He passed his lips softly over her skin, grazing it bit by bit, taking his time on every spot. His breath made her shudder, and her heart beat faster. He could feel her, he could sense her entering a frenzy, but he couldn't feel it himself. It was alien to him, foreign to his own senses. Like an exterior watcher rather than an actor in the play.
He passed his fingers through her hair; her red, beautiful hair that seemed to glow afire, which had always seemed to capture him in the deepest of trances. And still, he couldn't feel the heat emanating from it; from her. His fingers touched cold, his eyes remained open. The rush of sweat, mischief and pleasure was there, but that was it. There wasn't excitement. There wasn't frenzy, not for him.
Every time he cupped her breasts in his hands, he could feel her heart beating. The motion, the stress, the rhythm. He couldn't feel his heart beating the same way. Sure, it was there. Sure, it was exciting. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't synchronized. And that, unlike any time ever before in which it had been the same, bothered him now. Now more than ever, with Bethany or any of the other girls he'd ever been with, it really, really bothered him.
When he was inside her, the animal instinct that usually took over Connor wasn't there anymore. It had died out. Or perhaps, it hadn't ever been there. It was as if every time he had laid with her or with any other of the girls before he had been set into an automatic mode, like a machine which knew all its movements and always repeated them without failure. But machines don't think, they act out of habit. And Connor was realizing just now that he had lost the appetite for such habit.
And when it ended, she asked him to stay, like she had never done before.
-"... Hold me... please."—she had said in a soft whisper.
So he did, he held her tight, as if he were holding on to the things he wanted to keep for dear life. And she was there, and she was a person, and so was he. And they had been playing like this for so long now, and they knew each other's bodies by heart.
But even so, he felt like he was all alone. And if he asked Red, he suspected he would get a similar answer.
As he had her, he passed his palm over her scars. Those on her back, on her shoulder and below her arms. He had never asked what they meant. He had never wanted to know. She had never wanted to tell him, either.
But something else was different tonight. She had asked him to hold her, for starters, and now his mind raised so many questions. Questions that didn't seem to come out of curiosity, but something else. Perhaps it was the gloom and the melancholy December had brought upon everyone, or perhaps it was that Connor could sense that there was something going on in Alexa's mind. Inside that mysterious head of hers, behind her something fire and deep down, beneath her inner monsters.
The two of them remained that way in dreadful silence, needed silence. The only time on their shared meetings in which they could really afford such commodity. He wondered to himself, and like always, she could read right through his mind.
-"... Well why are you waiting for, hmm?"—she said, still held in Connor's embrace under the covers of her bedroom—"I know you well enough to tell that you have many questions to ask me right now, Green."
Connor stopped breathing, feeling how the tension build up in his throat. Immobile, he rendered a million different questions inside his head. Things he had been wondering for some time now, and he had never even thought about asking. It was weird, being given the good light to go on and ask them. And having that permission seemed so odd to him; it made it impossible for him to decide where to begin.
There were many questions in his mind now, as there had been for a while now. All along they had been torturous enough to cause him more than just mere curiosity. It made him question the motives upon which his "relationship" with Red was based on. The real material, the bedrock. The reasons behind why this was even a thing for the two of them. But right now, those weren't the questions that rested upon his mind.
Instead, he couldn't help but feel the scars on her body with his fingers, and sense the sadness, the loneliness in her voice. He kept caressing them lightly, too afraid to hurt them even further. To hurt her even further.
She got the message. He wasn't been too subtle about it. She had been expecting the marks to raise questions for a while now.
-"... Do you want to know why do I have these?"
-"... Only if you want to tell me, Red... Remember the deal we made?"— Connor asked—"... How I promised I'd be your friend? Well... I am your friend right now, as I am always."
Red moved away from Connor's embrace, pushing off the covers and sitting up on the bed. Connor arched his back a bit and rested himself on his elbows. She removed her hair from her back, exposing the area of her lower neck to him. Connor could see them. There were so many of them. Aligned with beauty marks and freckles traced through her rosy body, several traces from the past marking their place on her.
