Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I hate you.”

I’m stopped dead. Olivia’s words cut through me more deeply than any knife or claw ever could. I felt like I had been gut punched, and the wind escaped my lungs as if her words were a physical force.

My throat grew tight. 

Hate.

She hated me?

I stared at the green gator girl before me. No. That made no sense. This was just some late-night, patented Olivia sarcasm and dark humor. A terrible joke, really. I’d have to admonish her later for the poor taste. But my throat didn’t loosen.

And I wasn’t sure I’d started breathing again yet.

And the look in her eyes was…

We stared at one another, eyes locked. I wasn’t sure how long, but it was at least a full agonizing minute. Likely longer.

Her face wasn’t filled with fury, or spite. Or hurt or any of the emotions I’d come to see Olivia express over the last months.

It was nothing. It was a stare completely bereft of feeling at all.

It was worse than the first times we met, and she tried as hard as possible to look through me completely.

There… was a chance. Yes I… may have caused some of the issues tonight. But if I could just show her my sincerity then we could leave this awful night behind us. I could repair the damage, and get everything moving forward again. She was hurt, and while she frustrated me often, it was understandable. 

This night didn’t go how either of us expected, and it was like her lashing out at the Paynes place. She clearly felt backed into a corner and was striking out at anyone in range. Even me.

And I could forgive her for that. I needed to make my move. To let her know that was the case. I straightened myself up and extended my arms out wide, a smile on my face to show my sincerity.

“Hey… hug it out?”

A new expression.

Pure disgust. 

Another gut punch, but this time I held firm.

Olivia deflates slightly and without saying anything, breaks eye contact and begins rolling towards the elevator nearby. I step in front of her, my arms still spread.

I wouldn’t let her give up that easily. Not anymore. My message was clear: ‘Hug me gator girl, and we’ll work this all out’.

She doesn’t even acknowledge me as she tries to work her way around my blockade.

Sorry, Olivia. Not today.

I cut her off again and lean in, my hands finally landing on her shoulders. My arms snake around her neck and I pull her in as close as I was able with the awkward position.

Her entire body seized immediately at the contact. She began to shake like a leaf in the wind. Is she finally beginning to realize th-

My thought was left incomplete as her hands fiercely grabbed at my back, before working their ways to my elbows. With a strong jerking motion using her superior strength, she easily plied my arms off her as she pushed away instinctively.

My brain began to spin into overdrive.

How could this not have worked? It always works in the movies, right? Apply a little pressure to the disgruntled maiden and she’ll eventually relent and you can work through the issue like adults. So what was her problem?

I looked down at her as my shoved arms cleared my vision. Another new expression. Complete panic. Was my move really that awful? My eyes shifted focus and I realized that she had pushed herself directly towards the stairs.

Adrenaline dumped into my system immediately.

I was NOT about to let my girlfriend accidentally kill herself in a panic over an awkward hug on the night of the winter formal.

Hell. No.

My legs tensed, painfully. I brought my arms down as fast as physically possible towards her outstretched hands. I was never a particularly physical person, but Solly’s gym classes clearly had helped my reflexes. And accuracy.

My hands connected to Olivia’s forearms, and I pulled as hard as possible. Her momentum arrested and she drew closer. Wait, no.

I was falling down the stairs now, too.

I had failed her. Again. Time continued to move in slow motion. A small part of my brain marveled at my ability to take all of this in, in what was honestly only a second or two of time. My eyes never left hers. The expression of panic, pleading for help as we tumbled burned me to my very core.

I had a single option left, and I was all too happy to use it for her.

I turned my torso as hard as possible and yanked both of my arms around and in. I still had a death grip on her forearms. It was time for me to do a little death roll of my own. The weight of her contacting with my center of mass completed my semi-planned roll maneuver with her now above me and me below.

We were almost at the middle landing now, and she’d have me as a cushion. I was OK with that. It’d probably hurt like hell, but maybe we’d get time to talk things out on the ride to the hospital. Maybe that was the moment we needed to sort this awful night out.
My eyes remained locked to hers. I was surprised to find her eyes had gotten even larger than they had been before as realization creeped in at what I was doing.

It’s OK, Olivia, I’m here for y

—

My head swam as it felt like my body was upside down from the orientation of my head. Like I’d fallen through myself and upways was downways and vice versa. 

It was hard to articulate.

After a few moments of horrific disorientation, the sensation slowly subsided. I wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually I felt anchored to the world enough to try opening my eyes.

It was dark. The lights were off, and only a razor thin pale beam of light got past the curtains of the room, casting just enough illumination to light it as my eyes adjusted. Nighttime, clearly. Given how groggy I felt, I had to have been out for a few hours then. The impact must’ve been worse than I thought.

I tried to turn my head, only to find that was fairly impossible. As I tried to pivot my head around without luck, I felt the telltale sensation of a brace around my chin. They immobilized my neck. 

Oh…oh god. Did I break my neck? Was I…?

I forced myself to steady my breathing and tried moving my hand. It wasn’t easy - it felt like I hadn’t moved it in years, but sure enough I was able to will it off the bed and wiggle my fingers in front of my eyes.

It was then I noticed my vision was blurry.

Right. My prescription sunglasses wouldn’t be on. I grunt, resolving to find them after I finish my status-check.

Next my left arm. All good. Then both legs. Also good.

So I wasn’t paralyzed. 

A wave of relief washed over me, shortly followed by a wave of shame. Nice going Inco, panicking because you may have become paralyzed like your girlfriend while saving your girlfriend.

I pressed down the galling thoughts and continued to try and build a sense of what had happened. Obviously I was in a hospital. My neck is immobilized, but otherwise I’m able to move my libs just fine. I was clearly out for several hours.

A neck injury was the likeliest explanation, along with a concussion. I think those can make you pass out? I couldn’t remember anything specific from movies or documentaries I’d watched but that felt plausible.

I didn’t feel any pain though, so maybe it was just a precautionary thing. Other than being really tired, my body honestly felt pretty good, if weirdly tingly.

With a grunt I tried to push myself off the surface of the hospital bed, but my strength quickly left me. Very quickly. I barely had even left the padded surface of it before sinking back down. Ok, sitting position was a no-go then.

I rolled to my right, and that worked decently well. I was now able to see the rest of the hospital room and… it was empty.

I felt disappointed.

I had honestly expected Olivia to be by the bedside, sleeping from her wheelchair draped over the side of it, waiting on baited breath for me to awaken. That’s how it always went in the movies, right?

The Paynes weren’t waiting either. Or…

Or my parents.

That last one didn’t surprise me, certainly, but it did hurt.

I laid back into the bed as tears began to well in my eyes as I forced the sensation down.

Relax, idiot. It’s clearly crazy early in the morning. Visiting hours would be long over. You’re panicking over nothing. Again.

I took several long, calming breaths to steady myself.

Sure, it’s frustrating no one was here to see you wake up, but they’ll see you’re up and going again in a few hours when visiting hours open back up.

I let out a sigh as I managed to convince myself to relax.

I hope Olivia was OK. The last thing I remember is myself definitely being between her and the floor of the landing in the stairs, so she should be safe. She may have gotten some bumps and bruises, but if I took the brunt of it she’d be fine.

Remembering back to how she pushed me away and almost got herself killed sparked a flash of bitterness. The whole evening she was just being pissy and bitter about everything. Sure, looking back I wasn’t helping as much as a boyfriend should have. But that didn’t mean that she-

The heartrate monitor was speeding up enough I took notice of it, pulling me out of the angry thoughts. No. She was deeply troubled. She wasn’t perfect, but it was honest mistakes borne out of grief.

What mattered is that I saved her. I saved her, and we’d have a chance to talk things out. I shuddered at the thought of what could’ve happened if I didn’t grab her in time and pushed those thoughts out of my mind.

She was OK. She had to be.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d stayed there, staring at the unfocused ceiling, exactly. Long enough that the sliver of moonlight was turning into a bright cutting blade of morning sun. I couldn’t get to sleep. Which was weird, since I felt so incredibly tired.

I think I had completely zoned out a few times, but without anything in the room to differentiate the time passing other than the steady beeps of my heart monitor, it all sort of blended together.

At some point someone would probably do the rounds and check on me and I can ask after Olivia. And the Paynes too, I guess. I was still mad at them - Damien especially - but they’d still want to know I was OK.

Sure we left the winter formal on poor terms. And Damien smashed my camera and punched me, but I didn’t want to lorde my injury over them. I was better than that.

At the same time, though, I also couldn’t motivate myself to press the call button on the side of the bed at any point in the last indeterminate hours either. I honestly couldn’t even think of a reason why. It was right next to my hand, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to press it.

Maybe it was some dumb sense of wanting to claw back that movie-esque moment of coming to when someone was around. Maybe I was just trying to force stillness on myself so I could get a bit more sleep.

Or maybe I did want them to feel bad about what happened to me, a little longer.

Another wave of shame.

God. Maybe Damien was right.

Was I just trying to capture another perfect, artistic moment?

Some of the last words I heard from him echoed in my mind.

No, no, I 'get it' perfectly. You think you're an ‘artist’. How could you do this to her, man?

He looked so… hurt. He had been angry at me in that moment, certainly. Enough to destroy my camera. And the pictures from the formal. But as I remembered his words, I remembered the look in his eyes.

Underneath the brewing rage was the look of a man who had been stabbed in the back.

You brought her out of her shell, only to shove her back in.

Had he been right? My mind spiraled, trying to recall everything that had happened that night. Damien had been frustrated before. Hell, he actually had attacked Olivia before we left for the formal. But in that moment at our final confrontation, he looked at me like I was the cause of it all.

I thought back to a moment ago. That sensation of wanting them to be unawares I was awake so I could have the perfect dramatic reveal. I really wanted that. Damien’s expression flashed again in my mind and my head swam again.

How could you do this to her, man?

I couldn’t see well before, but the tears filling my eyes made it fully impossible. I squint my eyes shut and hold my breath but it’s a lost cause. I cried, as quietly as possible in a completely empty room.

When was the last time I cried? I think it was with Olivia at some point? Before… everything else happened. Before we lost Mr. Iada-

Remembering his name sent a fresh flash of guilt through me.

Oh god. Mr. Iadakan. I’m so sorry. What I helped do to Olivia…

I lost myself to my quiet sobs.

More time passed. Hard to say how long I cried. I like to imagine it was a reasonably manly amount, but frankly it probably wasn’t. And I wouldn’t know what a ‘right’ amount of crying would even be anyways.

I ran out of tears and eventually my breath steadied. The warm orange scar on the far wall of the room had moved a small ways, so it probably wasn’t that long. I hope someone came soo-

Before I could even finish the thought, a soft knock on the door. I tried to mumble out an answer, but between lying in bed for hours now and my recent crying session, my throat was impossibly dry and I couldn’t manage more than a quiet, gravely grunt.

After a moment of no apparent response, the door slid open and the nurse doing her rounds entered the room. The goldenrod-colored stegosaurus strolled towards the bed, but stopped about half way when she realized that I was awake and staring at her. She only had paused a beat before continuing the rest of the way to the bed.

“Oh! We’re awake! That is excellent news! I just need to check a few things and then we can have the doctor in here in a jiffy to check in on you. Ok? How are you feeling?”

I managed to clear my throat and then gave a coarse, but more proper response.

“Good”.

She paused her fidgeting with the IV line and looked down at me.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said I’m good.”

Her brow furrowed. An odd response.

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked.

I felt my own brow furrowing in response to the inane question.

“Inco G. Nito.”

Her expression cascaded to a full frown now. My heart rate began to pick up. What was her problem?

She leaned down slightly and held up three fingers.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” I confirmed.

She shook her head. 

“Please mirror my gesture, if you can.”

This time I rolled my eyes and let out a huff. Whatever her deal was, it was beginning to get annoying, rather than worrying. I lifted my arm and flashed her three fingers in reply, as she asked. Unfortunately this didn’t do much to dissipate her dark expression. 

I knew I had been pretty injured, between the neck brace and the bandages I’d felt out earlier on most of my head. Even the black eye that Damien had given me. Did I really look that bad once she got a glance at me? Was there something wrong I couldn’t see?

“You relax right here, and I’ll be back with the doctor soon, ok?” her voice had taken a soft, comforting coo.

She also had bled off the dark expression for a practiced ‘this will make you feel comfortable’ one, which - if I’m being honest - didn’t work at all. She quickly moved out of the room and the door slid closed behind her.

The hell was that about?

I touched a hand to the bandages and pulled it away expecting to see a hand covered in seeping blood or something, but it came back clean. My black eye seared when I touched it, but I doubt that was anything special either.

It was gnawing at me now. What was her deal? Was I going to have to get up and dance to show I was fine? All I could do was wait. And I was getting very tired of waiting by myself.

Fortunately, it was only a few scant moments as far as I could tell before another knock at the door. I replied a vague “yeah” at it, and a moment later it swung open.

Unlike the stego that was the nurse, my doctor was a bright red Parasaurus. The scales hue was strikingly reminiscent of Mia’s but my doctor was both male and also not covered in sharpened spines.

So that was nice at least. And it made sense, too. Wouldn’t want a doctor that could cause even more injuries just by turning around. I could feel my face tightening into a frown as I remembered when I last talked to Mia before everything fell apart.

She was so smug. So assured that she knew everything about Olivia.

“Hello there, we haven’t met properly yet. My name is Doctor Niket. How are you feeling today, Inco?”

“Like I said before. Fine.”

Clearly my response didn’t match the scowl on my face. The doctor muttered something to the nurse I didn’t catch before she left the room.

“Inco, do you remember what happened?” he asked, his brilliant blue eyes were locked onto me.

“Mostly, yeah.”

The doctor’s face darkened more.

“Can you understand what I’m saying?”

“Ok, what is going on doc? Why’s everyone treating me like something’s wrong? I feel FINE.”

As my temper flared and I moved to raise my voice, I noticed then that the shout didn’t feel quite right.

“Inco. Nod if you understand what I am saying.”

The cold, serious tone in Dr. Niket’s voice commanded my full attention.

Slowly and deliberately I nodded once in confirmation.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes.” this time I combined with a nod to emphasize.

The doctor let out a small sigh I don’t think I was supposed to notice.

“Ok. Inco, I need you to listen to me.”

I stiffened up at the new shift in tone. If I had thought he was serious before, it was worse now. I watched him as he pulled one of the sitting chairs and situated himself next to me.

“Inco, you have been unconscious for three days now.”

Oh. That sounded bad. Like. Really, really bad.

“Your friends and their family were here when you’d arrived, but after we patched you up and you didn’t regain consciousness we had them go home to rest. Your parents arrived the morning after, but you, again, missed them.”

So my parents DID visit. That was… something, at least.

“I told the nurse to contact them so they can be here for you. There’s some important information about what happened to you that they’ll want to hear as well.”

I reflexively felt myself frown with worry at that phrasing.

“Your life isn’t in danger, but as you suspected, you were injured quite severely. And with you still unconscious we couldn’t establish the full scope of your condition.”

That made some sense, at least.

A moment later, the nurse knocked, was granted entry, but only popped her head in the room enough to give a frown and a shake of her head. And I knew what that meant. They couldn’t get a hold of my parents. Wonderful.

“I apologize, Inco, we appear to be unable to contact your parents at this time. Do you know if there is another way to contact them? Or do you have another emergency contact? The Paynes had offered themselves, but your parents were disinclined to allow people outside the family to act as a contact.”

I wanted to be disappointed that my parents apparently stonewalled the Paynes being a point of contact for me before pissing off to yet another business trip while I was in a coma. In fact. I was. I was absolutely livid. But I tamped that feeling down for now. The screaming could happen later. What mattered right now was that first part.

The Paynes offered themselves as emergency contacts.

Just… what?

After what had happened at their place before the formal? After I watched their whole family unit melt down in front of me? No doubt Damien told them his side of the story of what I had done too.

And even then?

Tears began to well in my eyes again.

Why couldn’t they have been my real family? Maybe this would have turned out different. I forced myself to be composed once again, and the Doctor gave me the time I needed.

He held out a notepad and pen to me as I went to answer.

“You can write it down here and we’ll see to it they're contacted,” he said with a practiced, gentle smile.

I nodded and quickly wrote down Damien’s number. If I tried hard enough I could probably remember the Payne’s house phone number, but I was too tired. And Olivia… I couldn’t bring myself to deal with that yet. I wanted to tell her I was OK, and that it wasn’t her fault but having the doctor call her felt wrong.

She should hear things from me.

She should hear an apology first and foremost.

The doctor took the scrawled out contact info and informed me they would contact them immediately. He said that once they got here he would go over the details of what had happened, but in the meantime I should rest.

“You need it.” he said.

And I felt it. I had been awake for hours now after apparently coming out of a three day coma. And I felt exhausted.

“Wake me when they get here,” I mumbled at the doctor as he exited the room.

And then sleep overtook me.

—

When I awoke, it was certainly later in the day. And I realized quickly I had company. I turned to my side and found Ra- Mr. Payne sitting in the chair nearby, reading a book.

I shifted and tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes before muttering a hello. This got his attention and he practically threw the book into the chair as he stood.

“Inco! Thank god. The doctor said you’d woken up but you’d gone back to sleep by the time I got here.”

He looked quite flustered. Which was to be expected, I guessed. I may have soured my relations with the Paynes, but no one really wants to see a… friend of the family die. Or at least end up in a coma. I didn’t like seeing him like this, but I did appreciate that he cared.

He fumbled a bit and pressed the call button and then turned back to me.

“How are you feeling, son?”

“Tired. But OK.”

Mr. Payne adopted a frown now as well. I was beginning to greatly dislike this pattern that was forming.

“Inco, are you-”

“Ah, Inco. Good to see you’re awake!” Dr. Niket called.

