Chapter Text
When Exer is eight, he meets a boy at AstroBlast Arcade.
It’s a warm summer day in early August, a few weeks before the beginning of his fourth grade year. The air outside is sticky and hot, the kind of weather that means swimming and ice cream, or air conditioning and shade. He would go biking, but his dad says he’s too big for his old bike, and he has to wait for his birthday to get a new one. He can’t go swimming because his swim trunks are in the wash, and he can’t get ice cream because his dad told him not to spend all his allowance on sweets. He knows that, though. Only little kids would do something as silly as blow all their money on candy.
He’s gonna be nine soon, and that means he’s a big kid now.
He’s almost nine but not quite, stuck in that weird place of being almost something. His birthday is in ten days, and he’s got a clear button that says “Birthday Boy! ” in bright multicolor lettering with rainbow confetti inside that he picked out from the store with his dad set on top of his dresser. He can’t wait to wear it, or his special birthday shirt. It’s got a black cat coming out of a cake on the front, and it’s the best shirt ever. His dad says he can’t wear either one until his birthday, but he knows that! He’s just excited .
He’d told his dad as much, and he’d just ruffled his hair and pressed ten dollars into Exer’s palm with a laugh, telling him to go find something to do and to be safe. Exer had smiled wide, taking the ten dollars and stuffing them in the pocket of his cargo shorts before bolting out the door. Of course he’d be safe! He’s almost nine, and that’s why his dad trusts him so much. Because Exer’s a big kid, a good kid, everyone always says so.
But what his dad doesn’t know is that he’s also a magic kid.
He doesn’t really know how it started, the magic part, but he just kind of rolls with it. He’s never had to learn, and it’s not that hard. Exer just wants something, and it happens. He hasn’t told his dad yet because he knows it’s not really normal , and besides, secrets are so much cooler when they’re magical. Even so, it doesn’t feel very fair that he has superpowers somehow, especially since he knows from his dad’s job that there are people out there who could use something like his magic a lot more than he can, so he mostly saves it for special occasions and rescuing stray cats when they get a little bit too close to the road, or for when his dad’s at work and his action figures would be so much cooler if they could actually move.
Sometimes, though, like today, he uses his magic just because he can.
It’s a constant thrumming under his skin, a warmth that pools at his fingertips and can be released with the simplest of thoughts. He uses it now as he zips down the street, pouring magic into his feet and moving just the tiniest bit faster than can be considered normal. His sneakers pound the pavement as he takes the familiar route to the arcade, leaving behind a trail of green sparkles behind him that he knows only he can see. He makes it there quickly, skidding to a stop in front of the glass doors so hard that he very nearly faceplants into the concrete.
He pauses in front of the doors to catch his breath, reaching into his pocket to thumb over the edge of the ten dollar bill his dad had given him. He sends a little bit of magic through his fingertips, and then there are two ten dollar bills in his pocket, because what’s the point of being a magic kid if he doesn’t have a little fun with it?
He smiles wide, hand closing over the money as he pushes through the doors and into an eight-year-old’s equivalent of paradise, which smells heavily of fried food and a little like old carpeting.
The counter at the front is a couple inches taller than he is, but he still manages to trade one of the ten dollar bills for a bunch of rolls of quarters, keeping the other securely in the pocket of his cargo shorts. He’ll need it later, because AstroBlast arcade has the best nachos. Ever. He’d had them for the first time a couple years ago, and they are absolutely life-changing , and he will fight anyone who tells him that they’re nothing more than tortilla chips with fake cheese and arguably unhealthy toppings, because they are more than that. They’re the best. Ever.
Anyway, he gets the quarters from the nice lady with the poofy hair, and she calls him a cutie. He gives her a big smile before he runs off into the depths of flashing and beeping machines, with a roll of quarters in his hand and all the confidence of an eight-year-old with money. He grabs a plastic bucket for his tickets, dropping his quarters inside before breaking into a run. His shoes catch on the funkily-patterned carpet, and he nearly runs into several teenagers and various adults, but he knows exactly where he’s going and a few near-concussions won’t stop him, no-siree.
He comes to a stop in front of the Skee-Ball machine and grins, fishing out a roll of quarters and tearing it open. He feeds a couple into the machine and then presses the big button on the side, grinning as the white plastic balls roll into his reach. He picks one up, does a couple practice swings, and then tosses it deftly into the 100-point hole.
Along with the next eight.
Exer grins, letting the magic fade from his fingertips as the tickets come churning out of the machine. As they fold over onto the ground, he goes to the machine beside it, slotting a couple quarters into that one so he can play another round while his tickets dispense. This time, he doesn’t use any magic, but the majority of the balls still go into the 100-point holes, and the rest he manages to sink into at least the 40-point hole. Exer might cheat sometimes, but he always makes sure he’s really good on his own before he uses any kind of magic to help him along. He can’t really say why, but it makes him feel less guilty for using his magic sometimes if he works really, really hard all the other times.
The smile fades from Exer’s face slightly, and he yanks the tickets from the first Skee-Ball machine and stuffs them in his red bucket. He wishes that more people were like him, otherwise he wouldn’t have to come up with all these weird rules for himself. After all, some people are just naturally super pretty, like his dad says his mommy was, and nobody says that they’re cheating. But for Exer, even though the magic is a part of him just like the counter lady’s pretty hair, using it still comes with a tiny feeling of wrongness sometimes, like other people would yell at him if they found out about it. It’s not fair.
He shakes his head, snatching his tickets from the second Skee-Ball machine and stuffing them in the bucket with his other tickets. He glances around, eyes catching on an available Pac-Man machine. He races over to it, quickly forgetting all of his previous thoughts as he makes the big yellow circle run away from multicolor ghosts and chomp on fruit. It’s fun, and easy, and the magic stays under his skin, not a single green sparkle slipping out from his fingertips.
He gets bored after a couple rounds, and he spends the next half hour bouncing from console to console, red bucket overflowing with tickets. At some point, his bucket becomes so full that he physically can’t fit anything else into it, so he decides to find somewhere to sit and reorganize it so that he can fit at least a few more games in before he has to go through the painstaking process of getting them counted at the arcade counter. He scans his surroundings, squinting through the dimmed lights in search of a corner or a bench when he locks eyes with something, or rather someone, that makes him pause.
There’s a boy tucked into the darkened corner by the claw machines, and he’s got the bluest eyes Exer has ever seen.
He blinks, and the blue eyes blink back. Exer takes a step forward and the boy shrinks further into the wall, blue eyes vanishing behind blond hair as he looks down at his knees. Exer takes another step, and when the boy doesn’t move, he starts to walk towards him. The boy doesn’t look up again until Exer is right in front of him, and even then it’s only a quick glance before he goes back to staring at the carpet. Now that Exer’s closer, he can see the shaking of his shoulders and hear the sniffles that the blond is clearly trying to keep quiet.
Exer crouches down and the boy shuffles away, his back pressed as tightly against the wall as it can go. Exer reaches out awkwardly with a hand, like one would do if they were waiting for a stray cat to sniff their fingers. The boy simply stares at his hand, but Exer doesn’t back down, settling down on his knees and keeping his hand aloft. Neither of them speak, the only sounds between them the chatter of strangers in the background and the noise of the machines.