Connor was in shock. The shimmering light of the candle Red had lit for them allowed him to see clearly for the first time to that which had always been there yet he had never bothered to look. Tentatively; scared, at first, he reached out his hand and passed his palm over her skin, feeling it. Alexa flinched a bit from the cold of his touch.
There were just way too many of them.
-"... You know, I wasn't always this way."—she said, almost in a whisper, recalling things from a long time ago.
Connor scoffed a bit after hearing that.
-"Of course not. I know you weren't born with scars..."
Connor could almost see her rolling her eyes.
-"You know I don't mean that. I mean... I wasn't always the way I am today, you know..."—she said, making a long pause, before adding the revelation she was intending—"... I used to be in love, once."
That took Connor's attention. He stopped the movement of his hand, snapping his neck directly in the direction of Alexa's turned head.
-"At least that's what I thought."—she added.
-"... What happened?"
Alexa switched positions, placing her legs over Connor's, and taking a seat on his thighs. Her exposed breasts and love bites that had marked her chest and neck making her look like a beautiful specter.
-"... He isn't anyone you know."—she explained, then flipping her hair—"Not Cameron, obviously. It was way before that. That dunce couldn't tell out love if it hit punched him right in the face."
Once she had rested herself more comfortably, Connor started caressing her arm with his. This felt more intimate to him than any other moment the two of them ever had together. More even so than every time they had sex. Unlike those times, this felt much more secret, and far more forbidden.
-"... When I was fourteen, I met this guy. He was the nephew of a friend of my parents."—she narrated, caressing Connor's chest with her dry palms softly—"He moved in with him and his wife here in Yule. I never asked why, but I think it had to do something with him searching for a place of his own to leave to college. He was seventeen at the time, I think..."
Now Connor's attention was fully focused on Red's hazel eyes, which were avoiding his own. Red went on with her story.
-"... Sometimes when I think about it, I feel so stupid. He was way older than me, and he obviously didn't return my feelings. He was just looking for a good time. Something easy to entertain himself while he stayed here."
Alexa then left Connor's lap, wrapping herself in a white bed sheet and walking towards the window, watching the snow falling on the street. Connor remained inside the bed.
-"... He told me he loved me. He said I was beautiful. Taught me how to smoke cigarettes and took me out on Friday nights to clubs..."—she said, moving her head slightly so that Connor could see the contour of her lips—"I lost my virginity to him. We were together often. Nobody at school knew; he had asked me not to tell a soul, not even my parents. But I didn't care, because I was soooo in love... Until one day, he told me it was over. One week after, he left. Without even saying goodbye. Right before I could tell him that... that I..."
Connor saw how she touched one particularly notorious scar above her left shoulder with her right hand. He was voiceless, completely clueless about what he could say or do about what she was telling him.
-"... I tried reaching out to him, but nothing. I had this... this, thing taking over me. It drove me crazy. I couldn't get it out of my head...! ... That's when I started making these scars, and stealing my dad's scotch, and mixing up with pills I found on the cabinets inside the hotel... I took whatever I could find; if there were any left, I'd take them. I'd even steal the ones from the guests that were out for the day, making sure it wouldn't look like there were any missing... I... I wanted to die..."
She paused, taking a minute to compose herself and take a deep breath before she went on.
-"... Then one day something happened. I made a bad mix, a very, very bad mix. When my mother found me, she thought I was a goner for sure, and I had just turned fifteen... they got me to the hospital as fast as they could, and they flushed my stomach... they said I could have died. And badly. And then... and then..."
Red turned around, facing Connor finally, with the same strong expression she always bore. And, for the first time ever, he saw something that truly broke his heart: a single tear falling down her right cheek. She was caressing her belly softly, and that's when Connor knew.
-"... And then they told me that I had lost my baby."—she said, breaking her own heart a little bit more with every word—"And that I had become... barren."
Connor didn't wait for another second. He stood up slowly, not caring he was still fully undressed, and walked towards her, taking her between his arms, and just hugging her. She wasn't sobbing or whimpering, but she was crying, like a person who has lost everything and knows that tomorrow won't ever be the same.