Neither I nor Mr. Payne had heard the knock, he must’ve been close by.

“Heya doc,” Mr. Payne returned.

“Please, have a seat. We have important matters to discuss, and as Inco has chosen for you to act as his emergency point of contact while his parents are… unavailable. You’ll need to hear this as well,” the doctor began.

“What do you mean ‘unavailable’. My understanding is that they were visiting Inco,” Mr. Payne adopted a slight sneer.

“Visited. They visited for a short while after the first night, but have since been unavailable. As such, Inco has deferred to you as his point of contact in the meantime,” Niket explained, cooly.

“Probably on a business trip again. It happens a lot. It’s fine,” I offered.

It wasn’t. Especially today. But there was nothing I could do about them now. My response clearly caught their attention, but it didn’t seem to make either of them feel better.

“That acts as a good segue to the important matters.”

What.

“Inco, as I told you before, you had been unconscious for 3 days. The root cause of this was a traumatic brain injury when you landed.”

“So then my neck brace..” I began to say, reaching up to touch it.

“The neck brace is there because you injured your neck as well. Thankfully nothing severe, but it appears that when you landed, you had your friend’s wheelchair under you at the bottom of the stairs. On impact it twisted your neck before your head made contract with the floor. We don’t believe the neck injury to be critical, but it was immobilized to give your body time to heal,” he explained.

Mr. Payne had taken up sentry next to the bed and had a comforting hand placed on my shoulder.

“A far more serious matter is the brain injury. This can manifest symptoms in a multitude of ways, and becomes a critical concern when the patient does not easily wake after being knocked unconscious. Like you were. We did scans and noted some trauma to the brain in addition to the rather nasty cuts you suffered. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a full scope of the impact of your injury until you awoke.”

All I could do was nod as my stomach sank. I had actually suffered brain damage? But I felt fine. Was I lucky? 

No. That couldn’t be. Everyone’s expressions today made that an impossibility.

“I’ve called for a Speech-Language Pathologist to give you a visit to administer proper tests, he should arrive tomorrow. But based on your responses I have a suspicion you’re suffering from Dysarthria.”

I couldn’t help but tilt my head in confusion. That term meant nothing to me.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It is exactly what you just did.”

What.

“Inco. I want you to repeat after me, but really listen to yourself. I know today has been quite a whirlwind, but this is important, OK?”

I nodded, swallowing back a gnawing fear.

“Hello. My name is Inco G Nito.”

I took a breath and slowly repeated the words back to him, afraid of that sentence. Like it was a magic spell that would break some illusion I was under.

“Hehh. Mh nm ih Inkh Gh Nthuh”

Oh. Oh god. What was that?

“Whuh?”

I hadn’t really listened to myself talk until now. I don’t think people really DO that. But at the doctor’s behest I was really listening to the sounds I was making and it sounded like I had 200 cotton balls in my mouth.

I could feel my breathing quicken. I tried to ask him another question, but it only came out in a strangled squeak.

“Inco, listen to me, please.”

I nodded, my eyes misting again. 

“Dysarthria is a condition in which the subject has difficulty speaking. The Pathologist will be able to properly diagnose your condition, but as far as I can see, you can understand what’s being said to you well enough, and you were able to clearly write the Paynes’ contact info down. I don’t believe your ability to understand or use language to be damaged, but your ability to speak it has.”

I reflexively croaked out another meaningless noise dribble. I felt Mr. Payne’s hand tighten on my shoulder, attempting to give me strength. I had felt alright about managing to control my emotions early in the morning, when I was by myself. But I couldn’t keep myself together anymore.

The tears flowed freely and I felt myself folding forward as I sobbed. Mr. Payne scooped me into his arms like I was his own child and whispered comforting words to me. I was a broken person now. I was broken.

I wondered if this is how Olivia felt when she realized she couldn- God. What a shitty thing to think. I squashed down that comparison as hard as I could. Olivia hated being seen by her condition. And my first thought was to…

No wonder she said she hated me.

Eventually the wells ran dry and I reflexively wiped my eyes only to suffer a jolt of pain as I thoughtlessly rubbed my black eye. Mr. Payne took proper stock of it with a frown.

“That boy’s going to get a talking to when I get home,” Mr. Payne mumbled under his breath.

I grabbed his arm to get his attention and tried to explain that Damien was innocent. Unfortunately the words barely flopped limply out of my mouth. I couldn’t get my jaw and lips to move properly.

I shook my head in frustration.

“Doc. Nohhad,” I said, thrusting a hand out at him.

To his credit, it only took him a moment to realize the request, and he handed over the notepad and pen again. Rand-Mr. Payne realized what the game plan was immediately and even offered me a small, but warm smile.

I had no idea what Damien had told his dad. I… didn’t want to dig into all the details yet. Not before I had time to process my own thoughts. There was so much I didn’t understand about what had happened at the winter formal. So many blind spots. I needed… I needed more time.

But Damien shouldn’t be punished for what he did. For being a good brother to his sister.

Fuck Inco from the winter formal. Damien was a damned good brother.

I frowned as I thought about those last moments and quickly scrawled on the pad my response.

“Damien did nothing wrong. I deserved it.”

Ra-Mr. Payne’s eyes flicked from the pad, to my eyes, and then away. He was clearly trying to put the pieces together. He frowned, but relented the point for now and let out a sigh.

“Ok, son. We’ll talk about it later. So, Doc. What happens now?” Mr. Payne said, returning his attention to the physician.

“As I had said, the specialist that can administer the proper tests will be here tomorrow. So in the mean time we’ll focus on getting you back up to full strength otherwise. While the main symptom may be to your ability to speak, that brain injury is no joke in other ways, too. So, we’ll be focusing on speeding your recovery. The most important thing for the moment is to rest,” he answered.

Rand-Mr. Payne’s hand returned to my shoulder and he offered a weak smile.

“Good. That’s good. If there’s anything you need doc, and I mean anything, 24/7. Give me a call,” Mr. Payne said, his voice issued as a command.

“Of course. I’ll let you two be for now and check back in on you in an hour. You’ll certainly be hungry soon,” Dr. Niket said with a final soft smile before quietly leaving the room.

Mr. Payne took his seat and looked at me dead in the eyes.

“How are you holding up, son? You’ve… had a pretty rough go of it.”

I could feel my throat tighten up again. I was so awful to them all and here he is, caring about me.

“Mihuh Pahnh…” I fumbled my speech again.

This would take a lot of getting used to.

“Woah now, son. I told you before. Call me Randy. Here,” he gently chided my faux pas, before placing the notepad back in my hands.

I didn’t deserve it. I really didn’t. I stretched his family home to the breaking point, nearly killed his goddaughter, and made his blood son hate me. And even now, I could only see fatherly warmth in his eyes. I wish I knew what that had been like before now. I didn’t know what I was going to do, or how I was going to do it. But I was going to make things right by this man and his family. 

I didn’t care if it took me the rest of my life. 

We would certainly go over the painful details of what happened later, but for now, I was happy to experience actual familial love for the first time since I could remember.

I took up the pen again and scratched out my reply.

“Thanks, Randy.”

He beamed.

“Any time, son.”

Food arrived shortly after and even being hospital food I was ravenous. I think I gave Olivia a run for her money in how quickly and violently I ended the food on the tray. While I ate, Randy talked to the staff to get my belongings returned to me now that I was awake.

After eating, I felt the other half of the digestive system rumbling to life and moved to get myself out of bed properly. They had detached the IV line previously, so I was free and untethered. Unfortunately the trip to the other side of the room where the bathroom was proved to be too much of an excursion for me so soon after awakening, my legs giving out almost immediately.

Randy arrived back in the room to see me at the base of the bed and after a brief freakout with me vigorously shaking my hand and gesturing, he realized what had happened. A nurse arrived shortly after and he helped me work my way over to the bathroom where I was able to relieve myself.

My legs definitely were still working, but I was clearly still quite weakened and would take a bit of time to get my energy back up. Another small flash of guilt at the sensation of relief that came with the realization I could, in fact, still walk. Nice work Inco, continuing to prove you’re a real piece of work.

My expedition concluded, I was back in bed and recuperating when Randy drew my attention.

“Hey, son. They tell me your old clothes were a total loss. Apparently the jacket, shirt and pants were contaminated with blood from the head injury and were disposed of. They had your shoes and socks but I wasn’t sure how much you cared.”

I had a moment of bemusement. The loss of the clothes was sad, certainly, but I don’t think Randy realized how much of a loss it was price-tag wise. The Paynes certainly weren’t poor by any stretch, but they also had to pinch pennies in some places. He’d probably balk at hearing the prices of the clothing items.

He may faint if he was told that the socks, which were saved, were the most expensive component of my formal outfit.

I had a flash recollection of when me and Olivia detoured to grab her a new dress after Vinny ruined… after Vinny had an accident and she needed a new one. I was paying for the new dress and Olivia nearly passed out in her wheelchair when she realized the dress she had picked out was over a grand.

A smile creeped across my face for only an instant, then died when I remembered how… unimpressed I was at her selection. She liked the look of it, but I…

Um... That looks okay…

I was so dismissive. She didn’t… I had thought she was picking wrong before she had even showed me the dress she’d selected. She liked it, and my first thought was how she had picked the wrong one.

I didn’t even consider how it looked on her. It was just the ‘wrong kind of dress’.

“Inco?”

I could feel my face tweaking into a frown as my brain made another leap connection. It wasn’t even the first time I was so smug and dismissive. Other times when I had to butt my opinion in when people were enjoying themselves. Like I had any idea or opinion of my own worth listening to. Like my opinion was the one that actually mattered.

My frown grew into a sneer as I considered how many times I’d done that in the past, my hands clenching down on my blanket until my knuckles turned white. 

“Inco!” Randy said again, bringing me back to the moment, “What’s wrong, son. You’re looking pretty worked up. Let me call a nu-”

I dismissed the idea with a wave of my hand, and then scratched out a note to him.

“The clothes don’t matter. It’s fine.”

I don’t think he believed it was fine, but he let it drop for the moment.

“You did have a spare of your sunglasses in your jacket pocket that made it out OK though,” he said with a small smile, and handed over the spectacles.

I nodded and returned him a weak smile of my own and donned the eyewear. At least I could see normally again. After a beat, Randy continued.

“Michael, ah, Mr. Ferris, said your phone was unfortunately a total loss, but he was able to find your wallet. He was pretty adamant on securing it in case it held any medical info.”

The final article was turned back over to me. I checked it, finding my ID, cards and cash intact. I didn’t actually think Mr. Ferris would rob me, but I had the knee-jerk reaction to check. Another wave of guilt and shame.

“My phone broke?” I wrote out.

“Apparently you landed directly on it in your pocket. Whole thing came apart,” Randy answered, “We were only able to call your father because of the school records Principal Scaler dug up. Fortunately, she was quick about it and called them up and… well. You know your parents paid you a visit.”

He offered the last bit in an attempt at comforting me, but I knew he was angry. I was right there with him. They visited all right. They visited and then hopped on a plane to go on a business trip again. Hell, maybe they were taking a vacation now that they thought I was in a coma and they could spend even less effort on me. My frown returned.

“Sorry, son.”

I dismissed his apology again.

“You did more than I deserve, Randy,” I scratched down.

He read the note, and his face immediately contorted into a pained expression, as if I had struck him in the face.

“Inco. You listen to me now,” he spoke with a low intensity that made me straighten up in the bed, and be brought a hand to each of my shoulders to center my focus on him.

“You are a troubled young man, certainly. And I… am not going to lie and say you haven’t made mistakes. But never suggest again that you are unworthy of being cared for. Do you understand me?”

The dilophosaurus’s frills quivered, as if it was taking him a great effort to keep them under control.

I forced myself to swallow down the slight fear sensation, my mind falling back to when Damien attacked me.

“Yeh suhh,” I vocalized alongside a slight nod to emphasize my understanding.

His face lightened after another moment of scrutiny.

“Good. That’s good. We… never really knew how things were for you. It’s a failing of your-... I don’t plan to allow it to continue,” he said with conviction.

I believed him when he said it. I didn’t believe I was worthy of that conviction, but I knew Randy was being honest with me in his intent. My throat tightened up again for a moment, but I managed to keep my eyes from watering.

Randy was an incredible person.

After some - from the outside, likely amusing -  bickering, I managed to convince Randy to take my ID, my credit card, and a hand written note with my account code to pick up a new phone. He didn’t seem like the technical sort - not to slight the man - so I just told him to go with whatever the sales rep suggested.

He didn’t like the idea of me buying something sight unseen, for likely over a thousand dollars, but I refused to let him pay for it. I had even threatened to walk myself out of the hospital and buy it myself if he was going to fight me on that point, which ultimately got him to relent.

It was a good thing he did, because I don’t think I’d have managed to make it past the door of the room if I’d tried.

I probably had a little over an hour to myself again as he ran his errand and it let me have some time to think. Randy being here for me was a measure of support I didn’t likely deserve, but I could also tell it’s what I needed.

It was mid afternoon now. The doctor said a specialist would be by tomorrow, so it sounded like that aside, I had pretty much nothing to do for the rest of the day but focus on getting better.

And by that, I meant focus on what I did wrong.

Randy was probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. That he would go out of his way to be here all day for me, some random entitled human douche that had a kinda-attachment to his family, spoke incredibly for his character.

Going off what the doctor had said prior, ‘The Paynes’ had visited, so likely at least also Sophia had dropped in, though she hadn’t appeared at all today otherwise. Of course, she was likely holding down the fort back at their place. Olivia likely wasn’t in a good state of mind, but given that Randy hadn’t said anything happened to her, she’s likely at home. If Damien and Vinny were also at home… then Sophia was probably there to keep the peace.

Not that I was worth her coming all the way up to visit me in the hospital regardless.

The formal, obviously, had been a shocking trainwreck. Downright cataclysmic. It was supposed to have been the night Everything Got Better. And instead I’m pretty sure I destroyed my friendship with Damien, made my girlfriend break up with me, almost got her to kill herself, and gave myself literal brain damage.

If there was a contest for worst school formal nights ever, this one may well have taken first place.

But WHY had it gone so bad. I had done everything right. …Right? I got the nice outfit. I paid for the limo - not just for me and Olivia, but Damien and Liz too. Damien and Liz looked great, and even Olivia had looked lovely in her dress. Her original dress.

Vinny had been sick and the acid sneeze ruined her dress which set off the explosive argument we departed on, but who can actually blame the kid for being sick? That’d just be crazy. No. Vinny certainly wasn’t to blame.

Damien had said that he got sick staying up late. Which happened after… Olivia had told him to ‘fuck off’.

My brow furrowed. Did it really come down to Olivia? No. Think. Remember. What had happened before that… the date. Oh god. The date. I pressed my palms to my eyes and groaned in first, second and third hand embarrassment of my own self, ignoring the pain from my black eye.

We had that disastrous date. One of my favorite influencers showed up drunk and making an ass of himself. Mr. Ferris had made a suggestion of a date location but I changed it to the mall because I was oh-so-clever and going to show her the sort of entertainment I was into. Unprompted, sight unseen.

I remembered seeing her expression of sheer boredom and disinterest.

If I had talked to her instead of trying to be the clever, spontaneous boyfriend I wasn’t, she could’ve just suggested something she’d have enjoyed and it would’ve been a good day. Instead the day bombed and I felt so bad about it I ended the date early, wasting both of our times. We made that detour to go shopping, but even that created pangs of anger directed at my past self. I kept recommending things I thought she’d like, as if I had any actual idea. And then… God damn it, yet again, when she was actually happy with buying that old retro style game ‘Inco the know it all’ only held disdain for it.

I’d actually done something to make her the slightest bit happy and in the moment all I felt was disappointed she was happy about the wrong thing. Then we got home after I wasted both of our times, she yelled at Vinny, who was just trying to be a good younger brother. Damien and him went for a late night walk to the gas station and then… then he sneezed acid on Olivia’s dress.

I could feel my face having fully contorted into a sneer now. Not at Vinny, and not at Olivia. Certainly not at Damien. I was sneering at myself. God, Inco, you fucking suck. I took some time to calm myself down before continuing.

Yes, I agree, me, I’m an awful person. But we can save up all this self hatred for later. That wasn’t the start of this whole mess. It may have been the biggest domino, but that certainly wasn’t the start.

What had happened before that?

Olivia had been more depressed and reclusive than ever. I had… not been spending as much time as I should have with her. Her moroseness would make me feel unwelcome and tired, and I would just… go home.

My girlfriend was sad and miserable, and that made ME sad, so I would just go home. I would abandon her to her room, and her isolation. If I had stayed, and talked to her more, I could have gotten her to open up a bit. Break out from her funk. Everyone kept telling me I was the only one she responded to that way. I was the one that got her to break out of her shell.

You brought her out of her shell, only to shove her back in.

Damien’s words entered my mind again. God, Damien. You were right. She had been so happy. I got her to open up, and we had fun. Working on paintings, the arcade. Hanging out at the Paynes’ house and playing video games - even if I sucked at them. She was such a bright and happy person in that time.

And then…

And then we lost Iadakan.

We had our heart to heart by the fountain and even confessed to one another. We started dating and I was so happy, but… she clearly wasn’t OK. I don’t think I was either, but I only lost a mentor I’d known for a few months. Olivia had lost a father figure.

My mind walked through what interactions I could remember after we hooked up. It was generally good, but there was a constant tone about Olivia. She engaged with her art less. We didn’t talk about those difficult subjects. We just… glossed over it and hoped it would work out OK.

And that glossing let me force her uphold her agreement to Ben about the eulogy. Wait…no. That wasn’t what happened, was it.

