Before going back to class, I shake off the pain Lady's comment inflicted on me. I am able to get through the afternoon because I know I'll be meeting up with Quincey later on. That thought alone makes me hold on, I can't wait to see him.
As promised, Quincey comes to pick me up after class. He finished a little earlier than me so he waited in front of my class.
"First to come out this time?" Quincey says. "Why are you in such a hurry?"
"Try to guess."
"Hmm," he pretends to be in deep thought. "What could it be?"
I hold in a laugh as I walk past him. We make our way out of school together and I'm so on top of the world I ignore the nasty looks some girls give me.
"Miss Dugray," Quincey opens the door of the car for me.
"Why thank you Mr Mason," I get in.
As soon as Quincey enters, we hear the door at the back open as someone hops in behind me.
"Waaah, nice ride," the person says.
"Orson?" Quincey and I turn to him.
"I didn't know you bought a car," he puts on his seat belt. "You could have offered to drop me off."
"Get out," Quincey scowls at him.
"Why?"
"I'm hanging out with Shannon today. Just us. Not you and us."
"It's ok," I intervene. "We can drop him on our way."
"I don't want to. He can take the bus, he's a big boy."
"Please," Orson leans forward. "I'm really tired I don't even have the strength to walk to the bus stop."
"That's none of my business."
"Quincey," I make him face me. "try to be a little considerate. How long will it take to stop by his house?"
He opens his mouth to say something but takes in a breath instead.
"Fine," he accepts.
"Thanks Shannon," Orson says.
Quincey and I put on our seat belts as Orson makes himself comfortable closing his eyes to take a little nap.
"Phew," another person hops in behind Quincey. "Just in time."
"Kenneth," I turn to him. "Uh... Hi."
"No, no, no, no," Quincey grumbles squeezing the wheel.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Kenneth puts on his seat belt.
"Go away," Quincey looks at him through the rear view mirror. "I will not move an inch until the both of you get out."
"You agreed to take me," Orson says still with his eyes closed. "I believe you're a man of your word."
"I don't live that far," Kenneth taps Quincey's arm. "I won't disturb you guys for long."
"That's not the point. I'm not a taxi driver!"
"Now, now," Kenneth reaches out to massage Quincey's shoulders. "Calm down. Driving your friends home is not going to kill you."
"He's right," I defend them. "It's no big deal, why are you being so uncooperative?"
"Because the more time I spend driving these guys around, means that we have less time to spend together!"
"Oh..."
"Hmm hmm," Kenneth chants, "What's this? When exactly did you love birds become an item?"
"What?" I'm surprised that he'd ask something like that. "W-we're not-"
"It's none of your business," Quincey turns to him. "What's gotten into you today?"
"Carrying Lady's tray gave him new life," Orson's sleepy voice answers.
"True," Kenneth pretends to be shy. "How did you know?"
"Elementary."
Kenneth laughs, but it's way too much for a comment that was just slightly funny.
"By the way Quincey," he says once he's done. "Thanks for this morning. I wouldn't have been here if you hadn't pumped me up."
They exchange a knowing look through the mirror, and after a few seconds Quincey finally decides to move the car. We decide to drop Kenneth off first because he's way too talkative.
"Thanks," he says as he gets off in front of his house. "Um, Shannon...," he comes to my side, "Do you think I can send a message to Lady later? Something like "Goodnight", or "Sweet dreams"."
"Go ahead," I answer. "She won't kill you. But don't take it to heart if she doesn't answer or blows you off."
"Yeah..."
Even though it was just for a little while, it was nice to have the old Kenneth back, hopefully it will last.
"Hang on," I reach out the window to tap his arm. "You're almost there."
"Really?"
"Lady wasn't just hurt by what you did," I explain. "She also felt humiliated, her pride received a huge blow. If it had stayed between you two it may have been solved by now. But the whole school knows about it, even the teachers."
"I heard a few of them tried to comfort her," Quincey adds.
"I know," Kenneth sighs. "It's bad."
"However," I continue.
"However?"
"Now that her anger has faded, she's missing you too."
"You think?" His face lights up.
"I'm sure."
He does nothing to hide his excitement as he thanks me again then greets Quincey before he leaves.
