1. anew

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anew
adverb
• in a new or different, typically more positive, way
• once more; again


• July 2016 •

"FYNNIE!" Wezley Grayce was knocking rapidly on his older brother's apartment door, too impatient to let his visit be a surprise. Mel hurriedly unlocked the door with a spare key (courtesy of Fynn) while Darryl clamped a hand over Wezley's mouth to stop him from waking the sleeping man inside. However, once the door was opened, the three saw Fynn stumbling over himself to reach the door, eyes half wide open and confused. Wezley threw himself at Fynn, his older brother barely managing to keep them upright.

"Happy Birthday! We got you presents and pancakes! Can he open them now, Mommy? Please?" Mel smiled and handed over two carefully wrapped boxes of varying sizes and an envelope while Darryl set down the plate of raspberry topped pancakes on the small dining table. Wezley shoved the presents into Fynn's hands and eagerly waited for him to open them.

"Thanks guys," Fynn yawned and drew his brother into a hug. Wezley hugged him back and, into Fynn's shirt, he whispered, "Are you going to open them now?" Fully awake now, Fynn laughed into Wezley's hair and sat down on the floor, unwrapping the biggest box first. When uncovered, he found a neatly folded leather jacket and a second box inside that held a new pair of boots. He looked at his parents with wide eyes.

"You actually got these for me? I mean, I know I've wanted them for a while but they're expensive and—"

"It's okay, Fynn," Darryl interrupted, "You deserve them. Besides, you're twenty now. I have a twenty year old son," he realized and chuckled. "Go out and have fun, okay?" He handed him the envelope. Fynn cautiously opened it and pulled out three tickets for the annual Fieldridge Fair.

"For you and your college friends," Mel supplied. Fynn shook his head.

"You up for the fair, Wez? I'll bring Lee." Wezley's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he launched himself at Fynn.

"Really, really, really? Can I go? Please, please, please?" Mel looked at Fynn, frowning, her eyes asking Are you sure? Fynn nodded his confirmation. Wezley broke into cheers and urged him to open the last gift. Fynn shook the box teasingly and then removed the wrapper paper and lid. On one side of the box was a board game that Wez desperately wanted to play against him, and on the other laid pencils of different lead grades, a drawing pad, and charcoal pencils.

Fynn smiled, relieved that his parents remembered to restock his drawing supplies. His best friend Olive had passed June of the previous year, and he had quickly realized his sudden needs to release his emotions. Drawing was the easiest way for him to do that so his newfound temper wouldn't blow up on anyone unexpectedly.

The Grayce family soon left Fynn to his apartment after he informed them of his plans before the fair in the evening. Once they'd left, he returned to his bedroom and leaned back to look at the ceiling. It was completely bare compared to his room at the Grayce home. The ceiling there was covered in rocket ships and rovers from his elementary years that he'd never taken down through his middle and high school years.

Olive had stuck an idea in his head back then that they'd travel to all the planets that orbited the sun, together. Fynn's thoughts flashed him back to a distant memory.

The mattress stretched inwards around the two pairs of tiny feet that landed on it, and pushed back up only to stretch when the feet came down again. The feet were part of six year-olds Fynn and Olive. Their hands reached for the ceiling in hope that each upcoming jump would take them to the stars.

"Hmph," came Olive as she slumped against the pillows, giving the poor mattress a rest. Fynn quickly joined her and tilted his feet from side to side so they bumped against hers. She played with the edges of his dark green blanket and frowned.

"Why can't we reach them? I'm tired of jumping and it's not working," Olive grumbled disappointedly. Fynn wasn't used to this Olive. He was used to the energetic enthusiast that would never give up trying. It alarmed him to see her this way, so he took hold of her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"I think I know a way," he realized with a grin. Olive returned the gesture and asked the most obvious question: "How?"

Fynn squeezed his eyes shut. He could not remember. His hands instantly clenched into his fists as he breathed out slowly. Then, he reached for his new drawing pad, snatched a random pencil from its slot, and he drew. The lead grade was thick, the lines were sharp, and the curves were bold against the white sheet. Soon enough, a replica of his bedroom ceiling's rocket sticker lay flattened on paper.

Fynn dropped the pencil and pad on his bed and laid back against his pillows. The month Olive had passed, Fynn allowed himself to grieve for hours a day and he never left his parents' house. No one tried to change this until July came around, and his friend Lee was determined to reintroduce him to sunlight. Lee understood what Olive meant to Fynn, but he also understood that cooping up for a month or longer was not healthy. Since then, Fynn decided that he'd only delve into his memories of Olive at night, where he could fall asleep to the sound of Olive's laugh and the sight of her smiling face. But, in times like these, he granted himself an extra moment or two.

His hand reached for the pendant that rested on his chest. Since the discovery of this necklace in Olive's pocket the night she drowned, Fynn had kept it around his neck every day. The inscription on the ringed pendant stayed in his mind for months. E. 08.24.98. The last five digits he'd easily figured were a birthday and E must have been the owner of the necklace, though the letter was not much to go on.

Fynn dropped the pendant back inside his shirt and dressed to go out. Today, it would be the second birthday to celebrate without Olive. And today, he'd accept that.

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The time for the fair came around as the sixth hour past noon did, and Fynn was parking onto the Grayce's driveway, having just picked up Lee from his dorm. Before either of them opened the car door, Wezley came running out the front door and repetitively pulled on the back door's handle, signaling Fynn to unlock it before the handle was snapped off.

"Jeez, Wez. Where's Mom?" He asked once Wez had settled into his seat. Just then, Mel rushed out the front door and, upon seeing Fynn in the driver's seat, put a hand to her chest in relief.

"There you are! You are not supposed to leave the house without telling me, Wezley. Understood?" Wez sank into his seat and nodded his head rapidly. Mel smiled at Lee and, addressing all of them, said, "You kids have fun, okay? And you two," she gestured towards Lee and Wez, "the first thing you do is get Fynn some funnel cake; we all known he'll be fine after that." Fynn's bored expression changed as his lips tilted up and his eyes rolled. He began backing out of the driveway to stop her from saying more, but, like always, it didn't work.

"Wear a jacket if it gets cold!" Mell called out from the front door, "And curfew is 10 since you're bringing Wez!" Wez grumbled and Fynn sighed as Lee shot the two an accusing look.

"Really? Ten? You guys are so lucky it's Fynn's birthday or I'd be ditching you at nine fifty-nine."

It was surely going to be a long night. Still, Fynn knew he wouldn't spend his birthday with anyone else. Besides; fairs were always his favorite place to go. An image of Olive waiting excitedly for the Ferris Wheel flashed, replacing the road. As quickly as it came, Fynn batted it away, relaxed in his seat, and drove.

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