Chapter Text
Erin and Jillian had been drawing to each other since they were three, and although they didn’t write to each other until they were 5, when Jillian’s parents had died, Erin felt like she knew Jillian as well as she knew herself.
Now they were older, most people their age had some level of communication with their soulmate, but not many people were as close as them. Not only had they known each other longer than most, but they were also each other’s closest friend. Erin only really had one friend other than Jillian, and that was Abby.
She had met Abby when she had moved into Erin’s neighborhood a few years ago. They had bonded over a love of science, and Abby’s confidence helped Erin, who had become increasingly shy and quiet as she got older.
Jillian didn’t have any other friends, but she felt content by herself, and Erin was always there for her, so she didn’t feel much of a need for any other kind of friend. Jillian had settled in well with her aunt and uncle, she missed her parents a little, but she had gotten used to the way things were and they worked out nicely for everyone.
That is, it was working out nicely for everyone, until her aunt and uncle died. It was the last thing anyone expected, they were both fairly young, healthy people, and always careful after what had happened to Jillian’s parents.
Just not quite careful enough.
Jillian was at school when she was called to the principal's office. When she entered a tall woman dressed in a smart suit who Jillian didn’t recognise was standing beside the desk. Jillian slowly pulled down her yellow-tinted glasses and looked over the top of them, as if to question what was going on, and why she had been called to the office.
“Hello Jillian, please, take a seat.” The principal sounded a little more welcoming than usual, but Jillian sat down on the chair anyway, slumping forwards onto the desk, resting her chin on her hands.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news,” The tall woman began to speak but the principle raised his hand to stop the woman, continuing himself.
“There’s no gentle way to say this,” He let out a long sigh “I’m afraid your aunt and uncle have passed away.” Jillian sat motionless, a tear fell onto her cheek, and she felt a lump in her throat. The principal continued.
“This is Mrs Gorin, she’s a social worker and she’s going to explain what will happen next.” Jillian was still in shock, and could only just manage a slight nod. She stared forwards, she saw Mrs Gorin switch places with the principal and begin to explain to Jillian what would happen to her.
Jillian waited until Mrs Gorin finished speaking before asking if she could go to the bathroom. Mrs Gorin nodded and told her to take as long as she liked. Jillian nodded, and it took all her strength to not run at full speed out of the room, and as soon as she stepped out into the corridor she darted towards the bathroom, locking herself in a cubicle, pulling down the lid and sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. She pulled up her sleeve and grabbed her pen from the pocket of her dungarees.
‘Help’
Jillian wrote it on the back of her right hand, and Erin saw it almost instantly.
‘What’s happened’
‘My aunt and uncle have died’ Jillian was fully sobbing now and when she lifted her hand to wipe her tears, she smudged the ink where she had just written.
Erin felt a lump in her throat, how was this fair. Jillian had already been through this before, she didn’t deserve to go through it once, let alone twice. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she settled on the most comforting thing she could find.
‘It’ll be okay.’ She wasn’t sure what else to say, so she drew a messy spiral and waited for Jillian’s reply. Jillian added a little to the spiral, but she did it slowly and her lines were jittery and smudged by her tears after a few minutes she decided she had to leave, and go back to the principal and Mrs Gorin.
‘Thank you. I have to go now.’ Jillian put her pen back in her pocket and left the toilets, returning to Mrs Gorin.
Once she had sat back down again, Mrs Gorin began to continue explaining what they were going to do.
“...and after that you’ll be placed in a temporary foster home. Is there anything you want to ask me?” Jillian shook her head. “Okay, we have all your bags ready, is there anyone here you’d like to see before we leave?” Jillian shook her head again, she hadn’t really made any friends at school, Erin kept her company most of the time anyway, and she wasn’t much like the other children in her class. “Okay, well, if you’re sure there’s no one you’d like to see, we better be heading off.” Jillian nodded her head and got up from the chair, following Mrs Gorin as she left the office.
--
After that, Jillian was constantly being moved from foster home to foster home, she had been to a good few schools, and had given up trying to remember names and make friends. The only person she ever really saw on a regular basis was Mrs Gorin. She both dreaded and hoped for the days she would see Mrs Gorin’s car park outside wherever she was staying; dreading yet another tiresome move, but enjoying the presence of a familiar face.
Erin and Jillian would share notes and doodles pretty much constantly, and Erin had become accustomed to comforting Jillian after each move, doodling away until one of them fell asleep.
As time went on their diagrams and equations became more and more elaborate, each of them finding their own ways of discovering new ideas and complex theories. Erin often asked her dad to teach her more about what she learnt at school, and avidly worked her way through the ever growing collection of books that filled the bookshelves around the house. Jillian, on the other hand, found refuge in libraries. She loved old libraries, the ones with great stone structures and elaborate carvings, whenever she found a particularly beautiful library she would draw tiny details of it on her arm for Erin to find, taking care in drawing the perfect angles and sloping curves.
But most of the time had to settle with smaller, far less grand libraries, the ones found in small towns run by kind old ladies wishing to spend their time helping the small communities. It was here where Jillian was most often found, tucked away in a corner, head in a book, finding out about anything she could. Since her aunt and uncle's death her knowledge had grown by double; taking in and storing new information each day was natural to her, and she enjoyed to routine and comfort of it all.
It was after a particularly long journey spent travelling to another foster home when she explained in full detail her love for libraries.
‘But why would you go to the library when you could just read the books you have?’
‘I don’t have any books.’
‘What! You must have some at least?!’
‘Nope, sometimes foster parents will have some but they’re never very interesting, they’re all about fairies and princesses and boring thing, so I go to the library instead.’
‘That’s sad.’
‘I guess…’
--
Two weeks later Jillian sat at the table eating breakfast with her current foster parents. They were nice people, and they were always kind to Jillian, too kind sometimes, but she knew they meant well. Her foster mum shuffled through the post, putting aside letters as she read them.
“Oh! Jillian, there’s something for you here!” Jillian looked up, startled, she had never gotten post before, she never made any friends so she didn’t have anyone to write to her.
Or so she had thought.
She leaned forwards, taking the parcel from her foster mum and placing it on the table in front of her. It was heavy, and large in size too. It was wrapped in wrapping paper covered in little numbers and beakers she saw scientists use in pictures. She carefully unwrapped it, noticing it had been sent to the people who moved her around to different homes, but addressed to her name. She pulled the packaging away to reveal five books, each a different size, and a note. She recognised the handwriting instantly.
--
To Jillian,
I didn’t think it was right that you don’t have any books of your own, so I told my Dad and he took me to the big bookstore in the city. I picked out the most interesting books i could find and then we got some paper too so it would look nice when you got the books in the post. I didn’t want you to have to leave them behind, so I chose a bag you can put them in when you have to move. Dad said that he wrote to the foster people to get it sent to you, so I hope it arrives okay.
Lots of love, Erin xxxxx
--
She turned over the note and found that on the back Erin had drawn a large spiral, and the list of numbers beside it. Jillian couldn't help but, grinning with joy, she quickly explained to her foster parents who it was from, before excusing herself to go and read them in her room.
As soon as she reached her room, she carefully placed her books, bag, and note on the bed. She took out the pen from her pocket and wrote Erin a scribbled note.
‘Thank you for my books and bag! They’re wonderful, I’m going to start reading one now!’
She paused for a second, glancing at the note Erin had sent with the books.
‘Lots of love, Jillian xxxxx’