Hope pulls her stiff body upright, flicking on the lamp next to her bed. She glances down at the round, white-faced clock on her dresser. It is far too late for her to still be awake. At least, her father isn't home to here the soft ruffling of her sheets. In the otherwise silent house, the sound of her hand brushing her eyelids softly seems magnified.
She pulls her legs out of the bed, dropping down into her slippers. They were a Christmas gift from her mother years ago (her father has a habit of giving Hope gifts from both parents though one is long buried). The hardwood floors in her bedroom are too cold for her delicate feet. Hope tucks the blankets back into position, smoothing out the sheets carefully. Though she knows no one will see her messy bed, she can't help but keep the quilt pristine and the pillows fluffed to perfection. Her eyes turn to her closet, as she begins to eye up an outfit to wear.
Hope cracks the window open, leaning in close to the screen door. The wind outside is stronger than ever, strangling the warm room. She decides on a pair of black slacks, along with a raspberry windbreaker. She zips it up tight, glancing at herself in the mirror next to the door.
The weather is simply too volatile for only a jacket. Hope grabs a matching set of gloves and a scarf. Though she can fit the gloves in her pocket, she is forced to tie the scarf haphazardly around her waist. Carefully, she makes her way back to the screen window. She unhinges it, dragging it out of the window and on to the floor. She tucks the screen under her bed, before moving out of the window.
She sits on the ledge, her feet dangling an inch above the lower half of the roof. The brown shingles are in good condition, except for a single trail leading to the edge. Hope tips her weight downwards, tentatively placing the tips of her toes down. Slowly, she lets them rest against the roof, until she is sure the house is still sturdy enough to hold her entire weight.
Hope moves down, sitting on the roof. It is like this that she crawls like a crab towards the edge. She keeps a careful eye on her scarf, watching the bright flash of turquoise slither behind her, rather than beneath her. If she trips, she knows she'll fall. It happened once before, and that was hard to explain to her Dad. At least it had happened during the daytime. Tonight, she is alone.
Once she is at the edge of the roof, she stands. Her toes, in her black converse, hang over the eavestrough, her arms outstretched above her. She grabs the branch of the tree above her, wrapping her fists around it tightly. With one last look behind her, she pulls herself into the tree and begins to climb down from her second-storey bedroom.
~~~
Percy stabs her key into the lock, jamming the door open and storming through the main room. She kicks her bedroom door open and collapses on her bed. From beneath the kitchen table, Hades looks up at her. Percy watches him pull himself off the ground through the doorway. He trots over to her bed, his face inches from hers.
"Guess what bud?" She doesn't have the energy to reach up and touch him. Her voice is shushed by the thick comforter which covers her mouth. "Front of house didn't tip out tonight, and I got cut two hours late. Isn't that the best?"
Hades cocks his head to the side and whines. Percy rolls her eyes, pulling herself up out of bed. She kicks off her thick, smelling, non-slip shoes. Her nose crinkles at the pungent odour, already filling the small apartment. Unfortunately, she decides that if she doesn't fix this now, in the morning the superintendent will have to quarantine the whole building. Percy drags herself into the kitchen, puts the shoes in a plastic resealable bag, and puts the bag in her freezer.
"Hopefully that'll kill the smell, bud," she turns to look at him, slamming the kitchen drawer shut. "The new kid spilt milk in my shoes. Isn't that fantastic?"
Hades moves closer to her, his toenails clicking off the cheap linoleum with every step. She bends down in front of him, scratching him behind his ears.
"The pay has always been decent, but I think I'm going to strangle the manager if this keeps happening." Percy shakes her head at herself. "I'm going insane here. Like, I'm talking to you, Hades, as if you understand me."
Percy pulls herself up off the ground. She glances out the window along her back wall, looking out into the night sky of the town. Only a few buildings are still lit, and most of them are closest to her. She wishes she could see the stars. Be it light pollution or clouds rolling ahead from an incoming storm, Percy is trapped down here. The one benefit to her apartment, the ability to see the scenic streets of Hamilton, is meaningless so late at night.
Hamilton is a hole in the Earth. Her apartment is in downtown, closest to the lowest point in town although not quite. Though she is high up from the ground, she is not as high up as the rich people. The closer you get into the centre; the cheaper rent is.