Exer breaks the silence first because clearly the other boy won’t, speaking in a tone similar to the one he uses when talking to the little kids in the lobby of his dad’s therapy office on days his dad brings him to work because Exer doesn’t want to stay home alone. “Hi.”
The blond blinks at him with his bright blue eyes, and then responds in a voice thick with tears and cracking from disuse, “Hi."
Exer gives him a bright grin. They’re getting somewhere! “I’m Exer! What’s your name?”
The boy blinks at him again, and Exer can’t tell if it’s out of confusion or to push back tears. He looks down and mumbles something into his arm that Exer can’t quite make out over the tinny music of the claw machine next to them. He drops his awkwardly suspended hand and scoots a little closer until he’s on his knees directly in front of him. “What?”
“David.” The boy –David– says a little louder, and Exer gives him an encouraging smile.
“Hi David!” He says, and David gives him the smallest of smiles in return. He’s got blue braces on his top teeth, and one of his middle teeth on the bottom is missing, but Exer thinks it’s a very nice smile.
“Hi, Exer.” David replies, and then scrunches his nose up slightly. “Is that how you say it? Exer?”
Exer nods, “Yup! You got it right first try!”
David smiles again, and Exer immediately decides that he and this boy are gonna be best friends because he has the sunniest smile ever and eyes bluer than the sky, and Exer needs to have that in his life forever and or he might…
Well, he doesn't know, but it'd suck probably.
Exer frowns as he remembers the state he’d found David in, teary-eyed and afraid. He leans forward slightly, voice full of concern as he asks, “Why are you hiding?”
His new friend shrugs, and tears start to gather in his eyelashes again.
Exer leans forward a little more, switching back to his stray puppy tone. “Are your parents here?”
This is apparently not the right question to ask, because as soon as the word ‘ parents ’ falls from Exer’s mouth David recoils, tucking back into himself as he starts to cry again. “N-no, they were yelling, and then Daddy threw a book at Mommy and Mommy said to go have fun at the arcade while she talked to Daddy, but I don’t wanna have fun because– because what if Daddy gets really mad?”
Exer’s heart drops, but the boy continues, his words broken up by hiccups and the occasional sniffle. “I wanna go home, but Mommy said she’d come get me and not to go back yet, but I don’t wanna play games! I wanna go home but I can’t because Daddy’s angry!”
“I’m sorry,” Exer whispers, because he doesn’t know what else to say. His dad has never yelled, and he can’t imagine how scary it would be if he did.
David shakes his head, burying his face in his hands as he repeats quietly, “I just wanna go home.”
Exer opens his mouth and then closes it again, because there’s really nothing that he can say other than I’m sorry . He looks around, eyes landing on the food counter at the back of the arcade. A smile starts to spread across his face as he forms a plan in his head. He turns back to David and asks, “Do you like nachos?”
“Huh?” The boy responds, lifting his face from his hands in confusion. “Yeah, nachos are good.”
“Have you had AstroBlast nachos?” Exer asks, leaning forward eagerly until he is inches away from David’s face. “They’re better than just good .”
“Uh, yeah, I have?” David responds, although it sounds more like a question. He leans back, putting a more reasonable distance between them. “They’re pretty tasty, I guess–”
“You are wrong ,” Exer interrupts, scrambling to his feet and picking up his ticket bucket from where he’d set it down beside him. “The nachos here are amazing .”
“Okay?” David looks up to him from the ground, confusion still clear on his face. “What–”
Exer cuts him off by thrusting his right hand down. “We’re going to get nachos, and you’re going to agree that they are the best food ever , and then we’re going to win all the games and be friends. Deal?”
David blinks up at him and then starts to giggle, a wide smile taking over his previously sad face. “You’re really weird.”
“I know.” Exer gives him a lopsided smile in return, showing off the gap in his front teeth. “Nachos?”
“Nachos,” David agrees, “and then friends?”
“Yup. We can’t be friends until you agree with me on the nachos. It’s very important.”
David laughs again, reaching up to take Exer’s offered hand. “If you say so.”
And then David’s pale fingers are brushing his darker ones, and Exer’s vision explodes with green glitter.
When he manages to blink the mist from his eyes, David’s standing, his hand still resting gently in Exer’s as he searches his face with concern. Exer’s attention drifts from David’s face to their conjoined hands, and he has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from freaking out.
Around his wrist is a thin band of shimmering green light, the texture and size almost like yarn. There’s a string dangling from the band just below the pulse point of his wrist, and he follows it with his eyes to where it connects to a similar band wrapped around David’s wrist. Exer extends his fingers from where they rest in David’s hand to touch the string-like bracelet, and to his surprise it’s tangible and textured almost like yarn would be, but not quite. It illuminates the space a little bit, but the light also seems contained, shimmering in a dull glow.
David looks down to where Exer’s fingers are grazing his wrist, and from his lack of any big reactions, Exer can tell he’s not seeing anything there. The other boy simply drops his hand from Exer’s and shoots him a confused look, but Exer’s too busy focusing on the way the distance has made the string lengthen, leaving enough slack that it hangs at his knees.
This has never happened before, and he’s not entirely sure what to do with it.
It’s pretty freaking cool, though.
“Are you okay?” David asks, because Exer’s been staring silently at his wrist long enough for it to be weird.
“Do you want to come to my birthday party?” He answers, even though it has nothing to do with the question.
“What?”
“I’m gonna have chocolate cake. It’s in ten days, do you wanna come?” Exer asks, looking up to meet David’s eyes, although it takes a considerable amount of effort to tear his eyes away from the string-bracelet thing.
“Um, sure?” David says, and the confused look intensifies. “I’d have to ask Mommy, but–”
“Awesome,” Exer interrupts, grabbing hold of David’s hand again so that the strings are brought back together, the added length shortening and vanishing into the band around his wrist. “How good are you at Skee-Ball?”
“Pretty bad, I can never get the ball in the 100 point hole,” David answers, clearly somewhat lost from all the topic changes.
“That’s fine, I’ll teach you.” Exer takes a step back, tugging David along with him. “Nachos, then Skee-Ball, then best friends.”
“ Best friends?” David asks, puzzled. “We just met!”
“I just have a good feeling about you.” Exer squeezes David’s hand, gaze flicking to the glowing green string. “We’re gonna be best friends.”
“What if I don’t like the nachos?” David asks, but he’s smiling and Exer can tell it’s not a real question.
He answers it anyway with a small shrug and a beaming smile, showing off the dimples that make all the ladies his dad works with give him free candy. “Then I guess I’ll have to make an exception, just this once.”
David laughs, taking a step closer to Exer and making the string shorten even further. “Okay then, weirdo, let’s get nachos.”
“And then Skee-Ball,” Exer says, taking a step back onto the main floor and out of their little hidey-hole.
“And then best friends,” David finishes, flashing Exer a smile so wide that he can see every one of the brackets on his teeth as he follows Exer out of the dark.
Best friends , Exer thinks to himself, heart filling with warmth as he and David head to the food counter.
