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Cyrus sits in Austin’s backyard and looks up at the stars. In one hand, he holds his cell phone. In the other hand, he holds his dad’s lighter. The wind gusts occasionally, Cyrus holds tighter to his hand me down wool blanket.
His nana had about a dozen of them in different parts of her house. When Cyrus was three, he got to choose a blanket that would always be in his room when he visited. He picked the blanket with the softest orange and sky blue as the main colors. Cyrus remembers his mom’s rare smile at the choice. She had said it reminded her of the sunrise on the ocean. His nana had just shook her head and muttered, “There’s a reason I call him Sunny.”
Cyrus holds it closer now, because it was the last thing he was able to grab from his nana’s house. The irony of living there full time since the age of nine and still not seeing it as his house does not escape Cyrus. It doesn’t matter now. There’s no house to go back to.
His nana fell asleep around an hour ago, but she was inconsolable for almost three. Cyrus gets why though. He has a lighter for his dad. She had that house for her son and husband. Most of her keepsakes were split between her closet and the attic. There wasn’t enough time or people to grab anything from the attic.
If he had just been at home instead of at The Inferno, they would have stuff from the attic. They would have more than four wool blankets. They would have been able to grab the firepit from the backyard. There’s probably a shit ton they would have now that they don’t that Cyrus isn’t aware because he doesn’t know what was packed. He’s saving a sort through of what they have for tomorrow, along with a potential trip to the thrift store.
There was this pull though. Almost as if Cyrus needed to listen to music and dance more than he needed anything else. He gets like that sometimes when the wildfires start to get under control. His nana knows, and says everyone has their own way of dealing with built up adrenaline and stress.
Then everything happened with Harlan, and Cyrus felt like that unknowingly was the real pull. It sounds fucking crazy, but ever since the police station, they’ve been orbiting closer to each other. Tonight they collided, and it was the best two hours Cyrus has had in a long time. It wasn’t just the shotgunning or the make out that followed, it was having Harlan see him instead of through him.
Of course, that’s probably never going to happen again. Cyrus was pissed at Austin, but he understands why he did it. He almost wishes Austin had been an asshole earlier, then Cyrus would at least have some idea of what was left behind in his room.
Cyrus looks at the time, about 3:30, and decides to give his mom one last try for the night. She’s somewhere around Florida, so she should be awake by now. Cyrus clicks to call her and grips his lighter. “Please pick up.”
The phone rings four times before Cyrus is directed to voicemail. He sighs and hangs up. Why did he expect anything different from his mom?
Line Break
Unlike most of the population, Cyrus always knows when he’s dreaming. He doesn’t use the clock trick or try to read anything, he just knows. However, Cyrus wouldn’t consider it lucid dreaming, that’s when you can do whatever you want in your dreams.
Cyrus has never had any control over his dreams.
He’s forced to relive the last five minutes Cyrus spent in The Inferno. That transitions into trying to save everything he can from his home and coming up short.
Then Cyrus is sitting in a chair with a phone in his hand. In front of him, behind a wall of glass and holding her own phone is his mother.
She blinks twice and frowns. “That’s kind of you wanting to help a friend, but I’m here for you Cyrus. I’m not putting either of us at risk to clear your friend of a murder charge.”
Internally, Cyrus is trying to figure out which of his friends got arrested for murder when Cyrus is the only one to ever get in physical fights. He wants to ask his mom what she’s talking about, but that’s not what comes out. “I’m not leaving him alone here for something he didn’t do. You either get both of us out or go back to ignoring me every single time I need your help.” Damn, guess she doesn’t get back to him about the house situation.
His mom glares at him for being difficult. “I love you Cyrus, but I don’t love you enough to help anyone in that family for nothing in return.”
Austin is safe in whatever this dream is. Cyrus’s mom cares about the Kirks more than she cares about his nana. He doesn’t have any other close guy friends he would stand up to his mom for. Maybe he made a friend wherever he is in this weird dream.
Cyrus opens his mouth and he’s curious to hear what will come out. “I’ll make it up to you. I will do anything as long as you make sure the charges are dropped and they can’t pin any of the other bodies on him either.” She looks as shocked by this declaration as Cyrus feels. “Mom, I swear, whatever you come up with, I’ll fucking do it. I promise I will, but you have to hold up your end of the deal.”
Mom lets out a whistle and smirks at Cyrus. Something seems off in her eyes, like his mom is actually present. “I am always true to my word.” She stands up and puts her hand against the glass. Cyrus reaches his free hand up to match hers. A strange tingly feeling passes through his fingertips, down his arm, and stops over his heart.
Then Cyrus wakes up on the lower bunk in Austin’s room. There’s no sign of Austin and the sun looks higher than it should be before eight in the morning. Cyrus checks his phone. It’s after nine, and he has a text from Susan, Austin’s mom, to come down and sort through everything when he wakes up.
Well, this is going to be an interesting day. Hopefully Susan does him a solid and helps his nana with the insurance company.
Line Break
By the time Austin finally gets back from school, Cyrus is emotionally tired. It took hours to make a list of what was saved from the fire. Then Susan helped them make a list of items that were not saved that they would need to worry about. This was partially for insurance purposes and partially a far out shopping list for when they could hopefully move back in. Most of the list was furniture and electronics: kitchen aid, dining table set, washer, dryer, couch, etc.
Since Cyrus only got to do one grab of stuff from his room, Susan asked him to make a list of what he would need now. Thankfully, his nana had made his soccer and school stuff her first priority. This meant his laptop, gloves, and school books he would get fined for were safe. However, since Cyrus had some stuff at Austin’s house, that and one bag of clothing was the extent the two maternal figures saved.
