#hes incredibly gay for his best friend and also the most homophobic man ive ever seen

[sharlaynyans]

being a mike wheeler enjoyer but a will byers defender is gods toughest battle and brother i am NOT his strongest soldier

[the-art-of-styles]

Ping-Pong

✧ Aylin and Harry go out to sell some jams and come back to a disaster in one of their homes.

Word count: 1783

Warnings: short mention of eating disorder/disordered eating/calories

Part I

Part II (you’re here!)

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

14

   Mrs. Mendes is an old woman, she has lines of love around her eyes and lips that show how happy she was throughout her life, also on her forehead, showing how she was amazed by even the tiniest things that were introduced to her.

   She has lived her entire life in the village, and everyone knows her for her exquisite blackberry jams. Aylin's mom used to buy her 2 mason jars every month for her daughter to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, until Aylin was 10 years old and she stopped.

   "No more, Aylin, you've been gaining a lot of weight. A lot of calories, few wasted."

   Those words had consequences, at the tough and young age of 11, Aylin entered a diet low in carbs and fats, where she lost a lot of weight, but from so much restriction, she began a cycle of sometimes bingeing where she couldn't stop to eat for all that she could not taste.

   For all that she could not live.

   At just eleven.

Eleven years old.

   Already at twelve she had somewhat overcome her eating disorder, according to her mother, she was still a bit chubby, but Aylin was always a strong woman, and when she looked in the mirror she wondered, what was so bad about not being thin?

   She loved food, and didn't think about going back to that hell she went through for months. Fuck the diet.

   Mrs. Mendes walked through the only green park in town until she sat down on a yellow bench and took out of her bag some bread crumbs to give to the pigeons that were listening to human affairs. Aylin was walking her dog, Luna, she has no breed and she rescued her from the street when she was about to be run over. Well, she didn't rescue her, a man who had the necklace of a moon saved her and gave her to Aylin as she witnessed all of it (crying). He did not live there and didn't have the time or the space to have a pet, so there she is, walking her new best friend until she sees the old woman and her heart warms and a smile emanates from her lips.

   "Mrs. Mendes!" She screamed and began to jog with Luna until she reached the old woman, she looked at her and her eyes narrowed at her smile.

   "Oh Aylin dear, you look so big!"

   "Yep, I'm 5'1 now, almost 5'2! Isn't that incredible? I'm going to be so big."

   "I'm sure you will honey. Who's that?"

   After Aylin told her the whole story, the two talked about different things while feeding crumbs to the pigeons who listened attentively to their conversation.

   "Hey darling, you know I sell jams right?" Mrs. Mendes suddenly said, making Aylin look at her smiling.

   "Of course! The most exquisite in the whole town!"

   The woman smiled flattered, "Oh cut it. . . Anyways, in my house I have many done, raspberry, blackberry—"

   "I love the blackberry one!" The little interrupted without thinking, instantly embarrassed to do so. "Sorry. . . continue."

   Mrs. Mendes just laughed, "It doesn't matter. Well, uh, what was I saying? Ah! Yes! So, I don't have a way to sell them, you know, I'm an old lady and I can't go from house to house delivering so I was wondering if you—"

   "Oh god! Can I go deliver the jams? It would be amazing! I would wear white and I would go with a brown basket that I have on my bike and– Ah!" Aylin squealed with excitement, "I could go with Harry! He's my friend, even though he lied to me. . . but I already forgave him, the Smiths adopted him, the house across from mine. Oh yeah, can I, please?"

   Mrs. Mendes got confused every time she spoke to Aylin, she always talked a lot and very fast and changed the subject all the time, but she liked her, she liked that she was fast and not slow, it made her feel young.

   If only that speed so characteristic of hers had remained.

   "Yes, darling, you can. And I'd like to meet this Harry boy."

   "Oh, you'll love him! I love him, he's my best friend."

.

.

.

   "No."

   "Pleaseeeeeeeee!"

   "I really don't feel like selling jams."

   "But it's so nice! People will be so happy! And you'd meet so many people from this town. Harryyyyyy!"

   Harry sometimes feels very exasperated when he’s with Aylin. She always tries to involve him in things of the town; recreational activities, meetings, whatever, but even though the Smiths have kept him and a part of him begins to really believe that this family will be forever, he can't help but not want to get too fond of living there because at this point he doesn't think his heart could bear to bleed in pain once more.