“You’re paying for the nachos,” David pipes up from just behind him, and Exer glances back at him. The way the arcade lights reflect on his blond hair and bounce across his blue eyes catches Exer’s attention in a way he’s not sure how to describe. He’s never met someone this interesting before.
“Yeah, okay,” Exer agrees, tearing his eyes away from David and refocusing on the goal. “But you’ve gotta win me a prize, since I’m blessing you with the best nachos in the universe.”
“I guess that’s fair,” David agrees, and Exer smiles to himself.
Best friends.
That night, Exer goes home and tells his dad about a boy with sky-blue eyes and a smile that could light up a room, and his dad grins and ruffles his hair and says, “I’m glad you made a new friend, son.”
“He’s my best friend, Dad!” Exer exclaims, and his dad simply smiles again, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Okay, bud. Did you invite him to your birthday party?”
“I did! I wrote our address down on a napkin, he said he’s gonna come!”
“That’s nice,” his dad ruffles his hair one more time and then stands from the couch, stretching his arms above his head briefly. “Why don’t you go wash your hands so we can make dinner?”
“Okay, Dad!” Exer agrees quickly, racing to the kitchen sink to get ready.
For the next week, Exer is practically a ball of pure energy, alternating between staring intently at the string on his wrist and buzzing around the house. His dad eventually starts bringing him to work with him just so that Exer has something to do besides bounce off the walls, and it helps a little because he knows he needs to be a big kid in front of all his dad’s coworkers. Even so, in the days leading up to his birthday, Exer is more excited than he’s ever been.
On the day of, the house is all decorated in multicolor, balloons and streamers hanging in doorways and a big banner in the dining room that reads ‘ Happy Birthday, Exer!’ . There are people everywhere, from Exer’s neighbors to his friends from school, and there are even some of his dad’s coworkers in the mix. Even so, he stands by the door anxiously because there is really only one person he’s waiting for.
He’s just about to head back into the main area to grab some cheese from the variety cheese platter when he feels it, a sort of tugging in his chest, and he knows .
He whirls around, flinging the door open to reveal a very surprised David, one hand raised to ring the doorbell and the other holding a birthday bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper.
“Hi, Day!” Exer cries, throwing his arms around the other boy. “You made it!”
“Um, yeah.” David giggles, returning the hug. “I heard there was chocolate cake.”
“Aw, I thought you came because you’re my best friend.”
“It was just for the cake, sorry,” David says with a shrug and another giggle. “But I like your cat shirt. Maybe I’ll stay for the cake and ‘cause you’ve got a cool shirt.”
“Come on, silly.” Exer laughs, squeezing David one last time before letting go, only to grab his hand and tug him into the main area. David shuts the door behind himself and then allows Exer to drag him along into the mix of people, waving bashfully at everyone he passes.
David stays by his side the whole afternoon, letting Exer tug him from room to room, the green string dangling loosely between their wrists the whole time.
When it comes time to blow out his candles, David is in the chair right next to his. Everyone sings to him, which is fun, and then his dad tells him to make a wish. He does, gaze cutting to the boy beside him as he blows out the flames.
I wish for David and I to be best friends forever.
The string between them glows a little brighter, but Exer’s too distracted by chocolate cake and the cheers of those around him to really notice.
When Exer is nine, he finds out that David’s parents fight. A lot.
He kind of knew already, since he’d found David at the arcade because the kid’s parents were arguing, but he doesn’t find out the real scope of it until David starts sleeping at his house more often than he sleeps at his own.
It’s one of those nights again tonight, where David shows up at their door with an overnight bag and a very sad look on his face. Christine had called his dad ahead of time to let him know she was sending David over, so Exer’s already getting an array of David’s favorite movies layed out to cheer the boy up by the time he hears a gentle tap tap tap at the door.
He doesn’t make a move to answer it because his dad is closer, having been standing by the window and making sure that David was safe on his way over. The door opens, and there’s some slightly muffled conversation before it shuts again. Exer sits up straighter, watching as the string attached to his wrist shortens in length until it picks up off the floor and David is standing right above him.
“Hi,” David says in a tone that’s much too sad for an eight-year-old, and especially for David.
“Hi,” Exer says back, looking up at his best friend. “Aristocats or Willy Wonka?”
“Willy Wonka,” David says, so Exer nods and puts Aristocats back on the media shelf.
“D’ya want to put your stuff in my room? I’ll get this set up.”
“I can make popcorn!” Exer’s dad calls from the kitchen, because nights like these have become so routine that Harry keeps an extra large container of popcorn kernels and various popcorn salts in the pantry. Usually, he wouldn’t let Exer stay up late on a Tuesday night, let alone watching movies, but they both know that the nights that David comes over are different.
“Okay, thank you Mr. Harry!” David calls into the kitchen, small fingers clutching tightly around the straps of his blue backpack-slash-overnight bag. He turns back to Exer, flashing him a very small smile. He still has braces, but now they’re just plain silver, and his front tooth has grown back in almost all the way. “Be right back.”
“Okay!” Exer says, flashing him a smile in return. “You can put your PJs on too, if you wanna.”
David nods, and Exer watches the string grow in length and drag along the floor as David heads up the stairs to Exer’s room. Once he’s out of sight, he returns his focus to the movie, opening the disc case and putting the DVD carefully into its player. He gets it all set up, and he’s working through actually getting the movie to start when he sees David appear at the bottom of the staircase in his peripheral vision.
“Welcome back!” Exer calls out, and David glances at him briefly. He’s wearing a bright yellow T-Shirt with some goofy cartoon character printed across the front and black pajama pants decorated with small sharks. Those pants are some of his favorites, if the amount of times Exer has seen him wear them is anything to go by.
Exer beckons David over, but the boy turns to the kitchen instead, walking over to where Harry is standing at the stove. He looks up at Exer’s dad and asks, “Do you need any help, Mr. Harry?”
“I’ve got this, kiddo,” Harry says with a smile, giving David’s hair a ruffle. “Thanks for asking, though. That’s very kind of you.”
David’s cheeks flush slightly and he nods. “Can I have the ranch flavor on mine?”
Harry’s smile turns a little sadder and a little softer. “Of course you can, David.”
David nods again, “Okay. Thanks.”
Having nothing else to ask Harry, David makes his way over to Exer and the T.V, settling into his usual corner of the couch and tugging the fuzzy blanket that remains there from their last sleepover over his legs. Exer starts the movie, calling out to let his dad know to hurry up before rushing over to the couch and sitting beside David. He tugs on the blanket and David lifts it, allowing Exer to get his legs underneath it too as they settle in to watch a bunch of kids fight over candy.
Exer’s dad comes to the couch about ten minutes into the movie, three bowls of popcorn balanced precariously in his arms. He hands one to Exer and one to David and keeps the last one for himself, sitting at the end of the couch opposite David. Exer leans into him slightly, resting his head against his dad’s arm and absentmindedly shoving a piece of popcorn in his mouth as he watches Veruca Salt complain about golden tickets.
It’s white cheddar flavored. He loves white cheddar.
He smiles a little as David leans into him, resting against his side as he watches the movie. Exer glances at him, and the boy is absolutely transfixed by the characters, troubles forgotten as he gets absorbed in the story like he always does. His eyes shine with the colors on screen, and it’s almost more interesting than the movie.