-"If none of that would have happened, the due date... It would have been now, in December... I still keep the sonogram..."—she was saying—"I thought she was going to be girl. I was going to name her Lucy, like my grandmother..."
How could she live for so long with such baggage, such trauma? How could she keep it all to herself, to her family? How could she endure the horrible, horrible things that came from what could possibly be one of the most tragic things Connor had ever heard?
He thought about Red's strength, and her sad story, and how in the end the two of them were so alike. She had been right all along; they weren't that different after all. It became clear how his loss was just like hers. How the two of them carried ghosts they would have on their backs their whole life, no matter how much over them they got. Which in reality, was next to nothing.
-"... You're not saying anything..."—Red whispered, more out of curiosity rather than accusation—"Even strangers would say something like 'I'm sorry for your loss' or 'it will get better...'"
Her slightly sarcastic tone was misguiding, but Connor knew well just how impossible this was for her at the moment. He also knew that what she needed wasn't sympathy, because she loathed that. What she needed was his silence. His silence, and his embrace, and his promise of never ever telling a soul.
After the few minutes of silence that followed, Red muttered a small 'thank you' just loud enough for Connor and nobody else to hear, not even the ghosts.
He let her go, and she went back to the bed, sitting down as she combed her hair with the brush that laid by the nightstand table. He watched her, without saying anything for a while, but then curiosity took the best of him, and asked what happened after that.
Red sighed, clearly exhausted from the tale. But the hard part was past, and she had promised Connor at least some form of answers. Leaving
-"Well, I was a mess. My parents sent me to every psychiatrist they could pay, so that I could cope with the loss. But I was never the same again. The teachers at school noticed, and I got sent to Lisbug, who in turn sent me to the Andrew Graham Foundation... I lost touch with my friends, I stopped going to the cheerleading squad practice... Got horrible grades, barely even talked to anyone... People started nasty rumors about me that I was addicted to PCP, but I never bothered to care."
Things were starting to make much more sense to Connor now, clicking together, one by one. The something fire behind Red's eyes had not been the result of anything other than true battle spirit. Through the hardships, she rose again.
-"... Until one day, I met... the little birdie."
Connor could see how Red's lips formed a smile. A sad, melancholic, grateful smile, like the ones you see in the people who talk about long lost loves or better times left in the past.
-"... The little birdie... it's... it's a person, then?"—Connor asked.
-"Oh, yes. Yes, the little birdie is a person, of course..."
-"... Why do you call them that?"
Alexa became thoughtful, making the same face she did every time she was trying to come up with an answer to something, or when she was reading Connor's palm.
-"... You know how birds are kept in cages?"—she asked, and Connor nodded, making her go on—"Well, let's say... the little birdie is a beautiful, beautiful bird. But it's sick... it... it cannot sing, like other birds do. So, to keep it safe, they keep the little birdie inside a cage... a fancy cage, it's big, and has a lot of room... and sometimes, they move it from one cage to another cage, just so it can have a change of scenery and not get sad. But it's always being watched. And always inside a cage."
Needless to say, Connor wasn't following, but he didn't comment on anything. He just contented himself with listening to what Red had to say, just as she seemed to be contented by telling him about the bird.
-"... And since it can't sing, it loves to listen to others sing. It's its favorite thing in the world. And Troye's voice... Troye's voice is its favorite."
Connor could see why the bird would think that, and secretly, he could see himself agreeing. Alexa had already turned her head towards Connor, and was now leaning in closer, little by little, making him rest his back as she was getting almost on top of him.
-"So the little birdie wants Troye to be happy, so that he can keep singing, and the bird can keep listening. And the little birdie... It... It was the first person I ever told about this, other than my mom and dad... and they understood, you know? They understood, and they didn't ask for explanations, and instead of pity gave me unconditional support, and comfort, and a friend to go to... and to this day, I know they would kill for me, just as they know that I would kill for them. And if the little birdie wants Troye to be happy, then I'll do everything, and I mean everything I can, to make it so..."
Now they were both laying on the bed again. But they weren't doing anything; instead, Red rested her head on Connor's chest, and he caressed her hair. That's all she wanted right now, and Connor was more than willing to give it to her.
