20 minutes later she comes back because they were halfway home and my students covered the watch was in his pocket. Which is what I said. That it was probably in his backpack or something. But whatever. And then we spent the next hour and change hanging their work for the show next week.

Honestly it all looks great. Me and fitsum we're basically done hanging all of our stuff at around a quarter to seven. So after some fussing with the tape and putting sculptures in the case in the hallway we headed home.

I got in the door right at 7. I that sweet pea and I have a sandwich. And then I messed around with my 1998 Furbys. I put batteries in Pascal, the baby oh, and he has the sweetest voice. He's calls me Mama and giggles and sings. His ears move which I was excited about. And I was hoping that he would communicate with Pongo but she was having issues turning on. So I had to do some vinegar wipe Downs of her battery pack to get her to turn on and then because she doesn't talk they didn't really communicate. But that's okay.Lil John will not turn on. I think I have to take the skin off and manually restart the motor. Because she's in a down position and not sleeping position? At least that's what my research has shown. I still don't feel completely comfortable doing that but we'll see what happens. I might try that on Saturday when I have the day off.

I played with those for a while and then watch the video. At 8 I went down to the basement to work on some art finally. I traced all of the watercolor flowers I have made and cut them all out. And I'm very pleased with how they look. Talking to Jess I think a tentative plan is that we're going to do one wreath a month. So this will be a much smaller scale project. But I want to be able to spend more time on the research and the sketching and all of the parts that go behind this project. So this one will be for the month of January even though it's mostly done at this point. I want to get some more research done for one's going forward and not rush. And if I can make more than one a month that's fine. But Jess is also doing it actual Hands-On part and she works differently than me. So I don't want to rush her either. Or make her feel like it's homework. It's supposed to be a fun thing.

I went and checked the mail and the Magnetic eyelashes I had purchased came. They are very silly. I cut them in half because I felt like they were too long. And it's definitely a look. Maybe for like a special event or something but I can't imagine actually wearing them for more than an hour or so. It's a very bizarre product.

I've been laying in bed for a while now though. Trying to get this post done trying not to be distracted by sweet pea. I really just want to get some sleep.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to wake up and work on some art again. Maybe clean something. Teaching all afternoon. Finishing hanging up our art. And then I'm supposed to have dinner with James. I have Friday and Saturday off. We were going to go to DC to go to the National Gallery on Friday but the government is still shut down. So I probably am not going to see that Rachel Whitehead show. But that's okay. I think we're going to try to do something else on Friday and then we might go ice skating. I hope it's just a nice day what's my favorite guy. Sleep well everyone. Stay warm.