But then Charlie’s shouting about something or another, and his attention is recaptured by the T.V.
It’s nice to be packed onto a couch like this, right between his two favoritist people in the whole wide world. It makes him feel warm and happy, and even though he knows the circumstances suck, he’s glad that he and his dad can be there for David when he needs them.
He’s so comfortable, in fact, that he finds himself drifting off somewhere around Charlie and his grandpa drinking the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. He buries his face into his Dad’s shoulder, the half-eaten bowl of popcorn dangerously close to tumbling off his lap. He hears his dad say something and feels the bowl move, but he’s too tired to really register what it is. He falls asleep to the background noise of the characters on the television and the weight of his favorite people beside him.
When he wakes up, the T.V is off and his dad is gone. He’s laying on the couch, the blanket covering him up to his shoulders and David tucked into his side, his breathing slow and even. All the other lights are off, and when he squints at the clock hanging by the kitchen entryway, it reads somewhere around 1’o’clock in the morning. He considers getting up to brush his teeth, but the weight of David half on top of him stops him from going anywhere.
He shifts slightly, trying to get more comfortable and fall back into the easy sleep he’d had before, but the small movement disturbs the boy beside him. David’s eyes blink open, and then he and Exer are staring at each other in the dark, blue on amber.
“What time is it?” David yawns, turning his head into Exer’s shoulder so that he’s not breathing into his face. Exer appreciates it.
“Somewhere around one, I think,” Exer responds, taking advantage of David being awake to get into a more comfortable position.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I think I slept through half the movie.”
“I was awake when your dad left, but he said I could just stay down here with you ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up.” David winds an arm across Exer’s chest, and Exer reaches up to hold his hand, the string between their wrists shrinking until it’s almost nothing.
“Did you wanna go up to my room?” Exer asks quietly, and David shakes his head lightly against his arm.
“No, this is fine.”
Exer hums, closing his eyes in hopes of being able to fall back asleep before he starts having to go to the bathroom or something that would force him to move. He’s on the verge of sleep when David’s grip tightens around his hand and the boy whispers a barely audible, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Exer asks gently. He hates when David sounds like this, worn thin and sad.
“Coming over so much.”
“I love having you here. You’re awesome.”
“Yeah, but– don’t you get tired of me?” David asks quietly, and Exer looks at him through the corner of his eye because he can’t actively face him without smashing their noses together.
“I could never,” Exer whispers back, and it’s true.
“It doesn’t make your dad angry? Having me over all the time when I’m not his kid?”
“My dad doesn’t get angry very much, and he loves you too.” Exer says, squeezing David’s hand gently.
“My dad gets angry at everything .” David’s voice shakes, his small body trembling slightly against Exer’s side. “I don’t think he loves me very much. Or Mommy.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Exer says, even though from what he’s heard it might be. The very thought of someone not loving David confuses and upsets him, because it makes no sense. David is one of the most amazing people, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met, and anyone who can’t see that is stupid in his opinion.
“If he loved me, he wouldn’t get mad at me all the time.”
“Maybe he’s just an angry person.” Exer focuses his eyes back on the ceiling, because looking to the side for that long is starting to hurt. “My dad says some people are just mad all the time because they don’t know what else to do with all of their feelings, so they take them out on other people.”
“I guess.” David mutters, adjusting his cheek against Exer’s arm. “I just wish he wouldn’t.”
“Me too.”
“He’s my daddy, he’s not supposed to be scary.” Exer feels David frown, so he squeezes his hand again for good measure. “Your dad never yells at you.”
“I’m just lucky, I guess,” Exer says, a weird sort of guilt settling into his stomach.
“Yeah,” David agrees, sighing wistfully. “I wish I had Mr. Harry as a dad.”
“You’re basically a son to him at this point, I think.” Exer holds David tightly to his side, like he can make him feel better if he compresses him hard enough.
“That’s nice.” David yawns again. “I love Mommy, I just wish Daddy would stop yelling at her.”
“Your mom’s really cool,” Exer agrees with as much of a nod as he can manage. “She makes good brownies.”
“She does. Brenda helps her a lot, but I’m really bad at baking so I usually just watch.” David smiles softly, a touch of joy coming back into his voice. “I get to lick the frosting off the spoon, though.”
“Maybe your mom can teach me how to make brownies,” Exer considers, and David nods sleepily.
“Mhm.” Another yawn, and this one is contagious, so they both stop talking for a minute until David says, “I’m tired.”
“Go to sleep. We can talk later, if you want.”
“Don’t wanna talk anymore. M’tired of thinking about it.”
“Okay. Dad will wake us up when it’s time for school.”
David hums in acknowledgement, adjusting himself against Exer’s side until he’s comfortable. “Night.”
“Goodnight, Day. Sleep well.”
David squeezes his hand once, so Exer squeezes his in return. He yawns one more time in spite of himself, blinking tiredly at the ceiling. After a few more minutes, he closes his eyes and drifts off into a mildly uncomfortable sleep filled with strange dreams about parents that aren’t his, screaming at each other as a young boy with blond hair sits underneath his bed, hands over his ears and tears cascading down his cheeks.
Between their interlocked hands, the string shimmers just the littlest bit more.
When Exer is ten, he has far too close a call with losing his best friend.
They’re playing at a park near their houses, tucked partway into the forest that sits at the center of the town. It’s not a massive park, with not much more than one playground structure, a single twisty slide, a swingset, and a see-saw. Exer’s dad has been taking him here since he was little, and he’s got the route memorized, so when he’d asked his dad if he and David could go play at the park, Harry had simply nodded and told him to be safe.
It’s not the grandest of parks, no, but Exer and David are the grandest of friends, and they can make anything fun.
It had rained the night before, so a lot of the structures still have water pooled in them. They make the best of it, though, pouring out what they can and just dealing with the rest. They’re currently on the swingset, competing to see who can make it the highest.
Which, it’s obviously Exer, even though David tries to insist otherwise.
“I am higher than you!” David calls down, and Exer glares at him.
“You’re just at the highest part of your swinging!” Exer argues, kicking his legs out with more force.
“Fine, hold on, hold on, let’s start over,” David says, slamming his feet in the mulch as he tries to slow down his momentum. “If we do it at the same time, we can tell for sure who’s the better swinger.”
“This time, we’ve gotta start at the exact same time, or else it won’t work,” Exer says, bringing himself to a stop as well, locking eyes with the boy beside him.
“On three.”
Exer grins, readying himself to push off the ground. “On three,” he agrees.
“One,” David flashes him a smile.
“Two,” Exer sticks his tongue out at David, and the other boy laughs.
“Three!” They shout in unison, giggling as they push off the ground at the same time.
It’s exhilarating, the race to the top, the weightlessness that comes with the start of every downswing. Exer looks up, watching the clouds move beyond the trees and the sky rhythmically move closer and then farther and then closer again. A glance to the right tells him that David is still keeping pace with him, the green string swinging back and forth between them, lagging behind their momentum slightly.