Scratching at the door interrupts her thoughts. Percy looks over to Hades, who is whining on the welcome mat. Now, pulled abruptly out of her thoughts, Percy moves over to the door. She grabs the leash off the wall, leaning down and clipping it on to Hades.
"Let's go for a jog, Hades," she grins.
~~~
Her fingers are bleeding as she leans down in a booth near the back of the club. Lee attempts to bandage them with the bar's small first-aid kit. Some new-age-techno-dubstep-pop crap is blaring from the speakers above her, way too damn loudly. She can practically feel the table beneath her vibrating from the bass-heavy music.
"Hey there," some guy who thinks it's his business to butt into her sacred time after the set leans down over the booth in front of her. "Are you on later?"
Lee glances up at him for a second, before turning her attention down to her hands. This guy is some jock in a tank top showing off his thick arm muscles. Although Lee doesn't particularly care about the practicality of her own clothing, he looks ridiculous. It's late, and while the bar may be warm, she knows it must be frigid outside.
"Does it look like I'm playing more?" Lee looks up at him, a strand of hair falling in her face.
He pulls himself down into the booth in front of her. He leans in closer to her, causing her to recoil.
"Chill," he leans back. "I was just curious."
Lee rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to her finger. She peels off the back of the bandage, leaving the stick part free. She wraps it over the tip of her thumb. The pain has subsided and thankfully, Lee won't rip open the cut on her strings until, at the very earliest, tomorrow.
"Listen, did you happen to see a girl in here earlier?" The guy asks, leaning closer to her.
Lee flashes her hard eyes up at him, biting down on her lip. She hopes it starts bleeding, gushing blood everywhere and freaking this guy out. As of now, her icy glare and her scowl haven't put him off yet. She needs something to get him away.
"A girl?" Lee asks, widening her eyes. She pulls herself up from the booth, looking around. "I can see maybe a dozen from here."
The guy grabs her wrist, wrapping his hand around it tightly. Lee freezes, her hands balling tighter and tighter. The shithead pulls himself out of the booth, staring her down. He towers above her, but quickly let's go. Lee realizes she has grossly underestimated his intelligence.
"Get out of my bar," she spits, turning around to grab her equipment off the stage. She puts her guitar in its case but restrains herself from slamming it down. Though she brought her cheapest guitar tonight (knowing she would probably bleed on it and make a scene), Lee still isn't exactly trying to break it.
She walks back to the guy, grabbing her red leather jacket from the booth and tucking it under her arm. Lee expects him to confront her, but he just stares at her as she leaves the bar.
~~~
Wesley's knees are crunched tightly in a ball underneath him. He leans forward, peering down between the wooden bannister at his mothers arguing. To prevent him from being seen, he tucks his face down. As he tilts his head in, he prays that they aren't arguing about him this time.
"Listen, I don't think expansion is in our best interest right now," his Mama (or as he more often refers to her, Candice) whispers.
The other woman, Denice, frowns. Wesley can barely make her out, as she begins to take her hair down from its updo that she sported at work all day. Her arms hide her face from him. "It's now or never, baby. Penobscot is close enough too, so we could make it work."
"We only have one car!" Wesley has noticed that when Candice gets mad, her whisper gets scratchier from resisting the urge to shout.
Although he normally sides with Candice, he wants a new restaurant. If they expanded out to Penobscot, perhaps he could be the new manager there. Even more, he could live a town over, in his own house, and pay his own bills. Penobscot is smaller so rent is cheaper. The only downside is the crappy library.
"We will be able to afford a new car if we start a new restaurant," Denice counters.
Candice begins to pace, shaking her head. "Or, we could flop horrifically and lose the current car."
From years of skateboarding, Wesley's feet have grown nimble. He can do dozens of tricks and avoid all of the creaky steps of the stairs. He makes his way, carefully, across the padded carpet of the upstairs hallway and into his room. He shoves a small notebook on the desk in his pocket after he ensures a pen is held to it through the loop on the side. Moving out of his room, he grabs his skateboard from the doorway.
Wesley doesn't bother trying to keep quiet while walking down the stairs. Denice is shouting at Candice; the pair having moved into the kitchen. With the women distracted, Wesley is free to sneak the keys from the front door into his pocket, and he leaves.
