#my mom wants to spend a weekend in Palm Springs this summer

[wolfstrong]

I feel like I’m never going to have a life again, I’ll just be stuck working until I die. And no matter how hard I work, I feel like I’ll never be able to afford a house or a nice vacation or anything like that. Like what there really to hope for in the future. I’m not getting any younger

[atinylittlepain]

Summer Lovin

joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

she thought he was all hers. she was wrong. but revenge is always sweet, and a little melted.

warnings | 18+ smut, serious angst, Joel is a cheater in this one and gets what he deserves (within reason)

a/n | i don't have an explanation for this one, it just sorta happened, sorry about it.

...............................

Her hands are shaking all over the steering wheel, enough to force her into pulling off the highway before the tears can fracture her vision anymore. And all she can do is laugh, a bitter thing in her throat, because she’s turned into a complete cliche now. Idling on the shoulder of the road while the texas sun splits and sinks in the sky, crying like a fool over a man she shouldn’t have given the time of day to.

But he had been so sweet, hadn’t he? A bit hopeless when they met, standing in the frozen food aisle, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and cradling a cellphone to his ear with the other. She had made an offhanded comment that he seemed to be negotiating a hostage crisis when he hung up, a sheepish smile slanting across his face and a surprisingly earnest explanation that his twelve-year-old daughter had just gotten her first period and he had been screamed out the door for provisions.

“Don’t tell her I told you that though. Pretty sure she’d burst my eardrums for letting that slip.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. But could you use some help maybe?”

“I look that pitiful, huh?”

“Maybe just a little.” 

She was gone from the start, helping him pick out Ben and Jerry's and tampax pearls while he rambled about his daughter. Her smile spreading in sync with the flush creeping up his neck, typing her number into his phone while he leaned against the side of his truck, a nervous palm rubbing the back of his neck. He called her that night, cute and eager, wanting to thank her for the help, and to ask her out. And of course she said yes. Afterall, she had checked for a wedding ring. She thought she had been so clever for that. 

Three months, spring sliding into summer and something she thought was love slipping big and bright between her ribs. She got to know his daughter during weeknight dinners on their back porch, inside jokes zinging right over his head. And while Sarah was at her mom’s every weekend, Joel would invite her over and they’d spend the hours tangled up in his bed, bodies sticky and slick with sweat blown cool by the box fan in his window, talking in circles around each other, promises stamped into skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin. We’re as good as divorced. She’s just dragging her feet signing the papers, that’s all. Haven’t lived together since Sarah was real little. I’m all yours.”

“It’s okay, Joel, I understand. It must be so hard, though, having to do all of this on your own, in a way.”

She scoffs at the sting of that memory, the way his palm had been trailing up and down her spine, the sigh he had let out at her words. She had interpreted it as a soulful weariness that only made her love him a little more. But there were warning signs too.

“Hey, darlin, I’m really sorry but I have to cancel tonight.” She was already pulling into his neighborhood when he called, new dress, the perfume he liked so much, a tray of brownies in the passenger seat, sprinkled with powdered sugar, how she knew Sarah liked them.

“Oh, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think Sarah picked up a stomach bug at camp today is all.”

“Oh no, can I get you guys anything from the store? Soup? Ginger ale?” 

“That’s real sweet of you, darlin, but I don’t want you to catch anything. Can we take a raincheck though?” What a good father, what a good man. 

“Of course, Joel. Tell Sarah I hope she starts feeling better soon.” He had already hung up, quick and clipped. And when she drove past his house only a moment later, she could have sworn she saw Sarah in their backyard swinging on that old playset of hers. It had been easy enough to write off as a trick of the light and her eyes tired after a day of work. Though she couldn’t figure out whose car had been parked in his driveway, not his and not his brother’s. But he made good on his raincheck that Friday, showing up at her apartment in that button-down she liked so much and a bouquet in his hand, not letting her get a word in before he was pulling her into a hard kiss that made her forget to even ask if Sarah was feeling better. He was always good at that, pulling her apart, just a little overwhelming in the wander of his hands, his mouth, laying her down right on the floor of her tiny living room after kicking her front door shut.

“Missed you so bad. Been thinking about you all week. Thinking about this pussy. How sweet she gets for me. Just for me, huh?” Already mouthing at her clit through the cotton of her panties, his words thrumming up her spine, making her hips jolt in the heavy hold of his palms. 

“Yes, Joel, it’s all for you, fuck, you’re so good.” So, so, so good, stripping her down and settling back between her thighs, tongue dragging through her cunt, a hum in his throat as he held the insistent heat of his mouth against her core, pulling pleasure from her like he owned it. The ropes of muscle in his forearm jumping, holding her down by her pelvis, not letting up until she was shaking with it, his scruff scraping against the inside of her thigh, a small mercy in the kiss he pressed there. 

“Are we seriously about to fuck on the floor?”

“What’s wrong with the floor?”

“Joel.” Total theatrics with the roll of his eyes, a petulant huff as he got up, dragging her along with him. a fumbling tangle into her bedroom, making her laugh with his feigned meanness in throwing them down onto the sheets, wide eyes and breathless beats.

“That better, darlin?” No answer, too busy tugging him out of his clothes, his cock solid and warm against her thigh. Always a stretch, pleasure mingling and mixing up with pain with the press of his hips against hers. Always careful, considerate, pressing kisses to her sternum while she opened up around him, whispering into her skin.

“Feel so good for me, darlin. Like you were made just for me.” She felt like it too, like she’d never had anything like this before. The obscene slap of slicked skin, swallowing each other’s gasps as he pushed and pulled them through a hard rhythm. Her ankles hooked around his hips, open, wanting, receiving everything he gave her, the both of them sinking their teeth into each other’s pleasure, furling up close and unraveling all at once with each other’s names held in their throats. She had told him she loved him that night, in the after of it all, her chest pressed to his back, limbs tangled up. But he didn’t respond, already asleep.

Her cell phone ringing startles her out of the past, but when she sees who it is she tosses it back into the passenger seat. And her mind settles into something like disbelief, replaying the day. How differently it began compared to how it ended. 

She woke up that morning with anticipation thick in her stomach for what the day ahead would bring. She thought it was a big step, the step, inviting her to a family cookout. Playing house with the Millers. Sarah and her in the kitchen most of the morning, crockpots bubbling and watermelons split while he and his brother putzed around in the backyard with the grill, some frivolous joke about men regressing to the stone age lobbed out easy and effortless. And then people started coming, coworkers and friends and all the rest and Joel wouldn’t look at her and she wore her new sundress so he would but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t and she worried over the potato salad and the kebabs like maybe she could make right whatever she had clearly made wrong. Something about a man’s heart in his stomach, right? 

Everyone else eating and she couldn’t find him in the crowd, Tommy telling her he ran out to get ice cream from the HEB for dessert just as she slipped in the front door. She nearly laughed because why was she here? Who invites their ex-wife to a family cookout? 

And then, and then, and then.

“You must be the babysitter Joel mentioned. I admit I thought Sarah was a little too old for that but she absolutely loves you so thank you for helping out.”

And then, and then, and then.

“Hi, Tommy! It’s good to see you.”

And then, and then, and then.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? We’ve decided to make another go of it after some time off. We haven’t told Sarah yet, but I think it will be good for all of us.”

And then.

“-- a family again. It’s right, don’t you think?”

And then.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was? I hope Joel is paying you well, and if he’s not, you come to me, okay? There’s gonna be some changes around here, but I’d love for you to stay on for our Sarah.” 

And then.

Out the door, white noise in her ears so loud she only barely thought to grab her keys and shuffle into her flip flops. Out the door and into her car and driving to the same HEB she met him in three months ago being a good father and a good man and a little hopeless and–

She pulled in right as he was walking out of the store, a placid expression on his face, not a care in the world. 

“Darlin? What–”

“Do not call me that.”

“What, what is it? Baby, please don’t cry.” A sick feeling in her stomach at the pull toward him, that tiny want for him to comfort her, to make it all better, quickly seared and singed into more anger.

“Were you gonna tell me, Joel? Or were you just gonna see how long you could keep this little game going, huh? Is that it? You think you’re so smart? Not gonna get caught fucking the babysitter?” Instant recognition sliding down his face, the quick slip of it made her laugh as his eyes darted around the parking lot.

“Let’s talk like adults, okay? There’s no need to make a scene.”

“Oh, fuck you. That’s what you're worried about though, right? That someone’s gonna see. Worried someone’s gonna go tell your wife what you’ve been up to all summer, huh?” His jaw slack, an answer in his silence. She shook her head, anger simmering beneath the hurt.

“Did you care about me at all?”

“Of course I did, I do. Darlin, please, I just got confused, let me–”

“Don’t do that.”

“Please, I’ll–”

“No, Joel. We are done, do you understand me? I care about Sarah too much to let any of this go on any longer. You know what? I just hope that your wife has a good enough head to figure it out for herself. I hope she leaves you, I really do.” Hurt crumpled across his face and she wanted more of it, wanted to dig her thumb into it and twist.

“I– loved– you– you– fucking– lying– lowlife– bastard.” She’s not sure how it happened, though it would be the topic of conversation at the neighborhood women’s book club for weeks to come. Some young thing tearing into Joel Miller, smacking him six ways to Sunday with her flip flop in the grocery store parking lot. Cornering him against the side of his pickup truck, big strong man curled up with his hands over his head as she rained down perfect hellfire on him. He had dropped his grocery bag, two gallon containers of ice cream sweating out in the summer sun, her bare foot stepping sticky into a puddle of vanilla. 

“Don’t you ever do anything like this to anyone ever again, Joel Miller.” The grand finale, that ice cream of his melted enough that it was too easy to pick up a carton, pop off the lid, and dump the dribbling liquid over the top of his head before primly shoving her flip flop back on and getting in her car. 

She finds herself laughing through a throat heavy with snot, the image of him in her mind, blinking hard through a thick stream of slurried ice cream, shoulders up to his ears, pure shock in his shudder. 

“Worth it.” One thing that goes right today, she leans over to rummage through her glove compartment, sighing when she finds the nearly empty carton of cigarettes, lighter tucked into the crumpled box. She quit two months ago, secondhand smoke around Sarah and all that. But how easy it is now to roll down her window and take a crackling drag that she blows out into the fading afternoon, smoke whipped away by the endless whir of cars passing by. Peace in the inhale and exhale, promptly disrupted by her phone ringing again. Cigarette dangling between her lips, she scoffs between her teeth. Ten missed calls. She doesn’t even listen to the voicemails, simply chucks the thing out her window along with her cigarette butt and shifts her car back into drive.

She’ll be okay.

[eremiie]

karma;

❥ 16k words | nsfw | eren x fem!reader

❥ content - eren eats reader out,, eren also fucks reader ;)

❥ you don’t care much for eren’s fuckboy habits until he fucks over your friend, and you’re left to deal with the consequences. and eren’s left to deal with a revelation neither of you saw coming

this is based off the song karma by summer walker, so feel free to take a listen!

"i just don't get it— like how foul could you be? if he didn't like me that's all he had to say, not play me like i'm some dummy,"

"historia," you stopped her ramble with a sigh, lifting your hand up as a gesture to say 'stop'.

"i told you, you should've just got with me." ymir snorted, throwing her hand around historia's shoulder, the blonde pouting, her eyebrows furrowing.

you place a hand on historia's lower back and gave her a condescending look. "i told you that you shouldn't mess with him, i wasn't trying to be dramatic or anything when i said that— i know eren... i gave you a heads up and you ignored it."

historia rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. "i didn't ignore it, i just... thought it'd be different."

you scrunched your face up and pinched the bridge of your nose. "why exactly did you think it would be different?"

"instead of giving historia shit, _____," ymir emphasized your name, squinting her eyes at you. "why can't i just rock him? a good punch to the face is maybe just what he needs—"

"ymir, punching him will not solve anything. plus, i doubt historia wants you to punch him either."

"she can speak for herself, idiot. historia, my love, would you like me to knock eren out?"

historia sighed. "no, i don't want anyone to get knocked out. this is so confusing... and not to interfere with your friendship or anything but how can you just go hang out with him right after?"

you looked down at historia, removing your hand from her back and giving her a raise of your eyebrow, looking forward to wear the three of you were headed. you were going to hang out with eren; he was your closest friend who you met in middle school, and now shared a dorm with. it was finally spring break, and as his bestfriend you were invited to spend some time with him and his family for the vacation. eren had you pack bags for the weekend and wanted you to meet him in the front of the building, so that's where your feet were taking you while you conversed with your friends you met on your way. "historia, i said i told you not to fuck with him, what happens between you and eren doesn't have anything to do with me." historia frowned at you and looked down at her crossed arms and you felt a small sense of guilt curdling in your stomach. "i'll talk to him though."

"right now? cause he's right there." ymir said using her head to tilt towards the benches once she pushed the large doors to the outside open. you looked up and ymir was right, from a distance was eren standing up next to a shag of blonde hair and two other people that you couldn't identify as they weren't facing you. almost on cue, eren looked up, head whipping to your figure and a small smirk creeped up on his face until his eyes landed on the two next to you, that smirk dissipating almost just as fast, and him quickly averting eye contact, mumbling something that caused the rest of his acquaintances to turn their heads around. you shook your head and patted historia's shoulder noticing she was glaring at eren, but not as hard as ymir.

"yes, now... uh, i'll catch you guys later." you said waving off to them. "don't worry too much about him historia." and with that you began walking off towards eren. you studied his appearance, hair lazily threw back into his signature messy bun while stray pieces shied away from it. he wore a simple grey sweatshirt with black sweatpants to complete the lazy look, white sneakers on his feet, and when you trailed your eyes back to his face a boyish smile was present.

"hey." eren said simply, arms stretched out to pull you into a warm hug that you reciprocated, your arms wrapping around his midsection as he snuggled you into him, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"hey, eren." you cheesed, pulling back to wave to the rest of the group. "eren's brother," you watched zeke chuckle from where he was seated. you used your finger to point to yelena after, "yelena, pieck and porco!"

"i'm assuming you know my name and you're just being a fool." zeke announced, making you giggle and place your hand on top of his blonde locks. although you didn't see the upperclassmen much, you had no problem remembering their names, especially zeke and pieck as you saw them the most.

"right, of course i know your name, zeke." you smiled. "but what's the gathering about eren?" you motioned to the clutter of people, looking towards eren who's eyes were already on you.

zeke was faster than eren, answering the question before him causing eren to narrow his eyes at his older brother. "eren, my favorite brother here wants to take my car to see his mom and my dad."

you laughed at his words, the enunciation on the last part of his sentence making eren's eye twitch. "first of all i'm your only brother." eren said, rolling his eyes.

"and you guys share the same dad." you grinned as zeke nodded his head at your clarification, another burst of laughter being let out by you and pieck who shook her head at zeke's antics.

"hi, _____, it's been a while since i've seen you." pieck said, waving her hand as well, her head laid down against the surface below her.

"hey, pieck," you slid down onto the bench taking a seat beside her, porco's hand snaking around her back instinctively. "yeah it has, but that's because you're a year above me." pieck chuckled and nodded her head.

"precisely..." she hummed, moving a strand of raven black hair out of her face, eyes trained in the direction ymir and historia walked off. "who were the girls giving eren the dirty eye?"

your eyes followed pieck's. "oh, historia... and ymir." of course, her out of everyone would notice that. you silently praised pieck for being so observant. you looked up at eren to see him avoiding your gaze, his bouncing left to right.

"what did eren do this time?" zeke asked you, propping his head up on his palm as if he was genuinely interested in the conversation, although you were sure it was just to make fun of eren. pieck gave a confused look, her eyebrows coming together as she glanced between the brothers and you.

"more like what did the girls do to eren." yelena said calmly, a bored expression present on her face, her arms crossed leaning forward on the table.

you averted your stare at eren and propped your arms up on the table like yelena. "well, the blonde girl likes eren and they were talking or something, and um... he was messing with some one else at the same time. she's not happy about that, even though i told her not to mess with him."

"so what i'm hearing is it's her fault for messing with him after you told her not to? lesson learned." yelena scoffed, her large eyes portraying a mocking sorrowful expression.

eren shifted uncomfortably at the new eyes on him, letting out an exasperated sigh. "listen,"

"eren, you really can't defend yourself here." zeke cut him off, eyes widening to poke at eren's expense.

"i didn't know she liked me!" eren blurted out, hands flying out from his sides.

"so your brother's a dumbass too?" porco snorted, eren glaring at him with a huff, crossing his arms back.

"pock—" pieck started, being cut off by eren's rising tone.

"i'm not kidding, i didn't know!"

"so you didn't know a girl who you fucked and kept texting you after had feelings for you?" your retort was quick, head inching forward as your eyes narrowed at eren as if he was dumb causing eren to glare at you too, his lips in a thin line at your statement before placing his hand out for zeke to place the keys in his hand.

"okay, whatever, let's go."

"someone's upset." pieck added before placing her hand on your shoulder. "bye, _____, see you at the club tonight?"

"club?" your ears perked. oh, the club. as well as vacation for spring break, majority of your first and second years decided to takeover a club not too far from campus before people left off for their families. you had already packed a dress for the event when you packed your bags last night alongside eren. the event had just slipped your mind. "oh, yeah, yeah. if eren still want's to go."

zeke slapped the keys in eren's hand, you getting up from the bench with a wave to the remaining three, going to stand beside eren. zeke stood up as well, bringing you into a suffocating hug, his beard grazing your forehead before pulling back with a pat to your shoulder. "well, see you. tell miss carla i said hello because eren won't."

you smiled at zeke before eren grabbed your hand with his free one, giving it a small tug. "don't worry, i will zeke."

with a small "c'mon," from eren, he began pulling you away, you trailing after the boy until the two of you reached zeke's parked car. "you really need to get your own car." you murmured to eren as he opened the back door for you to throw your bag in, alongside his, then the passengers side before walking around to the drivers.

"nah, zeke's is good for now." eren slid into the driver's seat, adjusting the chair before starting the car, giving you a one over to make sure you were comfortable, noticing the way your face shriveled up at the smell of the car. "smells like cigarretes?" he asked you, a small smile upturning on his face, his expression almost softening.

you turned your head towards him with a reciprocating smile at his observation. "yeah, but it's okay. your mom's house isn't too far anyways." eren pulled out of the parking lot, letting your last statement resonate in the air while he watched for cars behind him, hand on the back of the head of your seat, brows furrowed in concentration while you opened up your phone, scrolling through your socials. you noticed the party tonight was the talk of today, almost everyone of your mutuals on your feed talking about it. it didn't sound too bad, and you didn't mind going either, getting to see your friends was enjoyable. "so we're going to that party?"

eren's eyes shot to your face from the rear view mirror, lingering for a little before going back to the road ahead. "as long as you want too— i mean, i want to. why? you don't have something to wear? i thought we packed last night."

"dummy, i'm just confirming with you. i have something to wear, you literally watched me pick out my clothes."

eren stayed silent for a couple minutes while beginning to grin at you unconsciously. "yeah, i saw it, the dress. i was gonna say you could borrow one of my moms if you didn't have one." he joked, looking to you to watch you give him a raise of your brow and an upturn of your lip.

"you're such an idiot." you looked back down to your phone to switch apps. "who's gonna be there that i know? i know sasha will probably go, i haven't seen her lately."

"me." eren said matter of factly, not even looking your way for a reaction.

you rolled your eyes, hitting him on the shoulder lightly. "i'm serious."

"im serious too."

"eren!" you whined his name, his look fixing on you again at the sound of his name before shifting away just as quickly.

"you know, the usual... sasha will probably be there, armin probably wants to see annie or something... connie... maybe jean, or reiner or whatever."

"or whatever." you mocked eren, lowering your tone to try to get his voice spot on, causing him to slap your thigh hard, you yelping and dropping your phone to rub at the abused spot, your leer shooting daggers at eren. "i'm telling carla when we get there."

eren only laughed, bringing his hand back to your thigh and moving your hand to soothe the supple skin with a flitting rub while you pouted at him. "she'd hurt me if i hurt you."

"you did!" your voice raising slightly, hand moving his away but not before pinching the skin on top causing him to hiss.

"sorry." his hand returned to your hand sitting on your leg, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance while he studied your face just in case you had a negative reaction.

you let his palm linger, the feeling almost comforting, and... and what? you couldn't pinpoint it, but for the majority of the rest of the ride, his hand stayed until he had no choice but to remove it when steering. a sense of anxiousness was relieved when he did, but you couldn't figure out why.

                                 彡

"go inside, i'll get our bags, my mom will be happy to see you." eren said, signaling to his front door with your hand, and you nodded walking to the small house. a sense of nostalgia was washed over you. you vaguely remembered coming over to eren's house so often and spending so much time with him, mikasa and armin. of course, mikasa being so busy with her own studies could only visit so much, but there were many times she came back to visit alongside you and eren, armin occasionally visiting as well although he had family to go back to as well. you and eren constantly did almost everything together, from indulging in video games he used to side eye you for wanting to play with him, to helping his mom in the kitchen with a grumble from eren, to getting into heated arguments and having to sit on the couch with carla since eren would kick you out of his room, only to be scolded by carla only minutes later. it was all enjoyable memories, even the arguments, and thank goodness to the closeness of the college to eren's old house. you were able to visit and relive those memories so often, a sense of warmth washing over you each and every time.

not only were you thankful for the proximity of carla's house, but you were thankful for her constant efforts to keep you and eren close. she was the one who suggested requesting a shared dorm, the one who constantly asked eren to bring you over, the one that never failed to ask about you every time she called eren. if you and eren ever lost your bond she'd be the first to know.

you walked up the steps, the door already unlocked as carla anticipated your arrival. as soon as you opened the door the significant scent of linen and apple flooded your nose, along with whatever she was cooking up. the mass of carla's dark hair was in your line of sight once you turned your head to the side, her body stood in front of the stove, and she whipped her own head around hazel eyes almost bulging out there head when she spotted your figure at the front door. "_____!" she exclaimed, immediately dropping the pan she was holding back onto the stove and rushing to you, embracing you in a loving hug. "my baby, i missed you so much! eren brought you!"

and eren, always on time stepped in behind you, his tall figure towering over you and his mom with two bags in his hand.

"and my real baby, oh i missed you both so much." carla pulled away giving you chaste kisses on side of your face, her long eyelashes fluttering against your skin as she cradled your jaw with her nimble fingers. her apron decorated around her waist smelled of fresh cooking, but her perfume lingered as well giving off a haze of peppermint.

she moved towards eren, her hands cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek as well, moving her fingers to tug on his ear playfully before drifting down to his shoulder, patting his chest then pulling the bags out of his hand. "mom—" eren murmured, twisting his face at his mom's protectiveness as she dragged the bags out of his hand, going over to place them beside the staircase before coming back over, hands clasped in front of her guests.

"no, you just came, no need to try to put stuff away yet." carla said with a cheery smile, still elated at the arrival of the two of you. "i'm so glad you're here, i just finished cooking so let's all sit and eat before you try to do anything else." she began walking back towards the pan she left on the stove, head turned back with a knowing look at eren who would try to go put the bags upstairs. "come sit." and you and eren made your way to the round dining table, four seats present, yet only three would be filled.

"where's dad?" eren asked as he sat down, pulling the chair out for you first while you fiddled with your fingers, watching carla plate the lunch she prepared.

carla's movements slowed as she sat in thought for a couple seconds. "oh... he's at work, like always you know." eren looked down, nodding his head.

"so how's school going?" carla asked, heading over to place down a bowl. "chicken pasta salad, it's good, eat." she used her head to motion towards the food.

"it's going good, luckily i don't have that heavy of a workload like others, it's bearable, but of course still hard." you replied, as she brought over plates and cutlery, setting them down in front of eren and you, both of you immediately scooping some pasta onto your plates.

"and you, eren?"

"it's fine, mom."

"how about football? is that going good?"

"yeah, it's good too." you winced at eren's lack of effort in the conversation, hitting his elbow with your own, him giving you a confused expression before he placed his full fork in his mouth.

"zeke told me to tell you hi." you told carla as she came to sit in front of the two of you, plating her own food, eyes widening at the mention of zeke's name.

"really?"

"yeah."

"well then how's zeke doing too then?"

"i don't know, i don't see him much, eren could probably tell you." you gave eren the opportunity to talk, looking at him to cue him to say something while you took another forkful of the pasta.

"he's probably fine too, i don't see him much either." eren replied with a shrug of his shoulders, picking at his food, and you sighed.

"how's sharing a dorm going? i hope eren's not too much, i know he can be a ruckus."

"it's good too, he's a better roommate than i thought he'd be at first." you let out a small laugh, remembering eren's old antics, how messy his room used to be, the dark green of his walls and the miscellaneous decorations he used to have sprung around. you couldn't wait to go upstairs and check that out again. "he's still a little messy—"

"but she always nags me to clean up so that doesn't matter." eren cut you off before you could attempt to compliment him and you rolled your eyes.

"i wasn't gonna say anything bad. yeah he cleans up a little more now but i always have to pick up a sock or something. plus, i'm the one who has to clean up before someone comes to visit. like mikasa or armin or something." you chose not to mention the countless girls that'd come in and out too.

carla pursed her lips looking up at eren with a slightly disappointed look. "you always have to keep your workspace and your room clean, eren. especially in the presence of others, i didn't tell you that all the time for no reason."

"i know, i know, mom."

"no you don't because if you did you'd keep your area clean in respect for ______." carla placed more of her food in her mouth with a shake of her head before moving her failing ponytail to her back from her shoulder, then looking up at you. her doe eyes were just like eren's, he was the spitting image of her and it's one reason why you could never forget her face. "how's mikasa and armin?"

"they're good too, mikasa couldn't come this time, she has too much going on i guess— but she's fine!" a slight moment of worry crossed carla's face, eyebrows turning up and lips frowning as she twirled her fork in the food in front of her.

"hopefully she can come next time, tell her to relax. poor girl, always has so much on her plate. i remember when she used to be here she constantly had to do eren's chores for him, what a doll."

eren scratched his head, looking down at his almost empty plate. "i did work too, she didn't do everything for me."

carla ignored eren's add on."and armin?"

eren answered before you could. "he's good too."

"i hope so, he's such a sweet boy." carla hummed. "so how long are you guys staying? and how long's your break?"

"only a week, we'll be here for this weekend cause zeke is gonna need his car back." your plate was almost finished as well, fork scraping against the ceramic.

"yeah, but later today we're heading back up to go to a party." eren said nonchalantly, eyeing his fork as he spun it in his hand.