-"... And if making Troye happy means to get you in his life, then so be it."—she said.
Connor slept over at Losey's Inn that night.
---
Now that Christmas was the main dish in everyone's calendar, things in Yule started matching the town's name.
Rarely was a street not covered in white, with children still shoveling off the excess snow from the nearby neighborhood houses' in exchange for some cash from the owners. Connor remembered doing the same with Alexis a couple of times in the past, although only for the foster parents of the time, and of course with no pay in exchange. The kids who were still too young for that or who just didn't care much did snowmen instead, and some others made all-out snow ball fights. It was endearing to watch.
The rows and rows of evergreens were now the only kind of trees that still had leaves in all town. All forms of pine, oak and holly that never shed their greenery were being decorated by the locals, with everything from ornamental spheres to Christmas wreaths. Candles and Advent Crowns could be see almost everywhere, and the occasional inflatable angel or Santa Claus here and there.
Apparently, Yule was known for Christmas season. They didn't have any big parades or anything too flashy, but what was true was that all of the townsfolk would decorate the streets together, and from what Connor had heard from Grace, it wasn't unusual for neighbors to dine together on Christmas eve. They took the celebration much more spiritually than what Connor had ever seen before, even in the whole cold north. There was this thing in particular; apparently, there was some sort of caramel corn that served as a seasonal treat for the children. Not like the candy; like actual corn coated in caramel syrup. The thought of it might sound disgusting, but you have to try it first, and then you realize how much you love it instead.
School was nearing winter break, and with it, a couple of weeks off for the kids to go back to their homes and celebrate Christmas and New Year's, to then go back to school like in January. That meant that, of course, as the date of the break approached, the teachers were driving themselves and the students crazier with every second that passed.
Needless to say to Connor it was hard not thinking about what Red had told him, if not simply impossible. But he had to keep it in. It wasn't anyone's business—not even his. It was a foreign secret, something that made Alexa be truly naked in front of Connor for the first time ever, and probably the last. He didn't even write it on his journal, and he wasn't planning on it either.
So instead, he distracted himself with other stuff. Or homework, to be more precise. Ms. Ballinger had left the entire class a book assignment for them to start reading before they came back from their winter break. She had chosen The Count of Montecristo, which naturally was tedious as hell. Caspar was having the hardest time reading it, since his attention spawn was so short and his level of interest almost null. Connor was already around the fourth chapter when Caspar was still trying to get through the third page, and that was definitely a problem.
In art class with Ms. Mourney they had started working with clay, because for some apparent reason, she thought it'd be a good idea. After the first class was over, she had already changed her mind. Along with Andrea Russet, one of the most popular girls in their year, after one of the Jacks (Connor wasn't sure if Johnson or Gillinsky) had 'accidentally' left a stain on her shirt... around her chest area.
Math was as tense as always, now with exams pretty much every two days. However, Connor was slightly entertained watching Nash trying to solve them and failing every single time. He usually stayed after class and tried to flirt with Ms. Akana to see if she would give him any extra credit. But just like Mr. Hartman with the school's new lunch lady, his ape-like mannerisms didn't get him anywhere. Connor overheard someone saying that Ms. Akana had actually said to him that 'his attempts were not just futile, but depressing.'
The bright side of things was that now Connor was spending more time with his friends. He eventually decided to give in to Lisbug's insistence and call them that, because well, what harm could it do? Once he realized it, he had already gotten to know each of them very well. Joe was the prankster, that much had always been clear. He was the helpless class clown, and got himself into trouble nine out of ten times. If it hadn't been for Connor's fight with Troye earlier in the year, Joe would probably have been the one to inaugurate detention, and probably with Mr. Graceffa filling up the post of watchman instead of Mr. Hartman. Caspar was his best friend since they were little, and unlike Joe, was as gullible and naïve as a baby toddler. It sorts of made up the balance in their friendship. He was very athletic, hence forming part of the basketball team, the track team and God knows what other teams. He was also very challenge academically, whilst Joe was just very lazy when it came to school assignments. Will was older, so Connor rarely ever saw him in school, but technically they had to be in the same year instead of Connor hanging out with the rest of the juniors. Whenever Connor spotted him around school, he saw him next to his girlfriend, Arden, who was definitely the more sociable of the two. They were undeniably good together, but a pain to look at and be around, according to Joe's exact words. Surprisingly, Oli was the most responsible of the bunch. Connor could see how he truly tried hard on his assignments, homework and exams just so he could keep up with decent grades. He wasn't gifted by any means, but he sure got the A for effort. He was also the kindest, and always stuck out for his friends, even when he was subject to their constant teasing. It didn't take much brains to see why Lilly liked him so much.