He tried to keep the list short, but that went out the window when he started getting into what clothes were saved. Most of it was underwear and socks. Besides that, there was a pair of sneakers, dress shoes, one pair of jeans, a black button up shirt, three tee shirts, his favorite hoodie, a raincoat, and his warm up jacket. Cyrus cross referenced that with what he had in Austin’s room. That rounded up to swim trunks, flip flops, 2 pairs of shorts, and a sweatshirt. In layman’s terms, Cyrus needed clothes badly.
Susan suggested he go out to a thrift store or Walmart when Austin got home. Cyrus had simply nodded as he processed that he had no sweatpants to his name.
After that, Cyrus spent almost two hours he’ll never get back helping nana find all the insurance information. Then relaying said information to his nana and Susan when they’re talking to a rep over the phone. Thankfully, that ended right before Austin was supposed to get home, so Cyrus could sit outside waiting with his shopping list.
However, Austin pulls in the driveway fifteen fucking minutes late. His best friend doesn’t even have time to get out of the car before Cyrus has jumped in the passenger seat. Austin raises an eyebrow and restarts the car. “You good bro?”
Cyrus groans in frustration and leans back in the seat. “Austin, I don’t have enough fucking clothes.” Cyrus turns to look at the driver side. “They saved fucking dress shoes but not a single pair of sweatpants or a tank top!”
Austin hums as he starts to back out. “We can go to the big Salvation Army thrift store then hit up Walmart.”
Cyrus nods and relaxes. “Thanks Austin.” Cyrus then makes sure Austin is playing a good, non depressing playlist. It’s a mixed bag. It exceeds the vibes Cyrus has had most of the day.
Austin taps his fingers to the music and waits until his favorite part of the song is done before speaking. “So Cyrus, I was wondering ..”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want to get to know Harlan? Like either as a friend or more?”
Cyrus narrows his eyes at Austin. “You never start conversations about guys I like.” A sudden feeling of dread hits Cyrus. “Austin, please tell me you and Harlan didn’t get in a fight today.”
Austin hums in consideration before he realizes that’s stressing Cyrus out. “Surprisingly, we did not.” Austin chuckles. “We actually apologized to each other.”
Okay, that’s suspicious as fuck. “That’s great. Did the CIA track you down or the weird monster show you what hell looks like?”
Austin scowls and doesn’t try to beat the yellow light. “Don’t joke about that creature! It’s fucking killed people and I hope to never see it again.”
Cyrus crosses his arms. “Sorry, I won’t joke about it again, but seriously you’re acting differently.”
Austin sighs. “Cyrus, just answer my fucking question.”
Cyrus takes a second to think back to before shit hit the fan. Harlan and Cyrus had danced together as they waited for the firetruck to be open. It had been the first time Cyrus had actually danced in the middle on purpose. Harlan had laughed at that and told Cyrus that “he wasn’t going to get crushed or pushed into random people”. Of course, Cyrus did end up getting pushed into Harlan once, called him a rando, and the pair burst out laughing.
The firetruck was fucking amazing. Cyrus got to make out with Harlan for over an hour. He also had a great high for most of the time. However, the best parts were the minutes they would catch their breath and start the most random conversations. Some were about music, others the people around them, and the rest random thoughts since weed took away both of their filters.
For whatever reason, Cyrus and Harlan clicked. In any normal circumstance, Cyrus would have asked for Harlan’s number. He normally would have asked if they could meet up again, on a date, and see where things go. Things go well, Cyrus has a boyfriend by Christmas. Things fizzle, Cyrus makes sure they part on good terms even if they don’t talk anymore.
Nothing about the past few days has been normal.
Cyrus watches the red light change to green. “Austin, it doesn’t matter what I want.”
Austin gives him a brief side eye. “Really?” When Cyrus doesn’t respond, Austin scowls at the traffic in front of them. “What about the ‘moments’ you two had?” Cyrus crosses his arms and tries not to question why his best friend is bringing up something he doesn’t believe as evidence. “Better yet, what about the fact Harlan asked me if you and Nana Nix were okay?”
Cyrus's head whips to look at Austin. “Harlan did that?” Austin nods. Cyrus tries to keep his emotions contained. “That’s the right thing to do though, make sure people are okay.”
Austin snorts. “Sure, but that’s not why Briggs did it. For some reason, he cares about what happens to you.”
Cyrus feels a smile subconsciously form on his face. He can see so many snippets from daydreams go through his head. Harlan checking in on him at the club. Harlan giving him a jacket or flannel. Harlan texting him after a rough game.
Cyrus shakes his head and grounds himself back to Austin’s car. “Why are you telling me this? You’ve been trying to talk me out of my crush ever since you got a name.”
Austin sighs. “Because he has no emotional intelligence when it comes to relationships.”
“See, this is something you would normally say.”
“Cyrus, this isn’t me making a dig. Harlan Briggs isn’t great with his emotions and he doesn’t understand the finer points of friendship.” Austin taps his fingers and turns into the Walmart parking lot. “That guy doesn’t understand why he cares about you, but he does. That means the ball is in your court, because Briggs is not figuring out the extent of his emotions without help.”
Cyrus smiles as a sense of hope and possibility fills him. “Austin,” it takes Cyrus a moment to figure what he wants to say, “I’m so fucking thankful you’re my best friend.”
Austin parks the car. “Same, and don’t you forget it.”