"i hope that's okay with you— if you don't want us to go we don't have to." you hastily added in consideration for carla, eren's green eyes narrowing at you with a small frown. he clearly wanted to have some fun tonight.

"no, no! that's perfectly fine, you'll be here for the whole weekend, i'll let you kids have your fun." carla smiled. "i'm just glad you came earlier than waiting until after the party cause i know you'll get back late and i'll probably be sleeping. who's birthday is it?"

"it's not a birthday." eren stuffed the last of his food in his mouth, chewing before continuing. "just a spring break party before everyone goes home."

"oh? so that's what you do in college nowadays?" carla laughed, peering at eren's plate, content that he finished his food. you joined her in laughing, ushering yourself to finish up as well, knowing eren might get impatient with your pace at eating.

"i guess. there are parties all the time. but how have you been?"

carla beamed at your asking. "i'm good! nothing much, i wait for grisha to come home, although i'm usually just here alone. i have my hobbies though, i'm fine. i've been trying to make friends with the neighbors too, they have some younger kids that are enjoyable." as you listened to carla you finished your food as well, her getting up to gather the empty plates and take them to the sink. "thank you for asking, _____. eren, honey can you put the top on the pasta and put it in the fridge? i'll make dinner later just in case you want something else when you get home tonight."

eren pushed his seat back, standing up to do as his mom said, wandering towards the fridge. "that's fine, we should just give you a break, we'll eat the pasta again when we get back, you can just relax, right eren?" you said, watching carla and eren maneuver around the kitchen while you got up to wash your hands at the sink beside carla.

"yeah that's cool too. you don't have to cook mom."

carla pouted endearingly at the two of you with an "awe," leaving her lips. "the two of you are so sweet. i'll clean up, you can go upstairs now." and with that you and eren left her to her own devices, eren grabbing the bags at the stairs and almost pushing you up the stairs.

"that was good, i'm full." you sighed, as you walked beside eren down the hall until he opened the door to his old room. the walls were still a muddy green, a decision you're sure he probably regret now. miscellaneous posters decorated his wall, an oak desk sat idle in the corner of his room beside a collection of simple books. his bed was made, navy comforter sprawled out on the bed and plump pillows sitting pretty. his bed was big enough for the two of you to share, but carla always asked if you wanted to sleep in mikasa's room when you came. you always declined. "look at your certificates." you pointed to the certificates framed on the wall as eren set the bags down on the floor beside his desk.

"shut up." eren grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards his bed until you collapsed onto it beside him. “'m tired." he groaned, his face down into the cover below him, arm slumped over your waist where you laid. you were going to pester eren about his situation with historia, but you decided to leave him alone for the time being.

"you can take a nap before we leave."

eren turned his head to the side so his cheek was smushed against the bed instead, looking at your form, your head pointed towards the ceiling. "you wanna take one with me?"

you faced eren, giving him a stank face before poking his cheek. "just cause you're tired doesn't mean i am. i'll lay here though, i'll wake you up when we should start getting ready." you slipped your phone out of your pocket to check the time. "you have until like five thirty-ish. it's four."

eren squeezed your side, that same anxious feeling rising as he did so, pulling you a little closer, eyes shutting. "take a nap with me."

"no."

"c'mon."

"eren, i'm not tired." he opened his eyes again, piercing green blue hues staring at you head on. he removed his arm from around you, picking his head up and scooting up to his pillow, now facing away from you with a huff. "whatever, i'll wake you up later." he didn't respond, and around fifteen minutes after, once he was asleep you got up from the bed.

shuffling downstairs, you turned the corner to the living room, seeing carla seated on the couch watching tv. "hi, mrs. carla." you said lowly, her head turning back fast as usual, and simpering when she saw your face.

"you're okay?" her hand moved to find the remote, turning down the volume on the tv as you came to sit beside her. her soft hand found yours, grasping it. "enjoying the stay so far, right?"

"of course. eren's sleeping so i wanted to keep you some company."

"that's too sweet of you. he's doing fine too, right?"

"yeah, probably just tired from staying up all night. he was up pretty late yesterday." you reminisced on the small argument you had with eren just the previous night before, you pestering him about his reluctance to sleep, him making you irritable being on the phone with who knows in the dead of the night.

carla nods her head in understanding. "so tell me more about the party."

you look up to the ceiling in thought as she rubbed your knuckles. "well, eren wants to go more than me. i wouldn't have minded staying here if he wanted too, but i guess he wants to see some people."

'hm, are you going to see some people?" she wiggled her shoulders in a taunting manner, and you chuckled in response.

"nope, just gonna chill."

"well... don't get too drunk or anything. i want my babies safe...” she looked at you with large eyes, curiousity present on her face. “are you seeing someone?" she asked abruptly.

you were slightly caught off-guard by the question, but were a little glad carla felt so comfortable basking in your private life. "we won't, don't worry. but um, no i'm not."

"i see... is eren? anything he's not telling me?" you pondered, not wanting to tell too much about eren's own personal relationships despite it being his mom. i mean— would you want someone telling your mom about you breaking girls hearts? you decided to enlighten her a little bit, make her feel like she was somewhat apart of eren's romantic life.

"he doesn't tell me much either, to be honest. i guess he's just trying his luck with girls. he has no problem catching their attention anyways, so i don't think you have to worry much about that."

carla looked at you, an unreadable expression visible on her face through the small moment of silence. she let go of your hand, putting hers back in her lap. "i'm glad you know it too." she half joked, looking to her lap. "... trying his luck?"

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, letting your hand come up to scratch at your jaw. "something like that... i don't know, he's just doing his own thing."

carla's eyes darted back and forth between you and her legs, trying to find something to say, mouth opening and closing every time she thought she had came up with the right words. "_____, i really like you, and enjoy your presence you know. you're really great to eren, i appreciate that. i want you to keep looking out for him, i want the best for him. whatever he has going on, help him figure it out, be the best version of himself as possible."

your words were so vague but you felt like she saw right through them. her words were so vague and you had trouble deciphering them.

"... of course, yeah, i'm looking out for him, he's my bestfriend."

"yeah... that's also true." carla sighed, and you hope she didn't notice the confusion that crossed your face for a brief moment.

saving you from the slightly awkward silence, carla turned the volume up on the television, the two of you sitting and watching whatever was present on screen.

soon enough, eren's foot steps were heard, both you and carla turning your head to see eren standing at the bottom of the steps, and irritated tired look on his face. he rubbed at his eyes, moving away some of the stray hairs in his face before slapping his palm back down to his thigh.

"what are you doing?" his voice was rumbly and deep from sleep, tone impatient.

"talking to your mom?" your response was more of a question, carla patting your thigh for you to get up.

"its six thirteen."

"i left my phone upstairs with you, grumpy." you glanced to carla. "he's always like this when he wakes up."

"i can recall." a chuckle left her lips as she shooed you away. "the two of you can get ready."

so you followed eren back upstairs, toeing behind him until you got to his room. you scurried to get your attire and products from your bag, and with your belongings in hand, you went off to the bathroom to get ready and give eren his own privacy.

soon enough you were dressed and freshened up. your strapped blush silk dress adorned with ruches up the side hugged every curve of yours, while your hair sat pretty. you sighed in content, grabbing your perfume bottle and spritzing yourself, the smell of vanilla engulfing your senses. you looked at yourself in the mirror appreciating the way you looked, your lips glossed, and your earrings dangled just above your shoulders.

from the mirror view you could see eren come in behind you, his eyes trailing down your body from your reflection in the mirror. you didn't bother facing him, only stepping slightly to the side to take a look at him as well, a plain black shirt on his upper half, accompanied by black jeans as well, and some sneakers. his pendant hung in his hand, gold watch to match on his left wrist. of course, he never did much to his hair, as it was still pulled back in the same ponytail from before his nap.

"sit down on the toilet." eren side eyed you before sitting on the lid of the toilet, you coming up in front of him to pull the hair tie out of his hair. "your hair's a mess, and i'll put the necklace on."

surprisingly, no complaints from eren arose, he sat quiet as you carded your fingers through his brown locks, pulling his hair back into a neater bun, flyaways still decorating his face in a more purposeful manner. hair tickled the back of his hair as well, but you liked the messy look. you grabbed the pendant from his rough hands, unclasping the back before putting it around his neck, him leaning forward to give you a better angle while he stared down at your feet. "better."

eren looked over you from where he sat on the toilet seat, a calm face present. "aren't you gonna get cold? or your feet might hurt." he pointed to your white heels detailed with clear.

"i'll be fine," you dusted his shoulder before he stood up, once again towering over you, seemingly more intimidating now that he stood straight up. "i have a jacket that i'll put in the car."

you and eren made your way back downstairs, your jacket and phone now in hand, eren likewise. carla practically gasped at the sight of you two, her eyes growing like saucers at your attire. "you guys look so cute!" she came over, taking your hands into hers. "all grownup."

"mom..." eren exasperated, grabbing your wrist to pull you more towards the front door, away from carla.

"eren, it's okay," you pulled out of his grip, turning back towards her. "thank you so much."

carla smiled, heading towards eren. "and my handsome boy," she swiped at his shirt, making sure there were no dust particles on it much like you had did earlier, then tugging at the key pendant on his neck, straightening the necklace. "you guys be safe, i love you."

eren placed his hand over his mom's, moving it down from the chain and back into her own vicinity. "yeah, love you too." his hand made a 'come on' gesture, and with a tilt of his head, you were following him again. "let's go."

                                       彡

"eren, wait." he didn't hear you, still making his way around the crowd of bodies, annoyance creeping up in your veins as you tried to keep up with him. "eren!" still, no response, only him still moving forward making you groan in annoyance. you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, and let them land on the bar next to you. "hitch!" you called out, her and the blonde next to her turning towards the sound of her name being called, who you soon recognized as annie.

hitch waved you over excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat at the sight of you. you made your way over, sitting beside her as she pulled you into a tight hug. "____, hey! didn't really think you'd be here."

"why not?" you hummed, bartender looking your way to see if you would hint that you wanted a drink.

"not sure, i just thought you'd be chilling in your room right about now. i was just telling annie about some boys, there's a lot of cute ones here if you want to get some."

"i'm good." you peered down at her drink, clear liquid detailed with greenery, a lime sitting on the side of the glass. "what are you drinking?"

"a mojito," hitch wiggled her eyebrows as she recalled the drink in a sing song voice. "wanna try it?" she pushed it towards your lips. you shrugged your shoulders sipping at her straw without a care. the drink stung a bit, your face twisting as you shook your head.

"i'll just get a martini. what's annie drinking?"

"dunno, probably water." hitch moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, glancing at the clear liquid in front of annie. "oh, yeah. like i was saying..." her voice trailed off to you as you began to talk to the bartender, ordering yourself a martini.

you sipped on your drink, only half listening to hitch. every time she tried to confirm that you were listening by going "right, _____?" you would nod your head even if you couldn't remember the last thing she said.

"_____, _____!" a familiar raspy voice was calling your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. you, hitch and annie once again looked towards the source of the sound, sasha's hand outstretched in your direction as she came forward, dragging along connie. "hey, you're here!"

you shot sasha a smile, putting down your drink and embracing her into a side hug, waving at connie as well. "hey, sash! yeah, how'd you know?"

"i went to go find connie so he could buy me a drink, and i saw eren and asked if you were here too. he said you didn't know where you were though, but what a coincidence." sasha made herself comfortable in the seat beside you, connie staying standing as there were no more seats to the left of sasha. "what's that?" she pulled your martini forward, putting it to her lips with no hesitance, beaming at the taste. "this, what's this?"

you laughed at sasha's antics, her presence making the event at hand all the more better, you missed hanging out with her, only having night classes with her the semester before. "it's a martini."

"yeah, connie, get me this!" connie let out a sigh and went to the other side of the bar where there was seating to comfortably order and wait for sasha’s drink. "he's so nice, i literally forgot my wallet, and that would've been so tragic if they had some good food here." sasha hummed, reluctantly pushing your drink back over in front of you. "how long have you been here?"

"not for long," you responded, taking another sip of your drink. "maybe like thirty minutes or so, eren left me like as soon as we got here so i've just been sitting with hitch and annie." you gestured to the girls beside you, hitch engaging annie in more conversation who almost forcibly listened, seeming to care less, although hitch told her anyways, getting the occasional nod from the blonde.

"oh, i've been here for like an hour now, i met this really cute boy. i don't know his name but he's blonde, and cute, like really cute." she clasped her hands together at the thought of the boy. "i danced with him, he was so nice, i need to find him again tonight." when connie returned with her drink she thanked him profusely, hugging his arm dramatically before letting him go so he could return to his other friends, waving off to you once more.

"well, find out his name maybe."

"i had it, i just forgot!" she pondered. "i think it started with an m, or an n or something, i don't know." you laughed again, taking another drink of the beverage in front of you ice basically being left in the glass, sasha beginning to drink hers as well. "you should come out to the floor and dance, it's literally so fun. plus, everyone else would probably wanna see you. historia is here! jean is too, and like— some other people."

"are you gonna finish your drink first?" you had no problem going out to dance, although you rather just watch from the outside.

"i'll take it with me. is that a yes? c'mon!" sasha exclaimed, picking her drink off the table and pulling you from your seat. you and sasha made your way through the surplus of bodies until you felt the surface under your heels change. you didn't see anyone you knew but you were sure sasha did as she perked up then looking back at you. "there's the boy, look!" you followed her direction of sight a boy with a middle part, blonde strands flopping at the sides of his forehead. he was cute for sasha, and the joy that glowed on her face made you smile.

you truly did miss her, and the excitement she brought into your own life, coercing you to go out to eat with her, begging to come over after classes despite it being night, and pushing you to attend parties and events.

"can i go over to him?" sasha begged, tightening her hold on your arm before making puppy dog eyes. "look," and with her finger she pointed towards a connie, him speaking while moving back and forth to the song playing loudly, music filling your ears. "connie is over there, i'll take you over." you sighed but couldn't help but cast a smile at her, her hickory ponytail bouncing as she took you over to connie.

connie was in the midst of talking to jean, who you recognized right off the bat, his ash brown hair scaping his neck, eyebrows lifting when he saw you approach with your friend. "connie— and jean, hey, jean. look who's here." connie glanced at you, then to sasha.

"i saw her earlier." he said, pausing from talking, his movements slowing. "but, hey again, _____." connie punched your shoulder lightly in a joking manner.

"well, i didn't," jean's hand rested on his chest as he spoke before pulling you into a hug moving the drink in his hand to the side as he did so, cheesing at you. "hey, _____. when did you get here?"

"when eren got here, if you've seen him."

jean's smile disappeared, an "oh," leaving his mouth blankly. "you look nice. how's everything?"

you stepped forward, closer to jean and connie as sasha left your side to go talk to the mystery boy. you grinned at the compliment, showing your appreciation. "thanks... i'm good, how about you?" you only really heard about jean through eren and sasha, also seeing him around campus more often than not. he was good company for the times you've been around him, but you and mikasa had to constantly get him out of scuffles with eren although they were pretty good friends.

"good, that's good. i'm good too. you're just now getting on the floor?"

"yeah, thanks to sasha. why? you wanna dance with me or something?" you joked, nudging jean's shoulder, earning a small laugh from connie as well that you could barely hear.

"jean you better watch it, this my girl." connie interrupted playfully, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you closer in spite of jean. jean glared at connie before letting his drink run down his throat again, adam's apple bobbing.

"yeah, yeah, _____, wanna dance?" you complied, connie letting go of you and off to do his own thing as you came more up to jean, moving side to side with him as you mouthed the lyrics to the song. you relished in your movements, being able to loosen up and just dance, jean fluently following your movements as well, frequently mumbling the lyrics he knew. when granted you turned around letting your back hit jean's chest, his lip upturning as he looked down at you, watching you do your own thing. his free hand came down to your side to hold you in place as you danced, feeling the song playing. he studied your face from what he could see, noticing how carefree and relaxed you look. "looks like you needed a night out." he said loudly so you could hear.

"i guess. it's just nice to be able to see all of you at once, just letting myself live a little, especially since i don't get out a lot."

"you really don't. you should talk to sash more, have her bring you to some more parties or something like you used to always come to."

you bent over slightly, only so that you were no longer pressed flush against jean, letting your rear grind against him a bit. "you miss me? you can invite me out too you know, just depends if i'm feeling it that day or not."

"so you're asking me to text you more?" jean took your movements lightly, hand still resting at your side, his own body surprisingly cool albeit your actions, continuing to drink the beverage at hand.

you snorted picking yourself back up and adjusting your dress, swaying your hips once more. "jean kirschstein; always a flirt." jean and you both laughed, and he tapped your hip before gesturing towards the bar.

"you know it— but, i'm gonna get a refill, you enjoy yourself." jean began walking away, pep in his step and you chuckled to yourself, standing around until you took it upon yourself to find someone else you knew.

you walked slowly, looking for a familiar face, sasha almost nowhere to be found. you contemplated going back to the bar to sit down with hitch and annie again, or go converse with jean again, but you spotted armin wandering around almost aimlessly in the crowd as well, your face lighting up at the sight. "armin!" you called out, and thank goodness for his sharp ears, the blonde turning around almost immediately at the sound of his name. his smile was large and he came over,

"______!"

you brought armin into a side hug, a funny look on your face. "armin, hey. you looking for someone?" you asked, referring to his walking around just seconds before you called for him. the blonde scratched the back of his neck, nodding his head with a nervous laugh. "yeah, um... annie, i was looking for annie." your mouth dropped into an 'o', eyebrows lifting up in surprise. you remember eren foreshadowing that armin would be there for annie, and it made you giggle.

"annie?" you smirked, watching his eyes dart around the club, avoiding your eyes. "well, i think she's at the bar talking to hitch. want me to come with?" you weren't planning on grabbing another drink, as you could already feel some of the alcohol buzzing through, but you of course weren't drunk, and you needed it to stay that way.

you felt a hard slap of a hand on your shoulder, whipping your head back to see sasha all bugged eye standing behind you, a concerned expression crossing your face. armin, noticing the drift of your attention gave a curt nod. "no, it's fine, i'll find her." then walking off in the direction of the small bar.

"_____, guess what, guess what!" sasha exclaimed, turning you around by your shoulder, her cheeks high from smiling hard, face flushed from the countless drinks you assumed she must've had since you saw her, another one present in her hand as you spoke. you could only wonder who bought her it.

"hi, yes sash, what's up?"

"the guy— he's literally so cute, and guess what!" she repeated, eager to have you try to guess her next statement.

"um what? you got his number?"

she profusely shook her head, bangs whipping back and forth as she stabled herself on your shoulder, pulling down the dress she was wearing before leaning into your ear. "he can cook too, he told me he's a chef, i mean can you believe that? i don't even know if i want to take him home." she giggled before pulling away, eyes going up to the ceiling in thought. "i should probably get his number too, shouldn't i?"

"well if you're not gonna take him home then you should probably get that now."

"oh, no," her hand paused on your chest while she took a swig of the alcohol in hand. "i'm taking him home for sure, i just got to get the number too, he's so sweet!"

sasha's energy was a lot, her eyes darting around once more. "look, eren's coming over," she pointed with her drink behind you and you turned back to indeed see eren heading over to the two of you, his eyes pointed down at his feet as he watched his step around the excess bodies of sweaty people clashing around him, careful not to step on any feet. "i'm gonna go use the bathroom because i really have to pee, then i'm gonna get his number, ok?" sasha said, you saying an "okay," as she stumbled away to find the bathrooms.

just as she stepped away, eren stepped forward, him placing his hand on your lower back to push you more towards him and get you away from other people. "hey," he said in a louder tone for you to hear.

"hey." your feet moved with eren's as you noticed he was side stepping in an effort to dance less awkwardly, making you hold back a laugh.

"are you enjoying the party?"

"yeah, its nice. i've seen a lot of people so far."

eren peered down at you, eyeing you with another indecipherable look, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip and his eyes squinting slightly. he moved his hand to your side in effort to turn you around, leaning down to your ear. "enjoy yourself a little more, dance with me, i haven't seen you all night."

you looked at eren, his head near your ear causing the deviate hairs on the side of his head to tickle you. "i am... and that's your fault, you left me almost as soon as we got here."

eren ignored your last statement, pressing his palm to the dimples of your back. "lower." he droned, curiosity crossing his face as he wondered if you would comply or not, although he was just messing around.

"eren!" you slapped his arm, another foreign feeling coursing your skin as he tittered in your ear before pulling back.

"what? you're my bestfriend, i'm just messing, plus you'd be at like— my legs anyways." eren gave you a testing gaze, watching you lift a brow up at his slick words. with courage, you challenged eren, pushing back on him a little more, letting your backside brush against him in the slightest playfully. eren's hand stiffened on your side before he turned you back around.

"did you feel that in your legs?" you didn't think eren would take you seriously. you could play around with each other like that, and sometimes you did.

"woah, stop..." he let out a shaky laugh, it sounding more like a huff of breath. "uh, i'm gonna go head over for another drink... do you want one too? i'll pay." his voice came out almost in a pleading manner, but you shook your head brushing him off.

"it's cool, one of us has to stay sober— i wouldn't want you crashing zeke's car either, he'd kill you."

"whatever... but, you sure?"

"yes, i'm sure... i'm gonna go find somewhere to sit anyways, i'm kind of sick of standing."

"i told you your feet were gonna hurt."

"i didn't say they hurt, i said i was sick of standing, stupid. go get your drink." you pushed eren forward a little bit, him looking over you one more time before letting you go, heading in the direction of the same bar almost everyone you had encountered had sat at at least once today.

you wanted to find somewhere to sit, and it wasn't too hard, a broad seating area with small lounge couches and seating in the corner of the club, and sitting one of the couches was pieck, surveying the area, a peaceful expression on her face as she sat with porco. you mentally high fived yourself for spotting another one of your acquaintances, striding over, watching pieck's face practically glow at your arrival, porco not caring much. "pieck," you held your hands out, gesturing to the dark haired girl. "comes to a party, and lays down with porco for half of it."

"so you finally found me." was the first thing she said, intertwining one of her hands with yours and pulling you down to sit with her, laughing at you. "i was out there earlier, and now i'm drinking. pock here wouldn't even let me be out there for too long if i wanted too."

"and let those filthy hands touch you? damn right." he grumbled, arm swung around the back of the seat the three of you were seated on.

"see? pock; forever the life of the party." pieck mimics your earlier tone, using her hands to gesture out like you before the two of you burst into fits of laughter. "but, i saw you being the life of the party and dancing out there."

you scoffed. "barely, i danced with only a couple people, that's all."

"sasha, jean, eren." she leaned forward, bumping you with her hand that held her drink.

"why'd you say eren like that?"

pieck looked to porco, almost snorting at your obliviousness before looking back at you. "he was watching you when you were getting down with jean, then you kind of... got down with him too." her eyes got wide mockingly, before she giggled at her own words, downing some of her alcohol.

"barely," you said again. "i'm just friend's with both of them— and jean is just naturally flirty i guess. i'm just chilling, like you."

porco looked over at your last sentence, eyeing pieck with a muddled guise, her catching on before lightly rubbing his hand that sat on his thigh in security. "not chilling like that, pock, she means i'm just sitting around."

"i'm not stupid, i knew that."

another burst of short lived laughter from you and pieck, porco rolling his eyes at the two of your antics. "well eren and jean are over there now."

you glanced over at the direction of pieck's gaze, spotting eren seated beside armin and annie, and a new face you didn't even see all night, historia talking to eren with a black haired girl next to her, arms crossed. jean stood on the other side of them, leaning on the counter seeming to be listening intently. something seemed off about the conversation but eren seemed to be nonchalant about it so you didn't think twice. "so annie was still at the bar? i guess hitch left her." you said mostly to yourself, recalling when you told armin where the stoic girl was earlier that evening.

"yeah," pieck still heard you. "look at annie and armin," she used her drink to gesture towards the two.

"cute, almost makes me want to get in a relationship, surrounded by all these lovebirds." you said jokingly, specifically aiming your sentence to pieck and porco next to you, and not so much annie and armin as you weren't even sure if they dated.

"i could pluck a couple candidates for you."

"who?"

"i don't think you'd like my answer."

you shook your head at pieck, only letting the comment linger on your mind for a bit before letting your eyes wander back to historia and eren. they seemed to be having a heated conversation from the distance you were at, historia's drink in hand as she spoke to eren, her hands flailing at the same time while eren drank his own, seemingly half-listening. "was historia always here?"

pieck looked ahead to the bar as well. "i'm assuming you mean the blondie from this afternoon? i remember her, but i don't recall seeing her until probably just a couple minutes ago, why? you're gonna go over and say hi?"

"nah, she's a sweetheart though; she'd be happy to see me regardless, but, i think she might be a little annoyed with me because of what happened between her and eren. if i pass her later then yeah."

historia frowned as both her and you, despite your distance watched eren turn around to armin and jean, saying something that made jean burst out laughing and armin and the raven haired girl next to historia's jaw drop. what jean said after was inaudible from where you sat, but you could just see the words "eren," formed on armin's lip. your eyes widened as when eren turned back around historia's hand flew forward, drink wrapped around her fingers letting the contents inside of the cup spill forward onto eren's shirt, the red shade of the liquid seeping into it.

you gasped and pieck did too, her moving her hair out of her face to make sure the events that were splayed out were really happening. "oh my gosh," you muttered, standing up and taking long strides over to the bar.

armin's hand wrapped around eren's wrist, tugging him back before he could lose his temper on the small girl in front of him. "eren, leave it!" you could hear armin say, worry in his tone as eren shook out of his grip. but before he could do anything else in response you were in front of him, your eyebrows furrowed and your hands placed on the front of eren's shirt, avoiding the wet spots as you pushed him backwards a little.

"eren, hey, eren, stop!" you raised your voice slightly, his eyes still trained on historia who you stepped in front of, her stepping back, with the other girl, who you could now tell was mina, but you could only remember her so vaguely, hearing about her from eren more than seeing her more often than not.

eren looked down at you, his expression softening only a tad bit when he saw your own angered one as you tried to calm him down. you twisted your neck back to look at historia with a disappointed look, her looking almost surprised to see you here as well, as if she genuinely didn't know you'd be here. "historia..." you sighed more so to yourself before looking at eren's shirt again.

"_____, i can take him to the bathroom to help him." armin proposed, coming up beside you and examining eren's shirt as well. luckily because of the dark color it only looked like a water stain, but you knew it was irritating eren nonetheless.