Yes, he had already gotten used to idea of having friends around. Lilly of course would have been there anyways whether he liked it or not; and he was surprisingly glad she decided to do just that, because she made the daily hell a lot more bearable.
Well, she and Blue did.
Troye and Connor spent so much time together now, even during school hours. He still had Lia walking behind him most of the time, but Connor had learnt to fade her voice out and instead focus on his friend. The times they had without her were certified golden, too. Asides the entire 'private' stuff, of course. Now Connor had become frequent at Troye's piano lessons with Chester (whom Troye called Mr. See) after he was done with his swimming practices for the winter, sometimes accompanied by Lilly, when she wasn't at the drama club rehearsing with Alexis, and Oli, who just liked tagging along in general. Troye had spent a lot of time in his lessons, and Chester seemed to be quite satisfied with his pupil. It was amazing how he could manage doing that, the band practice, his other practices with Lia, going to the Clinic on Sundays, and even keeping up good grades. Talk about superman. Connor didn't know much about piano, so he wasn't really sure what to think of about what he heard in the music room. Oli, however, played guitar, and knew his way around other instruments as well, and according to him, Troye was really showing improvement.
One afternoon, Connor and Oli were there listening to Troye play with Chester tutoring him. Lilly was at drama club rehearsals at the moment, and they had all agreed to meet up after both things were done so that they could all go over to Grace's house for pizza. Apparently, Grace had insisted that Connor brought over the friends Alexis always talked to her about at least once so that she could make an attempt at being a good host or something like that. Troye was playing something Connor had never heard before by someone Connor hadn't ever read about, and it sounded good enough to him. In fact, it sounded about that to everyone in the room, apparently. Oli had his eyes closed, and his head was beating slightly to the rhythm, as was the tapping of his right foot. Chester had a hand on his chin, scratching his unshaved beard, as he frowned in concentration, listening to Troye's playing.
And Troye played; Connor saw how his fingers traced patterns and motions on the piano like he would a painter with a blank canvas and ink. He was enticed by it, lost in it. It was almost possible to catch a glimpse of the drops of sweat falling down his knuckles and his cheekbones, just like his breath vaporizing in the cold air.
When the song had ended, Connor found himself dumbstruck, sitting on the same position he had been with his mouth open agape, as both Chester and Oli stood up clapping and saying words of praise, as well as some further instruction and tips for improvement. Troye nodded, accepted the criticism and denied the praise humbly, like he always did, but the slight smirk on his lips couldn't fool Connor from knowing he was at least a bit proud of himself.
-"Well, I think that's very much enough for today, Troye."—Chester announced—"I expect to see you here next week!"
-"Yes! Yes, absolutely, Mr. See..."—Troye replied, still sitting by the piano, and nodding with energy and excitement.
-"We have to work twice as much to make up for the time we'll lose during winter break, so we'll have to fasten up the pace a bit, but with how far you've gotten already I'm sure we won't need to change much from our current method. You're doing very well."
Chester then excused himself, saying he had some other matters to attend, and was on his way out of the classroom. Oli had started jumping around in a sudden burst of energy.
-"Dude! Dude! Bro! We're so gonna rock the contest! We're gonna play with the Broods! Like THE Broods! Damn it, I'm hyped!"
-"Hey, hey, ease it up a bit, Oli! There's going to be a lot of great competition there, there's no way of knowing if we're going to win."—Troye said, unable to get Oli to calm down.