With the door shut behind him, Wesley realises that he only has a grey hoodie to prevent him from the wind. It's not too bad now but blowing down the street on the skateboard will make him freeze. Fall is on the horizon, and with the sun buried below him, Wesley knows there are only colder days to come.
~~~
"You freaked the twins out today," Archie sits down on the edge of June's bed, leaning in closer to her. June turns away from him, burying her head under the sheets. Leave it to her brother to come into her bedroom in the middle of the night to raise a grievance.
"June," Archie tugs on her leg. June pulls herself upright, ripping herself from his grip. Archie raises his hands in defence. "Chill. What's gotten into you?"
June grabs a scrunchie off her night table and ties her hair up. She bites her lip, dissecting her brother. He's never been very protective of her, nor very assertive. Normally, Archie has been just there. April was the annoying one, always bossing June around and asking the girl to stop copying her, while August was the playful brother. Archie takes out the garbage and prepares meals and does the things in the house that are void of sentiment.
"You ever heard of a prank?" June counters, trying to smile. She hopes to relax her brother's tense shoulders.
August shakes his head back and forth. Sorry, Archie, she reminds herself. They look practically the same, except for the strawberry blonde hair on Archie's head, rather than August's bright red. Actually, Archie is the same age that August last was. June feels panic rise in her throat.
Archie's face tightens. "Why are you back in town?"
"I'm in between shoots," June tells the boy, rolling her eyes with a sweet smile. "They don't have the need for the stunt doubles' assistant in post-production."
Archie pulls himself up off the bed, turning away from the girl. He studies the walls, empty of anything that June had put up. June wonders if he thinks their mother's paintings are ugly too.
"You know, I read the news," Archie manages.
June pulls herself out of bed. She quickly makes her way towards her closet, pulling herself behind the room dividers. Hidden from her brother, she takes off her pajama shorts, changing into sweat pants instead. Next, she adds a sweater over her sports bra, zipping it up to just a few inches above her collar bone.
"You have to talk to us sometime, Juniper," Archie's voice is solid
June exits from behind the dividers to catch her brother rolling his eyes. She ignores him, pushing past him downstairs. He follows her down as she pulls on running shoes at the door.
"Listen, March," she almost feels bad for using his full name by the way he flinches, but June doesn't care. "I love you, but you are out of line."
"Don't try to trick me," he tells her. "I'm not August. You can't just come running back home whenever something bad happens. Do you think he would want that?"
"It doesn't matter what he wants," she snaps back. June shuts her eyes, standing up to face her brother. "I'll be back in an hour. Don't hold up."
~~~
Eden slams his football against the wall. His neighbour often works late, so he doesn't have to worry about bothering the superintendent again. Damn Liam and his loud mouth, and damn Michael and his rude demeanour, and damn the entire football team.
Although, not necessarily damn football. The jersey pays the bills, at least. Eden chooses to actively ignore that the comic shop, a job he may not enjoy entirely but he is actually good at. He even made an adjustment to how staff stocks shelves. Even though it only saves the Mom and Pop shop $2.50 a day, that adds up.
If only he could throw like he could do math, or just think generally. Perhaps, he wouldn't be awake so late at home, and instead awake this late at a party. Maybe even a bar, since apparently a couple don't request IDs.
Eden sits on the tiny loveseat in his room and crosses his legs. Each knee touches an armrest, but he doesn't mind. He places each hand on his knee and practices a breathing technique his Mom taught him in his last year of high school. Whenever he feels like the walls are closing in, he remembers his Mom's steady palms resting on the back of his hands. Unlike his best friend, he never really believed in any of that crystal healing, voodoo nonsense, but if it seemed to work for her and his Mom, it must be worth a try.
Then, he remembers the force of his Uncle (the high school football coach), giving him a blow to the head when he missed a throw during practice.
The football rests on the floor just in front of him.
Eden grabs his varsity jacket, and the football, and heads out the door. He leaves the building, heading to campus, which is just a block away. He passes by a bar on the way, peaking inside for just a second. A couple of his friends are sitting on the bar, dancing to some loud techno music.