It’s a fun challenge, but after a little while, it becomes more of a game of keeping pace rather than a competition. They end up resetting several times to make sure they stay in sync, and as Exer pumps his legs back and forth and fights the April breeze, he watches David, blond hair whipping in the wind and whoops of excitement lost to the sky. It’s a wonderful view, he thinks, the boy of boundless joy before an endless sea of blue the same shade as his eyes.
Eventually, though, the two of them get bored with the swings and move on to other games, avoiding the puddles on the equipment and chasing one another around the playscape. They play every game they can think of that can be played with only two people, filling the gaps in their stories with imagination and transforming the playground into any world they want as the sun moves across the sky.
At some point, they begin playing pirates, weaving a tale of two sailors in their heads. There’s a big shark out in the ocean, so they have to stay on the relatively small playscape, which contains only a set of stairs, one of those weird tic-tac-toe boards, a bridge, and another set of stairs that leads to a purple swirly slide roughly nine feet tall. Exer’s at the tic-tac-toe board, or the map, shouting for David to get up to the crow’s nest, or the top of the twisty slide. David responds with an eager aye-aye, Captain , scrambling onto the cover that hangs over the plastic slide. Exer turns to watch him, prepared to shout more imaginary orders once the blond has made it safely up.
And this is where things go very, very wrong.
Usually, the top of the slide is perfectly safe, if not a little hard to get onto. When it’s dry, there’s plenty of traction, more than enough to keep someone from falling.
But it had rained the night prior, and as David’s sneakers make contact with the plastic covering he slips, screaming as he tumbles off of the slide and into the mulch below. There’s a clang , like he hit some metal part of the playscape on the way down, and then there is a silence that chills Exer down to the core.
He stays frozen for a second, heart still in his chest, staring blankly at the place where David should be, because it seems incomprehensible that he wouldn’t be there.
Then there’s a muffled cry from the ground, and Exer springs into action. He races down the playscape steps, pulse in his throat and tears springing to his eyes as he follows the string to where his best friend lies in the mulch. David’s still, staring up at the sky and wheezing like the wind’s been knocked out of him. When Exer crouches by his side, David’s focus slides over to him, but his eyes look fuzzy.
“Exer?” He asks softly, and then winces.
“I’m here, Day, what–” Exer starts, but pauses in horror as he registers the red pouring out of the back of the boy’s head and seeping into the mulch below. He reaches to touch the back of David’s head, and his hand comes away slick with blood. “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh.” There are tears in David’s eyes now, “Tha’s not good.”
“Where does it hurt?” Exer asks, because that’s what his dad does and he’s running on autopilot. He feels like he should know what to do but he doesn’t, so he’s grappling at whatever he can find in his jumbled head.
“E’ry’ere,” David mumbles, eyes sliding shut. “M’tired.”
“Hey, hey, no, don’t do that,” Exer pleads. He doesn’t know if he can carry David all the way back home, and he certainly doesn’t want to leave the boy alone to try and go get help.
Between them, the string fades slightly, and Exer’s tears turn into full-on sobbing.
“No, no, no, no, what does that mean?” He cries, tangling his hands in his hair as he looks down at David, his best friend, who’s breathing is far, far too slow and labored. His face is getting more pale by the second, the usual rosy tint of his cheeks draining to white. “Is he dying? ”
The string flickers in response, and it’s around here that Exer stops really thinking.
He places his hands gently on David’s chest, summoning the buzzing magical energy that flows through him like electricity constantly and forcing it through his fingertips. He’s never tried something like this before, and David’s sure to have questions, but right now none of that matters in the face of losing his best friend permanently.
Please work , he begs, closing his eyes tightly and concentrating as hard as he can. Please.
He pictures the wound on David’s head closing, the blood on the ground and on his hand disappearing, and the various other injuries he can’t quite name repairing themselves under his palms. He breathes deeply, inhaling and releasing a little more magic with every exhale until he feels a stronger pulse thump against his fingertips.
He opens his eyes to green mist and a pair of bright blue eyes, open wide and staring up at him.
“What are you doing?” David asks, and Exer immediately pulls the boy into a tight hug. “What happened?”
“You um, you fell off the slide.” Exer’s throat is clogged, his eyes filled with tears still. He wasn’t sure he could pull that off, and he’s so, so glad it worked.
“Why are you crying? I don’t feel hurt,” David says, wrinkling his nose. “It’s all fuzzy.”
“I was scared,” Exer says, clutching David tighter to his chest. “I thought you died.”
“But I’m fine, see?” David pulls back, looking Exer in the eyes. “I’m okay.”
But he almost wasn’t, and the mental image of David bleeding out into the mulch will haunt Exer for the rest of his life.
Exer nods anyway, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Yeah.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” David says, and Exer chokes out a sob.
“Can we just go home?” Exer asks quietly, and David squeezes his hand before letting go and standing.
“Okay. Do you have orange juice at home?”
“Yeah,” Exer says, dusting his hands off on his shorts as he stands too. “Yeah, I think we do.”
David smiles, braces on display, and grabs Exer’s right hand. “Let’s go home, then. Maybe Mr. Harry will let us watch a movie before I have to go.”
“I hope so,” Exer agrees, doing one more quick scan of David to make sure he’s okay. There’s not a single bruise on him, but Exer’s chest is still knotted with worry and guilt.
Exer doesn’t let go of David’s hand the whole way home, but it soothes him a little when the string between them glows a little stronger.
When Exer is eleven, David’s parents get divorced.
David tells him about it when they’re walking home from school sometime around mid-October. It’s starting to get colder, but not quite cold enough for heavy jackets and gloves. The chill in the air is easily blocked by his red sweater and jeans, although it still nips at his ears a little. He got a haircut recently, one that doesn’t cover his ears anymore, but he’s slowly getting used to it.
David walks to his right, hands clenched tightly around his backpack straps and gaze firmly set on the sidewalk. He’s gone the light jacket and T-Shirt route, but he’s got jeans on too, although his are a few shades lighter than Exer’s. His white shoes pound the concrete with probably way more force than necessary, but Exer doesn’t point it out, waiting for David to open up and tell him what’s wrong. He’s never really been good at hiding things, especially from Exer.
The string dangles between them, swinging to and fro as they walk. Exer walks around a stop sign just to see what happens, and the string simply phases through it with a shimmer of green sparkles.
Weird.
The walk continues in silence for a little while longer, quiet save for the rustling of autumn leaves and the occasional car. David’s been off all day, speaking curtly and almost aggressively in a way he never really has before. It’s scary almost, for his usually bright and cheery best friend to be angry like this. He’s seen Day sad plenty of times before, but this is different, and it creates an atmosphere Exer doesn’t really know how to work with.
He opens his mouth to try anyway because the silence is starting to get uncomfortable, but just as he does David finally starts to speak.
“Mom came home from work with divorce papers yesterday,” David grits out, like it physically hurts him to say. He goes out of his way slightly to kick a rock across the sidewalk as Exer digests his words.
“What?” Exer finally asks, and he cringes as soon as the question leaves his mouth.
“You know, a divorce?” David looks at him, blue eyes cold and sharp. “That thing where your parents decide they hate each other so much that they don’t want to live together anymore?”