-"Screw that! I have sooo much energy right now! I have to jump! I have to run! I-I-I have to go find Lilly and then drag her along! See ya two lads later!"
And just like that, Oli barged out of the music class like a speeding bullet. Troye shook his head in embarrassment, whilst Connor scoffed humorously.
-"You know, he isn't wrong."—Connor said, earning Troye's attention—"You really have gotten a lot better. You guys really do have a shot at the contest."
Troye did his best to hide the slight sense of self-satisfaction he was getting from Connor's compliment.
-"You're only saying that because you're my friend..."
-"No; I say it because it's true."
Troye wasn't used to get so many compliments to his playing, let alone Connor's. It was funny watching him trying to cope with good comments.
-"Damn it how am I going to endure this type of stuff when I'm at the program...? Well, if I get in, that is..."
-"Why wouldn't you get in?"
-"Well..."—Troye said dubitatively—"Lia and I are auditioning together... and well, lately we've not been..."
Troye sighed in frustration.
-"In 'sync', you know?"
Connor nodded. It didn't take much brains to tell that the lovely couple weren't as lovely as of late. Connor blamed Lia for the most, but all joke aside, he didn't enjoy seeing Troye coping with this the wrong way either. It was frustrating, at the least.
But Connor had a thought. Something he had come up with for a while now, and he hadn't told Troye because, well, he didn't know what he would say about it. But all this complaining about Lia only drove him to think that, perhaps, it wasn't such a bad idea after all.
-"Say, Troye..."—Connor started saying, choosing his wording quite carefully—"Have you ever thought about... well, you know... not auditioning with Lia?"
Troye's reaction was a mix of confusion, astonishment, and amusement; quite the nervous laugh followed by a lot of 'yeah right' and 'that's insane' and so forth. Clearly the idea didn't appeal to him that much, or at least he thought of it ridiculous.
-"But why not!?"—Connor protested, convinced it was the way to go—"All I've heard coming from her every time the two of you have been practicing is how much she disapproves of the music you play!"
-"Well, yes, that's true; but that's because we're a team! We're both supposed to be working on similar grounds, it doesn't work if we don't compromise to the teamwork!"—Troye defended, as if it was obvious.
-"But you're the only one compromising! To getting down to her level of performance!"
Connor stood up and started walking around, quite distressed, as Troye could see by the movements of his arms. He started saying how Lia kept slowing Troye down, how her voice wasn't even appropriate for Troye's pieces, how he was a better pianist than what she gave him credit for, how his original songs were way better than what she knew how to appreciate...
-"Huh. Yeah, right."—Troye scoffed with a downwards gaze—"My original pieces? They're amateur's work, Connor."
Connor stopped walking around and stood right in front of Troye.
-"Bullshit."—he said—"Play me that song that I like. The one from the camping trip. Come on! Right now, the melody."
-"But I don't have any lyrics yet—"
-"Oh, give me a break; play it already!"
For the sake of shutting Connor up, Troye cracked his knuckles, and started playing the melody. It was as beautiful as before, if not more. Catchy, slow-paced... Troye had improved his technique quite a lot, and it could tell, even in this song that only he knew how to play. However, he was right; he still didn't have most of the lyrics down yet. Only the chorus, for the most part.
-"... Take me back to the basics and the simple life... Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease..."—he sang, and then he remained silent, lacking the right verses to fill in the rest of the song.
Connor was no longer walking around or complaining about Lia's lack of compromise to their so called team; now, he just stood there, right next to Troye's place, with his arms crossed and his eyes frowning. He was almost certain Troye had already finished the song; however, he now saw he was wrong.
Troye finished playing, sighing heavily in defeat.
-"See? Incomplete."—he stated.
Connor didn't say anything. He walked to Troye's piano seat, and sat right next to his friend. In a feeble attempt, he tried to play the first verse of the song, failing humorously, and Troye shook his head and spoke up.
-"No, no, it's like this, remember?"—he said, playing it correctly, and Connor started catching up.
After a few minutes, Connor had the basic melody of the entry verse of the song down to a notch. It was hardly what Troye could do with his playing, but it was definitely more than just nothing.