I strained my mind to try and remember our discussion with Ben in that hallway. I’d only learned about Iadakan’s death minutes before, but that pain sharpened my recollection. I found Olivia, cornered by Ben. He seemed utterly fraught and wanting to memorialize Iadakan. I thought that was a good idea, but Olivia didn’t seem interested.

I was baffled at the time. Olivia, of all people, didn’t want to do a eulogy for her mentor? It didn’t make sense to me and I… I pressured her. I pressured her into agreeing on the spot. Minutes after she had found out he had died.

I had picked Ben over Olivia in that moment.

My chest clenched at that realization. 

The door to the room slid open and I nearly cleared the bed when I started.

“Woah, son. Sorry, didn’t mean to…” Randy began, stopping midway as he scruitinized me, “Inco, are you OK?”

This man was way too good at being able to read my face, even with my sunglasses.

“I’m fine No. Not really. But we can talk about it later,” I scratch out on my notepad and point it to him.

He sighs and shakes his head at the dismissal, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue, before clearing the rest of the distance and gingerly places a bag in my lap.

“I went with the sales guy’s recommendation, but I’m not going to lie, I nearly had heart palpitations when he said the price,” Randy said with a chuckle.

I pulled out the new phone and tapped the power button. It was already set up and had service. It looked like even my apps and files had been restored from their backups.

“Thanks, Randy. This means a lot,” I noted with a smile.

“Hey, it was your money. My first impulse was to just get one of those little flip jobbers,” he replied, miming the action of a flip phone.

That got a good chuckle out of me.

If he was balking at the price of the phone, he’d probably be angry at what I planned to do with my next purchase, but that was for later.

“So, you wanna talk about…” he prompted, gesturing vaguely at me.

I thought about it for a minute. I felt I was making some good progress in piecing together what had gone wrong, but I’m also only me. And Inco was objectively, provably, really stupid. Maybe this is one of those times people normally seek fatherly advice?

I nodded, and prepped a new page on the notepad. It was… difficult to formulate what I wanted to write down, but Randy gave me all the time I needed. After several minutes of quiet deliberation, starting writing and then scribbling it out when I changed my mind, I finally settled on a deceptively simple question.

“Is all of this my fault?”

God, seeing Randy’s breath hitch upon reading that question hurt. I don’t think he deserved having to have that question fielded at him, but I didn’t know who else to ask. I could tell his first impulse was to immediately tell me ‘no’, but to his credit, he caught himself. I was a kid - on a good day maybe even part of his family - and had come to him for honest advice.

And he didn’t want to sell my feelings short. The world really didn’t deserve the Paynes.

He took several minutes ruminating on things himself. I suspect he had tried to push them from his mind over the last days in order to achieve some level of stability, but if we were going to fix things - make things go back to normal - the bandaid needed to come off now.

“I… believe you are partly the cause, yes,” he finally answered.

His voice was slow and even. Deliberate. He was staying as far away from an accusatory tone as he could.

“That said, I’ve been thinking about things myself lately. And I’ve talked with Soph as well. We… had an argument after you kids left for the formal.”

Another pang of guilt.

“It wasn’t a screaming match or anything, but I think we both realized everything was fraying apart. Olivia, Vinny, Damien… you. Our house had been a refuge for you all against the unfairness of the real world, and that refuge was falling apart around us.”

He pinched the bridge of his snout in frustration, recalling the events.

“I hadn’t ever really seriously planned to kick Olivia out when she graduated. I don’t think Soph had seriously considered it either until just before the formal. We hated even broaching the topic. I could live with her dad hating us for the rest of our lives. But the idea of just throwing Olivia out into the world and washing our hands of her?”

I watched this titan of kindness grip at his chest, as if he was suffering a heart attack.

“It revolted me. I know Soph despised it as well. We both love that girl. But Soph was always the more pragmatic one of us. And she saw where things were headed. She noted that Vinny, Damien, and even Liz were miserable with the way she was acting. She… was bringing us all down in her suffering. Soph wanted to… save those that could be saved,” he said, barely even whispering the last words.

“We were at our wits end with her. We started… well, we didn’t yell. Vinny was already in a bad way at the time, but we came close a few times. As we worked through what was going on, we realized that the status quo changed when you entered the picture.”

He raised his head and looked at me.

“At first, it was great. She was coming out of her shell. You got her to come and hang with everyone at the party, and she genuinely seemed to be happier than I’d seen her in years. But then her teacher passed away. Mr. Iadakan. I know how much he meant to her. I have a suspicion he meant more to her than me or Soph ever will. Even that doesn’t bother me as long as that poor girl is happy.”

He paused for a moment to rub his eyes. He was fighting his own emotions too, now. My eyes had long ago began misting up.

“But that also meant that we couldn’t do anything. Me and Soph tried to give her space. We figured you and Damien would be able to work things through with her. But she didn’t get better. She grew more and more isolated. She’d come out of her room less. She’d eat less. We certainly couldn’t force her to do those things. And you…”

He let slip a growl for a moment before catching it.

“You didn’t do anything. You tried, I think. You were coming over regularly, but almost every time you’d go in to talk to her, you’d have retreated back out to hang out with Damien or go home. Me and Soph should have realized that even if you had gotten her to open up originally, you weren’t equipped to handle what was currently happening. It was stupid of us. If we couldn’t help her, why did we put it all on you?”

He leaned forward and ran his claws through his short hair and let out a long sigh.

“I could feel myself growing more frustrated with the two of you. Which was an awful thing to realize. You were two kids who had just lost someone important to you. I could recognize you were suffering, but we didn’t know what to do. We had discussed enrolling Olivia in therapy, but when we looked into it, we… There was no way we were going to be able to afford it,” Randy hissed.

More guilt. That hadn’t even occurred to me. I remember Mr. Ferris even mentioning when he broke the news about Iadakan that there were counseling services. Maybe I could’ve helped with that. Get her professional help. Certainly someone more capable than the idiot that was me. Instead I was screwing around, thinking about buying her fancy toys, and taking her on failed dates.

Randy took a deep breath and then let it out slowly and quietly before speaking again.

“To answer your question, Inco. I think you had a hand in this, yes. But I don’t think you’re to blame. Me and Soph certainly did our part in making this mess. It would be cruel and wrong to put all the responsibility on you.”

We sat in silence for a short while. I didn’t know what else to say. He and Sophia had clearly discussed this at length already. My revelations about the events leading up to the winter formal were ones others had made long ago. While I felt slightly heartened that he didn’t blame me, I also couldn’t say I really agreed with him. 

If I had never entered Olivia’s life, then she would’ve been sad, but she wouldn’t have had her entire life fall apart around her.

After letting the mood settle a little, I scratched out another question.

“How is everyone right now?”

“Hrm. Well, I’m here, of course. We’re not going to leave you hanging out in the wind. Soph’s keeping things as stable as possible at home. Damien and Olivia were… not OK at the end of the night. Damien’s… well, he’s putting on a brave face. Trying to make things feel normal. He’s a great kid, always trying to pick up the slack for the family.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“Olivia is doing… poorly. She only seems to come out of her room after everyone’s gone to bed. She doesn’t respond when we talk to her. I’ve checked her room when she’s in the bathroom and… well, she really had a go at the place. Me and Soph have tried talking to her. Heck, even Damien’s tried extending an olive branch. But she’s completely walled herself up now. I don’t think she’s physically hurt herself, but I… it feels like she’s given up.”

He shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Unfortunately, I had somewhat expected that news, given how she was behaving before the formal happened. The events of it would have only solidified it. And even if she did hate me by the end, I could see her blaming herself for me nearly dying.

“I couldn’t tell you what she’s thinking right now, Inco, sorry. Vinny is doing a little better. His cold broke, I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear.”

I did light up a little at that bit of news. It really was actually one of the first positives I’ve heard for a while.

“Me and Soph are keeping him busy to try and keep his mind off what had happened with Olivia, but the kid keeps a wide berth of her room now. I think it’s about the best we can hope for for the moment.”

“How’s Liz?” I jot down.

“Damien didn’t say much about her since the formal, but as far as I know she’s doing about as well as can be expected.”

I nod. Liz certainly deserved better than what’s been heaped upon her lately. I definitely had a hand in that, too.

We spend a little more time making small talk. I even found out that Randy had called into work because ‘his son was in the hospital’.

“They never asked to specify which son!” he clarified with a hearty laugh.

I didn’t deserve the honor of being referenced that way, but I couldn’t help but feel happy he went out of his way like this to be here for me.

“Don’t you worry, son. I’ll be here tomorrow too. You’ll talk to that specialist, we’ll get you on a treatment program and you’ll be right as rain again in no time!” he said, brimming with fatherly confidence.

I could only sheepishly smile and scratch at my bandaged head. This family was too pure.

Our conversation was interrupted when there was a knock on the door. Randy called out in the affirmative, but when no response came, he shot me a confused look, which I returned. After a heartbeat he huffed, and lifted himself out of the chair and went to the door and opened it. I could see the dino start a little, and was whispering something to the person in the hall. After a moment of discussion about…whatever that was about, Randy looked back at me.

“I’ll be right outside, OK, Inco?” he said.

I could only nod in confusion.

I watched him slip out of the room, leaving the door ajar. I was beginning to get concerned with what was about to happen, when a salmon colored snout slid into the gap in the door.

“Yo. Inky. You in here, man?” the snoot whispered, like it was some kind of secret meeting.

Damien was here. Damien was here and he wanted to visit me.

I slurred out a “yeah”, which seemed to be enough acknowledgement that he felt comfortable pulling the door open and entering, letting the door clack shut behind him.

Good god, he had seen better days.

Damien looked like he hadn’t slept since the formal. His eyes had dark bags under them, worse than Olivia’s ever were, and his frills were in disarray. His normally slicked back hair was all over the place.

To his credit, his clothes were clean. Unfortunately, I also noticed his arm in a sling at the same time and couldn’t help but winch.

“Oh, this? It was from when… when Mr. Ferris stopped me. From trying to cave your face in,” Damien answered before I could ask.

I remember hearing Damien’s joint pop as Ferris had pulled him back. It must’ve dislocated something. I’d have words about that with Ferris later.

“It’s… I… uh,” he was tripping over his own words. 

He had stopped only a few steps into the room and clearly wasn’t sure where to start this conversation. He probably thought I hated him. If I didn’t have this time to think, maybe I still would. But no. No, Damien, I don’t hate you, man.

I gestured to the seat Randy had been using next to the bed with a little bit of a smile. Damien stared at me, then at the chair before finally moving to take it.

“Thanks, dude.”

I nodded.

“So… Dad had called earlier saying you were awake for a while now. Uh… how are you feeling?”

My first impulse was to try and talk, so he could hear my slurred words. My first impulse was by that asshole I was currently trying to rid myself of. Damien clearly had spent the last days running himself ragged, and doing something as assholish as lording my condition over him for… guilt? Pity? Was something only a monster would do.

And I needed to be better than that.

I offered him an easy shrug, and then grabbed my notepad, and jotted down a simple reply.

“Better than I’d expected”

Damien read it, and took several moments to process why I’d written it down. His eyes flitted from the notepad scrawl, to my eyes, to my bandaged head.

“Oh… oh, fuck. Inco, I’m so…”

I held up a hand to stop that line of thinking.

“It’s fine. You did what you were supposed to. The rest of this is on me,” I scratched down and showed him.

To his credit, he held himself together well. I could see his eyes misting up, but he didn’t let himself lose composure. Whether because he was just that strong, or if because he’d already run out of tears over the last few days I’ll probably never know. Not that it changed my opinion of him in the least.

The ragged dilophosaurus in front of me deserved at least what small bright spot I could provide him. Anything I’d likely be able to throw at him - not that I wanted to anymore - he’d probably subjected himself to over and over since that night. I had a long way to go on my recovery, both with my condition - if it was treatable at all - and on mending the damage I’d caused to the people around me. But I could start with the man I once could’ve called my best friend.

“Hey,” I noted at him.

“Hm?” he refocused his attention to me after finishing wiping at his eyes.

“Think they’d let you rig up one of your consoles to the TV in here?” I wrote.

He was perplexed for a moment. He read the note, then looked up at the small TV that was suspended in the upper corner of the room. After a moment of staring at it, a smile tugged at the edge of his face. A small one, but it was definitely there.

He crossed his arms in contemplation before finally turning back to me and replying.

“I think the TV may be a little small.”

I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh, as a smile also took to my face.

“Seriously though, man. How are you holding up? You actually look worse than when Mia pegged you with that dodgeball on the first day.”

I groaned, remembering my debut at St. Hammond’s. Mia concussed me with a dodgeball and Coach Solly finished me off because I ‘gave up’. I guess he never got the memo that one shouldn’t keep playing dodgeball after taking head trauma.

My groan turned into a soft laugh as my hand lifted and touched the bandages on my scalp. They were keeping me pretty regularly dosed with pain meds - the good stuff - so other than a slight distant tingle to my body, I wasn’t in pain. I’m sure I’d be feeling it eventually, but for now, physically, I was as OK as I could be other than my newfound condition.

Mentally and emotionally, however, I was still in a bad place. My talk with Randy helped me reframe a few things, but I don’t think I was done working through it yet. It was clear I had a lot of my own issues that lead me to where I was. Just as Olivia had. I certainly had more growing up to do before I could say I’m where I should be.

Looking back to Damien, though, I decided now wasn’t the time to work through his part of the puzzle. Not yet. He needed comfort more than me. I had never seen the dilo-boy in such a state before, and it hurt me almost as much as it hurt to see Olivia in such a bad way.

The only thing I could do was support him. We’d get through this mess as a team.

“Weirdly OK,” I noted, “We’ve got some stuff we’ll need to talk about, but it can wait.”

“I think we should-” he started.

I aggressively waved him off, stopping him in his tracks.

“Later. I think we both need a breather,” my notepad informed him.

He let out a long sigh, relenting.

“You say so, man. I probably don’t look exactly spring fresh myself,” he said with a smirk.

My first thought was to write he looked like he fell down a flight of stairs but I stopped myself. That would’ve been in exceedingly poor taste, even if it was at my own expense.

“You look like you just took a rocket to the face in one of your games.”

He guffawed.

“Man, that’s how I feel to a T, Inky. So… if we’re not going to… talk, talk, you know. Then you want anything? I know you said you wanted to play some games, but honestly I don’t think that TV’s one they’ll let me mess with.”

I concede his point. I couldn’t imagine the staff would be OK with Damien fiddling with the wiring trying to make it work.

“Any suggestions?” I inquired.

He tapped a claw to his chin for a moment in consideration.

“We could do a board game? Dad’s here too, so he could join in,” he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the door where Randy was certainly still waiting.

“That sounds like a great idea,” I wrote, then flashed him a thumbs up.

“Great! I’ll go get something then.” he said, jumping up.

For a moment, a flash of classic Damien was back as he sped-walked back to the door. He slipped back out and I could make out some talking in the hall before the door slid back open.

“Hey, Inco. Damien said he wanted to run home and grab some games for us to play. I figured it’d be faster if I drove him. We could also nab some real food to eat while we play. That work for you?”

“That sounds perfect,” I wrote him.

He flashed a contented smile and then he was gone, the door sliding with a clack.

I sighed and leaned back into my bed.

So Damien doesn’t hate me. Or if he does, it’s a better actor than I gave him credit for. We’ll have to talk about it soon, but we both agreed not today. While certainly part of him being so magnanimous was trying to hold onto what little stability seemed to be left in his life, he was still a great guy for even giving me the time of day, let alone checking in on me. Or wanting to play games with me again. 

The Payne family really was a treasure.

Chapter Text

To their credit, the Dilo-duo made great time. Damien practically crashed into the room with an armful of boxes, with Randy following behind chastising his son for the commotion.

Damien had brought the mother lode. Wow. I don’t think I’d ever really seen the Paynes do a ‘game night’ that didn’t involve a games console and their TV, but clearly they had a secret stash somewhere because they brought a dozen different games for us to try.

As Damien laid out the spread of options on the floor for consideration, I couldn’t help but smile a little. He still looked ragged, but he was acting like his old self again. Part of that was probably a bit of a show to make things feel  more normal, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate it right now.

As I mulled over the options before me, Randy passed me some fast food. A burger - a double, specifically - and fries and a soda. I ravaged the burger immediately, earning a hearty laugh from the father-son duo.

“We’ll make you a proper carnivore yet!” Randy exclaimed.

Looks like at the next cook out I’ll have to plate up properly.

I paused for a moment. The next one? Hrm.

I looked at the two and they were already weighing in the options on which game to play as they snacked away at their meals. We were down 3 other members of our group, but there was a flash of normalcy again. It was The Paynes Experience that I’d grown to love. I couldn’t help but smile.

Yeah. I think there will be a next one. 

“So, son. Which one grabs your interest?” Randy finally turned to me to act as the final arbitrator of our evening entertainment.

I looked over the options. Some were more classical board games. Dice and cards and play mats and the like. One was a big, monstrous box that looked like some kind of role playing game. While they did seem interesting, I didn’t think we had the time tonight. Also, it felt like those would be better served with a larger group than just the three of us.

No, those would be for another time.

I looked to some of the more reserved options and one caught my eye.

“You have Pictionary?” I jotted down on my notepad.

“Sure do! Figures an artist would want the artistic option. My boy here never really got into drawing all that much,” the elder Payne answered.

This elicited a small, playful groan from Damien.

“Well, I suck too. Even playing field?” I retorted.

Damien’s eyes lit up, as if that was an agreeable notion.

“And hey, you’ll be getting a lot of practice with a pen and paper now, huh?” he said.

Immediately as the words left his mouth his hands snapped his snout shut, his eyes wide.

“Damien!” Randy hissed.

“Nuhnuhnuh!” I garbled, waving my hands, trying to diffuse to faux pas.