"it's fine, i'll take him, thank you arm—"

"no, let's go, get your stuff." eren interrupted you, turning towards the barstool he was sitting on previously to grab his phone. his tone was low and domineering, almost telling you that yes, you were leaving right now, not that you had any complaints; you were already getting tired, hence why you took a seat with pieck.

"um, i left my stuff in the car, and i have my phone." you felt your chest to make sure your device was still tucked away, and it was, eren grabbing your upper arm and for the thousandth time that day, tugging you away. you could only look back with a sorry gaze at armin, noticing jean's still shocked expression, and realization dawning on historia's own face. you would have to shoot pieck a text later that night as well, as you could no longer see her as eren dragged you out the club.

once you took step outside the cold breeze hit your arm, but one of your arm's were still held captive so you couldn't rub your limbs to try and soothe the aching cold, getting annoyed by the way eren was pulling you along with him. "eren, let go." you pulled your arm back, and easier than you thought, your arm slipped out of his grip as the two of you reached the car. this time he didn't open the car door for you, both of you getting into your designated sides simultaneously, eren starting his brother's car again.

"what happened?" you asked almost immediately, eyes still looking down to the splotch of alcohol on his black top. you knew it would turn into a stain without the proper care of the material.

eren basically ignored you, looking over to your side once before beginning to drive off letting silence fall over the two of you. you huffed and looked out the window, resting your head on your palm and just letting eren's temper wash away with the car ride. you'd coerce him to tell you when the two of you got back to carla's house.

                                            彡

eren unlocked the front door, letting you get inside first. all the lights were shut, his mom most likely sleeping, yet the two of you were still quiet.

eren almost immediately began stripping off his shirt, first starting by placing both of his keys on the counter, alongside his phone, while you placed your own belongings beside his. he took off his tee, pendant slapping against his chest once the shirt was off. you used your right foot to kick off your left heel and did the same with the reciprocating leg.

before he could toss his shirt onto the table chair you reached out, grabbing it and going to flip on the kitchen light, heading over to the sink. eren studied your movements slightly surprised by your immediate efforts to help him, which to him should be no shock; you were always willing to help eren, always one step ahead of him before he could make mistakes, always rushing after him before his mistakes as well.

he came over beside you as you studied the stain, your delicate hands stretching out the fabric to examine it further. "what was she drinking?"

eren looked up from his shirt to your face, you too concentrated on the shirt to notice. "how am i supposed to know?" you gave him a browbeaten stare, him shifting uncomfortably before speaking again. "i don't know... it was something red i think."

"i'm gonna hand wash it and put it in the dryer. next time you wash clothes you can wash it too." you murmured, turning on the sink water before drizzling dish soap onto the black material. eren watched you silently, almost in awe at your domestic movements, your hands moving faintly yet firmly when you scrubbed at his shirt. he decided to break the silence instead of continuing to watch you.

"... i was just talking to armin and jean, and then she came over with her friend."

you immediately scoffed, breathing air through your nose at his last words, not even looking back at eren. "her friend? you know her name eren, i know you do."

eren stared at his shoes, tapping his fingers against the counter he leaned against. "yeah, mina. well they came over, and she was just talking to me like normal—"

"eren." your tone was almost threatening— like a mothers warning. you were glad he finally felt the need to tell you about the events that your mind was pondering on, but the way he sounded like he was attempting to dumb down the story itched you wrong. eren could tell by the tone of your voice that you were slightly upset, and he decided not to push any further.

"well she started talking to me about everything, her and mina were like... interrogating me about the situation, how i... played them," the words felt almost foreign coming from eren's mouth. you could almost see him visibly cringing from the angle he was at beside you. "and then i said something that she took the wrong way, i said it to jean and armin, then she threw her drink at me." the more he talked the lower his voice got until it was merely above a whisper, almost as if the embarrassment was only just dawning on him.

you let the quiet simmer for a little longer, ringing out the fabric in your hand before rolling up the material and making your way to the laundry room, eren following behind like a lost puppy. you brushed your hand against the laundry room door, turning to eren for confirmation that it was the right room if you could remember, and he nodded his head. with a sigh you threw the garment into the dryer, setting it to dry for only twenty minutes then letting the dryer run.

eren once again let his eyes follow you as you stepped in front of him crossing your arms, your brows coming together creating a crease between them, and your eyes squinted at him. "so why'd you do it?"

no response, only emeralds darting around the room to avoid your own strong gaze. you weren't angry, no, as cliché as it is you were merely disappointed— maybe even irritated, and of course confused.

"hm? what'd you get out of hurting them?" you stepped closer, eren making no attempt to step back.

"... i dont know, i—"

"you don't know? you just doing this for fun? cause it's not fun for them, and it's not fun for me when random girls always come up to me, like historia; telling me about what you did." you pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "like, i just don't get it eren." your hand came up to your face as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

eren was almost at loss for words, only being able to listen to you speak, and only able to observe the array of motions that came and went on your face in a single minute, observe how you tapped your foot against the hardwood floor, or the way you tucked your lip between your teeth in frustration every time you took a pause in telling him off.

"eren... i'm not saying she was right for throwing that drink on you, because she's not, but you," another brief pause, and your eyes meeting eren’s, a sympathetic look on them. okay, yeah you weren't mad, you just wanted to know what was going on through eren's head. "you can't keep just doing them girls like that, thinking that nobody's gonna bite back."

"______, i'm sorry..." he didn't want you to be disappointed, he didn't want you to be upset with him. it was some kind of heavy guilt that turned his stomach. he took it upon himself to grab one of your hands, and surprisingly you didn't pull away, his fingers rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves. "'m sorry,"

"eren, you're apologizing to the wrong person." eren genuinely didn't know what to say, he knew you weren't the person to apologize to but he wanted your forgiveness as well. you let go of his hand moving it to the key around his neck, fiddling with it between your fingers as a mere distraction. he watched your soft fingers move, and it gave him a sense of comfort and fidelity, a warmness in his chest.

"i know..." his tone was filled with culpability, and it made you feel bad despite the position he put your friend in.

"you know, your mom talked to me earlier." you unconsciously slid your hand up his chest to his shoulder. your touch, your touch was enticing to him whether you knew it or not. "she said she wanted me to help you out and help you be the best version of yourself as possible." your other hand went on your hip to steady yourself further, but eren pulled it away and brought it to his other shoulder, you giving them a squeeze that made his stomach flip. "so that's what i'm trying to do, because that's what she wants, and because i love you."

eren practically choked when the words left your lips. not that he's never heard it from you before, no, being his best friend for so long it was such a casual thing to say 'i love you', and it was actually repeated more often than not. but now, why did it feel any different now? "i love you too..." he said hesitantly, bringing his own hands to your forearms, massaging the skin much like he did your thigh the previous morning. "you're not mad right?"

"no, if you can do better for me i won't be." truth being, he'd do anything for you. you let your hands glide up until you were cupping his face, giving his cheek a playful pat to show you weren't mad at him, then coming back down to tug at his chain, like his mom did earlier. "c'mon, let's go get changed."

and it hit him— he was awestruck.

it all made sense, fleeting touches he would give you, the way he relished in your skin on his, wanting you to be in his presence— better yet in his arms. the way your own touch on his; like you putting his necklace on for him, or you fixing his hair, how he would look at you in awe as you did so, how it gave him a sense of calmness. you were always looking out for him, and he didn't realize he was looking out for you too, always a protective grip on you, pulling him along with you, watching you from afar when he had the chance, searching for you when you've been away for too long. and you, when you would check on him, fix his attire, fix his necklace, taking after what you've learned from his mom just showed the mutual bond the two of you had, but the longer the bond stayed cordial, the longer he longed for you more. so when your hand slipped from his necklace and you began to walk around him he couldn't help but whine your name lowly and tug you back towards him, abruptly spinning you back around and letting his hands hold your jaw as he pressed his lips against yours, not considering the impact of the action in that brief moment.

you were caught off guard, the feeling of his full lips on yours felt oddly good, but it wasn't right— no it wasn't right at all to you, but to eren it felt completely right, like you were made for him, his other hand pulling you closer by your waist, the silk material of your dress underneath his hand making him squeeze tighter as if his hand would slip away.

you tried pulling away, and eren could feel it, your reluctance and your hands trying to push him away, but just a little longer, a little more, a little bit more time for his lips to engulf yours, until you both had to pull back for air, your nails leaving crescent moons on his chest from your efforts to push him away from you. he heaved, a croak of your name coming out as you shook your head despite the feeling of the kiss you shared sending the butterflies in your stomach abroad. "eren, no... i can't, you‚"

"no," he was desperate, his voice having that same pleading tone from when he asked you to get a drink with him at the bar. "it's not like that, this is different!"

your eyebrows pointed upwards, something in you did want to believe him but you couldn't. but then again, what would make him want to do that? when did he ever start finding you appealing? was it the kiss just now that made you realize that this wasn't the eren you always tried to take care of? that this wasn't eren jaeger whos ears would get red when his mom would tug on them, or who convinced her to paint his walls an ugly green, or the eren that'd kick you out of his room? this was eren, who grew his hair out to his shoulders, who joined a sports team and gained abs that rippled under his shirt which you finally noticed, eren who would make small sexual innuendos that probably had more lying underneath it than you thought.

this was eren that kissed you, and you kind of wanted to kiss him back.

"i promise." his lips were flushed, much like his face, small wispy hairs from the bun that would never stay put for too long swimming around his face. his palm still lingered on your waist but his other hand was now gripping one of your wrists on his chest. he never knew how to keep his hands to his self, and that only increased now. you didn't even realize he was inching closer, practically begging for more contact. "my mom would kill me if i played you anyways."

and so you let his lips collide with yours again, your mouths moving in synchronization this time around. eren's hands fumbled for the laundry room light before he tapped your thigh signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. you knew his intentions but you still obliged. he shut the door and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the kitchen light, doing the same as the previous room, him carrying you carefully in the dark, taking his time to get upstairs quietly with you in his arms until you both were in his room, him finally settling you down on the bed and turning on a dim lamp on his desk.

"shit," he mumbled watching you splay out in front of him, although your knees were touching as you laid back to hide yourself slightly while eren fumbled taking his shoes off. your dress was sliding up your thighs, and if you opened your legs you were sure eren would get a clear view of the cotton underwear you changed into that morning.

eren didn't want to be too hasty, he wanted to show you that this was gonna be about you and your pleasure, to show you that this wasn't another one of his flings and that you were important, you meant something to him but he just couldn't see it until now. so he towered over you, watching the way you bit your lip anxiously and it made his heart skip a beat, you were so cute, and he always knew so but the thought only audibly hit him now. he massaged your knees, one of his favorite soothing actions to do to you, until he slowly pulled them apart, feeling you tense up. "it's okay..."

so you moved along with him, and likewise, your dress slid up some more, eren pushing it up to your stomach, you lifting your hips to help him do so. he eyed you, making sure you were comfortable, and he couldn't help but lean down to kiss your lips once more, before pushing you further up the bed so he could lean over you. "you want this too, right?"

you nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath as his kisses trailed down your neck, eren using his arms to support himself as he leaned between your legs. you could feel the denim of his black jeans pressing up against you slightly and you clenched, your knees hitting eren's sides. "you gonna let me treat you right, make you feel good?" more kisses down your sternum, until they reached the cleavage of your breasts, eren looking up at you with those recognizable doe eyes, and you pulled his head back up, fingers brushing against his ears.

"yes, eren." his name, his name on your lips never sounded so nice.

eren turned his head sideways to kiss your palm before giving you a boyish smile then tugging at the straps of your dress. "want me to take this off?" he was so verbal, it made you feel so safe and secure. when you nodded your head he began to slowly pull the fabric off of you. he took his time, feeling every inch of your body, every curve beneath his hands, the softness of your flesh against his knuckles. he almost groaned out seeing your body almost bare in front of him. you were so pretty, it almost wasn't fair that it took him this much time to take action. "pretty." he spoke under his breath, but you heard it, and your hand slowly went to your mouth to hide your smile, your other one wrapping around your own waist to hide yourself, and eren caught on, moving your hands. "stop hiding, beautiful."

the compliments went right up your spine, your eyes fluttering as he skipped over your bra and let his kisses head down south, peppering your stomach in them. he let his fingers run up against your sides, eyes looking up to you for a second to make sure you were comfortable to where his hands and mouth were headed. eren's fingers dusted the waistband of your underwear, his teeth grazing the material as well before he pulled back, letting them snap against your skin, you hissing in response. "eren," you whined, feeling yourself grow even slicker from his onslaught.

"yes?" he said almost tauntingly. you could feel his hot breath over your lower abdomen, and you felt like you were being tickled. he decided to be a little slower, moving his hands to your thighs instead, rubbing at them, his fingers ghosting over your skin the closer he got to your heat, and when your mouth dropped open, the smallest moan came out of your mouth when he let his palm rest over you, he couldn't help but rut his length onto your thigh a little through his jeans.

when your legs spread more between him, he took it upon himself to go back down to the same position he was in, holding one of your legs apart by your knee while the other one attempted to pull your panties over your legs. eren was growing excited watching your hips lift up and your underwear fly across the room. his eyes were dark, hungry almost as he watched you try to close your legs again, but his hand was still holding them open as he stared at your glistening cunt. "damn," he breathed out shakily, jade eyes swapping between the view of your face staring at the ceiling in slight nervousness, and your pussy, sitting pretty in front of him, for him. "let me taste you."

you nodded your head almost too fast, and that urged eren on, him settling himself in between your legs. "you're so sexy," his thumb gave your clit a few test rubs watching your hips buck up slightly, and you could feel yourself pulse, aching for more contact, but eren was being painfully slow. he let his thumb drop down lower until it slide between your folds, gathering your slick on the digit, pride filling his body at how much coated his thumb. "you're so wet because of me." way to fill his ego. you rolled your eyes with a small chuckle that made him reciprocate, the childish smile returning on his face.

"stop..." you said, letting your hand fall to your stomach, the small moment of laughter making you a tad bit more comfortable. eren closed his eyes, pressing his tongue against your clit before flipping it and dragging it down to your entrance. before you could even buck your hips up his hand flew to your side, his fingers pressing into your skin, holding your hips in place, a whine leaving your lips that egged eren on. "fuck," the new sensation of his tongue on you, simply sitting on your hole had you wriggling underneath him. he opened his eyes to watch you, your head thrown back on your pillow, mouth agape your hand now kneading at your breast, bra pulled down around you waist, and eren couldn't help but smirk against your throbbing heat.

"you like that?" his lips moved against you and you visibly shuddered, causing eren to chuckle.

"yeah..."

eren pressed a kiss to your clit before finally letting his tongue slip into your hole, a small gasp eliciting from you as you felt yourself clench around the wet muscle. he audibly groaned, the way you tasted and felt around him making him tighten in his pants. he pushed his tongue in and out, relishing in each of your gasps and the moans you tried to hide. he pulled back for a brief moment, bringing his fingers up to spread your lips. "don't hold back, i wanna hear you." and he slid his tongue up your slit before sliding it back in, essentially tongue fucking you, your back arching as much as possible under his restraint.

"eren, fuck— more," you hissed. it felt almost teasing, you needed something bigger, something to fill you up and fuck you good, and the thought alone along with eren's tongue venturing inside of you made you even wetter, and eren could feel it, slurping at your juices. the vibrations made you yelp out, his grip on one side of your hips tightening while he readjusted his fingers in a v-shape to hold your lips apart.

eren gave you a small break, pulling back for a brief moment to let you calm down before gently sucking on your clit. he let his tongue sit on it then went back down, this time taking his index and sliding it into you, a drawled out moan leaving you. your eyes squeezed shut, and no— no, it still wasn't enough, but it felt so good.

eren smiled to himself, seeing you shaking in pleasure, knowing it was him doing so, and let his fingers do some work, kissing up your thighs then nibbling on the skin slightly, your other leg sliding up and down on the bed and your toes curling. he pecked kisses back down your thigh until his lips met your clit again, lapping at it lightly and letting the cold air hit it before pressing his open mouth against it and sucking, small hums of content leaving him.

"i can't," you could feel yourself throb as eren pumped his finger in and out of you, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you almost cried out, that familiar feeling of an overload of pleasure creeping up on you. "i'm gonna come," and god, did he want to feel you cream all on his mouth.

"gonna come for me?" eren added another finger, feeling you squeeze around him as he continued to thrust them into you, letting his lips come back to lick at your heat as he fingered you faster while his other hand trailed up and down your sides instead of holding them down. you let one of your hands come back down into eren's hair, finding a grip on the brown locks and pushing his head down further, eren humming in content, sucking harder for your pleasure.

"yes, eren, yes!" you blabbered, the heat in your lower abdomen twisting around as you grind against eren's face until your orgasm tumbled over you, your hips stuttering, back arching while eren slipped his fingers out, taking both of your thighs on either side of his head and helping you come down from your climax while he licked at you until you were back calm yet your breathing uneven.

eren pulled off of you with a pop, his eyes meeting yours, but you only looked for a split second before you let them go down to his lips, covered in your wetness, and he smiled, his tongue slipping over his top and bottom lip. "you taste good, that was good..." he climbed over top of you until his fingers were prodding at your lips, asking for entrance so he could have you taste yourself, and you complied, lips parting and his digits slipping in while your tongue swirled around them. he curved his fingers, pushing them further down your throat as far as possible before slipping them out and coming down to kiss you, the taste of you even more apparent as your mouths met. he slipped his tongue in, grabbing your jaw and kissing you fervently, tongues dancing together for a bit before he reluctantly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours. "good job."

your hands made quick work of pulling off your bra completely despite the ache from keeping your legs apart while eren shifted backwards off the bed as you watched him unzip his jeans, pulling down his pants until he was left in grey boxers. he pulled those down too, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen without shame and you nearly drooled when he took it in his hand, rubbing up and down the length while coming back over to his bed. you grabbed eren's hand, trying to keep your eyes off of his length making him let out a low laugh. "you scared?" he joked as you brought him down next to you.

"shut up— no, i'm not." your hands moved to his chest pushing him down to his pillows but eren sat back up, placing his own hands over yours.

"woah, it's okay, you don't have to." he realized you wanted to suck him off, but he didn't want to make it about him tonight as to not give you any ideas that any of this was temporary. he wanted to take it easy and pleasure you like he just did, make you feel good, and make you cry out his name, not vice versa. "you lay down." eren flipped the two of you, until you were back underneath him, and he took it upon himself to rub your breast, letting his thumb and index twirl one of your nipples between his fingers. his mouth came in contact with your other boob, talented tongue going to work at your reciprocating nipple for a brief moment before pulling back. "i don't know if i have a condom."

you glance up at eren, a frown forming on your face. you knew he messed around a lot and that somewhat worried you. "you don't have condoms here or something?" your eyes darted around his room.

"it's my mom's house, no i don't have condoms." eren was growing impatient, precum visibly leaking out his tip so he took it upon himself to smooth it down his length while he thought. "i'm clean though, i swear." he added. "i haven't had sex in a couple weeks either." you gave eren a wary look. "i'm not lying."

with a roll of your eyes you nodded your head and shifted around, but eren stopped you halfway, hand pulling your hip back down to the bed. "nah, i want to see your face, gorgeous." just as fast as he slipped out of his alluring mood, he slipped back into it and your lip twitched as his hand ran down your side until it was back at your thigh, eren pulling your leg further from the other. he looked down to position himself in front of you, mouth in an 'o' shape at the sight in front of him. he was about to fuck you, and fuck you so good. "you ready?"

"mhm."

so eren slid himself inside of you, both of you groaning simultaneously until he was buried at the hilt— and this is what you longed for. you felt so full and it felt so nice, the way he stretched you out was indescribable and your mouth hung open, small gasps coming out as your hand gripped at eren's forearm near your head. "fuck, you okay?"

albeit your eyes being squeezed shut and eren feeling like he was splitting you open, you nodded your head hastily, nails digging more into his skin. it had been awhile since you had sex yourself, so the feeling almost felt like your first again. "yeah... you're just, so— big..." you managed to breathe out. you should've kept your mouth shut, you could practically see eren's ego inflate, his lip twitching trying to suppress his smile.

he brought his palm to your face, smoothing over the skin with his thumb. "yeah? well you're so tight," eren pushed a little further until his tip was brushing your cervix, then his body coming back a little bit until his head was a distance above your pussy, collecting spit in the front of his mouth before letting it slowly drop down onto your clit, rubbing it in to soothe you further as he pulled out a bit, tantalizingly slow. "i'll go slow at first."

eren pushed in and out slowly like he promised, but it didn't last for long, his pace quickening fast, but luckily he continued to rub you in circular motions to help ease the pain until it melted into pleasure. "can't believe you're letting me fuck this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned out, his hips rocking against yours.

the way you wrapped around him, squeezing him impossibly tight wasn't fair. you felt exactly how he thought you would, maybe even better, and every thrust of him inside you had him holding back more and more. "shit, _____." his voice came out in a whimper, and his elbows were brought down to the bed while your legs wrapped around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer.

for you, the sensation was incredible, the way he pulled out just before he was no longer inside of you, then pushed in until you could feel him against your cervix, every time he hit it pleasure shooting up inside of you. it had your skin feeling tingly and your hands flying to grip at the sheets, small wails of pure euphoria coming out of you and edging eren on. "eren," you cried as his teeth began to nibble on your neck, sucking on it as well in efforts to mark you. his necklace sat cold against your chest as he sucked on your neck and increased your pleasure.

"yeah, i love hearing my name from you like that, say it again." he almost demanded, pumping into you harder, your body rocking on top of the bed with every time eren slammed his hips into yours, your wetness collecting on his pelvis. "again," he popped off from your neck watching the skin slowly darken, and he knew there'd be a hickey soon enough.

"eren!" you whimpered, rolling your own hips down into his, eren supporting himself on his arms again, bringing one up to wrap around your neck, giving a test squeeze. "fuck..." you choked out as he tightened his grip, almost surprised at the fact that you weren't trying to push his hand away. his fingers tapped against your neck before he pressed harder, coming down to kiss you again, tongue licking at your bottom lip, your breathing shortening from the lack of oxygen coming in or out. he pulled at your lip before making every thrust of his powerful, pulling out slow then coming back in strong.

"so you like when i choke you like that?" he mumbled against your lips before pressing his against your jaw. "you're so dirty... never thought you'd be like that." and finally he let you take in air, palm moving from your neck to your breast, giving it a nice squeeze.

eren lift your hips up a little bit so he could find that spot inside of you— and when he finally hit it you all but screamed, his hand slapping over your mouth and eren's eyes widening. "shut the fuck up!" his tone serious, as you forgot that his mom was only rooms over. you gave him a sympathetic look in apologies as he slid his hand from your mouth.

"'m sorry, but you feel so good..." you pouted trying to kiss him up in excuse. it had to have worked the way eren leaned forward so he could brush against your sweet spot again, this time you gasping.

"yeah? i feel so good?" he repeated.

"yeah."

"'atta girl," you were consumed in ecstasy, the praise, the stimulation, the feeling of his pendant against your skin, everything was surrounding you and that familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching began climbing again, you just needed a little more. "taking this dick like that— and liking it too." eren unwrapped your legs from his waist, his pace speeding up again. "i bet you want me to fuck you like this more often."

you groaned, your hand snaking down to rub at your clit again, and only after a couple rubs were you seeing stars, your back arching again, every nerve in your body being pinched as you came all over eren. a cry of his name came out over and over again and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

he didn't stop, no, he was close himself, and the way you were pulsing around him as if you were trying to milk him was helping him to his end. your body went almost limp as you let eren finish. "fuck, fuck, i'm almost there too," he bucked his hips into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his hand finish him off, rubbing himself profusely until spurts of white came out flying onto your chest and stomach. "shit." he panted, and you were too, your breathing unstable, chest rising up and down after your orgasm. "shit."

eren rolled over until he was laid down beside you, your eyes struggling to stay open. eren let his rake over you, from the mark on your neck, to his cum splattered on your midsection, to the small sheen of sweat that covered yours and his body, causing some of his flyaways to stick to his forehead. he sighed in content before getting up to go grab a rag to clean you up.

"don't go to sleep yet." he said as he wiped and cleaned you up with a damp rag, cleaning himself off as well.

"why?" you mumbled with your eyes closed as you turned around so your face smushed against eren's pillow.

eren grabbed his boxers slipping them back on and contemplated handing you your underwear as well or letting you stay comfortable. seeing you wake up bare would cause a problem for him that he didn't want to deal with so he grabbed your underwear and helped slipped them on you, then rummaging through his bag for one of his shirts. "come on, let me put this on you." you reluctantly obliged, picking yourself up from his pillow and lifting your arms so he could slip his shirt over your head before climbing into his bed next to you, pulling you flush against him.

"you okay... was that okay?" there he went, checking up on you.

"yeah, you okay?" and there you went, doing the same.

"yeah... that was real good," eren kissed the top of your head. "i meant it when i said this is different." he rubbed your back, pulling you even closer, his legs tangling with yours as the two of you cuddled under the covers. it didn't feel as wrong to you anymore. a little weird? yes, but his words were reassuring. "i want something with you... i do. you do so much for me, we're always together, my mom loves you— i love you... i don't know, i just wanna be with you."

your heart was pounding in your chest, even through your tiredness. "can you show me you can be better first? work for me?" you didn't want to just hand yourself to eren that easy. "i want you to show me how much you love and care for me. get yourself together, settle down, then i guess you can settle down with me later."

"later?" it pang eren's heart a bit that he wouldn't be able to call you his just yet, but he was determined to do what it would take to get you.

"later."

                                           彡

"_____, wake up, my mom made breakfast." your eyes opened slowly at the sound of eren's voice. you turned over to see him dressed, sweatpants and a shirt on his body, hair slightly damp from what appeared to be a recent shower. "get ready, i'll wait."

with hesitance, you got up and got yourself cleaned up and ready. you threw on some leggings and a sweatshirt as you didn't recall any plans with eren nor his mom that evening, and with that you and eren head downstairs, eren's hand holding yours as he pulled you down, but he didn't drop contact with you when the two of you got into the kitchen. instead of holding your hand, he hopped up on the kitchen counter pulling you between his legs where you stood.

"good morning, when did you two come home last night?" carla asked from her position at the stove, flipping a pancake before grabbing three plates from the cabinet next to her and then turning around to face the two of you. neither you or eren missed the suspicious glance she gave you when she saw your stances, holding back her question so you could answer hers.

"probably around twelve... we left early." you said.

"i thought so, i heard something last night but i remembered it was probably just the two of you so i went back to sleep." carla slipped the last pancake onto the stack then handed eren the three plates to place on the kitchen table. "am i missing something?" she said giving you two a one over as she gave him the plates.