"That's interesting," Quincey says. "Who knew you could be so nice?"
"Nah, I'm just in a good mood. Don't get used to it."
While Orson sleeps peacefully, we head on to his house which according to Quincey is a little further away. I notice how smooth Quincey's driving is, I'm impressed at how well he assimilated the things Sam taught him.
"Orson's house is around here?" I ask as we drive around a neighborhood I know like the back of my hand.
"Yeah. Oh that's right, Tiffany didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
Quincey doesn't need to answer my question because he stops in front of a house I didn't think I'll be seeing anytime soon. A house that is full of memories of Walter (Tiffany's dad), full of memories of my childhood, of a happier and simpler time.
"No way..."
I step out of the car to come closer to the house that somehow looks like a mirage to me.
"It's still hard to believe," Quincey says as he joins me. "But this is Orson's house now."
"Orson lives here? Tiffany knew about this?"
"She knew it was sold in the beginning of summer."
"This summer? Why didn't she tell me?"
"From what I gathered you guys didn't have much time to talk on the phone."
"That's true," I say feeling frustrated about being left out, "but even with the little time we had, we were still able to talk about a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like-" I interrupt myself as I remember our short conversations. "We talked about... about..."
Me. We talked about me. Every single time I called that's all we talked about. Me. I never asked about her, about how her day was. I always had something to complain about, and she just listened.
Even on that dreaded day. On the anniversary of her dad's disappearance, I called and we talked about my silly problems that paled in comparison to what she was going through. There's only one day in a year Tiffany desperately needs me, and I didn't come through.
"She was probably waiting for an appropriate time to bring the subject up," Quincey says. "She knows the house is important to you too."
"Not as much as it is to her," I feel my throat squeeze. "Did she cry a lot?"
"From what Sam told me, she was devastated at first, but she got over it quickly."
I can't believe she didn't tell me, not even a word. Nothing. Then again, I hardly gave her a chance to talk, when could she have told me? Even after I came back I immediately caused trouble having silly fights with Quincey.
One of the main reasons I was so furious with Tiffany the day she betrayed me, was that I considered myself an irreproachable friend to her while she turned out to be a terrible one. However, it appears that I wasn't that much of a friend either.
I didn't even ask her what she ended up doing on that day.
At this moment I'm not reminded of my hatred for Tiffany. The only thing in my mind is the image of her crying alone and I can't help but blame myself for not noticing her pain, for being so insensible.
"I want to go in."
Quincey doesn't question my request. He simply goes to the car to wake Orson up so the latter can let us in.
I'm too impatient to wait, so I go ahead of them. Orson barely opens the door that I rush in without worrying about being impolite.
I thought it was going to feel different, but it's like I entered a time machine. Of course there are a few new things here and there, but for the most part they didn't change a thing, the color of the walls, the vintage chandelier, they even kept the small wooden table Walter built years ago.
"Wow..."
I slowly make my way to the living room and I can almost hear Walter sing to Tiffany. I hum the melody to the song as I open the door, the song he sang to comfort her, to make her smile: Edelweiss.
"It feels so weird," I say turning to Quincey and Orson behind me. "It's like it was just yesterday we were playing here with Tiffany and Walter."
"You can come by as often as you want," Orson says.
"Thanks."
"You're back already?" A young dark-haired boy enters the living room. "Why are you back so soon?"
"Quincey drove me home," Orson answers.
The boy looks at Quincey and greets him, they seem to know each other.
"What's the matter?" Orson asks concerned by the worried expression on the boy's face.
"Um...," the boy hesitates as he drops his bag on the sofa. "Something happened after you left this morning. Lily and Emily were playing and... Er... there was an accident..."
"Accident? Did someone get hurt?" Orson rushes to him.
"No, no. Nothing like that-" he finally notices my presence. "Who is this?"
"Ah, Shannon," Orson turns to me. "This is my brother James. James this is Shannon, Tiffany's friend."
"Really?" James says. "Nice to meet you."
"Same," I nod.
After another moment of hesitation, James finally leads us to the victim of the mysterious accident. He's not able to put it in words, so he decides to show it instead. The victim lays lifeless on the ground of the garage, shoved in a corner with no hope for revival.