I hoisted myself from the bed, both feeling a bit more sure of myself than the trip to the bathroom, and with a motivation to help dig Damien out of the hole he just jumped into. This caught both of their attention and they rose to meet me, but I just slid my way down onto the floor, level with Damien.

“Pictionary is fine. You’re right, I’ll need the practice,” I scrawled.

Randy accepted the message, but still held his ‘disappointed father’ expression while looking to Damien. Damien, for his part, sheepishly scratched the back of his head with that same smile he always had.

I stared at him for a moment and remembered my second day at St. Hammond’s. I ate with Damien and Olivia, and found out that - without a shred of malice in him - he spread rumors about my date with the dodgeballs. And again later when it turned out he let slip about Olivia’s old nickname. 

The dilo-boy in front of me had a perpetual habit of well-meaning foot-to-mouth syndrome that almost rivaled mine. And then, surprising everyone in the room, most of all myself, a giggle bubbled up from within me. Before I knew it, it had transformed into a belly laugh.

Even after all that happened, Damien was still, undeniably, categorically Damien. And I couldn’t help but laugh. The dino pair across from me were clearly pleased I wasn’t angry, but quite confused at the sudden outburst. As the laughter died down and I wiped my eyes, I grabbed my notepad.

“I’m glad you’re you, Damien,” I showed the note with a smile.

He was clearly taken aback by the note, though Randy read it and finally found himself a little more at ease. With that bit of awkwardness over, we settled in to playing some Pictionary.

And in true familial fashion, the pair playfully ribbed me at how truly awful my drawing skills were. Looking at the sketches before me, I couldn’t help but completely agree. Even after only a few minutes after completing a sketch, I would look back and already begin getting hazy on what I was supposed to have drawn down on the paper.

It’s a wonder that Olivia put up with attempts at teaching me to paint at all.

That thought sparked another pang in me.

No. It’s a wonder that Olivia put up with me at all.

After a moment, I realized that the other two were staring at me, and I felt I had quite a frown on my face.

“You good, man?” Damien asked.

I tried to shake my head, but the neck brace made it a gentle wobble at best. I couldn’t wait for this to be removed. I waved a hand at them and scrawled a note, my hands starting to cramp from the workout they were receiving today.

“It’s nothing. Thinking.”

They shot each other a look, and then Randy checked his watch.

“Ah. It’s probably getting on for us to leave anyways. They’ll be kicking us out soon regardless.”

We all stood, though I had a wobblier time than them, and Randy helped me hoist myself back into the bed. Damien finished cleanup of the board games and stuck them under the chair next to the bed, clearly planning on picking back up where we left off at a later time.

I liked that idea.

As Damien turned to say something, a yawn overtook him. I was honestly impressed by its intensity. I think he unhinged his jaw and almost made a full 180 degree span with his mouth. Unfortunately, this also set off a yawn in both myself and Randy as well. My poor jaw control not stopping my yawn from being so strong I felt the joint pop.

“Sorry! I guess it’s contagious!” Damien smirked.

“That it is. It’s been a long day for all of us. Come on, son, lets head home for now,” Randy said patting Damien on the shoulder, before turning to me and continuing, “I’ll be back in the morning for whenever that specialist gets here.”

I nodded my reply, but Damien took a step towards the bed.

“One sec, pops.”

He leaned close to me, a somberness in his expression and he raised his frills to block my view from his dad. It was a ‘secret meeting’.

“Hey, man. I’m glad… you’re doing better. I know you said we’ll talk-talk later, and we will, but this is important.”

I nodded and felt compelled to swallow the lump in my throat, in anticipation of what was next.

“I… don’t forgive you. I can’t yet. That’s probably not what you want to hear, but what you did was…” his eyes turned away and he snorted in frustration, before continuing, “But I can see you’re different. If only a little. I think you’re trying and… I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Alright?”

I contemplated that for a moment, and then gave him a slow, definitive nod - as much as the neck brace allowed - maintaining eye contact with his intense expression.

He held my gaze for a moment longer before dropping his frills and the smile returned.

“Awesome, good to hear it man. I’ll try and swing by sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

I flashed him a thumbs up as he made for the door. Randy, however, watched him make the trip and then turned his expression on me. A furrowed brow that told me that despite Damien’s protective frills blocking line of sight, it did nothing to preserve the secret-ness of our ‘secret meeting’.

Yet another Damien moment. I would’ve laughed at it, but Randy’s stare killed the sensation.

“I think Inco’s got something he wants to tell me real quick, Damien, you can head on to the car, I’ll be down in a moment.”

Damien looked back and I flashed him a thumbs up, which was enough to send him off. Unfortunately for my sense of ease, Randy re-took his seat next to the bed.

“I know you are putting off your ‘talk-talk’ with Damien, whatever that means. But why did he say he can’t forgive you, Inco?”

And there it was. I felt the knot forming in my gut, but even after everything, Randy had gone out of his way for me. Trying to shy away from this would only make it worse. I grabbed the notepad and sat for a moment, trying to think of how to start this conversation I really didn’t want to have.

Several false starts, scratched out beginnings. Randy was patiently, but sternly waiting through it all.

Eventually I settled on a starting point we probably all agreed on.

“I hurt Olivia.”

He read the message, and returned his gaze to me.

“You ‘hurt’ her. Did you try and talk to her at all since you got your phone back?”

A long, slow sigh escaped my lips.

“No,” I scratched.

“Look, son. I know that things are… sensitive, right now. But the only person Olivia’s ever opened up to like that was you. Sure, obviously things didn’t go well at the formal, but I think she’d like to hear from you that you’re ok at least,” Randy replied.

His voice carried a subtle hint of concern, though I couldn’t quite place if that was for Olivia or for me. I certainly didn’t deserve it if it was.

I put pen to paper again, but like before, it was slow going. I was beginning to notice that one benefit of this condition was it really, truly forced me to consider what I was going to say before I said it. I had many moments where I opened my mouth when I shouldn’t have. Put in my two cents when I shouldn’t have. Tried to be clever when I shouldn’t have.

Now?

Now I HAD to consider what I would ‘say’. A safety rail for my stupid mouth and stupid brain.

I thought back to the various times my ‘help’ only made things worse. There was many times. So. Many. Times, In the last months. The formal was practically a non-stop stream of it. But there was other moments that hurt almost as much. Like when I tried to be so brave, and so smart, and save my fair gator-maiden from the bullies and just made myself look like a total ass.

To his credit, Randy continued to give me the time I needed to work out what to write. I was thankful to him, though I felt a slight bit of regret knowing Damien was probably standing out in the parking lot wondering what was taking so long.

Eventually, I settled on what to say next.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared? Of what? Olivia?”

I was having less lines to scratch out as what I wanted to say started to become more concrete in my mind. I had always folded to the slightest bit of pressure. The slightest bit of resistance. I had been totally spineless until my injury and I know where that landed me.

I was terrified. Because I don’t think Damien told Randy anything about what happened at the winter formal. And I was scared that coming clean would upend the only lifeline that had been cast to me since I woke up. But if I was going to make things better, I couldn’t keep it a secret.

If this was the final blow for the fragile support I’d built up today, then it was never meant to be. Not that I’d deserved it in the first place. It was a sickly sensation of resolve. Or just relenting to what reality was now.

I faced a gallows, and Randy Payne, patriarch of his household would be my judge and jury. And if there was some small mercy  in this world for the wretch that I am, NOT my executioner.

I began to write. No scratch outs or restarts this time, just a slow deliberate scrawl.

“I’m scared to talk to Olivia again. Like if I even mention her, this time she would break forever.”

Randy read the words, looked to me, and looked over his shoulder, almost as if he expected Damien to be there. He mulled on that for a moment, and then looked back at me.

“What happened at the formal, Inco. Tell me the truth now, son,” his voice was low, but even.

“What did Damien tell you?” I inquired.

“Almost nothing. He said you did something bad, hurt Olivia. When you went to chase after her, he stopped you and you two… fought. Ferris stopped him and dislocated his elbow in the process. Then the next thing anyone knew was finding Olivia screaming for help on those stairs. Damien… he thought you had died.”

Those last words were choked out. This man legitimately cared that I had almost… that his son had thought I was dead in some terrible accident.

God, I wish it was that simple. 

I took a steadying breath, long and slow to settle myself. This man deserved the full picture. Here we go.

I folded over the notepad for a new page and began to write.

It was somewhat jumbled. I admit that between the injury and the intensity of emotions of the night some parts were hazier than others, but I laid out everything I could remember, starting with the shopping detour.

I wrote down about how dismissive I realized I was at Olivia’s choice in dress. How I tried to placate her with expensive purchases. How things shook down at the formal where I pressured her about the eulogy. How I was buddy-buddy with her school bully. I took Ben’s side on things. How I danced with her bully instead of her. How I… how I had taken those pictures in her moment of weakness, never considering the emotions she was fighting with were real.

I continued to write. My pace picked up, my lettering became worse. Both from the steadily boiling self-hatred and the cramping in my hand. I wrote how Damien confronted me more than once about Olivia, and that final time after that picture when he destroyed my camera and gave me a black eye. How if Ferris hadn’t stopped him he would’ve continued to beat me.

How Ferris dislocating his son’s elbow gave me a window to scurry away like the bug that I was to find Olivia. Finding Olivia at the top of the stars. My horribly insensitive attempts at talking to her. Telling her that every awful thing everyone’s ever said to her was true but I would ‘forgive her’.

And my attempt at forcing a hug that ultimately almost got her killed.

I finished out the recap of my life story of that night writing that the only good thing I did that night was sacrifice myself for her. My needing to be contemplative of what I wrote saved me from jotting down that I felt like I should’ve just died from it. And how simpler it would have made things.

I stole periodic glances at Randy, who’s expression was clouding the longer my writing went. He could tell a storm was coming, but he was powerless to divert the course now. I finished my scrawl. It was several pages and became almost illegible by the end. I massaged my aching hand and read back through. I didn’t want to miss anything important. Everything would be laid out and then it’d be up to him to decide my fate.

As contented with it as I could be, I flipped the pages back to the start and, only hesitating once, handed the notepad to Randy before gesturing for him to read. He took a long breath, and then began.

He was thorough. He read it twice. Watching him flip back to the beginning and read through it all again turned my guts into knots. I wanted this. We both NEEDED this. But I felt like I would die at any moment, anticipating where this was going.

Over the course of his reading, the concerned look faded. He never looked angry, but by the time he finished reading, he looked like he had aged. He looked so tired.

Raptor Jesus, Randy. I’m so sorry.

He gingerly handed the notepad back to me and then pinched at his eyes and took several labored breaths trying to steady himself. When he finally calmed himself down, he quietly stood and only uttered.

“I see.”

It was quiet. It was cold.

It was done.

I cleaved the only thing holding my life together today with the truth. And I deserved that entirely. I sank back into bed, exhausted beyond belief.

Randy quietly made his way to the door. Just before he opened it, he paused. He didn’t look back at me, but he did talk at me.

“Call me when the specialist arrives tomorrow so I can be here, Inco. Please.”

“Yeh,” I slurred out my reply.

And he was gone.

I could feel my face contort into a mess and quiet, tearless sobs racked my body.

—

I don’t know when I had fallen asleep, but I easily felt that what sleep I got did me little favor. My waking was fairly quick, bright and early in the morning, but I did nothing for the next hour at least. I just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

The nurse doing the routine checks helped me use the restroom again, though other than being emotionally hollowed out, my body at least had enough strength to make the journey this time.

I wordlessly laid back into bed staring into space and the Nurse departed. I was alone with my thoughts again. He was still going to act as my guardian while my parents were… wherever they were. Raptor Jesus knows I didn’t deserve it in the least, but if Randy and the Paynes are anything, it’s kind to a fault.

I had a moment of being inclined to reach for my new phone, but even that felt like it took too much effort. What would I even do on it right now? Watch some stupid video about a game I’ve never played?

I was disgusted at my own shallowness. Disgusted at my way of thinking. Disgusted at my behavior.

Hell, I was beginning to be disgusted with being disgusted with myself.

Having spent the quiet time in the last day and a half looking back on everything that lead up to where I was now, I quietly resolved to myself that I would never forgive myself for it. But that didn’t mean that I was going to drag anyone else down into that pit with me. Hating myself was my penance, but not my absolution.

If the Paynes, and Olivia never wanted to see me again once I had done what I could to make things right, I was fine with that. It turned my stomach into knots when I realized that, but it was the correct way to go with it. I couldn’t force my stupidity on people anymore. That was what got us where we currently work.

What I could do now was actually be useful for once in my life and help.

The next time the nurse came in, shortly before lunch, I had a few questions jotted down on my notepad, which she was more than happy to answer.

First, the Speech-Language Pathologist was due to be here at about 1:30 this afternoon. Next, I asked how much a new, quality wheelchair costs.

She tried to assure me that my injuries didn’t necessitate it before I corrected the notion by explaining I had accidentally damaged a… friend’s and I wanted to help replace it. She gave me a smile of surprising warmth at my apparent kindness. I’m sure she’d carry a much worse expression if she knew the context, but there was no point in burdening her with the truth.

Lastly, I asked when the neck brace would come off. She said she wasn’t sure, but she would see to it that Dr. Niket told me later.

I gave her my thanks and she was on her way again. Didn’t want to have her waste too  much time on me, she was certainly busy. I opened my contacts on my new phone and tapped the contact for the Paynes household number.

The phone rang a few times before it was picked up. I had expected Randy, but instead got Mrs. Payne instead.

“Hello, Sophia speaking.”

Oh. right. I’m an idiot.

I just realized my mistake of calling someone while not being able to speak properly. God, I’m stupid. I garbled out something that hopefully vaguely sounded like ‘Sorry’ and ended the call.

 I flipped over to Damien’s contact and texted out a message to him, telling him to pass along that the specialist would be here at 1:30, if he could tell his dad. I watched as the message sent, marked as read, and after a few times of the dots indicating Damien was starting, then clearing his reply, settled on “ok”.

That was probably the least I’ve ever gotten from Damien in a text. No doubt he heard that Randy now knows everything and that put the mood at the Paynes in an even worse place. Damien obviously knew everything already. He was there for most of it and probably got the blanks filled in by Olivia. 

But still, the curt reply kinda hurt when I reflected on how things were ever-so-slightly better last night before they had left.

I could turn on the TV, or keep browsing my phone, but neither held any appeal to me. I let my phone plop into my lap and I just stared at an indeterminate point in space, letting my mind drift.

Lunch came and went. I didn’t have any appetite, but I did force down some small nibbles and drank my fluids. Last thing I would need is for them to think I was starving myself.

True to his word, Randy arrived at about 1pm, ahead of when the specialist would arrive.

That he was here in the middle of the day in the middle of the week means he once again called into work to take care of his ‘son’.

I was too tired to even feel guilt over that misapplication of effort.

He only said a short greeting, and then took up his seat by the bed and got back to his book that he’d left here overnight. I couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, but if he actually despised me, I don’t think he would be here.

I also didn’t have the courage to break the silence. My efforts last night certainly strained things already. And he certainly told Mrs. Payne about it as well. But he still showed. There was a small, infinitesimal chance that they wouldn’t cut me off when their guardianship duties were done.

It was the best I could hope for right now. 

The specialist ended up being about 10 minutes late, but I didn’t fault him. Someone with that skillset would certainly be in demand in various places, and he had to travel here to meet me in the first place.

What was surprising, slightly, is that he was human, like me.

He had a much darker complexion, and a close trimmed haircut and beard, both of which were thoroughly salt and peppered. But definitely human. Neat.

He introduced himself and explained that over the next little while he would be performing various tests with me to figure out the specifics of my condition. I nodded in confirmation I understood, and Randy moved himself to one of the other seating chairs on the other side of the room to give him space to work.

The tests were surprisingly simple in practice. He gave me various things to try and say, made me try and do certain facial expressions or make various non-word utterances. Write things down, attempt to answer questions and work out word puzzles. They took some blood samples as well. He informed me they had already given me scans of my brain, so that wasn’t required for today.

As we did them, he was very calming to listen to. This was a man entirely in his element, with years of experience working with people in a difficult position, and he did a great job of making me feel at ease. 

The various tests done, he excused himself to talk with Dr. Niket, leaving me alone with Randy once again. I laid myself back in the bed, resolving myself to silence when he finally spoke up for the first time since he got there.

“How are you feeling today, son?”

He still sounded beyond tired, but he didn’t sound angry. Not that I could pick up on, anyways. And that realization hit me like a truck. It was such a simple gesture, but it tightened my throat.

“Oheh”

He nodded, and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but let it drop for now. A short while later, my two doctors returned. And the conclusion ended up being what Dr. Niket had suspected. I could fully understand and work with my language, but due to partial paralysis of the facial muscles and jaw, my control of my mouth was too indelicate for articulated speech.

The results had been pretty obvious since Dr. Niket said them yesterday, so this was just a professional confirmation of the truth at this point. The news washed over me and nothing really changed.

The SLP specialist did note that there are treatment routines and exercises that can help restore some level of articulation control needed for speech, but he wanted to inform me I like wouldn’t ever be able to talk quite the way I had before.

I simply nodded.

Dr. Niket informed me that they would be working out the specifics of said treatment plan and would be back later to inform me of what my next steps were. 

Everything needing to be said having been said, they thanked Randy for being there and excused themselves. Randy quietly walked back over to the chair by my bed and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“We’ll make it through this. You’ll be ok, Inco.”

I didn’t cry at his kind words, but I did come close.

I grabbed my notepad and scratched down the question that had been eating at me since last night.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He shook his head, like it was a silly question.

“I already told you, son. You’ve made your mistakes. You being honest with me about the… specifics of them last night hurt. Absolutely. But you being honest with me about them shows me you’re taking those mistakes seriously. That you aren’t just sweeping them under the rug.”

