Well Then

1

   "Is there any particular reason that you can't stand spending any time with me?" I ask finally after an excruciatingly awkward and silent dinner over Zoom.  Wondering why my father just couldn't be bothered to see me.  Not when I got into Nevermore, not when I got my first award for my art, not when Tyler and his shithead friends assaulted me and I was in the hospital with internal bleeding after they vandalized my mural, not when I and everyone else at school almost died last month because a psychopathic herbology teacher decided to reanimate her bigot pilgrim great-grand daddy.

"Please Xavier, can I be spared the dramatics?  I've been very busy, you know this."  He says, not even bothering to look up at the camera. 

  "Clearly, for the last ten years or so."  I don't know what I did wrong.  My older sisters got time with him. 

"Enough with the snide commentary.  If all you wanted to do on this call was chide me, this could've been done over text.  At the very least that wouldn't have pushed back rehearsals."  He whines

   "What do you even need rehearsals for, oh Great and Talented Vincent Thorpe?"

"Talent isn't perfection.  I hope you take that to heart, winning a handful of trinkets passed off as awards isn't enough to prove any kind of prowess at anything." 

I can't help but roll my eyes at that.  He wouldn't know what awards I have or haven't gotten, he's never seen them. 

   "Speaking of lack of prowess, your grandfather will be taking you back to school after the break is done in a few days."  His voice coated in derision.

"What?"

   "Your mother's father, not mine." 

Well no shit, he's dead.  "How come?" 

"If this is another tirade about how it's traumatizing that I'm not holding your hand at all times-".

   "Jesus dad, I just mean how come he's coming around?  He hasn't been around much since Mom...you know."  He cringed at the sentence, my mother is one of his father's least favorite subjects. 

"Oh, I'm not sure.  I didn't ask." 

  "Okay, thanks for letting me know." 

"You're welcome.  Now, I can't push back production anymore.  Your report card was fine, you've been keeping your nose clean at school as far as I know and you ended up being some kind of hero last semester.  Good on you for that, son.  Anything else I should know about?"  He asks uninterestedly

   "Nope, you're pretty much caught up." 

"Alright.  I'll be putting some money in your account for school supplies and whatnot.  Don't over do it, like last year..." he says still remembering how much I spent on Bianca "Make sure to call your grandfather and iron out your plans with him.  Have a good night."  He says and hangs up.

   "Good night dad..." I say to a blank screen.   I close my laptop and sigh.  What did I expect?

I take my plate to the kitchen and clean it off to put in the dish washer.  Staying alone at the manor always feels lonely.  My father got us a maid but it feels so uncomfortable to have a strange woman washing my underwear and replacing my bedsheets or anything else for me.  I'd rather just do it myself.  She can busy herself sweeping and mopping or something, it's not like she pays me any mind. 
  I'll call Grandpa Ron tomorrow, I don't feel like talking to anyone.  Well, there's one person, I haven't talked to her since my last day at school. 
I can't even begin to wrap my head around what I should feel about Wednesday.  Obviously she's not an easy person to deal with, she's selfish, manipulative and abrasive, but she's never pretended she's not.  It's not like I didn't know to expect that.  She's also brave, loyal and apparently fiercely protective.  I don't wanna push my luck with her and make her feel suffocated, I wonder if the phone was too much.   I send her a single text the day I got back home.  Just a simple "See you when term starts."  It hadn't marked at delivered, so either she never turned on the phone or she let it die.  I wish I could go to therapy about all this but Wednesday's ex boyfriend killed her so, I'm shit outta luck with that.  I haven't found another one near enough to school or home.  I can't imagine I'd have an easy time building trust with them if I did anyway.  New one might just die on me like the last. 
That was crass.
Obviously Kinbott's murder wasn't about me, and her dying was senseless.  Like that dick just wanted another body under his belt or Thornhill just felt like killing someone that day.  Who knows, but I couldn't ignore that her death while tragic, really sucked for me. 
    I should just get my supplies and toke up.  It's not like my dad would ever know and the help doesn't care one way or the other cause I don't leave a mess.  I ran up to the studio and took my stuff out.  The stash was still fresh from when I bought some with Ajax from some townie. 

Keeping the puff in my lungs for as long as I can, I starts prepping my canvas...

This was a good idea.  It had been a while since I'd let myself take a break from my own thoughts. 
I painted Bianca.  Her bright eyes and dark skin popping from each other.  I still had so many unanswered questions about her.  Seems minor compared to all the other things that have happened, but it's not nothing.  I can't remember much right after meeting her.  Getting coffee at the Weathervane  before that asshole had gotten a job there and she was there too.  We'd gotten the same coffee order and I accidentally grabbed hers.  We'd cracked a few jokes with each other and exchanged numbers.  Then suddenly I'm in a total fog and she's admitted into Nevermore.  I'm paying for all her school supplies, and I don't remember offering, or her asking.  Then I'm back to normal, we're chatting, she's joining clubs, making friends, we're bonding over our shared experience in neglectful or abusive parents, then I'm in a fog again and she's Ms.Popularity and we're Nevermore's Power Couple.  When Divina told me what had happened after her and Bianca got into an argument, things cleared up.  I didn't enjoy breaking up with her, I did care about her.  I didn't wanna get her in trouble or kicked out of school either, it's not like she didn't deserve to be there.  But I couldn't stand that I'd been manipulated for months.  Am I really that bad of a judge of character?  I mean, I had Tyler pegged right, but that one was hard to miss considering I'd tasted his shoe and one of his friends almost made my testicles reascend.  I never really told Wednesday the whole truth, maybe if I had she'd have gotten it sooner.  Violence isn't an issue to her, but bigotry never seemed her style.  I partly blame myself for not being entirely honest with her all because I didn't wanna seem like a pussy.  Maybe I deserved what happened.  The beating, Wednesday ignoring me, the imprisonment, all of it.  I could've prevented so much of it. 
I'm spiraling.  Maybe I should go to bed but painting was supposed to get this off my chest.  This?  What do I mean this?  I wanna talk about a million things, there is no this.  Shit maybe I can just text Wednesday's phone number.  Kinbott's got disconnected so I get back that error message.  Or worse, it could be reassigned to someone new, then I'm just traumadumping on some poor stranger who's probably got their own shit going on.  What if they get confused and think they did something to me?  What if they actually end up being someone I know that coincidentally got assigned the old number?  They could trace back the texts to me if they already have my number.  I'd never live it down.  I know Wednesday clearly isn't using the phone, so no harm no foul.