"no. there's three people and three plates." eren said as he placed them onto the table, and you rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

"no, like... you guys seem comfortable today." realization hit him as he turned around to his mom trying to hide his stupid grin, which told you to not let him speak.

"uh, me and eren talked yesterday." carla raised an eyebrow at you as she walked past you to put the stack of pancakes on the table, you following behind her to take a seat.

"about?"

eren glanced at you then to his mom as she brought over a container of syrup and some forks and knives. "i'm trying to make _____ my girlfriend." he said blatanly, watching his mom freeze up as she put a fork and knife beside your plate.

"really?"

"yeah... he is." you couldn't decipher her reaction, until a small smile appeared on her face as she pat your shoulder and took a seat with you and eren.

"i'm glad." she hummed. "it took you guys long enough... but why is he trying?"

you avoided carla's eyes, concentrating on pulling a pancake to your plate as eren seemed nonchalant about the whole ordeal. it was his mom, so of course he'd be less nervous about it than you.

"i told him i wanted him to get some things together first."

carla nodded in understanding as she began cutting her pancakes. "i see. that's good, just let me know if anything okay?"

"okay." you and eren said the same time causing carla to giggle.

"i'm talking to _____ not you." her tone had a hint of excitement to it.

she was happy, and something inside you was too.

you weren't sure if eren getting a drink spilled on him was karma or luck.

[spiltscribbles]

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed  this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

.-

Prompt Smash Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜   |  A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

.-

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

.-

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary  weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive. 

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation  for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade  when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on. 

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings.  And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers. 

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him  any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year. 

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago. 

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard,  leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything  through the heavy weight around him, the one  cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room. 

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale. 

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and  how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes. 

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud. 

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together. 

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face. 

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?” 

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you  want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught 

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making  some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her. 

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth. 

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what. 

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

.-

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Four: You Can Hear it in the Silence

a/n: hello again!! So glad to have you back :) I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. It's been wonderful to read some of your comments and thoughts! I do have to give a special shoutout to @harrysblackcoat and @determined-overthinker for their continued support and feedback, it really means the world to me, so a huge thank you to you both!! I am tremendously grateful for all of you lovely readers and I hope you will enjoy chapter four as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to drop by and chat with me after reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count: 6.7k

read parts one, two, and three 

“You kissed him?” Maleah gasps over FaceTime, her mouth so wide, Alani fears her jaw will detach from its socket. 

She had finally decided to tell her best friend everything, excluding the Rolling Stone details, nearly two days after the last time she had seen Harry. The entire next day had been spent replaying every moment and listening to the recorded interview on her voice notes until the phone battery was completely drained. Alani’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Harry’s voice and it only made her miss him more. The part that she desperately needed her friend’s input on was what had happened immediately before she left. 

“No,” Alani clarifies, quickly. “Well, almost. Maybe—I think,”

“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks,” Maleah starts, brows furrowed as if her brain is malfunctioning. “And you’re already swooping in on my man?”

Alani feels her cheeks warm but she pushes past it and rolls her eyes. “There is no swooping going on,”

“I don’t know. You two were caught in the rain together, sounds like swooping to me,”

“But that’s the thing,” Alani huffs. “I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,”

Maleah nods understandingly and pushes any jealousy out of her mind, the love for her best friend winning out. 

“Well, tell me exactly what happened before the kiss,”

“There was no kiss,” Alani emphasizes, thinking back to the last few minutes spent in Harry’s car. 

The sun had already set when the two of them arrived at her house, leaving little light in the already darkly tinted Range Rover. But even in the darkness, Alani could see the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Their bodies had been close enough in the confined space that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his vanilla scent enveloped her in an intoxicating haze. For a moment, her eyes had darted to his plush lips and she imagined what it would feel like to close the space between them. She could have sworn that he had done the same, finding his eyes wandering just below the tip of her nose when she looked up. Before anything could happen, however, she found herself reaching for the door handle and stepping into the crisp night sky. 

“But did you want him to kiss you?” Maleah questions. 

Alani waits a beat, but she doesn’t have to think about the answer. “Yes,”

“Well there you go!” her friend responds enthusiastically. “Problem solved,”

“Problem not solved,” Alani corrects. “What about the fact that he’s, like, famous? I mean what happens when he has to go back to L.A. or London or whatever?”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,”

Alani anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lower lip, not stopping even when she tastes blood. “But it’s true—” 

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to think about it right now,” Maleah assures her. “What if you just let things happen and… enjoy it for what it is?”

Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning in the last part. “Mi, you and I both know that I’ve never been one to just enjoy it for what it is,”

“I know this, and I love you,” Maleah starts slowly. “But as your best friend—and I say this with nothing but love—you need to get laid, for real,”

Alani groans, slumping further into her mattress. “But what if that’s all he wants? I just don’t think I’m ready for that,”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” her friend coos. “But from what you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like that’s all he’s after,”

Alani considers this for a moment before Maleah continues. 

“Look, let’s start with something simple: do you like him? I mean, do you like spending time with him and just generally being around him?”

“Yes,”

“Then start there,” Maleah suggests. “You can enjoy someone’s company without making it romantic, it’s just friendship. Don’t put pressure on something that you’re not ready for, or something that might not even be there,”

Alani feels a small weight lifted off her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right I shouldn’t psych myself out over something that didn’t even happen. I mean, for all I know he has a girlfriend,”

She waits a beat before a new concern enters her mind. “Wait, does he have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know,” 

“Well even if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Alani reaffirms. “Because we’re just friends,”

“When are you gonna see him again?” her friend asks. 

Alani stomach drops. In all her concentration of the past, she hadn’t even considered what will happen when she has to face him again. “I don’t know,”

“Who initiated the last hang out?”

“He did,” Alani admits, thinking back to the hours he had spent reading in the café until her shift was over. 

Maleah hums. “Well then it looks like the ball’s in your court,”

Alani is quiet for a moment, which her friend takes as her cue to offer some more reassurance. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, Nani, but it’s gonna be okay. Promise, ” 

Alani sighs, kneeling to look out the window next to her bed. 

“No, Mi, it’s okay. I really appreciate you just being there, it means a lot,”

“Of course, babes. Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The call ends and Alani continues watching the palm trees sway in the wind. Will do—the very same last words that she had spoken to Harry that night. Her mind wanders back to the moment right before she had opened the door to escape and plays out an alternative scenario. What would have happened if she had leaned just an inch closer? 

********

Harry pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. Will do, he repeats in his mind— two words that he never knew could carry so much weight. 

“I said ‘I think Manchester United is shit,’” Nick Grimshaw says loudly, shrugging at Mitch and Jeff Bhasker when his plan doesn’t work. “I dunno, that should’ve gotten him,”

“Oh hey, Alani,” Mitch speaks into his phone loud enough for Harry to hear. This piques the singer’s attention immediately, his heart racing. “Yeah he’s right here,” 

“What the fuck?” Harry questions, zeroing in on Mitch. 

“Who’s Alani?” Nick teases with eyebrows raised into his hairline. 

Harry springs from his seat and corners Mitch, who holds his phone above his head. “Gimme the phone!”

“Hello,” Nick interrupts, watching the struggle continue. “Feeling neglected here, who’s Alani?”

The guitarist ducks and sprints to the opposite wall, Harry chasing close behind. They hop from couch to couch and swerve around fragile equipment while Mitch snickers and guards his phone close. Harry had no idea why Alani was calling and why she hadn’t reached out to him directly, but he’s dying to hear her voice again and is growing increasingly frustrated with his friend’s antics. 

“Mitchell, stop fuckin’ around!”

“I’m sorry,” he relents, holding out the phone with an amused laugh. “It wasn’t her, wrong number,”

Harry huffs and returns to his seat disappointedly, a guitar resting in his lap. Nick, who had only been able to drop in for the weekend due to his busy schedule at the BBC, narrows his eyes at both boys before speaking up again. 

“Once again, no one has answered my question.”

“She’s just a girl he’s been hanging out with,” Jeff explains nonchalantly. “He wants to have her babies.”

“Don’t,” Harry warns. 

Despite already having his fun, Mitch can’t resist adding on. “It’s none of our business… but I’ve heard a summer wedding is in the works.”

“I’m gonna go drink now,” Harry announces, standing. “And none of you fuckers are invited.”

He wanders down the hallway and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the tequila. Is it too early for margaritas? he wonders before deciding that he wants a second opinion.  No new texts are displayed on his phone screen, much to his disappointment, but he decides to open the messages app anyway. He carefully types in Alani’s name and writes, then re-writes, the text several times before pressing send. As soon as the tag reads “delivered”, his body is filled with apprehension, but there’s no turning back. 

Harry: Is 10 a.m. too early for margaritas?

There’s a minute of silence, then two, and Harry turns his phone face down onto the counter to reach for the ingredients. It dings just as he opens the bottle of tequila and he immediately lunges for it. 

Alani: Never. Morning margs were invented for a reason. 

Relief. He quickly types out a risky response. 

Harry: Any chance I can convince you to join me?

He stares at the screen, willing the “delivered” to turn into a “read,” but it doesn’t budge. His lips ghost over the rim of the tequila bottle before he bites the bullet and takes a sip. 

Alani: Working :( sorry. Another time maybe. 

Defeat. He knows that “another time maybe” is a polite “never.” Another swig of tequila down the hatch. 

Harry: Yeah, no worries. 

Alani sets her phone down on her nightstand and brings the duvet up to her chin. She hopes with every muscle in her body that Harry doesn’t show up to the restaurant, though if he’s planning on drinking, perhaps she’s safe. Maybe I should do the same. She wonders, thinking about the rosé her mom keeps in the cupboard for special occasions. Surely heartache must be a good enough reason to crack it open. Regardless, Alani doesn’t think she has the stomach to keep it down at the present. 

********

Harry pushes the remaining peas around on his plate with the prongs of his fork. His chin rests in the heel of his hand. 

“And then I said ‘what’s the difference?’” his manager remarks, sending the rest of the group into a fit of wild laughter. 

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Mitch comments through a chuckle. 

The laughter slowly dies down and their eyes all wander to Harry who hasn’t budged for the past twenty-five minutes. They exchange worried glances, and Jeff begins to wonder if  his initial advice for Harry to go out with Alani was a mistake. 

“Hey, H,” he begins gently. “You feelin’ alright?”

Harry looks up from his plate and musters his best fake smile. “Yeah, jus’ tired,”

It was partially true; the crew had spent their entire afternoon at Honoli’i Beach practicing their surfing, though it was mostly unsuccessful for Harry—his life seemed to be a series of wipe-outs these days. 

“I’m gonna go watch a Rom-Com in my room,” he announces, standing with his plate. “Probably doze off.”

The group exchanges “good nights” before Harry saunters down the hall to his room. Settling into the bed, he flicks through the movie selection and clicks on one that he knows by heart. He contemplates texting Alani again, scrolling through their brief conversation from three days ago. Against his better judgment, he types out another message and presses send. 

Harry: Opinion on The Notebook?

He waits, attention briefly occupied by Rachel McAdams until the phone dings. 

Alani: A classic, though not as good as Dirty Dancing if I’m being honest. 

The corners of his mouth curl and he immediately types out another response. 

Harry: You have a problem with The Goss?

Alani snorts, planting her spoon into the pint of strawberry ice cream to reply. 

Alani: First, I have many gripes about you referring to Ryan Gosling as “The Goss”. Second, I was actually rooting for Lon Hammond, but maybe that’s just because I’m partial to James Marsden. And third, the scene where Baby and Johnny are dancing alone in his room. That’s all I have to say. 

Harry hums, hanging on every word. 

Harry: Confession: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing…

Alani: We need to change that immediately. 

His heart pounds. So she didn’t plan on ghosting him forever. 

Harry: So Lon Hammond, that’s your type? 

Alani doesn’t know why she finds it unsettling that Harry steers the conversation away from any possible talk of them hanging out again. She reminds herself that she had been the one to decline his invitation for margaritas and shovels another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. 

Alani: Kind, supportive, successful, handsome? Yeah, I’d say so. Not to mention he forgave Allie for cheating. 

Harry: But Noah built her a house. Her dream house, I might add. 

Alani: I’m not discrediting Noah, I love a grand romantic gesture as much as the next person. Just think Lon deserved better. 

Harry grins, entirely ignoring the movie at this point. Grand romantic gestures, he notes, good to know. 

Harry: And what about the fact that Noah wrote it all down and reads their literal love story to her every time she forgets?

Alani: Maybe he deserves some rights for that. 

Alani taps the spoon against her lower lip and thinks about Cecily’s words. Just let things happen. She desperately wants to, but she doesn’t know how. The thought of getting too close only to let it all slip through her fingers is too overwhelming, so she starts with something simple: do you like spending time with him? Alani doesn’t think she could enjoy anything more. Her mind wanders back to the passenger seat of Harry’s car and the image of his wrist draped over the steering wheel, lower lip captured between his fingers. She had noted this tick early on and found it endlessly endearing. Save for the awkward fifteen minutes of their very first interview, their conversations all seemed to come so easily. Alani enjoys his quick wit and the way he speaks slowly, as if carefully weighing each word. She likes that even though the entire reason for their relationship is for her to learn all that she possibly can about him, he makes an equal effort to get to know her. Alani compares Harry’s sincere reaction to hearing that she was a journalist to David’s snarky remark. Harry had believed in her from the get-go—he had trusted her. He makes her feel seen and known. Isn’t that what it means to be loved? To be known? His words echo in her mind. 

Harry: How’s the article going?

Alani’s stomach drops. Fuck. In all her contemplation over the almost kiss, she had forgotten the truth behind her motives. She had lied. Harry had trusted her, and she had lied. Not yet, she thinks, I haven’t lied yet. It would only be a lie if she submits the article to Rolling Stone. Her throat tightens. But I’m so close. She thinks about telling him, but quickly shuts the thought down when she considers that she still doesn’t have enough material and can’t afford to risk it now. This is her chance, there’s no doubt about it. Why else would the universe have planted a world famous rockstar right at her feet just when she had decided to give up for good? Alani had to at least try, she owed it to herself, and she reasons that if Harry really cares about her, he will understand. He would have to. 

Alani: It’s going. 

Harry: Can I get a sneak peek anytime soon?

Alani: Soon. Good night, Harry. 

She sends the last text and sets her phone face down next to her. If she was going to do this, she had to do it right—even if it meant putting some space between the two of them. She owed that much to Harry. 

He sinks further into the mattress, not understanding what he had said or done wrong, but he grants Alani her space, anyway.  

Harry: Good night Alani. 

********

“You’re listening to KWPX The Wave and that was the latest single from Ariana Grande,”

Alani stops fiddling with the radio and sits back with a defeated huff. She had been in a rut with her own music lately and after spending nearly fifteen minutes in her driveway shuffling through songs, she decided to turn on the radio and leave it up to fate.

“Next up is a song from everyone’s favorite ex-boyband: One Direction,”

Goddamnit, Alani groans. She had forgotten what a bitch fate could be. 

“Now, I have to say, DeeDee,” the radio DJ starts. “I was personally heartbroken to hear the news, and I know my daughters were too,”

“Oh definitely,” DeeDee replies. “And I can’t help but wonder what this means for all of them. I mean, what do you think they’re up to these days?”

The first DJ gives a snide chuckle before he continues. “Probably doing what every twenty-something year old millionaire does: booze, cruise, and schmooze—the pretty girls, especially,”

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes at his insinuation. She had begun to resent all of the gossip and speculation surrounding Harry’s whereabouts, especially after learning how much privacy meant to him. Moreover, she hated the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins at the thought of him with another girl. Alani supposes that it wasn’t entirely out of the question since they were far from romantically involved. While he had occupied her mind over the past few weeks, she knew that it was highly unlikely that he paid her the same attention. The thought still brings bile to her mouth. 

“Well whatever they’re up to, one thing seems to be pretty clear,” DeeDee speaks up again. “All eyes will be on Harry Styles. I mean, he’s really the one to watch in all of this, isn’t he?”

“I think you’re right. I’m curious to see what he’s got in store. Maybe he’ll join Justin Timberlake and Nick Jonas with the ex-boyband buzz cut. But without further ado, here’s Drag Me Down.”

Alani knows that she’ll have to talk to Harry eventually; over the past week and a half, she had dodged every invitation to hang out, left cut and dry responses to all of his texts, and even ducked into the restaurant’s walk-in fridge when he unexpectedly showed up one afternoon. While the temptation to indulge his friendly advances was high, professional boundaries needed to be established. She had already begun working on the article with material from the two previous interviews—and it wasn’t half bad—but there was still so much of the story to fill in. If Alani was going to make it all worthwhile, she had to keep digging and do it fast; she couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.  

Her car sputters slightly as she heads south on Mamalahoa Highway and the radio fades in and out. Alani checks all of her gauges—she had made sure that the gas tank was full before leaving—and doesn’t see anything unusual. A few miles later, it jerks again before coming to a complete stop. 

“Fuck,” she cries, pounding her palms against the steering wheel. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Alani waits a moment before turning the key again, but the engine refuses to start. She whips her phone out of the cupholder and scrolls through her contact list. 

Pua—no license.

Maleah—out of town. 

Dad—also out of town, catering a wedding in Oahu. 

Mom—probably scrubbed in on a major, life-saving surgery. 

She continues scrolling until her finger lands on a name that makes her heart race and sink at the same time. 

Harry Styles—no. 

There’s no way she can justify calling him, not after giving him the cold shoulder all week. If texting back and forth was unprofessional, then asking to be rescued off the side of the road surely crossed several boundaries. Alani scans her surroundings, shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun. There isn’t a car or person in sight for miles—what other choice does she have? With shaking fingers, she dials the number and presses the phone to her ear. Harry answers after the third ring. 

“Hello?” he responds loudly over the sound of cymbals crashing and laughter in the background. 

“Hi,” Alani greets, raising her voice to be heard. “It’s Alani,”

She hears shuffling on the other end and then Harry’s voice, softer this time. 

“Oh hey. How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

Harry senses that something is off, but he’s glad to hear from Alani, nevertheless. His friends continue their antics in the studio, despite his silent gestures to knock it off, so he heads outside. 

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. S’good to hear from you,” he offers shyly. 

Alani’s chest tightens. 

“Ditto,” she replies. “Hey listen, um, I’m kind of in a bit of trouble I—” 

She hesitates. What the hell am I doing? 

“I need your help,”

Harry’s heart sinks, immediately filled with worry. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. “It’s my car,”

“Where are you?”

“The highway, southbound. Just past exit 243, I think,”

“I’m on my way,”

“Thank you,” Alani offers gently. “Really, thank you.”

A soft smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “Anytime.”

He arrives in a pink Cadillac fifteen minutes later, pulling over behind Alani. She doesn’t recognize the car and  her confusion only deepens when a man with short-cropped hair emerges. As he approaches, a wave of recognition and relief washes over her. 

“Harry?”

“Hey,” he greets, walking up to the driver’s side. “Need a lift?”

Alani’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly, scanning his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person than the one she remembers, and he has the faintest trace of stubble above his lip and jaw. 

“You cut your hair,”

“I did,” he confirms. 

“It’s so short,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Alani offers with a light laugh, feeling flustered under his gaze. “I mean it looks great, really suits you. Not that it matters what I think, it’s your hair,”

But it did matter. Everything she did, or didn’t do, said, and didn’t say— it all mattered to him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. And it mattered more than she would ever know. 

“So Stevie quit on you?”

Alani sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honestly. All of the gauges look fine and I filled the tank this morning,”

Harry asks her to pop the hood and makes his way to the front of the Bronco. He looks around, not seeing any smoke or trace of other issues, though his knowledge of cars isn’t as comprehensive as he’d like in this situation. 

Alani joins him, doing her own scan over the inside of the hood despite the fact that she has no idea what to look for. Her eyes wander to Harry’s strong hands as they prod the various bells and whistles, and she notices the way his tanned skin glistens under the sun. The cross pendant nestled behind his white t-shirt escapes when he leans over, swinging like a mesmerizing pendulum. 

“I called a tow truck,” he says standing with his hands on his hips. “Should be here soon,”

“I’ll pay you back,” Alani offers quickly, her throat dry. 

Harry waves her concern away with a hand and places the hood back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay,”

“I really owe you one,” she says appreciatively. 

He leans against the car with his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have lunch with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

The tow truck arrives ten minutes later and the driver gathers all of Alani’s information, letting her know which mechanic the car will be taken to and when she can pick it up. She sighs watching Stevie pull away down the road and imagines the dent it’ll make in her savings. Harry nudges her gently, motioning for her to get in his car. 

“New ride?” she questions, running her fingers over the cotton candy paint. 

“It belongs to the owner of the studio,” he explains. “All of the cars do except the Rover, she’s a rental. But Jeff took her out to get us lunch,”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your plans,” Alani apologizes. And for kind of ghosting you, she thinks. 

Harry shakes his head, shifting the gear between them. “Nah, you didn’t interrupt, we were just messing around. But I am curious to know what brought you all the way out here on a Tuesday afternoon. Skipping town?”

Alani giggles at the way he says “Tuesday,” but responds despite the curious look he flashes her. “Day off. I was gonna go to the beach,”

“Bummer,” Harry offers, thanking every deity that he can name. “We could still go,”

“Your friends won’t be mad?”

“They’ll be fine,”

Alani nods, her eyes studying the orange checkers on her trousers.

“What’re you hungry for?” Harry speaks up. 

She thinks for a moment and is reminded of her original plans. “I could go for some sushi,”

“Know any good places?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” Alani’s curious gaze falls to the glove box before her, immediately wondering what’s inside. “Do you think the owner will be mad if I open this?”

Harry glances down at what she’s pointing to and shakes his head. “Knock yourself out,”

Alani pulls down the hatch and reaches inside; her fingers make contact with what feels like a pair of glasses. When her hand re-emerges with a pair that are pink and heart-shaped, she smiles. 

“They have good taste,” she comments, putting them on. 

Harry looks over and flashes a wide grin, the dimple that Alani has become so fond of emerging. 

“Look good on you,”

“Try them on,” Alani suggests, handing them over. 

He obliges and pushes his own pair up to make room for the other lenses. 

“What d’you think?”

“I think you should keep them,” she says. “They suit you.”

And they really do; they compliment his face well and hint to the fun, easygoing parts of his personality that Alani has recently discovered. 

She directs him to her favorite sushi spot near Bayfront Park, which is buzzing per usual. After they’ve been seated on the patio outside, Harry tucks the heart-shaped sunglasses into his t-shirt and contemplates addressing the elephant in the room: the ghosting. He doesn’t want to spook her, though,  so he decides to pose the question lightly, but Alani speaks before he has the chance. 

“So what’s with the haircut?”

Harry blinks, clearing his throat before he responds. “You hate it,”

“No!” She defends. “I like it, really, it looks great,”

“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t absolutely hate it,” he teases in mock offense. 

Alani rolls her eyes, a playful smile spreading across her face. “It just seems like a huge step and I’m curious, that’s all,”

He considers this, deciding to stop giving her a hard time, and responds. “Well if you must know, it’s for an audition,”

“For?”

“A movie,”

“A movie?” Alani’s eyes grow wide. “You’re gonna be in a movie?”

“Maybe,” he clarifies. “Dunno yet,”

“Wow,”

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What have you been up to? Any life changing decisions?”

Alani shrugs. “Same old. Work, my summer class,”

“And how’s your family?” he asks, which catches her off guard. 

“Good. My sister’s… a moody teenager. My dad is catering a big wedding in Oahu right now. Mom’s saving lives like the badass woman she is,”

Harry laughs lightly at her comment and Alani tries to store the soundbite in the back of her mind for safe keeping.

“What about yours?” she questions. 

“Fine, yeah. Mum’s good, so’s Gemma. Talk to them at least once a week just to check in,”

He pauses to take a sip of his water before continuing. “Ever since I was about...ten, maybe, ‘ve had this feeling like—protect mum at all costs. But she’s strong, has the greatest heart,”

Alani finds it sweet that Harry speaks so highly of Anne. Her own mom had always told her that a lot can be said about the character of a man by the way he treats his mother. 

“I’m sure she misses having you around,” Alani comments, thinking of her own close relationship with her mom. “I don’t know if I could let my child leave home as early as you did,”

Harry brushes the tip of his nose with a knuckle and nods. “Was kinda hard at first, but she’s always been really supportive.”

“I bet she’s really proud.”

He offers a shy smile in response, scanning the scenery around them. 

“I’m sure your family’s proud of you too.”

Alani and Harry continue their light conversation through the entire meal, sharing stories about their families and childhood. She finds herself wishing that  she could have met a teenaged Harry, pre-fame and general world domination. He enjoys her anecdotes, soaking up every detail that he possibly can as if his life depends on it. The two of them go back and forth well after the meal is finished, only pausing when the waitress stops to check on them. 

“Maybe we should go,” Alani suggests, checking her phone for the time. “I always hate when customers stay for hours,”

“Just like I did the first time at the café?” he asks, putting his signature on the bill. 

Alani feels her cheeks warm and she quickly back pedals. “No! I mean—well, yeah, kinda—”

“And the truth comes out!”

“I was just annoyed because my sister kept bugging me to fill up your water. She was afraid you were gonna, like, get dehydrated and die or something.”

“Tell her I appreciate the concern.”

Alani laughs lightly, feeling a bit of relief when the breeze soothes her burning cheeks. The two of them make their way back into the restaurant and out the main entrance, padding down the boardwalk side by side. Harry never knows what to do with his hands, usually opting to stuff them into his pockets as he hurries down a busy street,  but he desperately wishes to occupy them a different way. His pinky involuntarily brushes the back of Alani’s hand, but he pulls away quickly to avoid freaking her out. She wishes he hadn’t. 

“What were you gonna do at the beach?” he asks to break the ice. 

She thinks for a moment, watching the different couples huddled together on the beach. “Relax, get some air. Do a little reading,”

“What’re you reading?”

“Currently this book about Laurel Canyon in California and some of the musicians who lived there during the 60s. You might like it,”

Harry’s brow raises. “Think so?”

“Yeah, it’s got Joni, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Mamas and the Papas, all those guys. They talk about their experiences of coming to terms with rapidly growing fame, the reality of the peace and love movement, the collaborative process. Seems like something you might find interesting—relatable, even,”

"I’ll check it out,” Harry promises with a nod. 

Alani smiles gently and refocuses her attention on the horizon. “So what were you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” Think about you. “But speaking of books and stuff, I‘ve been meaning to ask. When you become, you know, the next Pulitzer Prize winner, do I get to be your plus one?”