I nodded. I really was trying to be honest with them.

“On the ride home yesterday, I talked to Damien. He… didn’t know about some of those things, but knew of the bulk of them. He agreed with your telling for the parts he did know. I can tell he felt bad about leaving off some of the specifics, but I think he was just trying to protect you.”

Before I could think, I snorted derisively. Randy’s brow furrowed and I realized that could’ve been interpreted a number of ways, so I noted down an explanation.

“I didn’t deserve that protection.”

“You may feel that way, but he’s a kind boy at heart. He lost himself in what was going on, same as me and you. That doesn’t mean he wanted harm upon you,” Randy offered.

I considered that. He had given me so many chances to step in and try and correct things. He only resorted to violence that final time after I… after I took that picture of Olivia and then tried to go see her. That had been his breaking point, but he had tried to avoid that so many times before then.

I concurred with Randy about his son. He was one of the kindest people I had ever met.

“And because we’re being honest, I’ll tell you now. When I read what you wrote last night, and put the pieces together in my head… I was angry. I was so angry I couldn’t even feel the heat of it. And that scared me. I probably should have let myself cool off and then talk to you again, but I was afraid I would say or do something to make your situation even worse. And we’ve all had quite enough of those impulses lately.”

That surprised me a little. I’ve known Randy to get annoyed, but for him to say he grew so angry he was afraid of doing something he’d regret… it made sense, but I felt terrible about it. Even if it needed to come out, I felt awful. 

“I understand. I’m sorry,” I wrote.

He nodded before continuing.

“When we got home, Damien…” he laughed a bit before continuing, “He didn’t even make it out of the landing. He sat down to take his shoes off and fell asleep right there.”

As heavy as the subject matter was, the mental image of Damien falling asleep like that also made a small smile creep across my face. It was very ‘him’.

“The anger that had been roiling in me cooled a bit. Both from my worry of the boy, and just because of how silly he can be. I almost disturbed him, but the moment tickled me so much I went and got Soph to show her. I explained we had played board games with you and that Damien fell asleep in that position and… she laughed. I think it’s the first time I’d seen her in that high of spirits about something so small in a while. I really do think that moment helped us relax a little.”

He chuckled to himself quietly while shaking his head, remembering the moment. Then he took a breath and continued.

“After I put him to bed - he didn’t even wake as I was carrying him - I talked to Soph. I told her everything you’d told me. She got mad too, honestly. But I think she was more mad at herself. Like I’d told you, she had been the one to suggest… to suggest cutting Olivia loose once she graduated. To ‘save those that could still be saved’,” he said, the last bit as if something unpleasant tasting was in his mouth.

I nodded, remembering.

“She… I think she shifted the blame onto you, for a moment, at least. She said it suddenly made sense. You brought her out of her shell, and then hurt her again. Soph was so mad at herself for not realizing that Olivia putting herself out there and being hurt again would obviously make her lash out. We were all just seeing a child throwing a tantrum for no reason. Not what was really happening.”

You brought her out of her shell, only to shove her back in.

Damien’s words had been right on the money, again.

“We talked about it. We talked for hours. I don’t even know when we’d fallen asleep, but it was early morning. Like I’d told you, we had realized that putting all of Olivia’s betterment on you was a mistake, and your side of the story just confirmed that. You… were certainly the spark that lead to things going the way they did. But if we hadn’t put it all on you…” Randy trailed off, staring off into space.

I didn’t really have anything I could say to his point. I still had a deep core of self-loathing. I was the ultimate linchpin of Olivia and everyone else’s suffering. If not for me, everything would have been better off.

But I also could tell, in the more logical part of my brain, that Randy was right.

I was some nobody, idiot, teenager. I was ill equipped for a healthy, normal relationship with a girl, let alone trying to navigate something like Olivia’s past traumas. It was like a lightning bolt in my head.

I wasn’t about to forgive myself. My personal sins were far too numerous and too heavy. They almost made me kill Olivia.

But as I thought it out, I realized that honestly? Really everyone sucked here. And for all the hatred I had directed at myself. If I took on the burden of mistakes people made outside of my control… then things would never get better.

And that was all I wanted.

It didn’t matter much to me if that better outcome included me in the end or not. But for the Paynes, and more importantly, for Olivia. We all needed to step up and correct our own screwups.

I took to my notepad again.

“I want to make things right.”

Randy read my words, looked back to me, and then gently smiled.

“Me too, son.”

Unfortunately, that was massively easier said than done. Randy had to head home to help with something, now that the big important event of the day was dealt with, and over the last few hours of thinking by myself, I had come up with…

Precisely nothing.

There was no obvious, let alone easy, path towards fixing this mess we all found ourselves in. It was deflating, I admitted to myself.

But maybe things worthwhile aren’t the easy ones.

Randy was clearly still hurt about what I’d done, but I think he was blaming himself just like I was blaming me. We were comrades in inward-facing turmoil. He clearly wanted to make things right, and was willing to forgive me for what I did as long as I kept being honest and trying to make an earnest effort to make amends.

The good news is that was absolutely my plan.

The idea of ever returning back to that spineless, sniveling, backstabbing cretin I was before I got hurt caused my stomach to roll. I couldn’t help but give myself a rather dark smile at the response to that thought. Maybe some brain damage was what I needed to fix my brain.

That was admittedly a pretty gross thought, but I still felt like it was deserved.

So Randy was willing to walk this road with me. That was probably the biggest, scariest starting hurdle to all this. Next was Damien. We still needed to have our talk-talk.

He said he couldn’t forgive me, and I didn’t blame him at all. Out of everyone in the equation, Damien was likely the most blameless for how things went. He was always putting himself out there, acting as a mediator, trying to keep everyone cool and collected. Randy was amazing, but I think if I were religious I’d actually put up Damien for sainthood.

When I resolved that he was the next step on this road of repair, I shot him a text message.

“Hey man. If you want, we can talk-talk.”

It was in the evening now, so I didn’t expect for him to get back to me until tomorrow. That was fine. I was in here for another week at least anyways. He’d know where to find me.

I idly fiddled with my new phone. I hadn’t paid it much mind since Randy brought it yesterday, but I didn’t have anything better to do now anyways. It was a much larger model than my old one. It also came with a nifty little stylus that hides away in the body of it. I opened the notepad app on it and started writing with the stylus. It was smaller than the notepad I’d been using, but certainly more convenient.

Technology is pretty cool.

I continued to scribble aimlessly on my phone, doing little swirls or abstract shapes as I thought. Damien was pending. He’ll get back to me when he’s comfortable. I thought of who I should try and work things out with after that. Vinny? Maybe. While as far as I could recollect, none of the harm done to the energetic mini-Damien was from me directly, I also didn’t do enough to prevent Olivia from spiraling to the point she lashed out even at him.

No. I did lash out at him too. I remembered when we went to the brunch with Liz. The mood was spiraling, and I tried calling Damien for help, but since he was sick, Vinny answered. He in so many words called me old and insulted my choice in movies and I snapped back at him. He didn’t hear it, but I actually threatened to strangle Vinny.

I wouldn’t have done it, of course, but good lord I was such a douche that I yelled at and threatened a child. Well, I still am, but then, too. But I’m trying to work on that.

So I still felt somewhat responsible. I don’t think Vinny would really hold it against me. He takes after his brother a lot. But I needed to try and think of something I could do as an olive branch.

He had mentioned a ‘Mr. Beast’ on YouSnoot. I pulled it up on my phone and spent a little while watching it. I made it through 2 and a half videos before I switched it off. The topic of each video was actually kind of interesting, but the frenetic editing style and quick pace disoriented me and didn’t let me focus on what was going in.

God, maybe I *am* an old doodoofart.

Still, it was that or video games. And I sucked with both, but maybe even just trying to partake in what he liked was enough? He also liked hockey, too. I know you can play hockey on streets and stuff, not just ice. Damien and Vinny were pretty sports oriented, so maybe they had some of that equipment? Damien would probably be down for joining in too.

And Solly’s regimens have made me at least slightly less pathetic, so maybe I could keep up enough for it to be fun?

I jot down a note in the app about that. Yeah. Hockey with Vinny. That just might actually work.

My next thought was Liz. Again, I don’t feel like I really screwed things up with her much directly, but that lunch date went poorly and obviously me being antagonistic with Damien certainly bled over. She would always go to bat for him, so if Damien was against me, Liz certainly was too.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really know Liz that well. She was wicked smart and had her - and honestly probably Damien’s - lives planned out for the next decade at least. A talented artist in her own right and she was already making strides for opening a business the second school was out.

But outside of that I barely knew her at all. Trying to make amends with Liz would be challenging. She’d probably try and just brush things off to take the path of least disruption like she did other times conversations got dicy, but out of respect for both her and Damien I would need to handle it properly.

But without a clue on how to broach things, I resolved to tackle the Liz topic once me and Damien had our talk, however that shook out. If I couldn’t sort things out with Damien, then Liz would also be permanently off the table anyways.

It was a bleak thought, but I couldn’t do anything about it now, so I let my thoughts trudge on. Next would be Sophia. Going off what Randy had said, she was probably fairly receptive to me trying to make it right, but it also sounded like she was angrier at me than he was. Justifiably.

I couldn’t really think of any olive branches I could extend with her either outside of maybe some fashion of help around their house, but Damien and Vinny probably took care of all that anyways. All I could really do there was wait for an opportunity to talk with her like I had with Randy and hope for the best.

I sighed.

My brilliant ‘lets fix my screwups’ plan so far was lots of shrugging and hoping for the best. I wasn’t surprised by it, but it was still frustrating that I couldn’t figure out much in the way of concrete ways to make amends. I wasn’t worried about my side of things, anyways. If Vinny, or Liz or Sophia hated me until the end of time that was fine with me as long as I could give them some level of peace of mind.

I also needed to confront Mr. Ferris at some point. He wasn’t exactly part of ‘the equation’, per se, but my actions certainly made his life harder that they should have, and burdened him greatly at the formal. He was a kind person, and I’m sure he felt awful about me forcing him into hurting Damien.

Again, no ideas other than just talking things out, which I added to my notes.

I kept my train of thought chugging along for who would need working with and landed on Ben and Mia. My mouth reflexively curled into a sneer.

God, I was so stupid. I let the two of them doormat me as they used me to screw with Olivia. I should have been the first line of defense for her in not putting up with their bullshit but time after time I handed her to them on a silver platter.

I angrily scrawled “Fuck Ben & Mia” in my notes before circling the words in a huff. I let my heart rate go back down to normal before looking at the words. Sure, they deserved that. But it wasn’t helpful. Mia sucked, full stop. She was probably one of the most spiteful, hurtful, broken individuals I ever met.

But Ben? Ben was baffling to me. He always seemed like a good guy, but was willing to throw absolutely everyone under the bus for Mia. Literally everyone. Was he also just too spineless to stand up to her? Was Ben just me of a different flavor? Did he even notice it?

There was also whatever had transpired between him and Olivia in the past. I never got a full picture of it, but I’d come to the conclusion through my hours of introspection that I had profoundly missed the big picture about their dynamic.

I sighed and erased my angry etchings and then wrote “Talk to Ben”.

I had no idea how it was going to go. But I didn’t think he’d refuse me. And if he did, I would lean into Mr. Ferris and Principal Scaler. I wasn’t going to let him toss me under the bus again if the outcome harmed anyone else.

My mind drifted back to the meeting with Principal Scaler about the ‘Mia Incident’, when she trashed the hallway. Ben had thrown me under the bus then, too, but he was only partially to blame. I didn’t just let it happen. I crawled my way under the bus and waited from him and Mia to hit the gas.

I had figured it was the easiest course of action at the time, and even looking back, I was right. I WAS the easiest course of action. It was also definitely the wrong one. Indirectly it further harmed Olivia, and emboldened Ben and Mia.

So no. No more buses. Fuck buses.

Ben and I would have a talk one way or another. I refused to let him McKnight his way out of it when we did.

My thoughts shifted laterally to Scaler. I felt bad for her. She… wasn’t the best principal. She clearly had way too much on her plate and her caffeine addiction was going to kill her in another 5 years if she kept it up trying to stay on top of everything. But she was at least trying.

And rather than just seeking her or Ferris out, I just let things coast until it destroyed the winter formal. She was a victim of my stupidity as well. Alright, Ferris and Scaler need talking to as well. Noted.

That finally rounded me back to the star of the tragedy of St. Hammonds.

Olivia.

My poor girl. 

Well, we probably aren’t dating anymore, admittedly. That thought caused my chest to hurt, but it was well more than deserved. I would like to say it’d be possible for us to repair things and - if not get back to how they were before - move on better and stronger.

But by every account, she was in a bad way and it was ultimately my fault.

I pushed her back into her shell.

Even if she never wanted to talk to me again, the only right thing to do was help her get better. Even if it cost me everything else, Olivia deserved it. She had suffered more than anyone I knew before I even met her. And she didn’t need me to continue to be an anchor around her.

She needed support, and I would give it to her.

The problem was… how?

According to Randy, she completely cut off everyone now, only going out when everyone else was asleep. Her room was apparently a wreck. I felt sickened at the idea, but she had lashed out before. She destroyed her sketchbooks when I found her in the rain. She blotted out the window in her room when she was feeling awful. She destroyed Vinny’s macaroni art.

Unfortunately, the violent defenses of Fortress Olivia were accurate, and lethal.

Randy had said she was the one that screamed for help when I took the fall for her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if her remaining care for me stopped at “didn’t want you dead”. Which was entirely fair.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really know where to go from there. It was weeks of a slow burn trainwreck I did nothing but facilitate, destroying the last shreds of joy and hope she had left before nearly dying in her arms to make up for an accident I had caused.

My options with Olivia were by far the thinnest.

And yet… even though Randy said that they had all failed, as I worked through the last few weeks of what happened to get us here in my mind, I realized that unfortunately, our best ‘in’ to Olivia was still me.

I’m sorry Olivia, that’s really sad that it’s that way.

I sat there, mulling over things for who knows how long. It was nighttime now. No one else visited for the rest of the day, but that didn’t surprise me. Even if Randy had largely forgiven me, no doubt the truth about the formal stretched his patience and he needed some time away from me.

Damien had replied back with a “Will let you know”. It was ominously vague, but he at least responded.

I wanted to contact Ferris or Scaler, but I didn’t have a way to text them, and without my ability to speak properly, a call would go nowhere, so I would have to tackle that one through the grapevine tomorrow.

I had eventually gotten bored of letting the wheels of my mind spin without getting anywhere and had started idly doodling in the notes app with my stylus. I don’t know that it helped anything, but it certainly gave my mind something to chew on that wasn’t the litany of my screw-ups for the first time since Pictionary. So that was nice.

I was still really bad at art though. Like. Wow.

I scrolled through the doodles I’d made. I tried a sketch of Olivia. It looked like some weird sort of fish with stick legs. I had tried Damien, but that also looked like a fish, only with weird spines.

I tried a doodle of Liz, and honestly she turned out pretty alright, mostly because it was a stick figure body with a ludicrously long neck, so it was impossible to mistake as anyone but her. When I finished that one I actually managed to eek a chuckle out of myself.

Maybe I’ll show it to her later, if our talk goes well.

Then, I had a thought.

Maybe it was a stupid one, but it was probably the best chance I had.

I thought back to what Randy said when he departed for the day to me:

“I know she’s not doing well. And I know you’re scared you’ll mess it up and make it worse, son. But I do think Olivia would like to know you’re at least OK.”

I opened Olivia’s contact in my phone and brought up the text message history. I scrolled through memory lane. So many happier moments flooded back to me. So many silly sketches she did of Guts doing absurd, non-rat things, or characters from Animes she liked to watch.

I wondered how Olivia did those doodles on her phone. Did she just use her claw to sketch, like she did in class? I never really had thought about it until now and that thought made me slightly angry at myself.

There was so much I didn’t know about Olivia at all. I never really attempted to get to know here until circumstances dumped us into a relationship. I don’t regret it at all, of course. It was the happiest I’d ever been, and until things started falling apart, I think it was the same for her.

But looking back, I was a terrible boyfriend. Beyond that, I was a pretty terrible friend. So maybe that was the starting point. Just trying to be a good friend, first and foremost. Getting to know her properly. 

My ‘plans’ such as they were with everyone else had circled around trying to find a common ground I could engage with them on. An olive branch that could be extended so we could meet on a difficult problem as equals.

And I was frustrated to say I didn’t really have much for Olivia in that regard either.

But I didn’t have nothing.

I tapped to start a new text message, and clicked the little “Add File” button on the message and opened the notes app. It was crude, it was sad, and it was ugly. But it was a picture of Guts giving a thumbs up.

I attached it and added the text:
“Hey. Just to let you know, I’m alright. Text me when you can.”

Sent.

It wasn’t much, but it was at least an attempt at something.

After it sent, I worried it was too casual. Too friendly for the… unpleasant waters that we now found ourselves in. But as Randy said, she’d want to know I’m OK.

That was the important part. I wasn’t dead. And I wasn’t mad at her.

Everything else we would just play by ear.

To my surprise, the message was marked as “read” quite quickly. I watched my phone for several minutes after, looking to see if she would reply, but it didn’t prompt that she was typing.

The terror I had felt at the notion of even asking after Olivia before oddly never materialized this time. I think between being honest with Randy, and hearing his words about talking to Olivia gave me the inner strength to just go for it.

It may explode in my face later, but it didn’t explode immediately. 

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and leaned back into my pillow.

That was fine. She saw it. She knew I was alive.

One step at a time.

We’d talk when we were ready.

Chapter Text

The next day was slow going. Randy had dropped off some books for me to read in the morning, which I was deeply grateful for. He also informed me that Damien was sick. Apparently the stress had finally caught up with him and he was down hard yesterday. I appreciated the status update, and that made me feel better about Damien’s curt replies.