Eden keeps moving on to campus. He walks between the old brick buildings, approaching the field. His fist tightens around the ball when he notices a bunch of drunk freshmen standing on it, throwing Frisbees (which Liam has informed Eden, is even gayer than soccer). Frustrated, Eden turns away.
There is only one other spot he can think of nearby where he can practice his throw. Unless it starts pouring, he should be fine.
~~~
It is not often that Cara wishes she were a worse person, but she does tonight. She wishes that she had told her Baba to straight up murder the birds in the ceiling since they are chirping incessantly. It wasn't so bad when she had earbuds in, listening to the Nutcracker theme on repeat (listening to classical music repeatedly can increase concentration) but once they were off and her teeth brushed, Cara realized those birds would not stop.
So, in the middle of the night, Cara puts on her jacket at the door and grabs her Baba's keys. She moves into the driveway, starting up the car. Though this is technically a high-jacking, Cara assumes her Baba would be proud of her. After all, this is the kind of high-jinx he and her Dad both got up to in college.
Cara gets in the car and drives away from her house. She rolls down the car windows, and the wind rushes in. Her hair blows into her face, wildly flying around the car. Quickly, Cara rolls back up the window until it is open just a crack. The streets are empty, so she lets herself speed. Only 5mph over, but its more than she has ever done before.
Once she has driven to downtown, Cara parallel parks the car outside her favourite café. She leaves the car, clicking the fob to lock it, and looks into her home-away-from-home.
The doors are shut, and the lights are off. She approaches the sign on the door which proclaims the hours of operation. It's been closed for hours.
Cara leans against the glass door, tipping her head back. Her black peacoat hardly protects her from the frigid air. Cara glances across the street into the park, the heart of town. Normally, Barnaby kids crowd into the dense forest during the first week of classes and have bush parties. Now that a bunch of bars have stopped requiring ID, the park is empty. From what her dads tell her, the cops figure that it is better to have drunk kids in a controlled space than in a forest.
Although, he could just be trying to justify the Hamilton constabulary's incompetence. It's not like the town needs a skilled police force, anyway. The worst thing that happens here is the rich kids drunk driving, or the occasional break and entering.
Cara decides that a walk through the park should be nice, even if it is late. Tonight, Cara is feeling rebellious. She makes a promise to her Baba that she will go wherever the wind carries her.
~~~
"Kyle!" Jamie shouts, trapped in a crowd in the last bar in town which is open this late. He knows it's futile since has been tweaking all day, then he's definitely crashed by now. At the very least, Kyle won't be responsive to his name, especially not in a noisy bar playing trap.
Jamie is happy he doesn't work here. It's too claustrophobic, and the music is too heavy. He continues to circle the crowd, checking not just the faces of strangers but the ground as well, for an unconscious person who might be underneath someone's feet.
If Kyle was here, he is gone now. The bar is closing soon anyway, probably within the next half an hour. Jamie doesn't understand how anyone else is up this late on a Wednesday. He would be just getting home, collapsing on to his bed in his work uniform, and sleeping until morning, if he had any choice but to comb the dark streets of Hamilton.
Jamie heads back outside. It's cold enough that he can see his breath if he strains his eyes. The only light which blesses the Earth comes from a lonely street light above him. Jamie shoves his hands in his corduroy jacket. He wipes his chin against the fleece lining, praying it will warm him.
"Kyle," Jamie doesn't attempt to shout this time, his voice growing quiet. Perhaps, Kyle is back at the apartment. Perhaps his phone is dead, and that is why he it has been hours since Kyle has tried to get in contact with Jamie.
Jamie pulls out his phone, just in case.
I'm not mad, I promise. I just want to help you. Please text me back.
Jamie has so many more words to say, but he knows they won't help. That's why, when his finger hovers over the screen ready to call Kyle, he chooses instead to tuck his phone in his pocket. After all, Jamie can feel his lips tumbling, ready to ramble. He can feel panic in his throat.
He glances across the street, jaywalking. It's too late for a car to hit him. If one did, Jamie probably wouldn't even be that angry. Now, there is only one place left for Jamie to check. Since Kyle isn't in any of the alleys or the bars or on campus, and since he doesn't really have any friends, he could really only be in one place.