"Oh my goodness," I gasp.
"What happened?" Quincey asks.
"We don't know which one of them did it," James says. "We were in a rush but mum had dressed the girls up so they were ready before us and were playing around in Orson's room. Then we heard a noise... It fell out the window and..." he looks at Orson. "Sorry."
"Are you OK?" Quincey taps Orson's back, but he doesn't respond.
"We didn't have the time to take care of it," James continues to explain. "Mum thought it would be best for you not to see it in this state. I tried to hurry to come back before you so I could-"
"It's fine," Orson interrupts him.
"Sorry," James repeats.
"It's no big deal," Orson walks towards it then bends to pick up bits and pieces of his guitar. "I wasn't using it anymore. I've not been able to play for a while. It became useless so this doesn't change anything."
His reaction disconcerts us. James looks at him like he's a stranger.
Is it that he's pretending not to care or he really doesn't care?
Even Quincey and I seemed more shocked than he was to see the guitar in that state. Orson's expression remained impassive, like he was emotionless. It's weird because I know he loves to play the guitar but now it looks like it means nothing to him.
"Thanks for stopping by," Orson follows us to the car once the remains of his guitar have been taken care of.
"Your sure you're OK?" Quincey asks.
"I'm perfectly fine," Orson forces a smile on his face. "See you tomorrow."
Quincey and I watch him go back into the house and I can no longer ignore his peculiar attitude. His indifference to losing something precious to him is quite disturbing.
Almost like a flash, the image of Tiffany intertwining her fingers around his neck before laying a kiss on his lips comes back to my mind. I denied the connection before, but it looks like there may be something.
Is that why? I wonder. He's been this way ever since she's been gone.
As we drive away, I try to count the days they may have spent together. I know they had just one class together but it doesn't take long to get attached to Tiffany. However, from what Quincey said, the house was sold in the beginning of summer. Tiffany would have stopped by for sure, she could have met Orson then.
No, no, I scrap that idea. I remember the day they met, why would they pretend not to know each other? Why would Tiffany do that?
Something is off, I analyse their scene again. Come to think of it, for someone she barely knew she was way too at ease with him. Very unlike her. She wouldn't just jump on him for no reason.
I feel like there's a missing piece. She didn't tell me about the house, maybe there are other things she didn't say.
Orson was nice to her, but he's nice to everybody. Tiffany is also nice to everybody. But the both of them... How did they interact with each other? I don't even know that much, I didn't pay attention. Tiffany did seem a little shy the day they met. I thought it was because of the way Quincey presented her but... What if there was really something between Orson and Tiffany? Then why wouldn't she tell me? Could it be-
"We're here," Quincey says as he parks the car in front of Lorenzo's. "Why are you so quiet?"
"Nothing."
"What is it? Tell me."
"Nothing really, I was just... thinking about Orson."
"Huh...," he utters removing his seat belt. "Thinking about Orson," he places his arm along the top of my seat, then leans over to remove my seat belt as well but he doesn't move away after it's done. "I don't really like the sound of that."
"Oh?" I act overly surprised as he looks at me with a side smile making me rediscover his deep blue eyes. "You don't like the sound of that?" He shakes his head and I giggle happy to feel the butterflies fly around again. "Is it just me or does it sound like someone's a little jealous?"
"Does it?"
"You tell me. Did I catch a glimpse of your jealousy Mr Mason?"
His smile turns into a grin then before I know it, he leans further and kisses my cheek.
"Yes," he says as I'm left speechless feeling my cheeks burn. "You're with me. Why are you thinking about another guy?"
What did he just... What did he do?
My mind goes completely blank. I know I was thinking about something. I'm sure it was important, but I have no recollection of what it was or who it concerned.
Quincey gets off the car without giving me time to recover. I stay stiff unable to move as I still feel his lips press on my cheek.
Calm down Shannon, I try to stabilize my breathing.You're an eighteen year old young lady, it was just a peck on the cheek. No big deal. Come on, calm down. Are you a baby?
My door opens but I'm barely aware of it until I hear his voice.
"Aren't you going to come out?" He says.
"Y-yes... I'm coming."