She scoffs, squinting under the bright sun to look up at him. “I don’t know, I have to make it first,”

“And what does ‘making it’ mean to you?” Harry had been trying to re-define success, himself, and was curious to hear Alani’s thoughts on the subject.

She ponders the question for a minute, adjusting the straps of her orange tank-top to occupy her anxious fingers. “Move to New York, work for some big publication, something like that,”

“New York?” he asks, slightly taken aback. “And leave all this behind?”

“I think I’d like the change,” Alani reasons. “I love it here more than anything, but I think I’ve gotta make my own way, my own decisions. My grandma used to say that you ‘gotta swim before you drown because the ocean’s too vast and too interesting to get stuck treading water in the same place,’”

Harry nods, understandingly. “Wise woman,”

“Carolina,” Alani says, using the Spanish pronunciation that sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “That was her name, I was named after her,”

“Middle name?”

“Yeah,” she clarifies. “I’m half Mexican on my mom’s side,”

He hums. “Ever been?”

“To Mexico?” Alani asks, proceeding when he nods. “Yeah. Once when I was like, five, we went to Xcaret for my aunt’s wedding,”

“It’s beautiful there,” Harry notes. 

“What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?” Alani questions, imagining all the stamps that must be in Harry’s passport. 

He thinks for a moment, a hum buzzing low in his throat as he sifts through his memory. “Probably Italy,”

“Lucky,” Alani muses, picturing the Gothic cathedrals that she longs to visit. 

“You’d like it there.” Harry says, truly believing it. A part of him felt that she belonged in every beautiful place he could think of. 

The two of them walk in silence for a few moments, each taking time to scope out the view around them. Alani sees a couple leaned against a staircase railing, looking deep in conversation, though probably not a pleasant one. 

“You think they’re breaking up?” Alani asks gently, nodding her head in their direction. “Or just having the talk?”

Harry scans the scenery before his eyes land on the pair that she's referring to. “Ah yes, the talk. Ye olde chat,”

“What do you think you’d be if you weren’t a musician?” She poses suddenly. He laughs to himself at the way Alani jumps from topic to topic and reasons that her mind must always be going a mile a minute. 

“A virgin,” Harry jokes, hoping that it’ll land. When she lets out a sudden, bright laugh, he looks over in relief. 

“God, you are so…” Alani trails off, shaking her head.

 He waits to see if she’ll finish the statement, but he doesn’t think she will. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to say. The more Alani learns about Harry, the more he seems to surprise her. One minute he can be serious and thoughtful. The next, a ray of sunshine—aloof and carefree. She finds herself anticipating his every move, every word, and loving each minute that he allows her to. It makes her head spin at times, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They journey down to the shore and discard their shoes in favor of feeling the cool sand beneath their toes. Alani tells Harry about the sea glass collection she had as a child, and he makes a mental note to scan the ground for any pieces she might like. She asks him if the beaches are nice in England, to which he responds a hard “no” compared to the ones in Hawaii or California. A couple of children splash in the shallow water nearby, and Alani doesn’t miss the fond look in Harry’s eye as he watches. Eventually, they wander back up to the main boardwalk when they spot a group of people  happily sipping milkshakes. Harry noticed her eyes following them, practically drooling, so he suggested it before she had to. 

“Want some?” Alani asks, her mouth full of strawberry. 

Harry gladly accepts, taking a sip from the straw that she holds out to him. He hums, letting the taste sit on his tongue before he offers  his own cup full of vanilla. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning over for a taste. The flavor is sweet and comforting to her, despite popular opinion that it’s boring. Alani swipes her tongue across her lower lip and thinks for a moment that this is what his mouth must taste like. She wishes she could verify this thought. 

“I’m really glad you got the strawberry,” he notes, stirring his drink with the straw. “I was having a serious crisis over what to get,”

“When in doubt, always go with the pink one,” Alani says, tapping her temple, and suddenly Harry remembers that the contents of her bag were all various shades of bubble gum and dusty rose. 

“It’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” he offers, taking another sip of his milkshake. 

“Paul Simonon?” she questions with narrowed eyes, instantly recognizing his reference to a quote from The Clash’s bassist.  

“Nothing gets past you.”

********

The clouds above start to resemble puffs of cotton candy, signaling that the day will soon draw to a close much to both Harry and Alani’s dismay. They lounge in the pink Cadillac, which is parked in an area that overlooks the entire beach, and take turns picking out the one lie amongst two truths about one another; it was a game that Harry had proposed. 

“Is it,” Alani starts, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “The four nipples?”

Harry makes a buzzer sound effect through his own laughter, temple resting against his fist as his arm drapes over the seat. 

“Wrong-o, sorry,”

“What?!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “You’re messing with me,”

“Am not,” he defends proudly. 

Alani lets out a surprised chuckle, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t believe you,”

“I’d prove it,” he shrugs. “But then I’d have to flash you,”

“Guess we’ll never know, then,” 

Their laughter settles down and the only sound between them is the crashing of waves in the distance. Harry lets his eyes trail down the slope of Alani’s nose to her cupid’s bow—dangerous territory. Little does he know, Alani does the same, noting the fact that his lips are heart-shaped and the perfect shade of strawberry. How sickeningly charming, she thinks. Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and there’s something hidden behind the sea-glass that she can’t quite read. The air becomes charged and the two of them are like magnets, drawn inexplicably towards one another. Alani inches closer, her heart pounding so violently in her chest, she’s afraid that he can hear it. The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears prevents this, however, as he leans in too. The space between them gets smaller, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, when the high pitched ringing of Alani’s phone sends her jolting backward. Harry curses every deity that he can name. 

“Hello?” she responds, turning her back to him. She listens for a minute, a soft “mhmm” escaping every few seconds. “Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,” 

Alani dreads having to turn back to Harry and face the consequences of whatever lines were almost crossed. She chooses to simply ignore it all together, as if no time had passed between his shocking personal revelation and the ringing of her phone. 

“Stevie’s ready.” she says weakly. 

Harry swallows down his frustration and offers a polite smile. “Let’s go get her.”

The mechanic shop is twenty minutes from the beach; Harry and Alani spend the entire ride in silence. Neither of them address the almost kiss despite the fact that it hangs over their heads like a raincloud of uncertain emotion. She occupies her gaze with the scenery whizzing past while he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Alani mourns the fact that their little bubble had been popped so soon, but she figures that it’s for the best. Don’t get attached, she reminds herself. Easier said than done. Harry also wallows in the aftermath of the interruption, wishing he had acted sooner. When they finally arrive at the shop, the mechanic reveals that the cause of her car troubles was a simple dead battery. Harry offers to foot the bill, but Alani refuses, deciding that she shouldn’t accept any more favors from him in order to restore the boundary. 

“So I guess this is where we part ways,” Alani says gently, toying with her keys. 

Harry scans his brain for something—anything—a single excuse to see her again, and soon. He doesn’t think he can take another week and a half of icy silence and he has a suspicion that she can’t either. After all, she had leaned in, too—hadn’t she?

“There’s this thing,” he blurts out. “A sort of jam sesh at the studio tomorrow night. There’s gonna be booze, otherwise I’d tell you to bring your sister. But I’d love for you to come, and I think it might be good for—the article, or something,”

Alani weighs the pros and cons in her mind, one of which he had already mentioned: a chance to listen to what he’s working on. It seemed professional and innocent enough, not to mention the fact that there’d be other people around to keep them in check. Once she decides it’s safe, she nods. 

“Okay, sure,”

“I can pick you up,” Harry offers. 

Alani shakes her head gently and offers a shy smile. “No, that's okay. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.”

They exchange good-byes and Alani thanks him for coming to her rescue, to which he offers a modest shrug. Harry speeds down the highway and back to the house, but three words linger in the silence. 

I’ll be there.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Another Crazy Plan (Sriracha, Part 24.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part summary: Family life can be described as something spectacularly beautiful - when everyone's playing by the same rules. You clearly were not, which ended up in a huge argument.

A/N: We can't have easy peasy lemon squeezy Hopper all the time, can we? Because life isn't always easy peasy lemon squeezy with him.

Warnings: Angst, Eleven being one (1) angry bean.

Word count: 2.8 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

The family life you chose for was treating each of you well. Hopper put on a bit of weight and he started to take care of himself again as well. Eleven was starting to speak like other girls her age did, plus she really enjoyed cooking with you. And you?

Well, you had a loving man by your side and a beautiful baby girl you could call yours at the end of the day. What could be more than that? Eleven knew that you're not her real mom, she wasn't that dumb, but that didn't stop her from calling you so. And soon enough, you would turn at that name, accepting it as yours.

But really, it wouldn't be your relationship with Hopper is something didn't go downhill at the end of the day, would it? The day came when you were spending your time with El at the cabin, being bored out of your mind again, because Eleven was doing her homework and you had literally nothing to do. The bathroom was cleaned so much it shone, the bedroom was all tidied up, the laundry was done, the lunch was ready...

If you were fed up with the cabin after one single weekend, how must've Eleven felt? She was there for seven months. Almost seven months. She must've felt so, so, so frustrated and alone. And that was when the shitty idea was born.

"Hey, the homework can wait, what do you say?" - You asked and sat beside her, making her look at you. Eleven adored when you smoothed her back and gave her a smile like that. You looked really pretty and she felt just good to have a momma like that. - "I want to take you out, to have some fun. We need to buy some groceries, what do you say?"

The finger poking the tip of her nose was tickling her, yet she didn't smile at all. You wanted her to leave the cabin? Why? What for? For how long? She panicked.

"But... Papa and bad men." - She whispered, shaking her head. Hopper specifically instructed her not to leave the cabin at all costs until everything settles down. She was safe there. And you were offering her... - "What if they see? Danger." - She caught your other palm in hers, furrowing at you, shaking her head. - "Not allowed."

"Eleven, I'll protect you. Nobody knows you're here, nobody will see. I swear, baby." - You whispered back, taken away by her unapproving reaction. You imagined this going way differently than Eleven disagreeing. - "Just for one day, you are allowed to go out with me. I'll get you ice cream, how does that sound?"

"Leaving the cabin is stupid. And we're not stupid." - She looked you in the eyes, meaning every word of her speech. Hopper told her this many times. You were leaving the cabin because of school and word. He was leaving for work. And Eleven wasn't allowed to leave, because it would be stupid to show herself out there... Just like that and for no apparent reason.

"Eleven." - You put your hand on her jaw to make her look at you once again. - "Please. You need to get out of the cabin... At least once. I'll take you somewhere where anyone gets a chance to recognize you, I'll hold your hand the whole time and I know just the perfect ice cream waffle to buy you on the way home." - You pleaded. She was your baby girl. You took care of her for months and the last thing you wanted was to see her rot in the cabin. And that was exactly what she was doing. Eleven took a deep breath, putting her pen down.

"Hopper. He will be angry." - She said. It could be heard that she's fighting herself inside her head. She loved the idea of you taking her out to the town. Just to shop. She saw moms just taking their girls to the town daily to the city. And she wanted it as well, so desperately it almost hurt. She just wanted to be normal.

"He won't know if you won't tell him. It can be our little secret." - You kissed her forehead lightly and that was the exact moment she gave in. Just one afternoon, she and her mom walking around the city, having fun. What could go wrong?

"Okay. I promise." - She held her pinky up and looked at your hand. That was a gesture she learned from you and Hopper. You usually bet on the chores or cooking, and this was a way of Hopper promising you the reward afterward. A promise. That was what pinkies entwined meant. And you circled yours around hers, smiling. - "I promise and friends don't lie." - Eleven repeated once again and you nodded, slowly getting up from the chair.

Both of you got ready - you put on just some denim shorts and an old flannel shirt since it was a hot spring day outside. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the birds were singing and flowers blooming. It looked just beautiful.

El took out her favorite dress with small flowers printed all over them. Even if it was a warm and sunny day, you packed her a denim jacket just to be sure that she'd have something to snuggle into in case she would get cold. When you felt like she's ready, you started the car - Talking In Your Sleep suddenly yelling all over the car. You laughed and turned the volume down, watching Eleven with a warm feeling in your eyes. She freaked out and was looking at you as if she never heard a radio play so loud. 

“Sorry for that, I forgot that I have it on so loud.” - You smiled and put sunglasses over your eyes, doing your seatbelt. - “That's my and Hopper's playlist. I listen to it every morning while I drive to college, thinking about both you.” - You said with a smile and drove out of the forest, turning the car at Bloomington. 

“Your and Hopper's playlist.” - She wondered and looked out of the window, watching the surroundings moving at such a ridiculous speed. It almost seemed that Eleven is running really fast; or that she's not moving at all and the world is spinning fast. She liked riding in a car. - “I know this.” - She pointed at the radio, listening to the Romantics.

“You do? I've never played it at home, how come you know it?” - You looked at her, then again out of the car, giving her a piece of bubblegum. 

“Nancy. I heard Nancy.” - She tried to explain, but she knew that her vocabulary is not on the level to explain something so complicated to you. You rose your eyebrows, nodding. She must've heard some Nancy listen to it. - “Nancy... Is that your friend form the lab?” - You asked quietly, letting her know that there's no pressure, that she can take her time before answering your question and that she doesn't have to answer at all if she doesn't feel like it.

But Eleven shook her head almost immediately, chewing on the menthol gum. - “She is pretty. Mike's sister. It would be weird if they would go to Snow Ball together.” - She tried to explain, but the last sentence threw you off the rail. Snow Ball. That was a ball for kids happening on Hawkins Middle every winter and you always loved it. How could Eleven know about it? But you decided to focus on Mike. 

“Mike... Is he your friend or something?” - You asked and turned right on the next road as well. Eleven took a while to think of an answer before she nodded at the thoughts she had on her mind.

“He is a friend. He told me that friends don't lie. He lives in Hawkins.” - She described Mike in the best way she could and at that moment, you had a small revelation. Mike and Nancy... Mike and Nancy. Could these two be the...

“Mike and Nancy Wheeler? You have these two on your mind?” - You asked curiously and Eleven nodded immediately. Her gaze wondered about you knowing the Wheelers. - “Oh, Nancy was a freshman when I graduated. She was fine, we never started being friends, tho. Plus Wheelers live in Hawkins since forever, so my parents know their parents.”

The rest of the ride was rather quiet since you both listened to the collection from the Romantics - What I Like About You and A Night Like This were your jams since you and Jim started to listen to the Romantics together, so you mumbled each word of those songs by heart.

You were real with what you've told to Eleven - you took her to a grocery shopping, taking her hand to yours and not letting it slide the whole time. ou bought vegetables, fruit, cereals, you let her choose some sweets; to say it quickly, you have made yourself some stocks for the whole week in the cabin. She was curious about a lot of things, getting stuck for a while sometimes, just looking at it. 

Nobody was looking at you two. You were just a girl and an adult woman shopping together. Nothing more, nothing less; just you two walking around in a grocery shop, talking and holding hands all the time. When you were done with groceries, you stopped at a lonely bistro, where Eleven got the waffle with ice cream you promised her earlier that day. And it was her favorite thing ever. 

You got her a frozen Eggo filled with chocolate and strawberry ice cream and frozen raspberries. And it was so good. 

Unfortunately, as every good day, even this one had to come to an end. And you end was a Blazer standing on the driveway. At that exact moment, you knew that you're grandiosely fucked. Hopper was at home sooner than you - he usually came home at quarter past eight, but that day was obviously an exception. It wasn't even six o'clock and Blazer was already parked there. 

“El.” - You turned at her, turning the engine off. - “No matter what happens, you will go to your room, close the door and let me and Hopper talk, alright? We might not go easy on each other, but you need to stay in your bedroom.” 

“Won't go easy?” - Eleven repeated after you and you sighed, taking the paper bags with gricer. 

“We will be yelling at each other, I might cry, I might say something nasty, leave... but I'll be back. I'll come back no matter what, okay?” - You smiled and cautiously stepped over the tripwire and Eleven mirrored your actions. 

You could say that Hopper is pissed straight off the bat. One look and you knew that you fucked up big time. But to his bad luck, you weren't that wallflower who would take his bullshit. You were ready to kick his fucking ass. You took one of the bags from Eleven, who looked guilty, worried and about to cry. You put the bags on the table, kissing your forehead, sending her off to the bedroom. 

But you didn't pay Hopper any direct attention after that - he was a fucking diva and you weren't about to give in. And when you ignored him for five minutes straight, he started talking. Slowly, but he started. 

“What do you think you're doin', Y/N?” - Jim whispered unbelievably as you put the groceries on their place. 

“I was shopping. Are you blind or what?” - You asked back in the same, sarcastic tone of voice. Hopper was trying to keep the temper controlled, but in the next moment, he exploded. 

“Do you even realize how much danger you put her both you and her into? If someone from the government would see her if someone had noticed her if...” - He raised his voice, but you turned around and show your index finger directly to his voice as you both stood opposite each other. 

“No-one saw us, Hopper. Do I look like an incapable idiot to you? Do you even care why did I take her to Bloomington?” - You hissed. The tone of your voice said everything your words hadn't. A huge argument was starting and you planned telling Hopper everything you thought of him keeping Eleven there. Every last thought you had, he was about to hear it. 

“There are rules we agreed on. And no, I don't know that did you think about as you drove away, but you acted like a five-year-old fuckin' brat again.” - He pointed back at you. You could start yelling now, yes, but you just smiled, which threw Hopper off the rails completely.

“Oh, oh, oh.” - You laughed, putting your hands on your hips. - “So I am a fucking brat. Well, thanks for that, because you're letting that girl rot in this fucking cabin. And I very much prefer being a brat over being a fucking tyrant.” - You yelled at him, throwing him off the rails even more. - “I love her, Hopper. I took her as my own, I haven't told my mom, I found a job, I study college and I have a total jackass by my side, and yet, I am still here. So stop telling me what I am and what am I not, or I'm leaving and you can take your fucking proposal back.” 

And since that moment, you started to argue a big time. You yelled at each other things about your relationship, Eleven, the fucking cabin, the age difference, the way he cooked - you argued about everything. You threw a plate on the ground while Hopper stuck to pointing his finger at you. But just at that moment, Eleven opened up the door to her room.

She promised you that she won't leave the room, but you were harsh on Hopper - just as Hopper was harsh on you. She ran in front of you, crying like crazy, looking at Hopper. 

“LEAVE MOMMA BE.” - She yelled at him. Since that moment, you barely knew what happened - Hopper wanted to tell Eleven something, but she started screaming (and she went fully in) before he just suddenly flipped on his back. After that, Eleven hugged you and cried, even more, blood was dripping out of her nose. 

She almost let you know that she has superpowers, but you thought that maybe Jim just lost balance and fell on his ass. This was too damn close for Hopper. And he had to look at the consequences of your actions - that little girl was terrified, she hugged you so tight that you could barely breathe while you looked at Hopper with tears in your eyes, starting to cry as well. 

Slowly, Jim sat a bit away from you, watching both you and Eleven crying. 

“Were you... Were you serious about leavin' me? And her?” - He asked after a while. You shot a look at him, reaching your palm to catch him, so he slowly moved closer to both of you. 

“Are you crazy? I would never.” - You whispered and leaned into his shoulder, cradling Eleven. - “I'm sorry about taking her out. I just wanted to see her happy.” - You whispered and looked at him. You loved that man, even if you didn't take any of his fucking bullshit. Jim was your rock just as you were his. And you hurt him and his trust. 

“You're right and I knew that. She can't be locked here all the time, all alone. But... I can't take her anywhere since she's wanted.” - James smoothed Eleven's shoulder carefully, letting his hand rest there a little. And at that moment, you had another idea. And this one wasn't as shitty as the Bloomington one. 

“What if we tell my parents? They are living in the suburb, their house and garden are secluded, they have a swimming pool and the house is large. They will be curious about her and us... Yeah... But they might help up. And Eleven will be safe.” - You postponed and Jim furrowed a bit. 

But he needed to say - it was a great idea. 

[dearyams]

a long day

@dazedbyeler​: headcanon ; Will screaming into his pillow after Mike does something cute [x]

————————————

It was going to be a long day.

Not long as in the number of hours Will was up—no, he woke up pretty late for even a Saturday—or the fact that as the summer solstice approached, daylight technically lasted longer. It was going to be long as in mental exhaustion, though it wasn’t even really exhaustion for him. Was he stressed? No more than usual in most aspects. A lot more than usual for one in particular.

See, Will woke up late on a Saturday that had long been planned to be the day the Party started up Mike’s newest campaign. Mike even promised he wouldn’t be over too long at Hopper’s cabin to ensure that the four could spend the entire day in the basement tossing saving throws and laughing at Mike’s hilariously in-character role-played monsters and NPCs. Max was even going to stop by and watch—“Watch? You mean critique my voices as if I haven’t spent years crafting my creepy goblin voice,” Mike had whined the night before as he laid on the couch and tossed a grape into his mouth, only to choke on it and give Will a mild heart attack in the process. The point being: this Saturday was important for everyone and was planned to be the best Saturday in the entire year so far.

Despite his joy and overwhelming excitement at starting a new campaign with his friends, Will overslept. That got his friends worried, worried enough that Will woke up to Mike frantically knocking on his window and yelling for Will. “Don’t be dead, Byers, or I’ll bring you back to life and strangle you for it!” It was only testimony to the room’s thin walls that Will managed to hear Mike. The boy was obviously teasing—he couldn’t fight for his life and after Will beat his ass during an impromptu wrestling match five years back, he didn’t bother and left the rough housing to Dustin and Lucas—but even through sleep’s last languorous dregs, Will could hear the underlying concern that bleed in every word. That pure, unadulterated concern and the annoying rap of knuckles on glass that crept through his dream—a dream that left him red-faced and glaring at his wall in hopes that the lingering phantom touch from Mike’s hand in his would soon disappear—was enough disturbance to wake him.

Will turned over to face his window and stared. Mike was glaring at him. He was petulant as always with a pout on his lips and Will couldn’t help himself if his eyes found focus on those curved lips. He tried not to think about what that meant and let his gaze wander upwards. Mike’s freckled cheeks were pink and flushed from exertion. His eyes were bright as usual, carrying the stars night left behind when melting into day. His hair was messy in a wind-blow way since he was fresh off his bike ride to the Byers’ residence. Will let the guise of sleep allow him a few more seconds to stare and take in the beautiful sight before him. He had been dreaming about holding hands with Mike just a few minutes ago, being blushy and pressing his lips to those very same pink cheeks—oh.

Mike seemed to notice Will was actually staring at him and his hard glare loosened into a soft smile. He waved excitedly before pressing his palms up against the window. Will was mentally tossed back in time to a point before Mike was tall enough to even press against the window as he did. Back when the boy would press his nose to the cold plane and all Will could see was his bright brown eyes as he watched and waited for Will. In a melancholy way, Will missed those days, but he didn’t think about it for long as he also questioned why Mike hadn’t simply gone to the front door and barged into his room as he usually did.

Will slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before he yawned. He stretched his arms and then padded to the window to open it. Fresh air filtered through his room. Mike pulled back and then leaned on the window sill with an infectious grin. “Thought you’d never wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he drawled, blinking when Will shoved a hand in his face to push him back. “Hey!”

“Don’t call me that unless you want me to call you Prince Charming.”

The implications in that statement went unsaid but surprisingly, instead of sneering and retching like Dustin might do, Mike flushed a bright red. Red was a good color on him, especially with late spring’s sun casting warm rays over his pale skin. “What?” he exclaimed before shaking his head so fast Will was worried he might injure his neck. “No. No, don’t do that. I’m teasing you, Will.” He looked at his watch and then tapped the screen in a poor attempt to change the subject. “It’s already, 1:30! What were you doing last night? I thought I went home pretty early so you could wake up on time today.”

Will frowned and tried to recall what he had done but he mostly remembered listening to a few songs with Jonathan after Mike left and then called it a night. His mind wandered back to the dream and he coughed into his fist in hopes to let that action cover up his blush. “I didn’t do much after you left.” he sent Mike a smirk. “I guess hanging out with you is draining me these days.”

It was gentle teasing just as much as Mike had done earlier, but Mike...he was really acting weird today. He stiffened and then pulled back from the window sill as he rubbed at his neck. “Oh. I, uh, I can come over less if you’d like. I don’t mean to be a bother.”

Will balked. “You’re not a bother.” He felt the insane urge to reach out and grab Mike’s hands but he was never brave enough for that. Sure, he could survive living in another dimension on his own for a week and he could beat an interdimensional shadow monster from taking over his mind for almost a year, but acting on whatever these romantic urges were? Hard pass. He couldn’t risk ruining what good he had with Mike, not after everything they’d been through together.

“Eh,” Mike shrugged and scuffed his shoes against the dirt. “If you say so.”

“I mean it, really,” Will leaned on his side of the window sill and looked up into wandering brown eyes. “You know you’re always welcome; Mom loves having you over anyway.”

“Mrs. Byers is great,” laughed Mike and his cheerful attitude came back with a quickness. Will wasn’t even sure if seeing Mike so sad had really happened. “And I guess you’re pretty great, too.”

Will rolled his eyes but when he focused back on Mike, he felt his next words lodge in his throat much like the grape Mike had almost died eating last night. Mike was...he was so handsome. Messy black hair curling at the edges, bright brown eyes echoing emotions that would never leave his mouth, pink cheeks, gentle smile on his curved lips and oh, oh, his voice—how it’d gotten deeper in the past few months and how just then, when he called Will great, it got a little deeper still and so gentle. Will didn’t know how to describe what it felt like to hear that voice directed at him. It was a warm blanket fresh out the dryer or maybe a toasty fire in the fireplace after spending hours in the cold. It was the loud cheers from the Party when they defeated the boss level monster in the campaign or the giggled whispers from his sleeping bag buddy when the Party gathered together for a weekend sleepover.

And then Will knew how to describe it because there was only ever going to be one way to describe the way Mike talked to him, the way Mike looked at him, the way Mike existed with him. That way was Mike being, well, Mike Wheeler. This boy here, with the crooked grin and the shy eyes and the pink cheeks and the stupid blue polo shirt stretched over his broadening shoulders and Will’s palpitating heart in his unknowing soft hands, was simply Mike Wheeler and that was enough to explain it all. He was so infuriatingly cute and Will didn’t know him to be any way but, even when he was in a cantankerous mood.

“I’ll come around front and say hi to your mom,” the boy declared firmly enough to snap Will from his dopey trance. Will leaned away from the window and nodded silently. “You can eat over at my place if you want. You know, so you don’t have to worry about stuffing your face in a rush now.”