If anything, it made me appreciative that he responded at all. I ran through what I had done and formulated last night as a ‘plan of attack’ and Randy seemed to agree with me for the most part. He told me he would get in contact with Ferris and Scaler for me, since as far as we both knew my parents hadn’t talked to them about what to do for school while I was out outside of the original notice I had been in a coma.

He also felt my idea for Vinny was good, though he laid down the law that it would wait until I had a clean bill of health. I was feeling stronger with each day, but that didn’t mean I got to push myself with a physical activity like hockey - a sport known for its fights and injuries.

I was all too happy to agree. While I felt it was the best way to lift Vinny’s spirits, I honestly wasn’t looking forward to the dilo-sons bodying me in a sport. Solly may have put a bit of muscle on me, but it certainly wouldn’t be enough to keep up with them. I didn’t need to die the second I got out of the hospital in a freak street-hockey accident.

When I told him about my message to Olivia, he could only offer me basic encouragement that he thought I did the right thing. She still hadn’t responded, but neither of us was surprised by that, really.

Randy said when he got back home he’d see if Sophia noticed a difference at all, but until then we were both in a waiting pattern to see if my message moved the Olivia needle at all.

He bid me farewell, as he had to actually get back to work today, but he promised he would swing by again in the afternoon afterwards. I was more than content with that.

For the next little while, I amused myself with the drawing app that I installed on my phone. It was a little more robust than just doodling in the notepad app, but my skill level made the difference miniscule at best. But if I got any better, then maybe it was more useful. If I ever got back on speaking terms with Olivia, I’d have to ask what app she used on her phone.

I spent the late morning and early afternoon juggling between getting up and pacing around my room, watching YouSnoot video tutorials on drawing, and trying my hand at it. I was beginning to get antsy, and it was the best combination of activities I had available to me to prevent boredom-induced madness from setting in.

Randy’s books sounded interesting, but were more in-depth than light reading, and I couldn’t get my brain to sit still long enough to become invested in them. Maybe later, but I don’t think it was going to happen today.

One part I was feeling particularly antsy about was Mr. Ferris and Scaler. Randy said he would contact them, so there was a non-zero chance I’d hear from them today, but where THAT conversation would go was a complete unknown to me.

I was angry at both of them for their failures, but I was also sympathetic to them because of mine. And so, like in the morning, all I could do was occupy myself through the routine of my healing and wait to see how things went.

Late afternoon, however, brought an unexpected surprise. I wasn’t yet settled on if it was a welcome one.

“Inco, your family is here to visit!” the nurse trilled.

I almost jumped out of my bed in shock at the announcement. At this point I began to suspect they died on a flight somewhere, and their ghostly forms would slide through the wall to greet me.

Instead, the door opened the full span and there they were. Ol’ mummy and daddy. Dad shared my baldness - thanks for that one again, pops. Some hair could’ve maybe softened the blow of my landing in that stairwell. Mom had a short bob cut of dark brown.

Both looked tired. As usual. They were in their mid thirties and they looked like they hadn’t slept since highschool.

“Hey, kid,” Dad softballed his opening.

“Heh,” I slurred back.

I waved both of them in. Them standing in the doorway wasn’t just making me uncomfortable, but the poor nurse as well. They took a few steps into the room and the nurse closed the door behind them to give us some privacy.

They didn’t advance any closer. Calling them ‘standoffish’ was the most accurate descriptor in history.

“We got back this morning from our trip. The, uh… the Nettleman project. You know the one,” Dad explained.

I didn't, of course. I had no idea what projects they had or which ones were in the works. They rarely actually told me what was going on at work, and they were usually AT work. Normally that just made me feel lonely and sad. But at the moment, it was just slowly raising my blood pressure. 

“Mm,” was the only thing I could offer. 

I hadn’t decided if they were yet worth pulling my phone out for communicating with.

“We’re sorry honey, really. We were there first thing in the morning after you were brought here, but… when they said you were in a coma and had no signs of waking up… We didn’t know what to do,” Mom offered.

You could’ve actually kept your asses in the state in case I woke up, for one, I thought.

“Still, we understand if you’re upset, kid. Of the bits of information we know, you’ve been through a lot. Don’t worry, we’ll… we’ll get this sorted out,” Dad said.

Honestly, this was the most direct engagement I’d gotten in a while. It was actually kind of surreal. If every word they said didn’t make me more and more annoyed, it would’ve been a nice change of pace.

But no. They hadn’t even actually come to me yet. They had stopped midway into the room and hadn’t come over since. I know I wasn’t worth the Payne’s or Olivia’s time of day but I’m your god-damned son.

My scowl clearly caught their attention. The awkward silence weighed heavily on the room, my parents really, truly having no idea what to do or say next.

They didn’t hate me. I knew that. Frankly, it’d probably have been easier all around if they did. No, the problem is that they DID care. It didn’t feel like it sometimes, but looking back on it, especially after Olivia helped take care of me when I was sick and we talked about our parent issues, she highlighted that they cared, otherwise they wouldn’t give me such a nice house, a nice education, and basically a blank check of money to amuse myself with.

The problem, ultimately, isn’t that they didn’t care. It’s that they were bad parents. Their care meant nothing to the entitled spoiled little shit I grew up to be. They had me too young. They got married too young. No one’s really ready to be a parent, but these two were worse than average. We’d never talked about it, but I’m pretty sure I’m older than they were when they had me.

To their credit, they pulled things together against all odds, and both went into business together after having me and work incredibly well paying jobs. But they’re barely more adults than I am even though they double my age.

And it manifests in their care being almost unlimited money to a kid that never had any emotional connections to anyone else and never learned a shred of empathy from another person.

I stared at my parents and a deep, recessed rage continued to grow. I was trying to fight it, but in that moment the sickly sweet smell of an emotional way out was calling me. A siren song calling out to me to bash myself on the rocks. The part of my old self that wanted to act like it was everyone else that failed, the part I’d spent almost every waking moment since I exited my coma crushing into dust was working a hail mary play.

It was their fault.

I wouldn’t be like this if not for them

Olivia wouldn’t hate me if they raised me better.

My knuckles turned white as my fingers balled into fists so hard the joints began to hurt.

If the Paynes had been my parents, I wouldn’t be like I am.

My parents just stood there, not sure what to do as my anger began to hit a crescendo. To their credit, in the back of my mind I could tell they were disturbed. They realized something was wrong, but it came back to the same fundamental problem.

They had no idea what to do with me.

I inhaled deeply, having lost control of myself in that moment. It didn’t matter if they understood a single syllable that came out of my mouth. I was about to unload almost 2 decades of neglected hate at them, and they were going to deserve every moment.

And then the door to the room slid open.

“Hey, Inco. I managed to get off work a bit early so… I…”

Randy Payne stood in the threshold of the doorway, unsure what he was looking at.

Seeing one of the kindest people I ever met, his face going from pleased, to perplexed, to worried ripped the voice from me. My parents had startled at the door opening suddenly, and pivoted to see the man they didn’t realize was their savior.

“Oh, I apologize, I didn’t realize you had company, son,” Randy said, trying to take stock of what he was looking at.

My Dad turned from Randy back to me. 

“Inco, who is this?”

My lungs felt tight. Being interrupted like that threw me off and I had to cough to clear myself. My deflated anger and a brief spike of a return, but it quickly petered out again. I wasn’t going to try unloading anything on my parents in front of Randy. I used the moment to look at the three, who were looking back at me, and have what shake of my head the brace would allow.

“Raheh,” I gestured to Randy, “Meh muh pahehs.”

My parents faces scrunched into a mixture of bewilderment and concern as they looked at me. Randy’s did the same, only he was looking at the couple between him and me.

“What was that?” my mother exclaimed.

I let out a sigh.

“Inco, honey, what’s wrong? Is your mouth numb? Is it the medication you’re taking?”

She finally actually figured out where her maternal instincts had been hidden for the last decade and came over to me, placing her hands all over my face and trying to get a better look at me.

My dad hadn’t moved an inch. He was trying to process what was going on, but he could already tell I ‘wasn’t right’.

I’d already assumed it was the case because I unfortunately knew my parents quite well, but unfortunately for Randy, he only just now pieced together the current situation.

“You don’t know about your son’s condition?”

His voice was dripping with mortification. He really couldn’t believe that they didn’t know. In their defense, as much as I felt inclined to provide that information to them, I didn’t actually ever text either of them to let them know anything. I admit to being childish, but if they wanted to see how I was doing, I decided they could actually come see me for once.

Clearly the hospital staff on-hand were unawares that they were unawares of my condition.

Welp, enjoy that little bombshell guys. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll make you consider actually acting like parents next time your son gets into a coma after almost dying. While that notion of mildly sadistic, bitter amusement was running in my brain, I unfortunately realized too late that it wasn’t going to shake out that way today.

Randy looked livid.

His frills were shivering and his eyes were pinpricks. If I didn’t know the man better, I would’ve suspected he was about to lunge at my parents right there. But to his credit as one of the most wonderful people I’ve met, he restrained himself.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nito? I am Randy Payne. I have been acting as your son’s guardian while you were… unavailable. If you’d come talk with me out in the hallway, I think we have a lot to discuss,” his voice was ice cold.

Even when Olivia was at her worst and lashing out at the family, he had never been so outwardly angry. Randy, I appreciate you going to bat for me, but whatever you do, please don’t kill my parents - shit as they are - in the hospital hallway.

Dad took the cue and walked out into the hall, passing Randy without a look. Mom lingered for a moment, her head whipping between me and Randy. All I could give her was a shrug, and a ‘well, go on’ gesture towards the door as well.

After another moment, she too exited the hall, and the door quietly clicked shut.

And immediately I began to breathe heavier. I know Randy didn’t want to have a fight in front of a kid. He was a great person like that, but I was becoming legitimately concerned about how this was going to shake out now that I was out of view.

I strained my ears to try and catch anything from the conversation happening outside. At first, it was basically nothing at all. But soon the telltale sounds of voices and tensions being raised. A moment later it exploded into full shouting.

I didn’t want my parents hurt, but well beyond that I didn’t want anything to happen to Randy.

I jumped out of bed and bolted for the door. Unfortunately, “getting stronger” didn’t translate to “fully recovered” and my knees went weird on the home stretch to the door.

And I face-planted directly into it.

The meaty thud immediately killed the conversation outside and the door slid open, unfortunately painfully dragging the door against my bald head.

“Inco!” The adult trio yelled.

For my part, all I could do was groan. That really, really hurt. My nose hurt, my black eye hurt, my neck hurt, and what may be a friction burn on my forehead from the door hurt. Even my knee hurt from how I went down.

The silver lining of this truly pathetic display, only outshone by my debut at St. Hammond’s, was that it unified the three towards my well being. My mother rolled me over and cradled my head while Dad was trying to look me over. I could already hear Randy running down the hall yelling for help.

Once again, the unifying force to bring people together to overcome any strife was apparently horrible head trauma for Inco G. Nito.

I predictably had to sit through Dr. Niket talking down to all three adults as if they were kids that got their hands caught in the cookie jar. I felt bad for them - well, Randy more than Mom and Dad - but it was admittedly pretty amusing.

Unfortunately, even I didn’t escape the shakedown as the injured party, with Dr. Niket explaining to me that I had just taken literal brain damage and severely injured my neck, and that further traumas to my head could exacerbate my injuries or even kill me.

He was right of course, but it didn’t feel fair to me all the same.

Once the situation calmed down and he left, we found ourselves in a new, low-simmer awkward. Randy had taken his vigil, as he had previously in the chair next to the bed. My parents had taken seats near the door.

I think the very fact that they didn’t fight him on that at all annoyed Randy even more.

My parents were now brought up to speed on my newfound condition, and told both them and Randy about some of the tentative details of my treatment plan going forward. Mom and Dad originally began to protest a little that Randy was “involved”, but they clammed up pretty quick when I informed them I had him added as my emergency contact and acting guardian in their absence.

And how he had actually shown up.

Dad looked quite put out by that retort, but every time Mom saw me have to write down my answers or questions she looked one step closer to crying.

At the moment, however, there was a calm, but uneasy silence. Interestingly, Dad was the one to break the silence first.

“So, Mr. Payne. How did you come to know our son?”

“Your boy is friends with my son. Over the last few months they spent a lot of time together, usually over at our place,” Randy answered, matter-of-factly.

“I see…”

Another silence.

“So, Inco never really said, but what is it that you two do to…uh, occupy so much of your time? It must be quite an intense career path,” Randy finally asked, attempting to extend an olive branch.

“Oh, Oh! Well, we, uh, are co-partners at an architecture design firm. We coordinate with companies and individuals to design unique, high-concept designer buildings. Usually skyscrapers or specialty office buildings. Because we run the firm and coordinate with contractors and local developers and governmental bodies, we… travel a lot,” Dad explained.

“And you don’t take your son with you?”

“Of course we do!” Mom gasped.

“I think he means on routine business meetings, sweetie,” Dad said, calming her.

Mom’s face turned a bright red.

“Yes, your son has mentioned that your family moves fairly regularly. As you said, I was more curious about the lack of availability on a short notice. Like current circumstances,” Randy clarified.

“Yes, well. Inco has always been quite self-sufficient. We used to have a nanny on payroll, but with all the moving around, and Inco soon to be a full adult, it felt like it stopped being helpful at a certain point. He’s never expressed displeasure at not being able to travel with us, and obviously his ongoing education and what social interactions he has are important for his development.”

Even Randy couldn’t completely fault that line of logic, and he nodded at the answer.

“Still. It wasn’t the first time we attempted to get ahold of you when your son was in.. less than ideal circumstances.”

“O-oh?”

An annoyed huff from Randy.

“Your son nearly freezing after his girlfriend broke her wheelchair was one such occasion. We had to pick them up and he stayed at our place since you couldn’t be contacted and the weather made walking home not an option.”

My mother gasped again, and my dad’s brow furrowed.

“Or when he was so sick he passed out while his girlfriend was trying to nurse him back to health, and she called my wife for help.”

Heads lowered further.

“Or, most recently, when he fell down a flight of stairs and nearly died. I’m sure Inco would have preferred waking up with his own parents by his bedside!” 

The last words of that raised to just below a yell.

I raised a hand and placed it on Randy’s arm. He held his gaze at my parents for a moment longer, then with a harumph, deflated into the chair. My parents weren’t bad people, but they really didn’t have a defense for themselves here.

This was, admittedly, a talk I should have had with them ages ago. But until very recently I was a spineless doormat of a person. Now, though. They were here. They were paying attention to me. And frankly, I don’t think Randy was going to let them ‘escape’ any time soon.

I took a long, steady inhale, held it, and then exhaled.

Then I scrawled on my phone’s notepad.

“Do you guys want to know how my year’s gone so far?”

Mom and Dad gave each other a look, before both looking back to me, and giving me a firm, resolute nod.

Alright. Well then.

I survived being honest with Randy.

I’ll survive this.

I abridged certain things for Mom and Dad. The sad reality is they didn’t know me that well, so they didn’t need all the gory details for every bit. I told them about my experiences at school. The rough early days, finding friends in Damien, Liz and Olivia. The cookout at the Paynes. Olivia opening up and becoming one of the best friends I ever had.

About Iadakan. About his death.

About how it lead me and Olivia to being together.

And also about how I drove us apart.

When I finally got to the formal, it was the most cut down part of it all. I explained the parts that were… easy, relatively. My pushing Olivia on the Eulogy. Dancing with her bully instead of her and confronting her on the stairs.

I left out some of the parts that may have been too much for the semi-strangers called my parents to stomach, like the pictures during her eulogy. Or me echoing every atrocious thing everyone ever said at Olivia before the end.

They still somewhat cared for me, Mom and Dad. And they didn’t need to realize - not yet at least - that their behavior, their means of raising me, had helped create a monster. One that by all accounts didn’t deserve what mercy he was already receiving.

Part of it was to spare them, part of it was to spare me.

Throughout, Randy piped in and provided some details he knew whenever I had to pause to keep writing, or let my cramped hand rest. He quickly took note of my… curated version of the truth, and, thank Raptor Jesus, went along with it.

He let me spin my parent-approved version of the winter formal unassisted.

I would tell them the whole story. …eventually. But not yet. There was a delicate balance to maintain if I was going to make things right. One could argue this was its own form of gross manipulation, but for now, it was what it was.

As I kept an eye on them as I explained, the slow growing mortification on both of their faces as they took in everything was apparent. It started out miffed at how the school handled gym class, sure. But progressed to them looking genuinely happy I had found friends and even a girlfriend!

But that joy wasn’t to last, and as my retelling spiraled, so did their mood. By the end, they had their hands clasped together, my mother quietly shuddering, and my father a thousand yard stare.

Somewhat sad that this was probably the most intimately connected we’d been in a long time.

When I finally finished, and laid back into the bed, I let out a long, slow sigh. Ok, hard part was done. Now to see where the dice landed. Randy offered me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, as if to say ‘you did good, kid’.

He wasn’t really wrong, exactly, but I should’ve had enough of a spine to confront them about the issues they were helping ferment long ago. Better late than never, I guess.

Mom and Dad were quiet for a time, and then once my mother had calmed enough they drew close and whispered to one another. That annoyed Randy a little, given how a frown began to creep onto his face, but a pat on the arm for his attention and a dismissive wave on my hand told him it wasn’t worth fighting over.

He was annoyed that they were having a little pow-wow right in front of me, about me, without me. It was fair, but they’d been deeply entwined in their business partnership together much more than they had been in raising me. 

It was just how that duo worked. Nothing to do about it right now.