Kyle's old drug dealer meets clientele in the park. Though he hopes this is just some crazy misunderstanding, Jamie knows he must go comb through the dark trees for his friend.
~~~
"Next time, don't steal my television before finishing your homework," Erik can barely hear his Dad's voice. After all, his ears are ringing. Even if they weren't, Erik is sure that the blood pumping in and out of his body would drown out his Dad.
Once he hears his Dad step out of the room, and his feet move down the creaking stairs, Erik pulls himself up off the ground. He spits out blood on to his grey carpet. God, he feels like he is drowning. His head is pounding too.
For a while, Erik sits on his knees, his head hanging in front of him. He doesn't bother to pinch his nose, instead letting the metallic taste of blood run down the back of his throat and pool in his mouth. He raises the back of his hand to his mouth, smearing blood across his face.
Erik gets up, tossing his head to the side so that his bleach blonde curls out of his face. Downstairs, he hears the tv click on. For some reason, his Dad is still up. That is going to make the next hour more difficult than it needs to be.
Pressing himself up against the wall, Erik slips out of the room. He doesn't care to raise his feet off the ground, fearing the sound of his own footsteps. He slides into the bathroom, facing his own reflection.
There is nothing new about it. Erik decides there is no use dwelling on his face in the harsh light. He is forced to analyze himself, which he attempts as mechanically as possible. His nose is swelling, and the area under his eyes is red. However, there is no more pain than usual, so his nose probably doesn't have another break.
Which is at least consistent with the google search Erik had done at school. Immediately after a bone heals, it is harder to break. Over time, this strength will diminish. Erik just hopes it lasts for the rest of senior year.
Erik reaches into the cabinet above him, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen. He takes three pills, two more than are recommended, and downs them. Next, he moves to the toilet and wipes his face clean of blood. He ends up using half a roll, although he hopes his father will end up too drunk to notice. Finally, Erik takes his extra toothbrush and brushes his teeth with simply water. The bristles are already stained pink, so they won't be ruined.
Next, he makes his way downstairs. His father glances up at the boy from the television, sneering. "Off to go sell drugs, punk? Do I need to search your damn room?"
"I'm going to look for Amelia," Erik looks at his Dad over his shoulder, waiting for his Dad to react. He grabs on to the umbrella with his tight fist. If he gets up, Erik will have the upper hand this time.
"Good luck, dipshit," Erik's Dad turns back to the television.
Erik lets go and slams the door behind him.
~~~
After two hours of waiting for "Bike Boy" to show up in the bar, Thea decides to pay her bill and leave. She has racked up quite the tab over time, unfortunately, but she still is able to maintain her balance when she pulls herself away from the high-top table.
She doesn't bother to text Keisha, since Keisha undoubtedly is still enjoying Freddie. Thea tries to pull herself through the crowd, ignoring the bodies which crowd around. The musician is still singing her last song, and while Thea enjoyed the set, she would have much rather enjoyed the night with a friend. Anyway, Thea is probably the only legal person in this bar.
Thea forces herself out the door, bracing for the cold. She realizes it isn't too bad. There is a fire burning in her chest from a few gin and tonics too many. In her head, Thea attempts to do the math of her BAC, but even sober, math isn't her strong suit. Having four drinks over two hours is enough to make her tipsy, but not quite enough to make her start slurring her words. Though it is late, Thea can feel her body filling with energy.
She is definitely going to be late to work tomorrow, although that doesn't make her as mad as she expects it too. If she wasn't so content with her job, she would just skip out on the day. That way, she won't have to face Brandon in her humiliation.
While she is walking down the street, Thea spots a black cat. She slows down, walking slowly up to it. The cat stills when she kneels down and begins to pet it.
"Hey there," Thea fumbles with the collar, trying to get a glimpse at the tag. It's orange, and she read online that an orange collar means an indoor cat. You know, like a convict escaped from prison.
The cat darts away from Thea before she catches the address. "Shit."
Her feet steadier underneath her than before, the cold air sobering her a bit and the wild energy of college students evaporated, Thea begins to follow the cat. It ducks into a nearby park, and so does she.
~~~~~
Awesome! I'm so excited to continue this! Let me know what you think in the comments, and as always, please correct me on any mistakes!
I'll see you soon!