“Okay,” was all Will could muster from his throat. He hoped he didn’t sound like a croaking sick man.

Mike cocked his head to the side with a puppy-like frown. So stupidly cute. “Are you okay? If you’re sick, you don’t have to worry about it. We can reschedule.”

“I’m fine; I’ll shower, get dressed, and meet you inside.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mike grinned even wider and waved Will off with his fingers, an oddly shy but equally adorable little wave that had Will blinking as Mike grabbed his bike and strode away.

Will closed his window with a heavy sigh and then bit his bottom lip until he was sure the skin under his teeth turned white. He turned to his bed, plopped down onto it back first, and closed his eyes to calm his rapidly beating heart. Will’s brain kept replaying Mike’s little wave and his soft voice and his flushed cheeks and his cute head tilt and—

The brunette clenched his fists and turned to scream into his pillow, unable to keep his bubbling emotions inside any longer. He was going to die, positively and absolutely die, from Mike being this goddamn adorable without even trying. Did he know what he was doing to Will’s heart? Did he know Will turned to Halloween in ‘84 as means to appease himself when the nightmares got so bad? Did he know Will was weak to his stupid gangly charms in a manner no different from a moth always attracted to the light even if the light killed it? Did he know, did he know, did he know, should he know, should he know, should he—

No.

Will pulled his face from the pillow and then gripped it in his arms as his throat started to burn. Stupid. He tried to make this stop so many times. He screamed into his pillow as the days went by in hopes that once his throat got sore enough his body would stop associating Mike with this...this futile thing Will refused to put a name to even though he knew what he felt. And yet it had been months filled with muffled screams and harrowed sighs, lingering glances and internal yearning, and Mike was still cute and dorky and everything Will wanted in a...more-than-friend.

You mean boyfriend, his mind tratoriously provided.

Will blushed furiously and pulled the pillow back to his face for another muffled groan as he thought about Mike being his boyfriend. His dream would become reality and that was so far-fetched yet his foolish heart found it still attainable. When he heard Mike’s voice as he chatted with his mom, Will sat up and scrambled toward his dresser to grab clothes to hop into before sprinting down the hall toward the bathroom before he could get a glimpse at Mike. If he spotted Mike talking with his mom so easily like he usually did, like he belonged in this house conversing with Will’s mom as if she was his own mom, Will would either combust on the spot or immediately ask Mike to make it official and date him already.

When Will strode back to his room to toss his dirty clothes in the hamper, he spotted Mike laying on his stomach on the bed. The boy had his chin in his hands as he watched Will and then jumped to his feet with a sigh. “You ready to go?”

Will shoved at his shoulder. “Always, Wheeler.”

Mike shot him a bashful grin and right then and there, Will knew it was going to be a long day. A long day filled with the mental gymnastics he was going to have to pull to keep this secret under lock and key. A long day filled with stress brought by caring about Mike the way he did. A long day but a fun day because as Mike biked down a hill and whooped as the wind blew back his messy locks, Will couldn’t help but smile and cheer along with his best friend. Sure, once he biked back home, he’d probably think back on Mike’s soft nudges even though he wasn’t supposed to be giving special hints as DM, and equally soft smiles when Will got the hint and Dustin and Lucas playfully whined about Mike playing favorites, and when thinking about that Will would find himself face first in his pillow muffling his frustrated noises, but...it was worth it. His heart said that said the dream was attainable and Will wouldn’t let that fire die out.

Eventually, he’d be able to grab that same pillow, shove it in Mike’s face, and listen to Mike laugh before he pulled him in for a kiss.

[shepherdsvoice]

2020

Part of me wants to say that 2020 was just a terrible year. And in some ways it was. But I can’t ignore that in so many ways it wasn’t. In the macro, it was, for the most part, a pretty terrible year. It was a year of frustration and anger and disillusionment and violence and disappointment. I fear that it is a year that will have long-lasting and far-reaching repercussions. But in the micro, I am blessed to say that I was not too affected by the situation. I know that I could have and should have conducted myself with more grace and patience this year. I let my anger and frustration and worry take a hold of me and I took it out on those around me. But when I put aside those emotions, I can appreciate all the blessings I received.

I am grateful for all the unexpected time I got to spend with family this year. I am so grateful for the seven months I spent with Mom. Probably the last time we’ll ever live together again and maybe the closest we’ll ever be. I am grateful for that strange spring and that loooong summer that in some ways doesn’t feel like it happened at all. I am grateful for watching the sun rise most mornings from the sunny little office that I painted yellow. Watching the first wisps of pink crest the hill and illuminate the dew on the lawn and the grey cat on the fence and the roses blossoming on the bush in the back corner of the garden and the downy white blooms on the crepe myrtles. I am grateful for the chill of the hardwood floors in the morning and the baking heat as the sun shone full through the windows in the afternoon. I am grateful for calling to Rosie through the thin, warped glass windows as she lay on the deck or sniffed under the gate. I am grateful for Friday Facetime sessions with Ngawang. Sitting in the sweltering office and talking about nothing and everything. Making plans for future trips and lamenting what the world had come to. I am grateful for sitting on the top step in the afternoon when I was finished with work. Listening to Genesis or Leviticus, drinking strawberry milk or eating berries or an acai bowl, the sun browning my back and Rosie coming to sit beside me, nudging her head under my arm. I am grateful for throwing the Frisbee with her and playing keep away and running around the back yard under blindingly blue afternoon skies or beneath pale pink and purple sunsets as the crows squawked and returned to their roosts in the tall trees on the ridge.

I am grateful for my morning chats with Mom. Walking into her room once I finished my morning meetings, and commiserating about the news and laughing about our lack of plans and lamenting her empty retirement and complaining about my boss and talking about the neighbors who passed by on their morning walks and boxing with Rosie as she lay at the end of the bed. I am grateful for afternoons on the front porch, watching the little world go by on C Street, joking with Steve and Bill, playing American Trivia, reading languorous novels while Mom read the paper, looking at houses on Zillow and whiling away the long afternoon hours. I am grateful for weekend mornings at the dog park. For walking up the hill in invariably inconvenient shoes then sitting high on the bench at Gerstle Park as Rosie trudged through the ivy and did her looping patrol of the hillside. Or sunny, windy days at Mill Valley Park, watching dogs reluctantly run the agility course or race across the broad lawn after a ball or Frisbee or dive unhesitatingly into the muddy shore of the bay. And I am so grateful for mornings at Piper Park. Sitting on our favorite bench beneath the thin maple, looking out across the verdant lawn at Mt Tam standing sentinel over us with Hall nestled in the middle ground where I spent so many hours playing soccer or sitting in a circle with my friends in the back corner of the field or laughing over our lunches at the picnic tables. I am grateful for the familiar faces at the park, the people whose dogs’ names we knew but not their own. I am grateful for iced chai’s sipped on the park bench as mom and I talked about our school days while Rosie lay panting in the tall grass behind us in the shade of the great willow tree looking out at the high creek.

I am grateful for our afternoon drives when there was nothing else to do. For the chance to explore Marin. Driving down Center Street through sleepy Fairfax and over the hill to San Geronimo. Cows and granite boulders and scraggly trees dotting the fields that crept up the hillsides as hawks circled overhead. I am grateful for that long, straight road through that wild, wonderful country. I am grateful for the shaded windy road through the redwoods towards Nicasio and the little white school house on the corner. I am grateful for the backroads towards Petaluma past the Nicasio Reservoir with hills so vibrantly green and rolling and tranquil that I was reminded of Ireland. I am grateful for the turn onto Petaluma Road and the lazy bends up the hill with sudden vistas of the valley below. And I am grateful for the 37 towards Sonoma and Napa, for the horses on the hill and the bridges over the bay and the beached boat on the side of the road and the long low lane through the marshes. And I am grateful for all the laughs and talks we had during those drives while bluegrass and rap and oldies and classic rock played on the stereo. I am grateful for afternoons at Stinson and Rodeo when we could forget the wider world and enjoy the simple beauty that California still has to offer as we watched dogs and children frolic in the surf and dig in the sand.

I am grateful for my trip with Michelle and Dash. For honky tonk country music and long lazy drives through the central valley and the sunshine in LA and the quiet of Utah and the vastness of the sky and the rainbows of Bryce Canyon and the awe-inspiring beauty of Zion and the blinding white of the Booneville Salt Flats and the gaudiness of the Las Vegas Strip and my grueling hike with Dash and our long talks on the road or in the evening. I am grateful for the time I got to spend with Michelle. For our tours through the City and the East Bay, spending the whole day exploring and talking and complaining and laughing, agreeing on so much. For our dinner on New Year’s Eve, driving to a hilltop in South SF and eating dumplings out of to-go containers and exchanging Christmas gifts and trying to make sense of the craziness of this year. I am grateful for the time I got to spend with her family. At her niece’s birthday party while the children splashed in the pool and her dad told me about Nauru. And at Samuel P Taylor as we sat around the campfire and sang Russian and Slovakian folk as Steve strummed along on the guitar. And at Labor Day weekend with Mom, eating hotdogs with Michelle’s parents under the sprawling oak in their backyard and seeing Lenka and Janka and Kimmie and Alex. Mom and I talking on the way home about the unique sadness of being an only child and the joy that a big family brings.

And I am grateful for my three trips to Hawaii this year. And especially for this last one. I am so grateful for cool mornings on the lanai, watching the shadows recede across the lawn and the sea lighten from grey to blue in the morning sun, the myna birds stirring and shrieking, me slowly drinking my guava juice while reading or embroidering and then sitting with Dad and talking about movies and psychology and ideas for articles and albums. I am grateful for morning walks on the beach, for the dogs and the surfers and the damp sand and flip-flops left in the shade and the waves creeping up the shore. I am grateful for lunches on the lanai or at Hula or Mama’s. For the tropical rainstorm at Hula Grill as I drank my strawberry daiquiri and for the light rain at Mama’s as the colossal waves crashed against the coast. I am grateful for drives along the seaside while music played, with the multi-hued ocean to one side and the steep, sculptured mountains shrouded in fog on the other. I am grateful for lazy afternoons napping and reading and playing trivial and scrabble and cards. For time to be together and relax. I am grateful for home cooked meals, the three of us joining hands around the table for grace and piling the plates to one side to talk after we’ve finished eating. I am grateful for our dinner at Spago’s, watching the sun set behind the palms and the lights illuminate the beach, sharing sushi and keeping an eye out for celebrities. And I am grateful for nights after dinner watching good movies and bad. Talking through plot points, arguing about Gal Gadot’s attractiveness, predicting the storyline of Soul, and marveling at the athleticism of Gene Kelly. I am grateful for the warmth and beauty and slowness of Maui.

I am grateful for the breath-taking sunset that I saw from the plane last night, the sun dipping down into the Pacific and bathing the hills of Pacifica in gold while the city sparkled farther north. I am grateful for the sunrise I saw today from the back of an Uber on the New Jersey Turnpike, the sky confetti pink and yellow, silhouetting the Manhattan skyline across the Hudson.

This has been a hard year. A trying year. But a year for growth and reflection and pause. A year that threw most of my goals and hopes out the window but that gave me so many other blessings in return. This was the first year since 2013 that I did not leave the country. I got to spend 365 days in the country that I love so much and I got to explore new parts of it and fall in love with it more even as I worry over its future. I spent every holiday this year with people I love, Fourth of July with Dad and Susan, my birthday with Mom and Ray, Thanksgiving with Ngawang and Aja and Deanna and Abina and Ritcha and Christmas and New Year’s with Dad and Susan and Mom and Michelle. I must admit that I am glad that 2020 is over but I am thankful that I lived it.

[afteralliamonlyhuman]

A 2020 Recap

Oh, what a year it’s been. A year full of disappointments, at that. I thought I’d take you on a recap of what 2020 looked like for me. I know some people had it much worse, and I know some had it made. For me, it felt like the bad news was never-ending. This year really became a year that I was able to re-evaluate those who were in my life as well as what I wanted to do with my life. 2020 felt like just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, a platter full of bad news was served back to back just to make sure you knew that it could get worse. 

January I was still working a full time management retail job with odd hours, juggling my kids back and forth to my parents since my kids were not in school yet. In the back of mind, I felt mentally exhausted because I knew this was not something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I got up for work everyday, grateful for the opportunity, but dreaded the everyday interaction of thefts, bad associates, and work drama. I began to feel guilty of the time I lost not being able to spend it with my kids or family because although it was only 40 hours of my life given to retail, one day I’d work 8-4:30 and the next 1-9:30. I’d have one weekend off a month and closed every other Saturday. The 40 hours felt like it stretched out to 50-60 hours and my social time was limited even more with the little friends that I had. Lately my anxiety started to creep up more often and lingered around longer than usual. I just couldn’t figure out what was triggering it. I couldn’t sleep well and my nightmares continued. 

February Maybe God knew how I was feeling so he had plans for me. For the second time in a row, I got laid off. I lost my job right before the world shut down due to a global pandemic, and this was even before I knew what was truly coming. I was devastated. I had my kids to take care of, the child support that was ordered from ex was inconsistent and my car payment was over $400, along with some credit card payments, insurance, and phone bill. I remember calling my ex-husband on the way home and crying to him, not even able to get a word out on why I was calling him. He just continued to ask me over and over again what was wrong. He was out of town at the time so I somehow convinced him that I would talk to him later. Right before I got laid off, I had hired his sister so eventually word got out and I’m assuming she told her family that I got laid off. I’m not sure til this day how word spread. I took a moment and did a hard reality check at this point. I could either cry everyday because life seemed to have shut me down in many ways up until this point or I could move on and keep trying because at the end of the day, would could I do to change the fact that it is what it is? I applied for numerous jobs. Everyday I logged onto Indeed and searched. I applied for entry jobs to management positions, to part time, to weekends, and full-time. Anything I could possibly get to somehow received a  little bit of my pride back as a single mother. 

March News started to spread about a new virus called Coronavirus. I didn’t know much about it at the time. All I knew was that it was spreading fast, it came over from another country, and it was high risk. Suddenly, we’re hit with a two week quarantine. Restaurants/bars, gyms, stores, and businesses closed down. The two week quarantine extended for a month. Toilet paper, hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, and cleaning supplies became an all time high demand. Masks and gloves were highly recommended. I spent all day, everyday stuck in the house. Occasionally going outside with my kids to get some fresh air. My life was “normal” just a month ago, how come I’m ordered to stay home all of a sudden? A lot didn’t make sense at this time. School shut down in fear, hoping to return after spring break. Spring break came and went, and the superintendent made the announcement that school would be closed down and digital learning would take place for the remainder of the year. Parents panicked to find sitters because although majority of places closed down, some jobs were considered essential and they were still expected to go in and work everyday.

April I was still looking for a job. At this point, I had not heard back from any of the 100+ jobs I had applied to. Because of quarantine, all the businesses were closed down so I was basically applying to closed businesses. What a weird time. Although I was in this position, I was thankful of the time I was spent with my kids. I went from spending limited time and hours with the girls to have all the time in the day. I loved it. The one month quarantine extended to two months. Still, at this point, I felt like some people weren’t taking this virus seriously. The cases were updated daily and it continued to rise but it was mainly all in the bigger cities. Those who lived in the smaller cities still went about their days. All the necessities were still low in stock. News came out at this point that Lysol would not be able to come back up from their demand until 2021. I finally made the decision to go back to school. I got my paperwork ready and reapplied. I can probably find jobs that I can work but if it’s not something I’m happy with, I might as well take this time to pursue what I really want to do. I got back in. I got accepted and I was finally able to put my life back on track to finishing my dental hygiene degree.

May We celebrated Mother’s Day and my mom’s birthday. This was the first time since quarantine that my family came together. Yes, we broke social distancing rules, but we’ve all been home for months now and we all needed a little social time. From seeing your family every weekend or every other weekend to once or twice every few months was hard to adjust. My parents felt lonelier than ever. The grandkids weren’t able to see their grandma and grandpa for months. Again, what a strange time. 

June Summer was getting hotter and we were still stuck inside. I took my kids out daily during the evening to let out their energy. I ended up buying them both bikes so they could ride around the neighborhood while I walked. I gained quarantine weight. Not working and eating all day was definitely showing. Searching for work was still a weekly thing. We got a stimulus check and for those who were claiming unemployment got an additional unemployment check to help with bills. This helped me so much during times of uncertainty. 

July My brother and his family along with me and my two kids took a trip to Florida right before July 4th. What a sad summer vacation for the kids it has been to be stuck inside. We couldn’t even take them to go do stuff either because everything was still shut down at this point. We went to West Palm Beach, FL  and it was nice. The weather was perfect. The resort we stayed at limited their occupancy and everyone social distanced. Masks were required in common areas. The pool was refreshing and that’s where we spent most of our days. I remember when I was younger, I could stay outside all day and would get so dark. Now, all I want to do is just stay in the shade. So the kids got tanned, and I got sunburnt. Lol. At the end of the month, I took another trip with Cisco to Hot Springs, NC. It was still hot, but the views were nice and it was perfect to get away and just be one with nature. We hiked all day for a day and then went to visit Asheville. This is the most steps I’ve taken all year and my body was so sore.

August Finally, the month for school to start finally came around. I loved my kids, but I also was ready for them to finally start school. Hayden got selected to attend the public school’s pre-kindergarten lottery system and I was putting Emma into daycare so that I could also focus on my studies. All summer we were getting notified by the governor that quarantine would be extended. Fear settled in and they also pushed back the first day of school for our kids by 2 weeks. Hayden finally started school mid-August and she loved it. She quickly made friends and Emma adjusted to daycare so easily. This was when I realized that I now have two big girls. This semester, as my first semester back in 5 years, was intense. I had to register for 6 classes to be qualified for full time financial aid. Everyone called me crazy, and I believed it but I was determined to push through no matter what. After all, this was my decision and my future at stake. 

September I celebrated my 28th birthday with close family and friends. We sang the night away and it was just what I needed to blur out the last few months of my life in 2020. This was also the month where I cried the most about my love life. I was single and just accepted the fact that no one wanted to love me. Cisco and I went a few months without talking to each other. A guy I met on a dating app, who I believed liked me the same, stopped talking too. I remember staying up late one night doing homework and then getting a text from Cisco saying ‘just wanted to stop by and say hi’. I broke down. I replayed the song ‘Just About Over You’ over and over again thinking why he couldn’t just leave me alone if I were nothing to him. I wanted to leave him on read. But my heart took over my head and replied back to him.

October My little baby turned 3. I took her and all her cousins to paint pottery and they all had so much fun. Still in denial she’s getting so big. I look over at her right now while the girls are sleeping and she’s gotten so tall and so independent. Classes were getting harder and harder. I was so stressed. I was scared that I was going to fail my Anatomy Lab class. I just couldn’t understand the way she was teaching and then when we were tested, it was totally opposite of what I was learning in lecture. It was a hot mess. Halloween has become one of my favorite holidays. It doesn’t have anything to do with family time. Just dressing up as something else and candy, food, and parties. I finally got a call back from a job I applied to in June. It’s part time but I accepted it. Every month’s budget was cutting it close. 

November This year’s holiday season felt different. It felt eerie and not right because the government was encouraging us to not spend time with our families. And yes, of course I understood the reasons why, but the meaning behind the holidays contradicted everything. We had a small Thanksgiving dinner at my mom’s. There was a lot of drinking and my brothers ended up crying even though it’s usually me whose the crier when drunk. I’m not into political views but I felt a sense of relief when Biden won presidency. Don’t ask me why; I don’t even know why. 

December Hayden turned 5. Because of all the holidays and people traveling, the covid cases were increasing which caused school to close a week early before Winter break. Classes and final exams finally ended for me too. I ended up with a C, 3 Bs, and 2 As. I would say I did pretty well especially with all things considered. Cisco and I took a trip to Gatlinburg and then my family and I ended up going back a couple days before Christmas. We even experienced a white Christmas while we were there. It’s so beautiful to watch snow fall but definitely scary to drive through it when your car is not equipped to travel through it. My company shut down for two weeks during the holidays so again, I’m home with my children. It’s been nice to just unwind and enjoy quality time. I spent New Year’s Eve with Cisco and now it’s officially January 1, 2021. I’m so happy it’s a new year. I’m hoping and genuinely hoping for a better year. Full of love, money, prosper, luck, and good health. 

I hope your 2020 didn’t break you down too much. And if it did, I’m praying 2021 rebuilds you - emotionally and mentally. Here’s to a new year for this whole globe. Healing is sincerely all we need at this point. 

[tosybelle-blog]

The Boys of Summer, Chapters I-V

He said, “Son, I’ve made a life Out of readin’ people’s faces Knowin’ what the cards were By the way they held their eyes Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

Margo

I knew something was up the day my brothers and Vanessa got back from spring break. Let me state for the record that I plan to have a much cooler road trip when I am a senior. Me and Karen are already planning it. It’s going to be awesome.

Though I guess their trip was pretty cool, too. The first thing I noticed was that Jordan came back with a girlfriend. Everything to come out of his mouth since then has been Haley this and Haley that. He was pretty boring before, but he’s really super boring now.

But the real difference has been with Byron. He’s always been really easy to tease because he takes everything way too seriously. He thinks way too much. You also have to watch what you say and do around him because he is a worse tattle-tale than my sister Claire, and she’s in middle school.

Ever since they came back, though, Byron’s been kinda cooler than normal. He jokes back with you when you mess with him, and he’s come out of narc mode—sometimes. He still ratted when he caught Claire with cigarettes, but he didn’t say a word when I came in after curfew.

One day, maybe a week or two after spring break, Karen and I decided we needed to go to the mall. Jordan and Adam were at a baseball game at school. Mom and Dad were at work. No one was free at Karen’s house, so Byron was the only driver left. I went to the room he shares with Nick to butter him up.

Vanessa had taken her camera’s memory card to the drug store the day before and had come home with a thick envelop full of pictures. She, the triplets, and Haley had spent a few hours sorting photos and exclaiming over them. Byron in particular had come away with a huge pile of pictures and said he was going to spend the afternoon framing them.

When I knocked on the door, though, Nick answered. He was alone in the room, reading some weird sci-fi book. Pretty normal Nick.

“Seen Byron?”

He shook his head. “He went down to the basement to find frames in the junk room. He’s been gone a while.” Nick went back to his book and ignored me.

I sat down on Nick’s bed and bounced for a while. I might as well have been alone, for all Nick noticed.

A few minutes later, Byron came back up with a pile of dirty old picture frames. “Oh, hey Margo,” he said cheerfully. “I was thinking of decorating these old frames so they match. You have an artistic eye. Any ideas?”

I looked over the drab old frames, a mishmash of colors, shapes and sizes. “Buy some colorful stickers and cover them so you can’t see the original background,” I suggested.

Byron nodded. “Not bad,” he replied. He picked up the largest frame and pulled out the glass and the mat. Dusting everything off, Byron pulled out an eight by ten photo from the trip.

I was surprised. All the other pictures I had seen from this batch had been four by six. Adjusting the glass and mat back into the frame, he took the photo and taped it into place. When the frame was finished, Byron lifted it up and gazed upon it happily and then he set the hideous, ostentatious puce colored frame down on his bedside table so it was aimed at his pillow.

When he picked up the next frame and began cleaning it, I jumped off Nick’s bed and sat down next to Byron’s pillow. I picked up the frame and inspected it. It was Byron and his friend Jeff, posing in front of the ocean. Byron’s arms were around Jeff, and Jeff was resting his cheek on Byron’s temple.

I looked from the photo to Byron and back. “You and Jeff?” I asked.

He didn’t look up. “Yup.”

I pressed on. “Are you, like, a couple?”

Byron looked at me over his project. “Is he my boyfriend? No. Have we kissed and stuff? Sure.” It was all very casual. Very nonchalant.

“So, you’re gay then?”

“Yup.” Byron looked up at me and then Nick, waiting to see how we responded.

I think we surprised him. I reached over to Nick, hand out, palm up. “Pay up!” I demanded.

Byron’s eyes went wide and his face went crimson. “What in the world is going on here?” he asked.

I grinned. “I made a bet with Nick that you’d come out one day.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “And how long ago was this?”

I shrugged. Nick put his book down and spoke up. “I dunno. Maybe a year? Maybe closer to two.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and plopped it, grudgingly, into my hand.

I couldn’t tell if Byron was irritated or amused. “Twenty bucks? Is that all I’m worth to you two?” Nick and I looked at each other, not sure how to respond. Before we could reply, Byron started to laugh. “I gotta ask, Nick, why you bet I was straight,” he said as he chuckled.

Nick had picked his book back up but hadn’t opened it yet. “You’re not exactly the flamboyant type,” he replied, and then he started reading.

Byron and I looked at each other and he shook his head. Nick is such a space cadet some times. I smiled back at him and he put a framed picture of the triplets next to his giant photo of Jeff. He stopped when he saw that smile, as if it had just occurred to him that I was actually voluntarily sitting on his bed. “Did you come in for something, Margo?” he asked.

“Yeah. Can me and Karen get a ride to the mall?”

Byron sighed and rolled his eyes. “I guess so, as long as Karen can find you a ride home.”

He gathered his car keys and we headed down to the stairs. The Civic was parked out on the curb, but Byron stopped outside the front door. “Margo?”

I nearly ran into him. “What?”

“Do me a favor, okay? I’m still coming out, so not everyone knows yet. Can you keep it to yourself a bit? I don’t mind if you tell, say, a couple friends, but I haven’t told Mom and Dad, or Mal or Claire. And I’d prefer if they found out from me, rather than you or someone else. Got it?”

I grinned at him. “I think that picture by your bed is going to give everyone all the information they need,” I teased.

“Still. Don’t tell anyone in the family, and make sure that if you do tell Karen or whoever, they know not to mention it at the house?”

“No problem. It’ll be our secret or now. I’ll just use the information for blackmail purposes. Rides to the mall whenever I need them.”

Byron smiled back. “What is it with you? First gambling, then blackmail.” He shook his head. “Kids these days.”

We got in the car and drove off toward Karen’s house.

  Fantasy could never be so giving I feel free, I hope that you are willing Pick the beat up, and kick your feet up Dance with me Orleans, Dance with Me

Byron

I can easily tell you my favorite day of the week. It’s Wednesday, because that’s when Jeff calls.

We have a set time. Usually, he calls me—his dad doesn’t watch the phone bill like a hawk the way mine does. Plus, he actually encourages the calls. Apparently, Jeff has been a lot happier since he came back from spring break, and his dad is all for anything that keeps that up. I guess it’s not too surprising that he’s been happier. I have, too.