“But isn’t– isn’t that a good thing?” Exer says, scrambling to keep up with David’s anger and placate it as best he can. He’s really not equipped to deal with this right now, in the middle of the sidewalk, with no real knowledge of how families with two parents are supposed to work. “They won’t fight any more, right? Isn’t that what we wanted?”
David laughs darkly, and it’s a sound that shakes Exer down to his core. “No. This isn't what I wanted. This isn’t what I wanted at all.”
“Okay, um…” Exer looks down at the pavement, because looking into David’s eyes right now feels like a bit too much. “What did you want, then?”
“I don’t know!” David shouts, and the switch from oddly quiet to suddenly very loud makes Exer recoil slightly. “For them to just… stop fighting? For them to realize that they love each other, and for things to go back to the way they were when I was little? I wanted to be a family again, but apparently that was too much to ask for.”
“I’m sorry,” Exer says, because there’s not much else to say.
“Of course you are,” David mutters, knuckles going white against the straps of his backpack. “Mom’s sorry , Dad’s sorry , even Brenda’s sorry, sorry, sorry but it doesn’t do anything!”
“I’m sor–” Exer starts, but he cuts himself off. “I don’t know what else to say, Day.”
David curses, and Exer flinches. He’s never heard David curse before. “Apologies couldn’t save their marriage. They don’t mean anything. Dad used to say sorry every time he yelled, but he kept doing it anyway, and eventually he stopped regretting it, too.”
“You get to stay with your mom though, right?” Exer asks, clinging to whatever hope he can find in this situation. These are big feelings he didn’t really know David was having, things he feels too young to really understand, even though David’s younger than he is.
David shakes his head, “No. Dad’s getting primary custody of me, and Mom’s getting Brenda. That’s the only way he’d sign the papers.”
“What?” Exer cries, pausing on the sidewalk. “But he–”
“Sucks? Yeah, I know. Thanks for reminding me.” David stops too, turning back to him. “Mom’s packing right now. Brenda’s staying over at a friend’s house– Pamela, I think.”
“Your dad’s keeping the house?”
“Yeah. Mom said she didn’t want it.” David turns back around, and Exer can hear his voice shake. “She tried to fight for me, said it was unfair to separate Brenda and I, but Dad held his ground and I guess she just wanted out so bad that she accepted it.”
“Do you want to come over tonight?” Exer asks, moving forward so he can see David’s face. “You can talk to Dad, he’s good with this kind of–”
“I don’t want to talk to your dad.” David shakes his head roughly, beginning to walk again at a pace that has Exer half-jogging to keep up. David’s stride is longer than Exer’s thanks to the couple of inches he has over him. “I don’t want this to be happening at all .”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Exer asks with a twinge of guilt when he realizes how exasperated he sounds. He forces his breathing normal and his voice level as he says, “I just want to help you, Day.”
“I know you do, but I–” David’s voice breaks, and some part of Exer along with it. “I don’t know what you can do. It’s not like you can magically make them love each other again.”
Exer flinches, guilt washing over him because yeah, he probably could , but that crosses some kind of magical boundary that he’s not really willing to step over. He wants to, so badly, because seeing David act this way hurts, but forcing two people to be together like that and knowing that it’s fake feels wrong. David deserves something real, and the thought of giving him a fake family that only loves each other because Exer says they should makes his stomach twist.
He glances at the string, still dangling between them, and wonders briefly if that’s hypocritical.
Beside him, David sighs, drawing his shoulders near his ears. “Thanks for trying, I guess.”
“I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Exer says, and then cringes immediately. “I mean, um– I know you said–”
“Thanks.” David cuts him off, knocking their shoulders together gently. “I’ll ask if I can stay over at your place tonight, but I just wanna watch movies or something. No serious talks.”
“No serious talks,” Exer agrees with a nod. “I can do that.”
David gives him a tight-lipped smile, and Exer returns it with one he hopes is reassuring.
Christine ends up saying yes to David staying the night, and even asks that he stay over all week while she and William get things sorted out. David agrees, reluctantly, so Christine calls Harry and arranges for her son to stay over for the week while Exer and David go up to his room so that David can pack. It’s tense and awkward the whole time that they’re in the house, no words exchanged between them other than hey can you grab my toothbrush or can you put this in that bag over there, thanks. Exer passes William a grand total of once while going to fetch David’s shampoo, and the man only glares at him coldly.
Needless to say, when they get back outside, now with an extra suitcase and a small bag of toiletries, Exer is more than relieved to be out of that house. It’s suffocating.
Christ , how does David manage to live with that atmosphere constantly?
“That was… tense,” he says, and David shakes his head.
“Not right now. Serious talks later.”
“Right, sorry,” Exer says sheepishly, and David says nothing in response.
Thankfully, his dad’s car pulls into the driveway pretty quickly after that, saving him from the painfully awkward silence. Exer helps David lift his suitcase into the trunk, setting the bag of toiletries beside it. They pile into the backseat together, Exer on the left and David on the right, the string settled between them. Because of the suitcase in the trunk, they’re holding their backpacks in their laps. Exer clutches his like a lifeline, because he’s feeling very, very lost right now.
“Your mom told me what’s going on, David.”
Silence.
Harry turns around to face David, eyes gentle and caring to match his tone. “You are always welcome at my house. You will never, ever be a burden on me or Exer, and we are happy to care for you whenever. None of this is your fault, and I’m very sorry this is something you have to go through.”
“We love you, man,” Exer chimes in, but it does nothing to cut the tension radiating from David’s half of the car.
“How does ice cream sound?” Harry asks, and David simply turns his head and stares out the window. In the reflection, Exer can see tears shimmering in his eyes.
“Maybe we should just go home, Dad,” Exer says quietly, and Harry nods.
“I think you’re right, son.” His dad starts the car and begins to pull out of the driveway. “But there’s ice cream in the freezer if you want it. You kids are welcome to anything.”
“Thanks,” Exer says, watching David’s reflection in the window. A tear slips down the other boy’s cheek, and Exer turns around awkwardly, clutching his backpack tighter to himself.
David says nothing.
Exer sighs and looks out his own window, staring out at the cloudy sky as it passes and wondering if there’s any way to make his friend feel better. The string between them shimmers a little brighter in the reflection, and Exer leans his forehead against the cold glass, closing his eyes as his heart sinks down to his toes.
When Exer is twelve, he spends the night at David’s house for the first time.
It’s about a year after Brenda and David’s mom have moved out when David pulls him aside in the hall after math class. Before they go their separate ways, Exer to Biology and David to English, he awkwardly asks if Exer could spend the night at his house.
To which Exer’s obvious response is, “What?”
David groans, running a hand through his hair. “Dad wants to get to know you or something, since I’m always hanging out at your house, so he said to invite you over.”
Exer just sort of blinks at David in confusion. It is true that he’s never been over to David’s house before, and the most conversation he’s ever had with Mr. Miller was a brief conversation filled with nothing but awkward pleasantries. David’s dad just constantly makes Exer feel like he’s being judged, cold blue eyes watching his every move so carefully that it feels like even the slightest mistake in front of that man could be unforgivable.
Add what he’s heard about the man from David, and frankly, Exer is terrified.
And now he wants Exer to sleep over ?
“Why now?” Exer asks, and David shrugs.