   But anyway, he likes that Aylin is like that, so persistent with him since it's not something that he has lived in his life, they always get bored of him and never look for him, he is the one doing it, but now he is different and the feeling that brings him makes him fall asleep at night.

   Puppy eyes. "Please, Harry?"

   He just rolled his eyes, irritated with himself because he knew exactly what the next word would be that would slide off his tongue in a harsh way, but she would eat it anyway. "Fine."

   She squealed, he groaned.

.

.

.

   "Thank you so much, kids. I missed this jams, and say thank you for my part to Mrs. Mendes, ya?" A woman in her forties with black hair waved them off at the door of her house, exchanging the money for the jams.

   "We sure will! See you!"

   They have been selling since twelve in the morning, now the sky was burning and the clouds too, the cold was beginning to descend and there were fewer and fewer people in the streets and more in their homes. The treetops danced to the sweet whispers of the wind, Aylin joining them on the empty streets.

   "Wasn't that so fun?! We selled everything, we should get into business when we grow up, don't you think, H?"

   "Yeah sure," he replied sarcastically. Aylin always notices the comments that Harry makes and when some are real and when they are not, she is not stupid, she just ignores them because she knows that deep down he must like part of the things they do, because otherwise, he would have left her long ago. Besides, that makes her feel better, she doesn't like to think that she bores people, especially when she knows that it is something real, something that has been said to her face.

   Honestly, Harry must admit that it wasn't a total torture. Hearing Aylin talk so much is fun to him, she always has an opinion on something, and she is always in awe of things that she sees every day.

   Actually, Harry likes Aylin. Not in a romantic way, he knows about feelings and everything, he even knows about porn, but he has never seen her that way and he doesn't think he will ever see her like that. It's not that she's not pretty, he finds her quite cute, but it's just a friendship for him.

   His first friendship.

   As they turned to get to the street where their houses are, the two noticed the great fight in one of them.

   Harry stopped walking, and Aylin kept doing it.

   Her mother was throwing an open suitcase on the head of her father, who fell to the ground and began to pick up his things at full speed while she insulted him.

   At that point, Aylin started running.

   "Mum! Dad! What – what is going on?!" She squealed in concern, walking over to her dad and squatting next to him to make sure he's okay. "Why do you have a suitcase? Where are you going?"

   "He'll go fuck his assistant, that's for sure!" The mother screamed with hatred, regardless of the language she spoke in front of two children or whoever was listening (and there were several people).

   "His assistant? But, what? Mr. Gomez?" Aylin asked extremely confused with her eyebrows furrowing.

   "Exactly." She spit out to her husband and turned around on her own heels, dragging her feet into the house and slamming the door that almost made the whole town rumble.

   "D-dad?" Aylin asked with her eyes swimming in a sea of tears, but she didn't allow her cheeks to turn into rivers.

   "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am." The father composed himself and stood up, giving his daughter a long kiss on the forehead and then walking with suitcase in hand and head down, like the end of a movie where there is a climax where you think everything will be fine but in the outcome it all goes to shit and they lose everything.

   "Wha– Where are you–" She sighed, her father far enough away not to hear her, "...going." She whispered, feeling a crack form in her heart that hurt like a hundred stabs dipped in the hottest lava of the worst hell.

   Harry was at a safe distance, but he heard everything and saw everything as did some neighbors looking out in their windows to feed the curious cat without risking death. He understood everything and had a knot in his stomach from seeing his friend without life in her eyes, and being so painfully slow.

   What a plot twist. He was gay. The dad, of course.

   Aylin sat dejectedly on the edge of the sidewalk, staring at the grayish of the street without knowing what she was thinking about. She is always thinking, she is always saying something, but now there is nothing in her mind, white paint fell on the canvas and there are no more available brushes to paint on top of it.

   The curly boy did not know what to do, he is not a person of a lot of words, and besides, what do you say to someone in a situation like this? "I'm sorry your dad is gay." Sounds a bit homophobic. So he chose to approach slowly as he usually does, he has always been slow, and although sometimes Aylin is exasperated that he sees everything and does everything in slow motion, deep down he conveyed a certain tranquility that she could not create by herself. Harry sat next to her and rubbed her back.

   He didn't knew if she was crying or not, but he wasn't going to ask anything either, so he just sat with her while she hurt.

   And he wished that swiftness of hers had never gone away.