-"Good... good, that's very good."—Troye observed—"You know, you're quite the quick learner."
Connor stopped playing, and started thinking. He started thinking about what Troye had told him about this song, and about what it meant. And things came up to his mind.
Memories. Memories about things long lost, that for some reason, brought him back to the music.
-"You know, when I was little."—Connor started saying, avoiding Troye's eyes—"And I mean about like six or seven, I used to be, like... I don't know, fat? Like a fat kid?"
Troye laughed with his eyebrows raised, clearly confused.
-"Just bear with me, ok? So, the thing is, I was fat. This was just before my dad got me into swimming. And the kids in my school were all children of Woodsmen or God-knows-what, the point is I was fat and they were not. So, I started to eat less and less at home, thinking that if I didn't ate, then I would lose weight."
At this, Troye stopped laughing, instead growing concerned.
-"You did not become—you know...?"
-"Oh, anorexic? No, no, never to that level. But I did stop myself before dessert, and I did lose weight, but not healthfully, to be exact. The teachers didn't notice, but my mom did. She always paid close attention to me and my siblings. She was... she was a wonderful person."
Connor made a brief pause, to remember his mother plastered on his mind. When he was a little kid, she seemed like the strongest woman in the entire world. He saw her with her floral apron, attending customers at the flower shop she worked at with her friends from the neighborhood. She had studied at university, but after she got married and became a mom, she decided she wanted to dedicate herself to gardening, it had always been a passion of hers. Connor got her green eyes, as did all of his siblings, which was pretty amazing. She used her short dirty blonde hair at the length of her shoulder, and she always bore a smile on her face...
Connor sighed, determined to go on with the thought before he lost himself between more ghosts.
-"The thing is, she knew I was embarrassed, so she did this trick of sorts. Whenever I didn't finish my food, she would say she had to leave the house, and she exited, leaving me at home with Nicola or Dustin. And then, she'd call the house's phone from her cell. She would ask my siblings not to answer it, so I would go do so instead. I would answer the phone, and it would be her, on the other end of the line. I loved hearing her through the phone, for some reason. I guess I must have been the dumbest kid in the world, because she had just left and why would she call? But I still answered, and I would still be happy that she called, even if I had just seen her... and she... she would say, 'hello, Connor, sweetie, it's mom. I've heard you haven't eaten today? You're down to your skin and bones, baby! Go and finish your dinner, and then mom will take you out for some ice cream.'"
It was almost as if Connor could hear her right then, at that moment. What he remembered the most about her was her voice over the phone, noise and everything. It was nice, because it made her feel more real to him. Like she had really been there for him, on the other side of the line.
-"... I would always obey to what she told me on the phone. Got me to eat, at least."—Connor said, finishing his story, not realizing he had been tearing up as he told Troye all of it—"And, I don't know... that's... that made me feel at ease, you know? Like your song, and about what it is... I think... I think that if you want lyrics, you can think about that sort of things, right?"
At first, Connor had almost forgotten that he had been telling the story to Troye. Not even Alexis knew that much about his mom. But then, when Troye placed his palm on Connor's back, he remembered where he was, and whom he was with, and what he was doing. And strangely, he didn't regret telling this to the mysterious gas station kid. In fact, he would say he was almost glad.
-"... I think... I think we should go catch up with the rest."—Troye said—"You know, and go over to your house?"
-"... Yeah..."—Connor replied, quietly—"Yeah, maybe we should."
---
On the way back to Grace's house, Troye drove most of the way, taking Lilly in the co-pilot seat, and Connor, Alexis, Mikey and Oli were all in the back seat, and it was needless to say that they could barely fit in. Troye had tried to talk Lia into coming with them, much to everyone's dismay, but luckily for them, she refused, saying she had too much homework. And, once they were close enough to the house, Troye made everyone move around and switch places, so that he could give Mikey another driving lesson, which he had been doing for a while. So, Mikey drove, Troye sat in the co-pilot seat, and Lilly was sent to the back. And somehow she occupied even more space than what Mikey did. It probably was the hair.