After their private discussion, they broke away from one another and finally, together, approached the bed. They leaned over the side of it, both of them. My heart rate began to pick up, unsure where this was going, and for the first time since I could remember, they both pulled me into an embrace.

They probably squeezed me too much given my injured condition, but I didn’t really care in that moment. I was struck by confusion, but also an almost touch-starved sensation. Like until then I’d never really been shown kindness. It was wrong, of course. The Paynes had shown me a similar level of familiar love, and Olivia and I had our moments of intimacy, even my parents used to be a bit more caring with me when I was a child.

But getting it from my blood and bone parents after so long broke me.

Randy gave us a little bit of space as I fell to tears again. That was happening a lot, lately, but there were a lot of times that called for it lately too. Mom whispered apologies into my ear, a backlog of a decade of neglect that had finally caught up with the three of us. Dad didn’t say anything, but the tears flowing from his cheeks showed he was rocked by all this just the same.

After we had our surprisingly therapeutic cry session, my parents let me go. And they almost looked as bad as me. Eyes red and puffy, Mom’s hair a complete mess. I could tell that the realization of what them just… buying off my quiet childhood compliance had lead to, even if only in part.

This… was good. I think.

In honesty, when I was putting together my tentative “fix everything” plan, I didn’t spare a thought for my parents. I had foreseen me finally getting out of the hospital, being home, them finally walking through the door after yet another trip and merely getting an “Oh, Inco, you’re back from your coma. Good.” and the day would go on as normal.

This was certainly not how I saw it going down, but I couldn’t at all say I was upset.

I wasn’t sure how things would shake out with my direct family in the long term, but… this was definitely a step in the right direction. We had a lot of talking yet to do, and a lot of things to work on. It may never actually be fully repaired, even. But progress was progress, and I would happily take having any kind of additional support right now.

“I think we should pull you from St. Hammond,” Dad said, breaking my train of thought.

“What?”

“What!”

“Whuh?”

Mom, Randy and me were seemingly in agreement in our shock.

“Hon, clearly things aren’t good there. We… we should move him to somewhere less… packed with trauma. Somewhere that can help his new needs. And give him room to recover without characters like this ‘Ben’ or ‘Mia’.”

God… damn it Dad. 

He wasn’t even WRONG, notionally. But this wasn’t the time to suddenly have fatherly care! I’m trying to fix the mess I made!

I immediately took to scribbling things down, but as I went to work, Randy inserted himself back in the moment.

“Mr. Nito, I understand the sentiment. But as… well, as the man that’s been watching your boy here through the last months, and most importantly, the last few days, may I give my two cents on the matter?”

Dad turned to scrutinize Randy. I could see his eyes squint and his brow furrow. He hadn’t really ‘looked’ at Randy before, but whatever dumb dormant fatherly instincts Dad had were finally kicking in, and he was, in his own weird way, trying to protect his son now.

And the ‘outsider’ was threatening that.

“Fine,” Dad allowed, after a moment.

“I’ve got two… three kids at home. I know what it’s like to be a working parent, like you two. As Inco explained, Damien’s my son, and Olivia is Inco’s girlfriend. Inco has deep ties to my family now, you see. And Inco… has also become like family. When you two were unavailable, he would spend time over at our place. With his friend and girlfriend. And my wife and I were more than happy to accommodate him.”

Mom and Dad quietly considered his words.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve seen more of your son over the last months than you have, going off Inco’s recollection. So if you want my perspective, and want what’s best for Inco, it’s this: you need to let him fix his mistakes. You heard his story. Sure, St. Hammond’s ended up being a place of hurt for several kids this year. But Inco’s taking ownership of his part of making that hurt.”

I had stopped scrawling my sales pitch at this point and just let Randy speak. He was saying everything I was planning to. Mom looped her arm around Dad’s and they listened to Randy talk.

“Your son is an adult. Soon, he’ll leave school, leave the nest, and be off on his own. He’s told me before he’s not sure what he wants to do with life. That the future is uncertain. But I can tell you this. Learning to put in honest, hard work to fix your mistakes, and repair connections is a skillset that will serve him better in his adult life than any click of the camera, or stroke of the brush will.”

That struck Dad to the core. I could see him physically wince. He was trying to help, he really was, but he was as unequipped to deal with situations of this magnitude as I was. Mom wasn’t any better.

But Randy was a real one. He laid it all out. That this was my chance to actually grow up and act like a real adult for once. I may have to recommend Randy for sainthood too. The Paynes were far too good for this world, let alone me.

Mom and Dad - more Dad than Mom, I’m pretty sure she didn’t like the idea of pulling me from St. Hammond’s either - considered his words for a long moment before turning back to me.

“Inco? Do you think he’s right about this? I know your mother and I haven’t… done everything we should have. But he’s right. You’re almost an adult. We’ve let you make your choices and mistakes without us until now and… maybe it would be wrong of us to start acting like we know better now.”

He looked tired. He probably was.

But I think he was growing up a little. Like me.

I’d held a deep, quiet resentment for my parents for a while now because… well, they pretty much abandoned me. I ‘got’ why, but that didn’t make it better. But I was trying to make an effort to fix my mistakes. To be an adult, even if it was painful, and I shouldn’t be denied that opportunity.

And looking at my Dad.

I think he was starting to go through the same journey now.

It was… weird.

But also kind of nice.

Something we could maybe look back on in a few years as equals together.

But for now… Dad’s personal journey of mistake-fixing couldn’t get in the way of mine. The Paynes and Olivia were too important to me. 

I pulled myself out of bed and stood to my full height, which was only a hair - hah - taller than my father, I removed my prescription sunglasses and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Yeh.”

It probably would’ve been more dramatic without my newfound speech impediment, but I felt it needed to happen. I needed to be completely level with him. 

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then looked me over completely. He took in the sad state that I was, head bandaged, neck brace. Black eye, hospital gown. He looked to my mother, who had a sad, but determined smile on her face. And finally, he looked back at Randy.

He let out a long, slow, sigh, shaking his head.

“Ok. Ok, kiddo. I hear you. Now… wouldn’t be the time to shake your life up even more.”

I felt a weight lift from me, and even Randy held a small, pleased smile.

“It’s probably too late for us to be acting like real parents anyways.”

On that one, I stopped him. I jotted down a retort.

“It’s not too late, but not right now. We can work on that later?”

He read my note, and considered it deeply, and then relaxed slightly.

“Ok. Yeah. Later sounds good. Tha- thanks, son.”

Ok, Inco. I think that earned your old man a hug.

The mood was certainly lighter, after all that. Randy had uncoiled somewhat, and my parents could see Randy was probably one of the best things to happen to me in a long time. In the back of my mind it was surreal that Randy was trying to protect me from my own parents, but I don’t think he was wrong to. 

Saint Randy continued being an incredible guy.

Dad took a brief moment to make a call, and excused himself out into the hallway. Mom looked like she already knew what it was about, so probably something job related. 

I mentally slapped myself.

Obviously it was job related.

Still, Mom and Randy were making small talk. Mom loved to cook, she just didn’t have any time for it anymore, so hearing about Randy’s talent on the grill perked her interest immediately. I have a vague recollection of an early childhood birthday where she rocked a BBQ practically by herself.

I don’t know that the flavors came close to what Randy could crank out, but it was a small connection the two had and they were enjoying talking shop about seasonings.

I was relaxing in my bed again, enjoying the easy ambience. This was nice. My Mom and my not-Dad were just enjoying each other’s company while I idly doodled on my phone. It felt like something real families did.

Hopefully there’d be room for a lot more of this in the future.

Dad entered the room again with a tired smile on his face. He looked worn out from whatever that phone call was.

“What’s up, dear?” Mom asked him.

“Just got off the phone with Twombles. He and McIntyre will take over for the ‘Cornucopia’ project.”

Mom let out a sigh like she’d been holding her breath, and she looked happy. Randy shot me a look, but all I had for him was a confused look back. Mom and Dad talked about work ‘a lot’ but I wasn’t ever really part of the discussion. I had no idea of the inner workings of their business or what any of those names meant.

Dad realized our confusion, and clarified.

“Twombles and McIntyre are employees of ours. Cornucopia was our next big upcoming project. We were scheduled to leave to go oversee the initial stages of the building’s design… tomorrow.”

So they had been planning to miss Christmas while their son was in the hospital. Cool. Randy likewise looked slightly annoyed at that news.

“But with them taking over, we’ll be able to stay in town for the next week or so. You deserve us being here, Inco,” Dad finished his explainer with a smile.

I felt floored. Mom and Dad were actually going to be here for Christmas for once. And they put the job aside for me.

I mean, they damned well SHOULD be doing that, but them actually doing it? It was a very pleasant change of pace. Even Randy gave an approving nod.

“I think Inco here will appreciate that,” he said.

God… yeah, I really did. I nodded in confirmation.

“Given the sudden change of plans, I’m guessing you didn’t actually have anything figured out for Sunday, then?” he asked my parents.

Mom looked quite embarrassed when she answered with a ‘no’.

Randy obviously expected that.

“Well, I’ll need to run it past Soph, but if everyone agrees to it, why not join us at our place? It’s a holiday, and the more the merrier, right?”

Randy beamed them a big smile. He was clearly fully onboard with this plan.

My parents quietly discussed it amongst themselves before Dad finally turned back to Randy.

“If you’d have us, we… would be more than happy to come.”

I didn’t show it, but I had my own doubts. Randy was clearly anticipating things to turn out more or less OK, but the situation at the Paynes was still tenuous by the sounds of it. I turned back to my phone and opened the messaging app.

Olivia still hadn’t responded.

I sighed.

Realistically, if the pattern held, she was going to stay in her room and not engage at all. Which was… safe. But I don’t think anyone would be happy about it. But I also couldn’t rush things with her either. That’d just make things worse, and the last thing Olivia needed was ‘worse’.

So let's try tackling things in order.

While the parental trio were talking and making plans, I moved over to Damien’s messaging contacts.

“Hey dude. How’re you feeling? Apparently Randy wants my family over for Christmas this weekend. But if you’re feeling up to it, I think we should talk first. Work things out so it isn’t awkward, yeah?”

Sent.

A few moments later, it was read. And then he was typing a reply.

“Hey man, Yeah. Feeling better. Still tired, but should be good tomorrow. That cool?”

I typed an affirmative.

Ok, so talk-talk with Damien tomorrow. That should be… interesting.

I turned back and tapped Randy on the shoulder, getting his attention, which in turn pulled my parents’.

“Let me buy Olivia a new wheelchair,” I scrawled.

Randy was taken aback slightly. Like I’d anticipated, he started preparing the denials and rejections.

“Now, Randy,” Mom interjected, surprising us both, “You yourself said he was trying to be an adult and fix his mistakes, right? If he was partially responsible for the accident on the stars, then the appropriate action would be to pay for a replacement?”

That stopped Randy in his tracks. Damn, Mom, well played.

“You make a fair point. But wouldn’t it be your money? Inco doesn’t have a job,” Randy retorted.

Uggghhh, Randy no! Out with your logic!

My mom considered that for a moment, before shrugging dismissively.

“A compromise, then. We haven’t really worried about his spending habits before because they’ve generally reasonable.”

I internally scoffed at the idea of spending $600 on designer socks as reasonable.

God past me was a douche.

“So how about this? The Nito family foots the bill on a replacement chair, and while we work out how to contend with Inco’s spending habits in the future he… could do some work for you? Yard work or something?”

Randy thought that through and glanced out the window. It had been snowing all day.

“That… would work. I think. Obviously once he gets better, but I think him doing some shoveling and other odd jobs for us would be… acceptable,” Randy relented, accepting the olive branch from my family.

Welp. Looks like Solly’s training would come in clutch again for the hard labor I would be subjected to once I was recovered enough. 

My mind stopped.

Wait, what about school?

I snapped my fingers, getting their attention before jotting down my question.

“Michael hasn’t gotten back to me yet, given that it’s the holidays. But I would expect we’ll be able to get you back in class when break is over if your doctors don’t have a complaint,” Randy explained.

Almost as if on cue, a knock at the door. I snickered a laugh when all three adults answered.

Dr. Niket stepped in, and took stock of the room for a moment, then smiled. He was clearly pleased that things had evened out since he had to break up the argument from before.

“Well, Inco, I have great news. Your condition hasn’t shown any signs of further issues, and your recovery has been going very well. As such, if your parents are willing, you can go home with them tonight.”

This elicited a small chorus of cheers from the four of us.

It made sense, I was feeling much better. Honestly, given how much had happened, I was feeling great. 

And this time, when I went home I’d actually have my parents there with me for once.

Hell yeah I was excited.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly. Mom and Dad talked with Randy more, coordinating our holiday plans now that I was going to be out of the hospital. Sounds like Mom wanted to do some emergency shopping for foodstuffs and gifts. I think she was plotting to make up for a few past Christmases she was gone for.

Dad meanwhile had broken off to talk to people at work. Apparently he didn’t trust them to not screw something up so he was trying to establish contingencies. I’d be annoyed he was already back to work if he hadn’t assured me it was purely so he wouldn’t be disturbed at all for the next week.

My parents were actually taking time off from work. Completely.

I was speechless.

Well, text-less.

Randy gave warm handshakes to my parents and told him he’d confirm things with Sophia, but he was very confident there’d be no problems and would message my parents the time. Then, before departing he walked back over to me and gave a firm, comforting pat on the shoulder and a smile.

One that said he was happy for me, and proud of me.

I was happy my parents were, if only temporarily, and in a small way, back in the picture. But that look…

Maybe I could get Dad to talk to Randy about some pointers about fatherly-ness.

As we prepared to depart, I remembered we had stashed the board games under the one chair, and Mom and Dad helped collect them. We’d be able to return them back to the Paynes in a few days anyways, so it wasn’t a big deal.

The doctor was sure to provide me more notes and guidance on the exercises I had started doing since yesterday to help my recovery. The big ones were trying to work my jaw and facial muscles. Trying to talk and over-emphasizing syllables, or over-emphasizing certain facial expressions.

They had explained to me that because of the brain injury, my ‘wires were crossed’ in their analogy, and my brain had lost track of how to move things in a fine enough way to talk like I used to. These practices, even if they felt silly, were like stretching my leg after an injury. It worked the muscles and the brain to try and practice and re-establish connections.

I probably wouldn’t ever be able to talk completely normally again, but there was a chance I would be able to articulate better than the slurry mess I currently could manage. 

I thanked the doctor profusely for everything they’d done, and as we made our exit, I even spotted one of the nurses that had been keeping tabs on me throughout my stay. I shot her a warm smile and a friendly wave, which she was happy to return.

I climbed into the back of my parents car - a needlessly high-end SUV - and we departed for home. I must have looked hungry, because Dad, looking at me through the rear-view mirror asked if I wanted to stop and grab anything.

Before I could answer, though, Mom cut the two of us off.

She was going to home cook something for us, since she finally had some time to spend.

Man. When was the last time she cooked us anything? It had been ages. I remembered talking with Olivia about it when she came over and helped take care of me when I was sick. She had ‘thrown stuff together’ and made the most delicious soup I’d ever tasted, and we talked about the last time I had something homecooked.

Sorry Mom. I remember loving your food, but Olivia’s soup blows your stuff out of the water. If I ever repair my relationship with Olivia… maybe they could trade tips? I imagined that scenario as I stared out the window watching the buildings slide past.

Mom and Olivia in the kitchen, giggling and laughing as they cooked. Sophia to the side partaking in girl-talk and helping out. Dad and Randy out in the backyard, working a grill. I don’t think Dad had ever grilled anything in his life, but as happy as Randy was to have me take a go at the tongs, he’d certainly pressure Dad into it too.

My imagination carried me to the living room, with our massive TV. Me, Vinny and Damien playing on a console, while Liz watched. Damien and Vinny absolutely obliterating me in the game, but everyone’s having fun and laughing.

“Inco, sweetie? Are you OK?” I heard Mom ask.

I was pulled from my reverie, realizing tears were rolling down by cheeks.

“Yeah mom, just thinking. Hoping this Christmas is a good one.” I noted down for her.

“I’m sure it will be, Inco,” she cooed.

I turned my head back to the scenery as it went past. We were almost home now. Wiping my eyes, I tried to think of the last time I’d had such pleasant thoughts. Pleasant memories or imaginations.

It had been a while.

I don’t think it would shake out like that, unfortunately. Too much hurt. Too many wounds left to fester.

But the scant possibility of it was a goal. It was something to strive for. Something old, terrible Inco wouldn’t want. And the fact that I DID want it meant I was becoming better than him.

And that thought made me happy.

True to her word, Mom cooked us dinner. Dad of course had to run out to get supplies, as our cabinets were bare, and the fridge held foods that expired various days ago. Some of it had still been good before the formal, but me being gone for a week definitely doomed the culinary components. I offered them a silent prayer in apology. 

I think she’d gotten rusty with all her time having skipped out on cooking. My memories of the taste were better than the reality. But damn it. I’m not going to complain about my mother taking the time to cook for us. For us to sit down and have a real family meal again.

Dinner passed quietly. I was happy that Mom and Dad were making an effort to get back into my life again, and more than happy Mom cooked us dinner, but the reality was we… didn’t have that much to discuss. My semester recap caught them up on all the school-related things they’d missed, and they were intentionally trying to avoid mentioning anything about work.

It was appreciated, but given that most of their lives WERE work, it left us with basically nothing to talk about. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, exactly, but I think we all felt like it was a bit embarrassing that this was our current situation.

Still. Progress. One step at a time.

I finished my food and put the dishes in the sink and told Mom and Dad I was gonna go ahead and crash early.

They warmly wished me a goodnight and stayed at the table. I suspect they had stuff they wanted to talk about amongst themselves as well, and I was happy to give them the room they needed.