We were on our fourth call, four weeks since he’d flown back to California and away from me. Jeff was telling me about how his friend Oliver was slacking in the prom department. “He hasn’t even rented a tux yet, and prom is Saturday.”

“Really? That’s early. Ours isn’t for, like, another month.”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, well, I think we graduate a week after your prom.”

I thought about that for a minute. We didn’t graduate for another month after prom. “So, are you going to prom?” I asked.

He sucked in a breath. “No. Why would I? There’s only one person I want to dance with, and you won’t be there.”

“Awww.” Jeff always knows just the right thing to say.

“Well, what about you, By?” he asked. “You going to your prom? It won’t be so bad now that you’re no longer a loud music virgin.”

“Oh, ha ha,” I said in response to the virgin crack. That’s one of Jeff’s favorite jokes—to tell me the kinds of virginity I’ve lost thanks to him. “But really, why would I want to go to prom? I have the same problem you do about it, plus the whole ‘giant introvert’ thing I’ve got going.”

Jeff laughed again. “That’s all for show,” he said. “Anyway, you could hang out with Adam, Jordan and Hay.”

“Like I don’t do that every weekend anyway. For free!”

“Honestly, By…I think you should go. It might be fun to expand your horizons some more.” He was eating a snack while talking, something chewy.

I sighed loud enough for him to hear me. “Okay, okay,” he said, his mouth empty now. “I’m only going to say one more thing on the matter. Think about going to prom. If you decide to go, I’ll fly out and go with you.” There was a pause and I could hear him drinking through a straw. “Did you catch 24 this week?” Jeff asked, and I knew the subject was closed—at least for now.

We hung up about twenty minutes later. I told him to take care, same as always. Jeff always responds with “love ya.” I never know how to reply to that. I know that what I feel for him could be love, but it could also be infatuation. Or even lust. Who knows? Besides, I suspect he says it out of reflex from talking on the phone with his mom.

Either way, whether Jeff meant it or not, I decided I was still a love virgin.

***

Jeff might have serious personal issues that he’s dealing with, but his advice is always worth listening to. He’s almost always right. But this time, I wasn’t so sure. I know I’m gay, and I’m okay with people knowing I’m gay, but did I really want to parade in front of all the kids at school with another guy on my arm? It was like asking someone to beat my ass.

But I’ve always been a bit chicken and so my instinct is always to run away from stuff that’s scary. I needed a second opinion.

The reason Jeff and I talk on Wednesdays is that Nick is out for the evening. He and a few friends play Dungeons and Dragons every Wednesday night. He wouldn’t be back until curfew in a couple hours. I could talk privately on any topic I wanted to anyone I wanted.

I dialed a number from memory. Hay’s mom answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mrs. B, Is Hay home?” I asked.

“Well, hello Byron! No, I’m afraid Haley is out with Jordan tonight. I’m surprised you didn’t know that. You’ve usually got her schedule memorized.”

I smiled at that. “Well, I’ve been a bit busy myself recently. Must have just gotten the days confused.”

Mrs. Braddock chuckled. “Do you want me to leave her a message?”

“No thanks. I’ll talk to her tomorrow after school. You have a good evening, though.”

“You too, Byron. Good night.”

So much for that idea. I put the phone down next to the photo of Jeff and me on my nightstand and walked out of the room. Mom had taken Margo and Claire for haircuts and Dad was working late. Nick was at D&D and who the hell knows where Vanessa goes when she’s not at home. Jordan was out with Hay and Mallory wouldn’t be home from Sarah Lawrence for a few more weeks. I wandered down the hall to my brothers’ room. The door was closed but the light was on. I knocked and Adam answered. “Come in.”

I opened the door and entered. Adam and Jordan still have a set of bunk beds they’ve used since we outgrew cribs some sixteen years ago. I can still remember them making fun of me for being scared to sleep on the top bunk when we were about four. Adam was doing his homework at his desk. I sat down on Jordan’s bed, which was the bottom bunk. “Can I ask you an opinion on something?” I asked.

Adam put down his chemistry book and looked at me. “Always.”

“Do you think I should go to prom?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Of course. You only get one senior prom. Why wouldn’t you want to go?”

I sighed. “I basically have two options. I can either go alone and watch everyone else dancing and be all pathetic on the sidelines. Or I can…”

“Yeeeees?” He dragged the word out, trying to drag the words out of me.

“I can invite Jeff. He said he’d go with me if I wanted.”

“Oh, I see.” Adam turned in his chair so that he was completely facing me. “I’m guessing you’d like to invite Jeff, but you’re worried about what other people will think.” He paused for a moment, waiting or a response. I gave him a tiny nod. “Well, a lot of people already know, Byron. And what’s the worst that has happened? That idiot Dan Reiber now sits as far away from you in the cafeteria as he possibly can, like he’s afraid ‘the gay’ is catching. That’s a big loss, that one.” He laughed a sarcastic chuckle. Adam has been one of my biggest supporters since I started coming out. There’s a reason he’s the first person I ever told. But sometimes I think he sees the world through rose colored glasses.

“I’m not worried about the Dan Reibers of the world,” I commented.

“As you shouldn’t be,” Adam replied, “but then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a dandy way to live your life.” Adam picked up his chemistry book and wrinkled his brow. “Think that over a bit. Meanwhile, you took this class last year, didn’t you? Wanna help me a bit?”

“Loan me a chair and show me what you’re stuck on.” I love when I go to Adam for advice. I always end up helping him with his homework.

***

I guess I was just looking for someone to tell me I was right to be scared, but no one was cooperating. Hay piled more on when I saw her the next morning. “My mom said you called,” she said as she shifted her school bag from one shoulder to the other, standing in the hallway outside her first period class.

“Yup. I also told her she didn’t need to leave you a message.”

“Oh, you know my mom. You tell her no message and then you give her information, and she leaves me a message.” Hay chuckled. “What was on your mind, By?”

I shifted my books from one arm to the other. “Jeff offered to fly out and go to prom with me.”

She cocked her head from one side to the other. “You said yes, of course,” she replied.

I frowned at her. “I said I’d think about it.”

“Oh, By,” Hay shook her head in despair. “You need to think less, do more.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what they taught us in sex ed?”

“Ha ha.” Hay rolled her eyes at my lame joke. “What is there to think about? You care about Jeff. He cares about you, obviously. I know you miss him, because he’s all you talk about most of the time. Invite the man!”

Well. There you were. Three opinions, all unanimous. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m beat. I’ll get the two of us tickets.”

Hay squealed. “Great! We’re going to have so much fun. You’ll save me a dance, right?”

“Sure, Hay. Whatever.” She shoved me and headed into her classroom. The first bell rang and I walked the other way to calculus.

***

There was just one more thing I had to do before I could buy those tickets. I had to have a talk with a couple people.

Dinner was a small affair at the Pike house that night. Just me and Nick and Claire and our parents. I like those nights sometimes, but I was so nervous that I didn’t really talk at all during dinner. Nick never really talks to any of us unless you start the conversation, so he was quiet too. Luckily, Claire didn’t notice, and she talks enough for eight kids anyway. So it wasn’t as if the meal was completely awkward.

Claire and Nick cleared the table while I loaded the dishwasher. My parents had gone to the living room and when I was done, I followed them. “Hey guys,” I said as I sat down next to Dad.

“What do you want, Byron?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking for permission for something…this time. I actually just wanted to give you a heads up instead.”

That got their attention. “A heads up?” Dad repeated.

“Yup.”

“What kind of heads up?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m flying in a prom date from out of town, and I wanted to warn you.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. I couldn’t read Dad’s expression, but Mom looked concerned. “You wanted to warn us you were going to prom?”

I wrinkled my forehead, trying to figure out how to say what I needed to say. “No. I wanted to warn you about who I was taking.”

Dad was starting to look irritated. “What exactly is the problem, here, Byron? You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I’m sure anyone you’ve picked to go to the dance is fine. I’ve never seen you with a girl besides Haley, but I can’t imagine you picking up someone that your mother and I wouldn’t approve of. Are you planning to take a wanted fugitive? A stripper? A hooker?”

I laughed nervously. “No, no. It’s not like that. I’m just…Mom, Dad, I’m taking Jeff.” There. I said it.

They looked at each other again. “Jeff? Are you going as friends?” Dad asked, although the look on his face told me he knew the answer to that question.

I shook my head slowly and the words came out in a tumble. “No, not as friends. I’m taking him as my date. My first real date.” I realized my hands were shaking. For some reason, it was much harder to tell my parents than my brothers. But I had to finish. “I’m gay.”

Mom reached across Dad and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

“Oh, Byron.” She got up and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back, feeling like a little kid again, sitting in her lap. Then I realized she was crying.

“Mom, what’s the matter?” I was afraid of how she would answer that. Luckily, my mom is pretty cool.

She pulled back from the hug and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “I had a feeling someday you’d tell me this,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears, “but I had hoped I was wrong. Don’t worry, I support you either way. It’s just…some people are so backward about gay rights. I had hoped you weren’t gay because I worry about you getting cursed at or beaten because of it.” Mom hugged me again and then let me go.

Dad stood on my other side. “I have a hard time accepting that you and your brothers are legally adults now. You’re a grown man, and gay or straight, I couldn’t have asked for a better son.” He put his hand on the back of my neck. “But if you ever need anything, you know Mom and I are here for you.” I hugged him too.

“Thanks guys, for being so understanding. I’m going to go finish my homework. Good night.”

“Night.”

I went up to my room. Nick was at his desk, working on an essay about Julius Caesar. I pulled an envelope out from under my mattress and counted out enough money for prom tickets. I put it in my wallet and vowed to buy the tickets first thing the next morning. Before I lost my nerve again.

***

Haley

My parents have some rules they’re pretty strict about. My homework has to be done before I leave if I want to go out at night. I’m not allowed to be out on weeknights after ten o’clock. And I’m never, ever, to drive my car with just me and Jordan inside.

My mom has always been really cool about me hanging out with By. He could probably spend the night in my bed and she wouldn’t care. But she also knows he’s gay. It also helps that he is such an Eddie Haskell when my parents are around. He’s a little too polite almost. He makes me—and anyone else I bring by—look bad.

For some reason, I thought it would be the same way when I brought Jordan over. I mean, other than their hair and clothes, By and Jordan are identical in appearance. And they really aren’t that different in personality either. They just find different ways to cover their sensitivities. By burrows into his shell; Jordan lashes out. Neither one of these matters with my parents around, because it’s not like Mom and Daddy are picking at them.

But things are definitely different when I bring Jordan by. Mom knows he’s straight—me introducing him as my boyfriend must been a big hint—so he’s not even allowed in my bedroom. And like I said, I’m not allowed to drive anywhere with him in the car unless we have a third person with us. I think Daddy has been taking some lessons from the Pikes, who basically have the same rules at their house.

But Jordan and I found a way around this. I drive to this wooded street that’s all quiet, a few blocks from his house. He walks over and joins me. We then have privacy for a while, without breaking a single rule, because we don’t drive anywhere. And we take full advantage of it.

I can’t compare making out with Jordan to anything, because I’ve never really made out with a guy before. Except Dominic, and he doesn’t count. At all. But I think I’ve been missing something all these years. Maybe hanging out exclusively with a gay guy wasn’t the best move on my part. I feel repressed.

We were in the backseat of the car Friday night, stretched across the seat. I was lying on my back and Jordan was pretty much sitting in my lap, which is pretty funny if you think about it. He leaned back over me and kissed my neck. It’s one of his favorite spots, but I always live in fear of him giving me a hickey. It’s too warm for a turtleneck.

We rolled over on our sides a moment later and he just wrapped his arms around me tightly. I get this tingling feeling every time he does that, especially when we’ve been in the backseat for a while. I can always feel him pressed against me, especially the lump in his shorts. There are parts of me that want to just rip his pants off at times like this and do whatever comes to mind afterward. But there are other parts that live in fear of that actually happening.

We’ve only been together a month, but I know a lot of girls who move a lot faster than that. I have this need for balance in my life right now, and having a boyfriend throws such a monkey wrench into that. I don’t want to move so slowly that I’m a tease or a prude, but I also don’t want to move so fast that I’m a slut or regret things after they happen. I’ve told Jordan I want to take things slow, and he understands.

I compromised this time by pressing my leg between his as we resumed kissing. There are some nights we hardly talk because we’re too “busy.” Tonight was not going to be one of those nights. We’d shifted again because my arm was going numb when he stopped and pulled a short distance back from our embrace. “Will you go to prom with me?” he asked.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

Jordan’s face grew serious. “What?” he asked, referring to the laughter.

I reached out and touched his forehead. His hair had started growing in, and it was at that “sticking-out-in-directions” stage. I smoothed my hand across his furrowed brow. “Well, first I’m laughing because you thought you actually had to ask me if I’d go to prom instead of assuming I’d go with you.” He lightened up a bit and gave me a half smile. “Second, you asked in mid-make out. You have to admit, that’s pretty silly.”

He pressed on. “So you’ll go with me?”

“Of course, goofy. Am I your girlfriend, or what?”

He smiled fully. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

I grinned at him. “You sound relieved. Did you really think I’d say no?”

He looked away, which is hard to do when we’re that close together. “Not really. I didn’t think you’d want to go with someone else or something like that. I was more worried you wouldn’t want to go at all.”

I kissed his nose. “No, it’s going to be great. By’s bringing Jeff, you know, and I’m sure Adam will be there. I’m going to try to talk Vanessa into coming, too.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you love me or my family.”

“Who says I love you at all?”

Jordan pulled back a little farther and turned his head slightly to one side. I wiggled a little closer to him, careful not to tip the two of us off the seat entirely. It’s happened before. “So, what is prom like?” I asked. I’m a junior and I’ve never had a chance to go. Jordan went last year with some cheerleader named Amanda.

He thought about that for a second. “You eat, you dance, you get your picture taken. You spend some time with your friends and some with your date.” He shrugged. “I think it will be different this year.”

I snuggled my head next to his neck. I could hear every breath he took that way. Very soothing. “How so?”

“Well, I’m a senior. This is the last dance with everyone. I’ve known some of these people since kindergarten.” Jordan kissed the top of my head. “And then there’s you. I wanted to ask you go with me last year, but I thought you were dating Byron.”

That was something new. “You thought I was with By?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know he was gay back then.”

“Okay, then. I could see how you’d make that mistake.” I put one hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and pushed hard with the butt of my hand. He groaned as if I were doing something dirty instead of massaging him. When I was done, we lay there for a few minutes, quiet. He ran one hand up and down my side, from the band of my jeans up to the side of my breast. “So what about after prom? What do people do then?”

Jordan didn’t stop moving his hand. “There are a couple options I’ve heard of. The school hosts a post-prom, where you pay five bucks and then do whatever in the basement at the university for a couple hours. I think there’s bowling and video games and cards and prizes and stuff. The point is to prevent us from going out and drinking.” He shifted slightly, and the hand was on my breast. He kept talking. “Of course, there’s always Dan Reiber’s party, which is exactly the type of debauchery that the school wants us to avoid.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I am not a fan of Dan Reiber,” I said, thinking of the way he’d written ‘Byron Pike is a fag,’ in one of the boys’ bathrooms at school.

Jordan’s hand found a nipple and he twirled two fingers around it, slowly. “I’m not exactly good friends with him either these days. But there will probably be a hundred people at this party. Mr. Reiber is rich and likes to throw money around. I think he knows it’s the only way Dan can make friends. So he gets him a huge suite with a hot tub and buys a shit ton of alcohol. It’s fun for a couple of hours, then everyone’s wasted and there are literally people doing it on, like, every surface. Kinda tacky.”

“Isn’t prom night when you’re supposed to lose your virginity?” I don’t know what made me say it. I had no intention of deflowering Jordan (isn’t that a funny word?) at prom, or any other time soon. I think it just naturally followed what he was talking about. But Jordan retracted his hand as if my boob had just turned into a hot coal. He pulled his arm out from underneath me and sat up suddenly on the edge of the car seat. His butt was right by my side.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up beside him and rumpling my messy hair, attempting to make it look less like sex hair (as Vanessa would say.) “That was totally a joke.”

He moved closer, still looking down. Without a word, he reached over and moved his hand up the back of my shirt, pushing the shirt up. I turned my back to him and he fastened my bra back up. “I know. I just…”

“Yes?”

Jordan changed directions. “Have you ever heard of the Faith League?” he asked.

I nodded. It sounded vaguely familiar, like I’d seen kids at school wearing the shirts. “It’s a Christian group at school, right?”

“Yeah. They meet every Tuesday all year long. Until baseball season, I was going every week. It’s not just Bible and Jesus; we actually talk about a lot of things that affect our lives as teens.”

I put one hand on his knee while he talked. “Sounds like a good group of friends to have,” I commented. Actually, it sounded dead boring. My parents never really raised my brother and me in any kind of religion, and I’m not sure I even believe any of it. Some of the stories in the Bible are pretty silly, after all. I know the Pikes go to church every Sunday and encourage their kids to come with. By usually goes about once a month to keep his parents off his back, but he never seemed too interested in it. He seems to be a Christmas-and-Easter type of Christian.

But I guess Jordan is different. Since we’ve been together, I think he’s gone to church every Sunday with his parents. I know he played the piano at one of those services. He’s never been pushy about religion and he doesn’t talk about it much, so I wasn’t really worried about it. Until now.

“Yeah, there’s some really neat people in Faith League. You’d like some of them.” He looked out the car window as a set of headlights flashed by. I thought he was done, but just when I was about to change the subject, he started talking again. “Back in October or so there was a lot of talk about sex and the amount of thought that needs to go into the decision to have sex. Some of us got to talking, and we decided to take a pledge.”

“A pledge?” Several images ran through my head and none of them were particularly pleasant. I was actually imagining Jordan joining a cult. Sometimes my imagination runs away from me. “What kind of pledge?”

He looked away from me again, but began running one fingernail up and down the outer seam of my jeans, making a strange sound. “A purity pledge. We vowed to remain virgins until marriage.”

Wow. “Really?” I asked. I never think about marriage, particularly. I’m seventeen—I don’t plan on getting married for another ten or fifteen years, if ever.

Jordan looked embarrassed. “I’m not saying I’ll actually make it all the way to marriage,” he said, blushing a little, “but basically, I wanted to take sex off the table for now. There’s really too much else going on for me to even be thinking about it. Baseball. College. You.” He was still running his nail on my jeans. I caught his hand to stop him, because it was making my thigh really warm. He finally looked me in the eye. “Of course, you do complicate things. Before you, I’ve never actually wanted to…”

He didn’t have to finish the thought; I felt the same way about him. “I know what you mean,” I said.

“And I don’t know how fair it is to you to continue to honor that pledge. You didn’t make one, after all.”

I still had his hand and I squeezed. “It’s okay, Jordan. I’m not ready, either. I really was just kidding about prom night, anyway.” He didn’t look soothed. “Tell you what. I’ll make my own version of the pledge. I vow that I will not make jokes about things that are serious to you, and I vow to take anything sexual slowly, and not pressure for anything we don’t both agree on. Sound fair to you?”

He smiled. “You are the best, Haley.”

I grinned back at him. “I know.” I wasn’t quite ready to tell Jordan that I wasn’t making that pledge for him, but for me. When you have my lousy history with guys, it’s sometimes hard to even trust a guy to touch you at all, as much as you might want him to. But I wasn’t quite ready to tell Jordan he had a rape victim for a girlfriend, so it was easier to let him think it as all his idea. “I have fifteen minutes before I have to head home for curfew. Got any ideas on how we can spend it?”

Jordan leaned over and kissed me. “I have a few…”

***

Jeff

Brrrrring.

“Hello, Schafer-Olson residence.”

“Jeff?”

“By! What’s up? It’s not Wednesday already, is it? Heh heh.”

“No, but I was so excited, I couldn’t wait. I’m glad you were home. I bought us tickets to the prom today.”

“Really! Last time we talked, you were still waffling over it.”

“Well, I decided, fuck anyone who doesn’t like it. I’m as entitled to go to the prom with the person I’m dating as they are.”

“Good for you. What did they say when you put our names down?”

“No one said a word. But I also don’t think they even looked at the names I wrote down, either.”

“Well, that’s one hurdle down.”

“Two actually. I told my parents the other night.”

“Told ‘em you were gay, or told ‘em about us?”

“Both. My mom is doing that overprotective mom thing, where she’s all worried about me. But they were pretty cool.”

“That’s great. Listen, By, you’ve inspired me. I need to go talk to someone, but I’ll call you Wednesday, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Take care, Jeff.”

“Love ya.”

Click.

Knock, knock.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to pick Gracie up from soccer. What’s on your mind, son?”

“I’ve got something I have to tell you.”

“This sounds serious. Do you want to sit down?”

“No, it’s not like that. Well, it’s important but I don’t think you’d call it serious, really…”

“Jeff, you’re babbling. Why don’t you just tell me what you came in here to say?”

“I got invited to prom back in Stoneybrook. Mom said she would pay for the tickets if I wanted to go out for the weekend.”

“Is that all? Of course you can go to Stoneybrook for the prom. Which one of the girls are you going with? It was Vanessa and Bailey on that trip, wasn’t it?”

“Actually, it was Vanessa and Haley. But I’m not going with either of them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haley’s dating Jordan and I think Vanessa’s got some weirdo boyfriend I’ve never met.”

“So then, you’re going with…”

“Byron.”

“Byron? He’s one of the triplets, right?”

“Yup.”

“Jeff, are you trying to tell me you’re gay?”

“No. Well, maybe.”

“You’re not making much sense, son.”

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t know. Maybe I’m gay. Maybe I’m bisexual. I just haven’t figured that out yet. But what I do know is that I really like Byron.”

“You like him? You guys are friends, right? You’re supposed to like your friends.”

“Dad. I’ve kissed him a few times. Okay, maybe more than a few. Byron is definitely gay, but I liked him even before I knew that. All I can tell you for sure is that By and I really care about each other and we’re more than friends.”

“I guess that’s what really matters then, isn’t it? Listen, I have to go pick Gracie up. When you decide what you ‘are’, you’ll be sure to let me know, right?”

“Sure, Dad.”

I’d never heard my dad sound so sarcastic before. After he left, I put my head down on the arm of the couch and cried.

 Oh how strong can you be With matters of the heart? Life is much too short To while away with tears Queen, Jealousy

Jordan

On the sunny Tuesday after the prom, I met Haley at the corner. For some reason, she wanted to walk downtown. Usually, we drive or bike, but she was insistent. I find it’s easier just to do what she asks, if it’s not too outrageous. I want to keep her around.

I’ve been in love with Haley for a long time. She’s just perfect—so sweet and spunky and full of energy. She also tells it like it is, but in a nice way. If I’m ever worried that something I want to do or say will make me seem like a dickhole, I ask her about it first. She’s always nice about it and doesn’t hold it against me, even when I’m way off base. Plus, she’s cute and an amazing kisser. I can’t believe how lucky I am.

We walked for about a block, holding hands and not talking. I watched her as we went. She looked at everything, almost in an ADD kind of way. Someone would walk by and she’d flick her eyes that way; a bird would tweet and the eyes went the other way. When Haley does it, though, it doesn’t look scatterbrained. She just appears bright and aware.

I found out before too long why we were walking. There are a couple of vending machines for newspapers up the block from our houses, on the way to town. Haley stopped in front of the machine and pumped a couple coins into it and pulled out a paper, which she folded in half. I grimaced as she stored the paper in her armpit. She saw my face and explained, “My mom saw By’s picture and she wanted another copy.”

The grimace turned to a scowl. “What for?”

Haley caught both the expression and the tone and she raised an eyebrow. “Maybe she wants to frame it and put in on her wall with one of those crazy religious candles,” she suggested sarcastically. “You know. St. Byron.”

I snorted. Haley put her arm—not the one she was using to hold up the newspaper— around my hip and pulled me close. I can’t resist when she wants to touch me. I put an arm around her tiny waist and she leaned into me. We started walking again, and I thought she had let the subject drop. I was wrong.

“What exactly is your issue with By now?” she asked.

I sighed. “I don’t have an issue with him.”

Haley laughed. “You could have fooled me.” She squeezed my side as we continued walking. Haley is about the only person I know who can be unhappy with you and still want to keep feeling you up.

I repeated my last statement as we kept walking. “I do not have a problem with him. What I have a problem with is the way everyone else treats him.”

“Oh?”

I couldn’t tell exactly what that “oh” meant. Oh is one of those words that can have so many meanings and emotions behind it. This one didn’t sound too upset, but it did sound edgy. I figured I could probably explain myself without the oh going too far over the edge. “He does something that the rest of the world does and it’s such a big deal that even the news media covers it.”

Haley put her head on her shoulder and looked up, which is pretty much the only way she can see my face when we’re walking like that. “Is it just me, or do you sound jealous?”

I snorted. “What the hell do I have to be jealous of?”

Haley smiled. “You are so jealous!” she teased. She pulled away from me for a moment and opened up the paper to the picture her mom was apparently going to frame. “You wish that were us in the newspaper.”

I took another look at the newspaper article, although I’d seen it about 1000 times already that day. It was headlined “Gay teens make splash at SHS prom” and was topped by a picture of Byron and Jeff dancing. Somehow, the local paper had found out that there was going to be a guy/guy couple at the prom and they’d decided it was news. That’s what I have a problem with. I mean, fuck, the guy just wanted to go on a date with someone. In that, he’s just like every other teenaged boy. Why’d they have to go and make such a big deal out of it? Byron eats (like a pig) and goes to the bathroom, too. Do they want to write stories about those things?

Haley touched my arm. “I know you say you’re not jealous, and for the most part, I believe you. But there may come a moment when you do get tired of all this special attention being thrown at your brother.” Haley knows what she’s talking about. Her little brother is deaf, and she spends a lot of time translating for him. I know there are days she resents the hell out of him.

“What I don’t get,” I began as I took her hand again. Haley folded up the newspaper again and stuck it back under her arm. She was wearing a light blue shirt that brought out the brown of her eyes and a pair of capri jeans. She turned her face to me and watched me intently as I spoke. “What I don’t get,” I repeated, having lost my train of thought looking into her eyes, “is why the paper was even interested in the story. The school didn’t even blink at Byron and Jeff. It wasn’t an issue. And it shouldn’t be. There’s so much bigger shit in life than who someone wants to date.”

Haley looked thoughtful. “I’ve asked myself the same question. Partly because of what you said. Partly because of By. He’s not exactly a publicity hound, right?” That’s kind of an understatement. Byron is one of those people who goes out of his way to avoid talking to strangers. There’s nothing wrong with him; he just prefers a small circle of friends and his privacy. “Did you actually read the article? They talked to Jeff. They talked to Adam. They talked to the principal. They have one line from Byron, and that’s just something Adam told them he said.”