“Hell if I know. He just told me to ask you, and said that if tonight doesn’t work then tomorrow is fine.”
“Tonight should be fine,” Exer says, anxiety beginning to thrum beneath his skin. “What– what should I bring?”
“Whatever you usually bring to sleepovers, I guess.” David glances over Exer’s shoulder at the clock and then back to Exer. “Just tell your dad to drop you off around six, we’re gonna have dinner I think.”
“Uh, okay?” Exer says, absentmindedly twisting the green string between his fingers. The movement catches David’s attention, but the blond just gives him a strange look, used to Exer occasionally fiddling with something that isn’t there. It’s become a habit over the past year or so, a reassurance to fiddle with the string whenever he’s feeling nervous because it’s a constant, a tether that never changes even as everything around him does.
“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then. Good luck in Bio.” David gives Exer a quick grin and a pat on the shoulder before turning on his heel and heading towards the English classrooms.
“Have fun in English!” Exer calls after him, watching as the string stretches and follows David down the stairwell, nerves coiling low in his stomach.
He tells his dad about his plans to sleep over at David’s as soon as he gets home from school, and his dad is just as surprised to hear that Mr. Miller wants him over as Exer was. Harry frets a little, making sure that Exer packs everything he needs and reminding Exer to mind his manners while he’s over at David’s. Exer nods and agrees, shoving a plain gray tank top and plain black pajama shorts into a duffel bag, because he figures that with someone like Mr. Miller, it’s better to leave no impression than a bad one.
Once he’s ready to go, he stands anxiously by the door, twisting the string around his fingers as his dad makes sure he has everything.
“Clothes for tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Got all of your toiletries?”
“Mhm.” Exer nods, and Harry steps in closer, wrapping his arms around his son. Exer returns the hug carefully. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, and his dad seems to be feeling the same way, which does absolutely nothing to soothe him.
“If something happens, please don’t be afraid to come home.” Harry presses a kiss into Exer’s curls, and even though some might say Exer’s getting a bit too old for acts of affection like that, it makes him feel better anyway. “I know David’s your friend, but…”
“I get it. Thanks, Dad.” Exer takes another moment to hold tight to his father before stepping away, backpack firmly on his shoulders and duffel bag over his arm. Harry nods and steps away too, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” Exer confirms, and Harry takes a deep breath.
“Alright. Let’s head over, then. We wouldn’t want you to be late.”
They head out into the chilly autumn breeze, and Exer tries his hardest to swallow his nerves.
The car ride over to David’s is short and tense, neither of them speaking, but Exer can still feel his dad’s worry like a tangible thing. It’s almost a relief when they pull into the driveway because it means he can escape the weird atmosphere in the car, but then he spots Mr. Miller and David standing on the front porch and his anxiety increases tenfold.
David comes over immediately, opening the passenger side door for Exer with a thin smile. “Hey, Exer.”
“Hi, David,” Exer responds, because Day feels too personal under the scrutinizing blue eyes of Mr. Miller. “Would you mind grabbing my duffel from the trunk?”
“Sure,” David agrees easily, stepping back so Exer can get out of the car. He throws his backpack over his shoulders, shutting the door behind him and then guiding David to the back to grab the rest of his things for the night.
He can hear a brief conversation between his dad and David’s from the front, all in clipped, falsely polite tones. He recognizes the level of his dad’s voice, the way he sounds like he’s forcing a smile after every word. It worries him that apparently Mr. Miller is someone that even Harry has a hard time being courteous with.
David catches his eye as he’s pulling the duffel out of the trunk, and he mutters, “Don’t worry. He’s not that bad.”
“I thought–”
“He’s gotten better about it. You’ll be fine.” David shoves the duffel bag into his hands and then turns to Mr. Miller and says loudly, “I’m gonna show Exer where to put his things, and then we’ll be down for dinner.”
“That’s fine,” Mr. Miller says, so David turns back around and guides Exer up to the front door.
David turns to him, mutters, “Don’t mind the clutter,” and then pushes open the door.
The last time he was here was the day he’d found out about the divorce, and while it feels a lot less tense now, it still feels very suffocating. It’s a little dirtier than his house, but the thing that catches Exer off guard is how distinctly un-Davidlike the whole space feels. There’s football memorabilia everywhere, a leather couch, and a T.V set in the main area, and the kitchen seems cluttered and mostly unused.
“What are we having for dinner?” Exer asks, and David shrugs.
“He’s probably gonna go pick up burgers or something, I dunno.” David takes him upstairs, not giving Exer much time to focus on any particular feature of his surroundings. It’s almost like he’s ashamed of his house, and Exer can kind of understand why.
In his house, there’s love and a feeling of home pouring distinctly from every corner, making the place warm and comfortable and safe.
Here, there’s nothing but a bare chill in the air and the scent of something gone stale.
David guides him past his bedroom into the spare bedroom upstairs. It used to be Brenda’s, but everything of hers has been cleared out save for a single twin bed in the center of the room with black sheets and two pillows, as well as a very oddly patterned quilt. It doesn’t strike Exer as something Brenda would have, so he turns to David for answers.
“I wasn’t given much time, and we don’t have that many spare blankets,” David explains, and Exer simply nods in response.
Still, the room is weirdly empty aside from the bed, a single nightstand with an old lamp the only other furniture. Exer sets his bags on the twin bed and then turns back to David with a smile that he hopes looks genuine.
“Thanks,” Exer says, and David snorts.
“I know it sucks, you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t.” David looks to the side, eyes narrowing. “I’d let you stay in my room, but Dad thinks it’s ‘inappropriate’ for two boys to share a room, so he insisted you sleep in here.”
“It’s fine, really,” Exer assures him, walking back over to where David stands and taking the boy’s hand in his own, the string dangling between them. “I’m happy to be here.”
David gives him a small smile and opens his mouth to say something, but then there’s the sound of the front door opening and David’s dad calling something out, and David snatches his hand out of Exer’s like he’s been burned.
It stings, but Exer doesn’t have time to dwell on it as David calls down the stairs, “Coming, Dad!” and then beckons for Exer to follow.
William ends up ordering pizza, and while they wait for it to arrive, they all sit awkwardly around the dining table. It’s made to seat four people, so he and David sit on one side and Mr. Miller on the other. Exer twirls the string around his wrist, making small talk with Mr. Miller and pulling out every bit of charm he can manage while his chest aches with the fear of doing something wrong.
“So, are you planning on trying out for any sports next year, Exer?” Mr. Miller asks, and Exer blinks. “David’s trying out for football. Isn’t that right, David?”
David nods mutely, and Exer stares at him in shock. David had never mentioned anything about the JV football team, let alone trying out for it, and from the way he’s staring at the table, it’s not really something he wants to do. Exer swallows harshly, meeting Mr. Miller's eyes as he answers. “Yes, sir. I was thinking of trying out for the football team as well, or maybe soccer.”
“You should stick with football,” Mr. Miller says with a nod. “It’s a far better sport for young men.”
Exer nods, not necessarily because he agrees, more because he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.
“It’s what the ladies like, too. I was the quarterback in high school, and they were all over me. I had a date practically every night.” Mr. Miller smiles, like he’s just told a good joke or let Exer in on a secret, and Exer smiles back politely as discomfort settles in.