A couple of times, Alexis was convinced they were going to crash, but Mikey managed to not destroy the car (much to everyone's surprise), and he seemed to be pretty excited about getting his learner's permit early next year.
-"I'm gonna be the master of the road! The fast and the furious! Meteor, like the anime series...!"—Mikey kept saying, trying to pretend confidence when in reality, everyone could see he was really tense and sweating everywhere.
-"Yo, Mikey, chill out! You're gonna end us back here!"—Lilly complained—"You don't want to make Alexis here miss her very first date ever, don't you!?"
Alexis' reaction was priceless. She pretty much started stuttering nonsense, going bright red, almost as much as her beanie, and attempting to hit Lilly several times, and failing. Both Oli and Troye started teasing her, and Connor laughed in confusion.
-"Date? Say what now?"—he asked, trying to pretend he wasn't totally freaking out.
-"It's not a date! Oh, dear God..."—Alexis complained.
-"Keep telling yourself that, but it's a date."—Lilly said, defending her point and then turning to Connor—"That sweetie kid from the drama club Trevor Moran finally asked her out today! And she said yes, so it's a date!"
Alexis' blush was now the same color as a pomegranate.
-"We're just reading lines... he's the Mad Hatter after all..."
That was the last thing that was said about Alexis' supposed date with her now long-time crush, but Connor made a mental note to find out more as soon as he could.
They finally arrived to Grace's house, and Mikey attempted to park, only to knock down a couple of trash cans in the process, because there was some other car at the usual parking space which nobody had ever seen before and did not know who it may belong to. After Troye fixed the parking of the car, the entire lot headed straight towards Grace's doorstep, most of them laughing at some joke Oli had made that was, apparently, quite hilarious. Mikey used his house key to open the door, and one by one, everyone entered.
-"Grace! Grace, we're home!"—Mikey called out, then noticing the lights of the living room were lit—"Oh, she must be over there! Grace?"
Mikey went directly to the living room, but as soon as he had gotten to the end of the lobby, he stopped on his tracks, frozen. Connor saw him standing there, astonished for some reason, as if in shock. He exchanged a look of concern with Alexis, and then with Troye. Slowly, he walked towards his foster brother.
-"Mikey? Mikey, what's wrong?"
When he got to the entrance of the living room, he saw Mikey was looking at Grace, who sat in one of the dining table chairs, conversing with a young man sitting on one of the living room's couches.
-"I... I don't know who that is..."—Mikey whispered, quite confused.
-"Who that is? Maybe he's just a friend of—"
And then, Connor saw who it was.
Alexis walked over as well, followed by the rest, and the minute she saw him, she let out a huge gasp, taking a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes widening as plates from the shock. And Grace had heard, because she turned in their direction, and immediately stood up, with an uneasy smile on her face.
-"Hey, kids! We... we have a visitor... or rather, Connor you do. He came asking for you."
Oh, but Connor knew he had come asking for him.
The young man stood up from his seat at the couch, and then, Connor saw him fully, just the same way he had when they were little. He wore travel pants, hiking boots and a hunting jacket which he seemed to use to shelter himself from the cold.
-"... Hello, Connor."—he said, with a low, raspy voice.
His dark, dirty blonde hair, much more brunet than his own, which he kept really short. His green eyes, just like his, only without the eye bags below them, and still, somehow sadder than Connor's. He was also taller than Connor, and even so more than Troye, but not so much. The shape of his face had always been that round? Had his knuckles always been so wrinkled?
Alexis stood behind Connor in fear, and he placed his arm in front of her, then taking a step forward.
But speaking the truth, he was the one who was truly scared.
-"... It's me, Connor. It's Dustin, your older brother."—he finally said, making everyone else, including Troye, turn pale—"It's... it's been a long time."
He was right.
---
A/N
...
... Hey don't look at me like that! I told you shit would go down in winter! I mean it's intended!
So what do you think Dustin wants? Also how much do you want to kill me right now?
See ya soon, you crazy lot! (Please don't be crazy enough to track me down and murder me; my phone already got stolen this week and getting a replacement has been HELL #ThirdWorldProblems)
--Coffee
PS: Please stand by for murder schedule announcement.