“Isn’t that cheating when you’re writing a newspaper?” I joked.

Haley smiled, but then she looked serious. “I love the fact that you are supporting By, and I know what he appreciates it, too. I think that in some ways, the shit is going to hit the fan after this. He’s going to need as many people standing in his corner as he can get.”

“Well, he’s got me. Even if I am a little bit jealous.”

Haley lit up. “Ha! I knew it! Don’t ever try to lie to me, Jordan,” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ve got a sixth sense for that sort of thing.”

I pulled her closer and gave her a real kiss. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 There's too many people you used to know They see you coming they see you go They know your secrets and you know theirs This town is crazy; nobody cares

Beck, Lost Cause

Tiffany

My sister came home from college the day before my last final exam for the year. When you go to community college, like I do, there’s no big homecoming and you finishing the year is no big deal. But Shannon goes to NYU and we only really see her for summers. I’m surprised to find I actually miss her when she’s gone, but it’s annoying how my mom and Maria fawn over her when she comes back. Yet I know when I finish exams tomorrow, my mom’s gonna be like, Good job honey. Go take out the trash like I asked you.

I was panicking about my algebra final because I just don’t really get numbers. I had been going to all the tutoring sessions they offer for free at the school but I still had a really low C in the class. If I was going to pass, I needed to do decent. And me and tests do not get along. It’s like all the information just flies out of my head when I sit down with a test in front of me. Add to that the fact that I had been ridiculously tired recently and you’ve got a bad combination.

The morning of my exam—the morning after Shannon came home—I was studying as hard as I knew how, going over notes and checking formulas. Shannon came to stand in my doorway. She watched me for a while, a newspaper in her hand, before I noticed her. “Hey Tiffany! Haven’t seen you since I got home. How’s it going?”

I shrugged. “Exams,” I said listlessly. I was wishing she would just leave me alone, partly because I needed to study and partly because she was trying to bond with me in an annoying big sister way.

“Oh.” Shannon looked pained, like she was trying hard and not succeeding. I watched her for a while, waiting to see if she was finished. I don’t understand why, but she didn’t start talking again until I went back to my textbook. “Did you see the paper today?” she asked, holding out the newspaper she’d been holding.

I put my pencil down and gave her a long, blank stare. Shannon recoiled a little bit, but acted like I wasn’t acting like a crazy bitch. “No,” I finally replied, “I have not had time to read the paper today.” Like I read the paper even on days when I’m not busy.

Shannon sat on the side of my desk and opened the paper, pretending I was being a pleasant human being. She flipped a while and then looked over a page. “Didn’t you date one of the Pike boys?” she asked, almost idly.

I looked out the window. Why was she asking this? “Yeah.”

My sister waited for elaboration that I had no intention of giving. “Which one?” she asked. She was starting to get pissed; I could tell by her tone and how rigid her back was.

“Adam.”

Shannon smiled even though I was still on her nerves. “That’s right. This family has a history of Adams.”

I rolled my eyes internally. Shannon dated a guy named Adam for a while about a million years ago, and now she has another Adam. They’ve been together for about two years, and they are totally nauseating together. He is one of those rich guys like the ones I went to high school with, the ones who are so smarmy and fake you really don’t know anything about them after four years of high school with them. There’s a reason I mostly dated public school boys.

Adam Pike and I dated when I was a sophomore and he was a freshman. I’d actually really liked him, but I was pretty stupid back then. I had told my friends he was a junior, and even though he was short, he had a way of handling himself that made him seem older. What’s the word? Poise? He was funny too, and my friends all liked him…until they realized he was younger and his family had no money. I gave in to my friends and dumped him. He’d been pretty hurt. It’s one of the things in my life I regret most.

It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be able to finish my much-needed studying until I got her to leave. “Why did you bring the Pikes up?” Shannon used to sorta be friends with Adam’s older sister, who is my age, but I don’t think they’d seen each other since Shannon started high school.

“Oh,” she said, as if she’d forgotten we were even talking about it, “there’s an article in the paper today about one of the Pike triplets and I wasn’t sure which one was which.” There was a time, back in the day, when the Pike boys all pretty much looked the same. They had the same hair and the same style of clothes, so it was pretty easy to confuse them. By the time I was dating Adam, he and his brothers all had different hair styles and different ways of dressing. I hadn’t seen the Pikes in several years, but I bet I still could have known which triplet I was looking at after just a glance.

“Let me see,” I said, gesturing for the article. Shannon folded the page over and handed it to me. A quick look at the photo showed two guys. One was tall and blonde and I didn’t recognize him. The other boy was clearly a Pike. He was dancing with the first boy and appeared ill at ease with having his photo taken. He wore his hair far too long and it hung into his eyes. He was slouchy and hunched over a little bit. All in all, he looked like someone who was unhappy in his own skin. “That’s Byron,” I said, checking the caption to prove I was right.

“Yes,” Shannon said. She was more relaxed now that I was cooperating with her. “Did you read the story?”

I looked up at her. “You know I don’t read that fast.”

“Okay, then, did you read the headline?”

I sighed and skimmed the headline. Gay Teens Make Splash at SHS Prom. “Yeah, so?”

“I was just wondering if he was the one you dated.” I could read what she really meant: she wanted it to be Adam so she could lord it over my head that I dated a gay guy. “They quoted Adam in the story, too. You should read it.”

I scoffed inside. “I’ll read it after my exam.”

Shannon popped off the desk. “Dad called. He wants to take us out to dinner tonight.”

Well. That was surprising. My mom kicked Dad out a couple years ago when she found out he was cheating on her. They never divorced, though. He has an apartment in the city and even though Shannon lives in the same town he does, she only sees him once a month or so. And I think Maria and me have seen him three times since he moved out. I wrinkled my nose. “Can’t. I have to study.”

Shannon eyed me critically. “It’s dinner, Tiff. Isn’t your exam this afternoon?”

“Then I just don’t want to go.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Then you get to explain that to him. I’m not doing your dirty work for you.” She looked over at my notes. “Algebra? I do pretty well at math. Do you want me to help you study?”

I shook my head. Even though I could have really used the help, I didn’t want to give Shannon one more thing to lord over my head.

“Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.”

And then she was gone.

***

Adam

The phone rang about eight thirty Tuesday night. When both Margo and Claire are home, they fight over who gets to answer the phone. Makes it pointless for any of the rest of us to even reach for it. Plus, I wasn’t expecting any phone calls and I was about a week behind in chemistry. So I was pretty surprised when Claire called, “Aaaaaaa-dammmmmmm! It’s for yoooooooooooou!”

Jordan and I were both sitting at our desks. He was writing his literary analysis paper for English and it was due the next morning. The look on his face said, “This is worth twenty percent of my grade; talk on the phone in here and die.”

I greeted Claire outside the bedroom door. “Who is it?”

She grinned one of those annoying baby sister grins, the one where she knows she’s about to piss you off and she’s taking pleasure in it. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. But….” She held the phone over her head, trying to keep it out of my reach. That does not work when she’s just under five feet tall and I’m nearly five seven. “It’s a guuuuuuuuuuu-ruuuuuuul!”

I snatched the phone away from Claire. “Are you twelve or are you five?” I asked. She just giggled and ran off. “Hello,” I said into the phone. “I apologize for my insane sister. Someone dropped her on her head as a baby.”

“And it was probably you, so you should just admit it.”

I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. “Uh, hi?” I said unhelpfully.

She realized what was going on. “It’s Tiffany Kilbourne. I saw you were quoted in the newspaper and wanted to see how you were doing.”

Ahh, Tiffany. She was my first real girlfriend. I dated a lot of girls in middle school—the kind of relationship where you tell everyone you’re dating but you maybe go to the movies once. You hang out with each other at lunch for a couple weeks and then you’re done.

But my relationship with Tiffany was different. We went out for about five months and I really liked her. She was one of those private school rich kids but she didn’t act like that. Her clothes were always nice but she never wore crazy labels or trendy clothes. She didn’t look down her nose at me and my friends, and she was nice to my brothers and sisters. I never did quite understand why we broke up. One day she was all into me; the next she said that she thought we should see other people and that was it.

“Tiffany! It’s been a long time. How is it going?” And it had been a long time. I hadn’t seen her since we broke up, and that was more than three years ago. The cynical part of me wondered exactly why she was calling.

I didn’t wonder long. She drew in a long breath. “I actually called because I wanted to apologize.”

Really? “Uh, Tiffany…that’s okay. It was a lifetime ago.”

“No, no. I have to get this out.” She sounded a little frantic. I’d never heard her like this before; usually, she was laid-back to the point where you’d occasionally wonder if she was even conscious. “There are a lot of things in my life that I really regret, but treating you that way is the worst of them.”

Okay. Now she had me scratching my head. “Okay,” I replied, just to say something.

“I wanted you to know, I really did like you. I was such an idiot back then. I never should have listened to my friends.” I could picture her the way she was three years before, wearing a pair of artfully ripped jeans and a top that was tight enough that you could see her figure but not so tight that she looked like she was trying too hard. She used to wear her hair long and loose, with thick blonde bangs hanging in her eyes and just a little too much eye makeup. I could see her with her knees pulled up to her chest, sitting on her bed, her bare feet sticking out in front of her, her toenails painted a sickening green. Wow.

Tiffany continued. “I was just such a joiner back then. Peer pressure and all that, you know?” She chuckled but it didn’t sound like she had back in the day. Even though she was crazed, her voice also had a lethargic quality, like she was half asleep. “I really, really liked you and I shouldn’t have listened to my friends when they said they didn’t think we should see each other…”

She’d lost me a while back, and she was starting to completely ramble. “It’s okay, Tiff,” I repeated. “Seriously. I’m not mad any more. You are completely and totally forgiven.”

I guess this was not the right thing to say. “Any more?!” she cried. “You’re not mad any more? So you were mad when it first happened.” She made a noise that I couldn’t really identify, something between a cry and a hiccup.

Oh, no. “No, not mad,” I said. Damage control time! “I was a little confused and that’s about it. You didn’t do anything that most other fifteen year olds wouldn’t have done. No worries.”

Tiffany sniffled and I realized that she had been crying. “You’re really sure?”

“Yes, I’m completely certain.” I sat down in the hallway, outside my bedroom door. “Listen, Tiff, is everything okay?”

She sobbed for a second and I sat there, wide eyed, wondering what to do next. Before I decided, she had pulled herself together. “No,” she said sadly. “Everything is pretty fucked up. But it’s nothing new, ya know?” She paused a moment and then continued. “I’m just so glad that you aren’t upset. It’s one more worry off my list.”

I had been on the phone with her for a very short time and I was already concerned about her. “Did you want to get together some time?” I asked, “For old time’s sake, of course.”

She laughed an uneasy laugh. “Sure. I could really use a sounding board, and it’d be great to see you again.” Tiffany took a deep breath and before I could make some vague reply about calling her sometime soon, she plunged ahead. “Are you free Thursday night? We could go for coffee.”

Oh, shit. It’s not that I hadn’t really meant it about getting together with her, but if she was as big a mess as she seemed, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to go hang out with her. But I just knew that if I told her I was busy that night, she’d either retort with another night or go back to thinking that our break up had made a basket case out of me. Plus, coffee? That could be a twenty minute get together or several hours, depending on how things went. I could always escape as soon as my cup was empty. “Sure. That sounds great. About seven okay with you?”

“That’s perfect. I’m glad we talked, Adam. See you on Thursday.”

“Bye, Tiff. Have a good night.”

I put the phone back on its charger in the hallway and went back to my chemistry book. Jordan looked out from behind a wall of books and notes. He was obviously ready for a break. “So who was it?”

“You’ll never guess.”

Jordan pretended to look pensive. “Madonna?” he suggested. I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at him. He’s been a lot more fun to be around since he started dating Haley.

“No, Shithead. Tiffany Kilbourne.”

“Tiffany?” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you drag her out from?”

I laughed. “I didn’t drag her from anywhere. She saw that story about Byron in the paper and called.”

For a moment his face clouded over, and then he shook himself. “So how’s she doing these days?”

I shrugged, making a face. “I think she’s having some problems right now.” I picked up my chemistry book and looked at the assignment for a moment. “I’m going for coffee with her in a couple days.”

Jordan wrinkled his nose. “What for? Thinking of picking her back up?” I didn’t reply to that, just adjusted my half-finished assignment so that I could maybe get it completely finished sometime soon. “If she’s as fucked up as you say, that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

I shrugged again. “I guess we’ll see after Thursday.”

***

Tiffany

I hung up the phone after talking with Adam and stretched out across the bed. Shannon and Maria were still out with Dad, but I knew they’d be back soon. I had decided I didn’t want to deal with Dad so I had stayed on campus until I knew he would have come and gone. Mom always leaves when she knows he’ll be coming by, so I’d been alone all evening.

I’d completely and totally bombed my final and I knew it. I figured there was a good shot I’d be taking algebra again next year. Not anything I could do about it now, but it was pretty depressing. I’d come home and eaten a whole carton of Ben and Jerry’s for dinner. I was pretty nauseous now, but I wasn’t sure if that was the ice cream or the test. Maybe a little of both.

I’d picked up the newspaper when I’d finally come back upstairs and read the article. It didn’t really tell me anything about Adam, other than he loves his brother. That’s something I’d already known. I’d ended up feeling really guilty, though. Adam’s grown up even better than I’d imagined he would have.

Speaking with Adam had made me feel better. He has seemed almost a little alarmed that I had even called, but he was cool about it. He’d even asked if I was okay and agreed to have coffee with me in a few days. I was hoping we could be friends; I could really use a friend right about now.

Just about all of my high school friends went away away to college. Pretty much no one stayed in Connecticut. One girl did go to Stoneybrook University, but she joined a sorority and made a bunch of new friends, so we lost touch. I’d met a whole bunch of new people at the community college, but I didn’t really get close to any of them. Most of them worked and went to school and already had friends. I guess I could have gotten involved with some activities, but that’s not really my style.

I did hook up with one person this year. Eric was in my English class first semester, and he had a whole crew of friends. I had thought that his friends were my friends, but when we broke up, I learned the truth. We’d dated for pretty much the whole school year and we’d only broken up a couple weeks ago. I’d caught him cheating on me with his best friend’s girlfriend. That was a hot mess, let me tell you. I was still recovering from that and I didn’t really even have anyone to talk to about it.

The wave of nausea I’d been experiencing for the past hour passed and I jumped off my bed and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and there were bags under my eyes. My whole face looked a little gray. It was not attractive at all. My hair was messy, and I realized I hadn’t combed it that day. My bangs hung greasy against my forehead. I had a big old zit on the side of my nose. I was wearing a grubby, old tank top without a bra, but my chest is small enough that I can get away with that. The tank top was paired with a faded pair of sweat pants. I would say I wasn’t looking my best, but I didn’t really look any worse than I had for the past week or so. I would have blamed exams, but I think the breakup had had a lot more to do with it than the tests had.

If I was going to have coffee with Adam, I was going to have to do a serious clean up. He remembered me from my glory days. As sad as it was to admit, I’d reached the peak of my life when I was fifteen. I’d had a whole crew of friends, my grades were decent, and I’d had a great boyfriend. And I’d been sane, which is something I didn’t feel I could say anymore. I wanted him to see me as close to that person as I could possibly get. I might not be able to regain my sanity, but I could regain my looks.

I needed to get started right away.

 And these children who spit on you As they try to change their worlds Are immune to your consultations They’re quite aware of what they’re going through David Bowie, Changes

Mallory

I woke up my first morning after my freshman year of college to the sound of Byron’s girlfriend singing.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Haley, I really do. I’ve known her for years and she’s grown from a bright, sociable kid to a lovely young woman. But I had had classes at nine am every week day for the past semester and all through May term. All I wanted on my first day home was to sleep in.

I’ve been living away from home for quite a while now—more than seven years. There are all those clichés about coming home, you know: home is where the heart is, there’s no place like home. Etc., etc. But really, when you’re an adult used to a certain set of circumstances, coming home is quite frankly awful.

Going to boarding school was absolutely amazing. I was free to be who I was without any preconceived notions, and I was also free to change who I was without anyone judging me. But college has been even more liberating, simply because we’re all adults and for the most part, the only rules we have to follow are the laws of the land and the rules of society. I have no curfew and I can do whatever I want within my dorm room as long as it doesn’t get me arrested or kicked out of school.

Home is in no way like that. I don’t think my parents realize that I had my eighteenth birthday over a year ago. While I have no intention of smoking pot or drinking in my bedroom— I don’t do drugs and I’m not really into the drinking scene, though I’ve been known to have a beer or two—it would be nice for my parents to respect my privacy and adulthood. I just don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon.

And I guess if I think about it, living with the Pikes is similar in some ways to living in a college dorm. There are a lot of people around, some of whom are very loud and/or very annoying. There’s no such thing as quiet time at the Pikes unless it’s between 1 am and 6 am, and even that’s not a guarantee.

So when Haley started singing, I just gave up on sleep. I half-way got dressed—basically, I put some undergarments on under my pajamas and made sure I was dressed at least as well as the people in my 9 am classes—and headed down to the kitchen.

I stopped in the doorway and looked at everyone. It was morning on a Saturday, so some family members were still sleeping and others were already gone for the day. Claire was frying some eggs in a frying pan. She’d pulled her hair up into a pony tail on the top of her head and had obviously slept in it that way from the way it was falling down. Adam was sitting on the counter, eating a sandwich of some variety. He was dressed for the day and looked like he was about to jump off the counter and head off to some activity or another.

Nick was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. He too was dressed, but I doubted he was going anywhere. He hadn’t said two words to me since I came home, but I’ve already heard from Claire that she thinks he’s going to be the Pike family member to always live with Mom and Dad—the creepy relative who lives in the basement.

The only other people in the kitchen were Jordan and Haley. She was obviously dressed, as she’d come from down the block. Her hair, which she’d always worn short, was longer than I remembered and she’d pulled most of it into a ponytail, with the loose pieces on the side tucked behind her ears. She was standing so that she was mostly turned away from me, tucking dishes into the dishwasher, and she was still singing. I didn’t recognize the song, but obviously Claire did, as she was humming along here and there.

Jordan was sitting on another part of the counter. He wasn’t eating—he was watching Haley. And I don’t just mean watching; I mean out and out staring. It was almost creepy, but at the same time, I didn’t really blame him. She was really belting it out and the song was beautiful.

“Will they miss me when I’m gone?” Haley finished up the song and closed the dishwasher. Jordan jumped off the counter and went to her. She flashed him a smile and he kissed the top of her head.

And that’s when I got horribly confused.

Claire, who had been eating her eggs straight from the pan with her fingers, turned around to say something to Jordan and spotted me in the doorway. “Mally!” she shouted.

I smiled faintly at her. “Morning, everyone,” I called casually to the room as a whole. One skill I’ve acquired in all my years at school is not showing surprise outwardly. I turned to Haley specifically. “That was beautiful. I didn’t know you had such a nice voice. I could hear you from my bedroom.”

She instantly looked guilty. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked remorsefully.

I shook my head. “No, I was already awake,” I lied.

I might be good at faking casual, but apparently I am a terrible liar. “That’s a yes,” Jordan said with a smirk. He grabbed Haley’s hand and pulled her toward him and away from the conversation. “We’re going for a bike ride if Mom and Dad ask,” he said generically. “Adam, you want to come join us?”

Adam had finished his sandwich and was now eating a pickle. Sometimes, I swear my brothers were garbage disposals in a past life. “No thanks,” he called with his mouth full, “Robby, Shane, Scott and I are playing two on two down at the elementary school. I’m actually just waiting for them to come pick me up. Surprise, surprise, they’re late.” Just then a car horn honked on the street. Adam looked at his watch and faked being shocked. “Well, only ten minutes late. That’s a record in being on time for Robby. Catch you guys later, okay?” He, Jordan and Haley all left the room together, Haley and Jordan still holding hands.

Claire left her still-hot pan in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower while the bathroom’s free,” she called. “I’ll wash my dishes when I get back.”

That left me alone with Nick, who was still very slowly eating his cereal. I saw that he’d left out the milk and a box of Shredded Wheat, so I grabbed a bowl and joined him. “What’s the deal with Haley?” I asked as poured cereal into my bowl.

Nick may not be the most social person in the world, but you can have a conversation with him—if you start it. “What do you mean?” he asked.

I poured some milk. “You know what I mean. Her and Jordan, Nick.”

He looked at me funny. “What’s to tell? They’ve been going out since spring break.”

“But….” I trailed off for a moment as Nick took another bite. “What about her and Byron?”

For a moment, I thought Nick was going to laugh, but he caught himself. “Oh,” he said, looking surprised, “He didn’t tell you yet.”

Sometimes, Nick is so cryptic it’s not even funny. “Tell me what?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure exactly what the look on his face was. I think part of it was a feeling of having said too much. “Well, it’s not my story to tell. Let’s just say that Byron was not dating Haley. He would have never dated Haley.”

What the hell? Any time I’d seen Byron in the last three years, Haley hadn’t been far away. Either the two of them were together, or he had just come from Haley’s, or he was going to Haley’s. I rarely saw him with anyone but Haley.

An image began to form in my mind. I remembered Mom talking about how the boys at school were teasing Byron and calling him names in the locker room. I remembered being home last year when Adam and Jordan left for the prom and Byron sat up in his room with a book. I remembered Adam and Jordan commenting on the “hotness” of some photos of my friends getting ready to go to a dance, while Byron just said they seemed nice. “Oh,” I said in sudden understanding.

Nick nodded. “Yup. But if he asks, you didn’t find out from me. There’s about 30 copies of an old newspaper over there; read that and then you ‘accidentally’ found out, okay?” His cereal had turned to mush and it looked like he’d given up on it; he dumped the leftovers into the sink and added his bowl to the dishwasher. Without saying goodbye, he ran upstairs.

I left my cereal on the table and put the milk away before it soured. While I was up, I grabbed a newspaper from the stack Nick had indicated and started turning the pages. Nick was right; there were at least ten copies of the same paper in the stack. I returned to my seat, still looking for the article that Nick seemed to think would clear things up.

Finally I found it, and it confirmed the ‘ah-ha’ moment I’d had earlier. The picture showed two boys—one of whom could only have been Byron—and the accompanying text was all about how Byron had invited a boy to the prom. The surprise, I think, was the identity of the other boy.

Jeff Schafer was the younger brother of an old friend of mine. I hadn’t seen or spoken to his sister Dawn much since I’d gone off to boarding school, because she and Jeff lived in California and we were just never around at the same time. We used to belong to a club back in the day and whoever was around and free got together about once a month, but Dawn hadn’t come visit Connecticut since around the times the get-togethers started. I’d heard something about a giant fight with her stepsister, who’s also a friend of mine. I thought about calling Jeff’s stepsister and asking her about it, but I didn’t. I wanted to talk to Byron first.

And I got that opportunity sooner than I expected. As I was reading the article, Byron appeared in the kitchen, quietly enough that I didn’t notice him. He was wearing his pajama bottoms and not much else, and his eyes were half open. He grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and stuffed some in his mouth. While he chewed on that, he popped some bread in the toaster.

Byron turned to get some peanut butter and spotted me reading the newspaper. He blushed down to the roots of his hair but didn’t say a word. I folded the paper—I’d finished the article and didn’t want to embarrass him any more than necessary. “Morning, Byron,” I said as he poured himself some orange juice.

His face twitched, and I couldn’t tell if he was about to say something or if he was trying not to cry. Maybe a little of each. Just then, his toast popped up and he used that as an excuse to drop eye contact and turn around. Finally, he brought his food and juice to the table and sat across from me. After he spent a moment futzing with his plate, he looked up at me. “So…” he began, fading out.

I put him out of his misery. “I read the article,” I said, stating the obvious.

Byron made a sour-lemon face. “I hate that article,” he said, and then took an angry bite of his peanut butter toast.

I thought about that while he took a few more bites. The article mostly quoted Adam and Jeff. Haley was also in there, but it looked to me like she’d made a single statement and then run like hell. Byron obviously hadn’t spoken to the reporter at all. “What’s a matter with it?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Publicity,” he sighed and took another bite. “A lot of people I’ve never spoken to in my life have come over to talk to me since it came out. Most people have been nice, but not everyone.”

I eyed him critically. One thing that you need to know about Byron is that he claims to be an introvert and to prefer to be alone. But when he does decide to be social, he knows just what to say and makes friends easily. I personally think that he just rejects others before they reject him, and that’s really why he spends so much time alone. “So what kind of ‘not so nice’ have you encountered?” I asked.

Byron returned the critical eye. “Nothing too bad…yet. Just some people who want to quote the Bible at me, mostly.”

I laughed. “I’ve found that you can never argue with the Bible. Just nod and walk away.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

He had finished his breakfast already and he took his plate and my bowl over to the sink. I was afraid he’d leave the room before I was done talking with him, so I went ahead and blurted out my other thought. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Byron turned around. “What for?” he asked suspiciously.

“For being so brave about this. For coming out so publicly.” He snorted. “No, really. What if some younger guy reads that article and feels more secure about who he is because of it?”

“So I’m a role model,” he said sarcastically. He slammed the dishwasher shut, harder than I think he meant to do, and the fight went out of him with it. “I don’t look at it that way,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I’m brave. Mal, it took me some four years to accept who I am and another four years to tell a single other person. Doesn’t sound like a brave person to me; sounds like a chicken shit.”

I looked him over. “Hey, little brother,” I said, squeezing his shoulder, “Think about this for a second: Bravery isn’t the lack of fear. It’s being afraid and doing something anyway.”

Byron’s lips twitched into a small smile. “What book did you steal that quote from?” he asked.

I laughed. “Probably a whole bunch of them.”

“You took psychology last term, didn’t you?” I blushed. He was right. “Anyway, I don’t think it matters much. I am gay. I have always been gay. I will always be gay. It doesn’t matter if people know or not, but it’s easier now that I have some people on my side.”

I smiled at the resolve. There was no going back into the closet for my brother. “So, how was prom?”

A dreamy look passed over his face for a moment. “It was great. Jeff apparently loves to dance. He didn’t want to sit down at all.”

“He probably just wanted to spend as much time as possible with you.”

Byron gave a proper smile at that one. “He’s graduating today and flying in tomorrow.”

The shower had stopped upstairs and I headed for the doorway, determined to be the next one in the bathroom. “Summer of romance for you this year?”

Now, his grin was massive. “Stranger things have happened.”