Luckily, the doorbell chimes, and the delivery of pizza saves him from any more awkward small-talk with David’s dad. It’s two pizzas, one Meat-Eater and one plain cheese, and Exer only has a single slice of cheese because for some reason the thought of taking more makes him feel sick.
Dinner is a silent affair, and Exer takes the opportunity to watch David because this is an environment he’s rarely seen the other boy in before. He’s quiet, far more subdued than he usually is even around Harry. He seems tense, too, the line of his shoulders rigid and his jaw set, eyes flicking to his dad and then to the table and rarely meeting Exer’s. It’s strange, and it feeds into Exer’s anxiety, making his nerves spike every time Mr. Miller glances in his direction.
Once pizza is done, David stuffs the leftovers into the fridge where Exer can see a few other pizza boxes and various other fast food items stocked away. Exer wants nothing more than to vanish upstairs and hang out with David alone, or even to start on his Biology project, anything but staying downstairs with Mr. Miller and this strange version of David.
He stands from the table, fully intent on making some excuse to go upstairs, but then Mr. Miller beckons him to the leather couch to watch a football game and it would be incredibly rude to decline. So, he tucks himself awkwardly into the far corner of the couch, sitting as straight as he can. David sits in an old leather armchair to his left, one leg tucked under the other.
Mr. Miller turns on the T.V, switching to the football channel and cranking the volume as high as it’ll go before sitting back down on the couch, luckily on the end opposite Exer. He gets really into the game, and Exer tries to appear passionate too, but he’s hyper aware of every breath the man takes and every time he throws up his arms in triumph, Exer flinches internally. The leather couch is uncomfortable too, weirdly cold in a way that stops him from relaxing entirely. A look to his left tells him that David is thoroughly disinterested as well, picking at a thread coming out of the armrest of his chair.
Exer sighs, twisting the bright green string around and around his wrist as he resolves himself to several hours of boredom and really, really loud sports announcers.
At some point, he and David even get so bored that they start playing games with their eyes, blinking at each other and trying to copy the other’s rhythm. It proves to be a good way to pass the time, and Exer’s part way through coming up with a really difficult pattern when Mr. Miller finally announces that it’s time for them to go to bed. Exer thanks him for dinner and for letting him stay the night before practically racing upstairs, David right at his heels.
The T.V is still roaring downstairs, so David takes Exer’s hand and tugs him into his room, shutting the door behind them before collapsing face-first onto his bed with a sigh. Exer looks around, nerves loosening at the more familiar territory. David’s room holds far more of the David he knows, and it’s nice to be out from under Mr. Miller’s gaze.
“Am I allowed to be in here?” Exer asks, and David rolls over with a groan.
“He’s gonna be down there for at least another couple hours. He just sent us up here so he could have a beer without us around,” David says, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. “As long as you’re in the guest room in an hour or so, it’s fine.”
“Okay,” Exer says, walking over to where David is and laying down beside him.
They stare up at the whirling blades of the ceiling fan for several minutes, neither of them saying anything to break the quiet. Exer reaches over and grabs David’s hand gently, and the boy doesn’t grab his back, but he doesn’t flinch away, either. It’s a weird in-between, the same way a lot of things have been tonight.
“This is weird,” Exer thinks aloud, and David laughs sadly beside him.
“It is, yeah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Exer closes his eyes, but the lights in the ceiling fan have imprinted on the back of his eyelids, creating a weird sort of spot effect. “Does he like me?”
“Who, Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“I think so. I don’t think he really cares too much about you, to be honest.”
“Ouch,” Exer says, feigning hurt. “That’s rough.”
“Don’t take it personally,” David says flatly. “I can never really tell if he cares about me, either.”
That shoves Exer forcefully back into silence, because he doesn't know what words could possibly make something like that any better. The whirling of the fan makes the quiet that follows awkward and expectant, like Exer is supposed to have the answers to a situation like this. He doesn’t, though, and it hurts, not knowing how to make this better.
“I’m sorry,” David finally says, his voice thin and tired. “I don’t mean to be so angry. This is just– it’s really awkward for me too, and I’m still trying to come to terms with everything, I guess.”
“It’s okay,” Exer says, even though it feels like it isn’t.
“It’s not, though,” David argues, pulling his hand out of Exer’s to run it through his hair. “I should be over this by now. It’s been a year, I should be used to all of this.”
“It’s a lot,” Exer says, tilting his head so he can face David fully. “It’s fine if you’re not used to it yet.”
“But I’m tired of feeling like this!” David groans, moving his hands from his hair to cover his eyes. “I’m sick of laying here and thinking about how I’d rather be anywhere but in this stupid house.”
“I’m sorry,” Exer says, and he’s really sick of that being the only thing he has.
“I know you are,” David says, and it’s worse because there’s no anger, no sadness, only a pure exhaustion that sounds bone-deep.
“I wish you could just come live with me,” Exer says, and David turns to face him too. “My dad loves you.”
“I wish that sometimes, too.” David whispers, breath tickling Exer’s cheek. “But it’ll get better, right? It has to.”
“It will,” Exer agrees, a promise that he can’t keep but he hopes holds true.
David looks at him for a long moment, blue eyes staring into amber in a way Exer can’t quite decipher. It does something funny to his chest, but Exer pushes it aside because now is not the place to deal with funny things, not when David is looking at him like this.
“I’m tired,” David says quietly, voice rough.
“I don’t want to go,” Exer says, taking David’s hand in his again.
“You have to, I’m sorry.”
“I know, but I–” Exer blinks back the feelings rising in his throat– “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’ll be okay,” David reassures, giving Exer a small smile. His braces are long gone now, but his teeth had never been fixed completely, so his smile is a little crooked. Exer loves it, though– David isn’t perfect, he’s interesting , and that’s what makes him such an amazing best friend.
“Are you sure?” Exer asks, giving David’s hand a squeeze.
“I’m sure.” David gives his hand a squeeze in return. “Now get out of here, worrywart.”
“Okay,” Exer says uncertainly, letting go of David and sliding off the bed. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” David echos. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Exer says, stepping out into the hall. He pauses, calling back into the room, “Sleep well!”
“You too.”
Exer shuts the door behind himself with a sigh, making his way slightly down the hall to the guest room. He gets ready for bed fairly quickly, brushing his teeth probably much faster than hygienic because he doesn’t really want to risk running into Mr. Miller in the hallway. The game is still roaring below, but he figures it’s better safe than sorry as he slips into the guest room and closes the door.
He debates working on his Biology project, but decides against it. Tonight has been weird, and his brain is far too muddled and his nerves far too frayed to really focus on anything.
Instead, he crawls into the mildly comfortable twin bed and under the oddly patterned quilt, plunging himself into near darkness with the flick of a finger and a little green mist. The string, trailing off the bed and under the door, lights up the room a little, although the glow is still contained enough that it creates no shadows. It’s much brighter than it was when it first appeared, and Exer wonders distantly if that’s a thing that’s going to keep happening.
As if to answer his question, the string shimmers a little more. Exer smiles at it gently, at his one familiar thing in this cold, suffocating house, and tries his best to fall asleep.