I trudged up the stairs to my room, and by the time I reached my bed, my energy was gone. It was almost surreal being back here. In my room. On my bed. I’d grown accustomed, in at least a small way, to hanging out at the Paynes. Where a family lived.

But now… a family lives HERE, too. In practice, the change from just before the formal was minimal. But it felt significant. It WAS significant. Now we just had to see things through to the end.

I rolled over and faced the ceiling. I probably should get out of my clothes, but I was too tired from everything to do so. I grabbed my phone and opened my messaging app back to Damien.

“Hey dude, when you visit tomorrow, visit my house. Hospital kicked me out,” I typed as a joke.

“Kicked out? Jeeze, what’d you say?”

Oof.

I’m pretty sure that was a joke, but it still felt a little too close to home given my prior behavior.

“Discharged. Apparently I’m a healthy boy. My parents collected me and we’re home now.”

This time the reply was slower. Multiple instances of the dots appearing and disappearing and Damien worked a reply. For a period of 5 minutes there was no dots at all, then he finally responded.

“Yeah, Dad mentioned something about them. Are you guys cool? Do I need to bust you out?”

This guy. My heart.

“Nah man. We good. We talked. Got some work to do, but I think that goes for everyone right now.” I answered.

“Yeah. You’re right”

He returned. And with that, the discussion ended for now. I thought of bringing up YouSnoot for something to watch, but honestly I hadn’t felt like watching any of the stuff I used to for a while now. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Maybe I’d grown a little? Or maybe my stairs tumble jumbled my taste in entertainment.

I made a mental note for tomorrow to ask Damien about gift ideas. Mom was absolutely planning to go shopping for Christmas and I wanted to do right by everyone in the gift department. It wouldn’t fix anything on its own, of course. I definitely internalized that lesson that just spending money on trinkets wouldn’t fix things from my introspection about how I screwed everything up for Olivia.

But this was Christmas. It was OK to do gifts. And if I was going to do gifts, they may as well be good ones. No more of Inco thinking he knew better than other people about what they wanted.

I opened the drawing app and doodled a little bit more. My practice was beginning to pay off in a small way. Olivia looked ever-so-slightly less fishlike. Damien’s face almost looked vaguely recognizable as Damien.

Liz was still a long-necked stick figure, but honestly I think regardless of how my art may or may not improve, that was perfect for her.

With a chuckle, I laid my phone down and let sleep happen.

I awoke. My neck was aching something fierce. I was clearly well past my time of taking my pain killers. I wonder how long I’d slept in…

I rolled over onto my side to reach for my phone and found myself at eye level with Damien, who was sitting in the middle of my floor, cross legged. I startled fully away, and pretty sure I jumped enough to clear off the mattress.

“Raphuh Hehsuh!” I gargled a yell.

This in turn startled Damien, but he recovered quickly, a smile forming wide on his face and he laughed.

“Sorry, dude! I got here a bit early, but your parents let me in. You were out cold, man, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I held my hand to my heart trying to steady myself. Once I was composed enough, I grabbed my phone and jot down my reply.

“Why get here so early?”

He looked confused.

“Dude, what time do you think it is?”

I looked at my phone properly and noted it was already past noon. Wow. I really had been out like a light.

Damien scooted himself out of the room so I could get changed, and then waited for me to take my medicine, and do some of my exercises. For his part, Damien, trying to be encouraging, mirrored some of the silly faces I was making, which admittedly made it pretty hard to keep them up.

Mom brought us some simple sandwiches and I informed her we needed to talk about some of the stuff that happened. Thankfully, she took the hint and gave us our privacy.

We sat in silence for a moment. Damien gazed around my room. I didn’t believe he hadn’t already eyeballed everything in there already when I was asleep, so I was pretty sure he was just trying to buy some time.

I didn’t think this talk would go poorly, but… it was likely to be unpleasant all the same. Still, I should be the one to kick it off.

I grabbed my phone and thought about it for a moment, before settling on my wording. I jotted it down, and as I turned to show him my opener, Damien broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Inco. I fucked things up,” he said, staring at the floor.

I threw my hands in the air, annoyed, and snorted out a huff. Not at him, but more that I’d finally resolved to confront the guy who should be my best friend about all my horrific failings and he opts to throw himself on my sword first.

“Dahieh,” I growled.

He raised his eyes to meet mine. I shoved my phone with my note in his face and he took it in.

“I am sorry. I failed you, your family, and Olivia”

He looked at it, digesting it for a moment, before he snorted.

“Looks like we both got some stuff to say. So… who first?”

I snagged my phone back, and shot him my best “don’t you dare” look, which got him to raise his hands in surrender.

I thought about how to approach it for a moment, before flipping over to the text app. The notepad app was good for quick messages I could show people, but it wasn’t good for more long form discussions. Something I would have to figure out going forward. But that was for later. Today was getting this ironed out.

I tapped out my thoughts. Damien quickly realized what the gameplan was and had his phone at the ready.

“Right. I’ve had the few days to think. And been talking to your dad. And I obviously fucked up. Bad. Real bad. I hurt Olivia, but I also hurt you, Vinny, and your parents.”

Send.

Damien’s phone beeped and he read it carefully, and then nodded to me to continue.

“I was too spineless and egotistical to see how I was hurting everyone. And that behavior hurt Olivia. Pushed her back in her shell. And that made her lash out at you guys. And that hurt you guys.”

He nodded again.

“I don’t think I can make things go back to before. But I want to try and make things right. Properly. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and realize that Inco doesn’t know shit. If you guys hate me, you’re well within your rights to. But I want to do what I can to make it better.”

His eyes scanned his phone, but this time no nod.

“I ignored your advice. Pushed you away. And I mocked and insulted you in my head. You’re an incredible, caring, smart guy. You deserve better than that. I know you feel guilty about hitting me, about destroying my camera.”

He reads, he flinches.

“But that was probably the best thing you could have done for me. I deserved it. Even if I didn’t think it at the time, I needed it. I’m only sorry Ferris stopped you and I got away to make things even worse. I’m sorry about your arm.”

Damien’s eyes flick to his slung arm. Randy had mentioned it would take a few weeks to heal fully. 

“It’s… hrm. I don’t want to say it’s fine. I still get tingling and numbness. I get that I shouldn’t have hit you - regardless of how you feel about it - and if Mr. Ferris hadn’t stopped me… I would’ve done a lot worse,” he finally replied to my rant.

His expression was one of hurt and anger. I couldn’t tell how much of that was directed at me.

“You’re not the only one that spent this time thinking. I know I tend not to do a lot of it, dude, but when I heard ‘Livy screaming for help…”

His eyes misted up.

“I thought something happened and you died, man. Yeah I was pissed at you. I wanted to hurt you, to stop you from hurting ‘Livy, but I didn’t want you dead.”

I figured that was probably a pretty common sentiment that night.

“Ferris was on the scene first, but I was pretty close behind him and… I saw you at the bottom of the stairs. Olivia was a wreck. She was cradling your head, even after everything you did. I don’t know what she was whispering to you, but it was pretty clear she wanted you to be alright. And I…”

He ran his free hand’s claws through his hair.

“It made me angry.”

I tilted my head to the side in confusion, but let him continue.

“You hurt Olivia so much. My family. You humiliated her in front of the entire school when she was at her lowest moment. You made me so mad I actually hit you and broke your camera. Ferris fucked up my arm. And then all that is just…”

He waves his hand as if dispelling a fog with an angry snort.

“Suddenly gone. You were hurt, or dead, and suddenly none of that mattered. Olivia was trying to help, Ferris was pulling Olivia off of you, Scaler was trying to render first aid. I think Ben was actually the one that called 911. And I was standing there at the top of the stairs angry at you that you found some kind of loophole to get out of this mess.”

His hand shakily covered his eyes.

“Raptor Jesus, what a fucked up thing to think.”

I thought back to when I first saw him, after coming to in the hospital. What Randy had said about how he was ‘running himself ragged’. He probably spent those days I was out chewing himself up inside for that thought. Damien was one of the nicest people I knew, and that I had been so awful that a vile thought like that could even enter his head…

It made me feel nauseous.

I scooted over to his side and threw my hand over his shoulder. He was holding himself together much better than I had over the last several days, but even then I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I was mad at you but… what kind of an awful person even thinks of something like that?”

He didn’t break down, or begin to wail or cry. Damien’s fortitude was honestly inspiring. But he did quietly sob while I kept my arm around his shoulder. I’m here for you, dude.

I let him work out the pent up emotions from the last week, and he slowly but surely centered himself. Another minute or two and he took a deep breath in and released it with a mighty “Ahhhhh”.

“Sorry man. I know I’m making this all about me, but it’s… it’s been a rough week, you know?”

I gave him a smile and shook my head best as the neck brace allowed. Some progress. But I think we could use a bit of a breather.

I looked down and saw a few wet spots on the floor and smirked. I whipped out my phone and noted down a question.

“Hey, dilo-tears aren’t acidic, are they?”

He read the message, saw the tear spots, and then let out a long exhale that turned into a laugh.

“Nah, man. Your carpet is safe from me today.”

I got him a box of tissues from my desk and he dried his eyes and my floor.

“You know, Liz actually screamed at Mr. Ferris,” Damien said after a few minutes of quiet.

“Oh?” I wrote.

“Yeah. She… didn’t have the full context of what happened, or anything, but I had to get my arm checked out by the EMTs when they showed up to get you. I tried to blow her off, but Mr. Ferris told her what happened. I don’t think any of the rest of the situation even registered for her. Just that he messed up my arm and she just… went off on him.”

His brow furrowed and he sucked in air through his teeth at the memory.

“Like, yeah I think he could’ve done it differently too, but he was just trying to stop a fight, you know? I think everyone could’ve done things differently that night.”

He idly picked at the carpet before concluding his thoughts.

“No wrath like a woman scorned, right dude?”

That got a chuckle out of me. He was right.

With things cooled back down, we continued to talk. I did take the time to apologize a bit more for my failings, but eventually Damien seemed to get bored of it, so we shifted the topic to more practical matters.

The ‘lets fix everything plan’.

That I was even thinking this up seemed to put Damien at ease a little. Apologizing and saying sorry a lot is easy. And means virtually nothing. Actually knuckling down and trying to repair and make amends is hard, and real.

I told him that he was step 1.

He considered that, and after a bit concurred that made sense.

“I don’t feel right in saying I forgive you, exactly. But I’m down for helping you help everyone. They deserve that. You put in the work, and I think these… lingering feelings will go away.”

“So we’re at least cool enough to work together?” I inquired.

“Absolutely man. I may not be the brightest dude, but Inky, man, you’re kinda dumb. Even before the brain damage.”

I groaned at the mostly-playful jeering. He was right, of course. Damien may not have been a ‘great thinker’, but he was certainly more world-wise than I could ever hope to be. And my track record on the last part of the semester solidified my “kinda dumb” status for sure.

Still, it seemed like he was in my corner enough to help me see things through, and that was a huge relief.

Next stop was Vinny.

Damien agreed with my thoughts there. Vinny probably didn’t hold much resentment to ME over what had happened, but making him feel better, and making him feel like he wasn’t at fault was paramount for the kid.

He needed an apology and explanation from me for sure. When I floated the idea of playing street hockey with the two of them when it warmed up some, Damien’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Dude that’s a great idea! It’s been a long time since we’d played that but I think we still have our old stuff,” he grinned like a loon.

Alright, so New Inco’s deductive skills aren’t complete garbage. Sweet.

We walked down my tentative list of todos and he agreed at each step. Except one.

When I got to ‘Talk to Ben’, his snout immediately curled into a frown.

“Look, dude. I know. But we’re missing a puzzle piece. A big one, I think. Far as those two are concerned. I’m not happy about it, but I think it needs to happen,” I explained.

Damien relented to the point. He noted that Olivia began closing herself off after that first year of highschool, right around the time her and Ben’s friendship ended. He never got the full details, but that part was clearly related.

“Besides, I think we can get Ferris and Scaler in there in a room with him and ‘force the issue’,” I noted, with a smirk.

He nodded.

We continued to make minor plans and ideas, but Fortress Olivia continued to be the ultimate goal, and one with too few opportunities, yet. I told Damien I was kinda worried about being there on Christmas, but he frowned and dismissed the concern.

“Honestly, man, I think she’ll probably just stay holed up in there all day. It’s all she’s been doing since the formal. I doubt it’d change now for evern more people showing up. Even if it’s you and your parents. Best we can hope is just… keeping things easy and clear and see how it goes.”

On that, we agreed. After that the topic shifted to slightly more pleasant things. Namely, gifts. I had absolutely no idea what to do for anyone, which earned me another semi-playful ribbing from Damien.

“Dude you spent all that time around us and still don’t know what to get anyone?”

“Old Inco was, as we have established, Kinda Dumb,” I retorted on my phone.

He chuckled at that in agreement.

The good news was, Damien was a pretty good fount of ideas. Some… were better than others, admittedly. But it was enough to work with. I jotted down all the notes I could manage, and settled on talking to Mom or Dad about the trip to the mall to do some last minute gift shopping for everyone.

Eventually our little brainstorming session came to a close when Mom opened the door and informed us it was nearly dinner time.

“Would you like to stay over, Damien? We haven’t had guests in quite a while,” she asked.

Damien’s patented smile came out and he rubbed the back of his head.

“Sorry, Mrs. N. I promised mom and pop I’d help around the house tonight.”

Mom was a bit disappointed, which surprised me a little, but she accepted the reasoning graciously. He also made sure to thank her for the sandwiches before eventually departing. I watched  as he hopped in Randy’s car, the elder Payne giving me a friendly wave and smile - which I returned.  They took off, and I closed the door.

I felt like I should be more tired, but honestly things went well with Damien today. He said he didn’t really forgive me yet, but I could accept that. He had my back with fixing everything else, and that was the important part. If he eventually forgave me, that was just icing on the cake.

As I sat in silence with my parents and we ate a simple, but Mom-cooked meal my mind turned towards tomorrow.

I’d go with Mom and Dad to do the shopping - like I thought, they were wanting to get their own gifts for the Paynes as a way to show how thankful they’d been about helping me while they were gone. I’d get whatever gifts felt… right. Not expensive. Not flashy. Not something Inco wanted. 

Something they would want. The fact that it took me any focus on the idea to ‘get it’ spoke sad volumes about the kind of person I’d been developing into previously. But this was a chance to put one foot in front of another and start walking the walk of actually becoming a halfway decent person.

Damien’s ideas and suggestions should be enough to get me started, but the rest of it was on me.

And after that was Christmas. And the first real test for how the rest of all of this was going to shake out.

Chapter Text

Christmas shopping.

Man.

I cannot remember the last time we actually did a Christmas as a family beyond some basic ‘Hey I bought you a thing when I was out and it’s kinda around Christmas-time’ gift passing. This time though, through the miracle of crippling head trauma, I’m going to get a real Christmas. With my real family. And my kinda-second family and probably-still-maybe my friends.

…

The mood sorta dipped in my thoughts as I worked back through that one. But still. Things were better than they were. By a shocking amount. I looked towards the front of my parents car where they were in the front seats. Both of them actually looked well rested for the first time I can remember.

Yeah, them actually taking some time off and actually sleeping for once in their adult lives probably helped. But still. It was warming to see. And we were actually going out! Together! As a family! To do family things!

It was almost freakishly novel to me. But I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth on this one. So, we’re gonna just roll with it. By the sounds of things, Mom already had some ideas of where she wanted to go when we finally reached the mall. Dad didn’t but said he would ‘wing it’.

…I’ll make sure to spot check his purchases so he doesn’t do anything too cringey. But it’s usually the thought that counts anyways. For my part, I had a few general plans, but not too much in the way of concrete ideas. I knew some stores that should have the right vibes, so we’d pretty much make a day of the trip around the mall and see where things take us.

I scrolled back through my notes based on what Damien had hashed out for me. Ideas for pretty much everyone. He had mentioned that Liz was going to be there too, so I’d be sure to get her… something. Unfortunately, Damien didn’t have too much of a good idea of what to get her either. He was lucky though. That girl was going to be happy if he gave her his old socks, let alone anything nice.

Then there was Olivia.

Damien had a few ideas, but we pretty much agreed there was a low probability she’d participate in the celebrations. It was… well, it wasn’t ‘fine’. But it was unfortunately expected. It didn’t matter if I just stockpiled her stuff outside her door for later, as long as she got stuff that might brighten her spirits.

She’d probably open them in her room late into the night after everyone went to bed. It was disappointing to think that I wouldn’t get to see that smile of hers. But as long AS she smiled, that was fine.

I felt an urge to do… ‘something’ for her. Something that felt more meaningful. More… ‘intimate’ wasn’t quite the right word. An olive branch of sorts between us beyond just some material things she might enjoy. But the ideas for what that could be were completely blank.

Everything that did pop in my head just felt like an expensive knee-jerk showy purchase like Old Inco would do. If I couldn’t make it meaningful, the price didn’t matter. And the gift didn’t matter.

I sighed.

I guess on that regard, just like my old man, I’d have to ‘wing it’.

As a hail mary play that I knew wouldn’t work, I took a picture of the mall on my phone and opened the messaging app.

I appended the picture on my chat with Olivia, unchanged since I sent my last message and typed out a message.

“Doing some last minute shopping. Let me know if there was something you wanted for Christmas.”

Sent.

She probably wouldn’t say anything back. I wasn’t even sure if she would read it now that ‘making sure I wasn’t dead’ was crossed off her list. But I wanted to try and normalize us communicating again. Even if only about fairly mundane things.

A minute later, and the message was marked as read.

No indication a reply was incoming though.

Fair enough. Guess gifting for the gator-girl would be entirely up to me.

I knew what the gift wouldn’t be. That’d have to be a good enough start for now. Failing that, nothing was better than something shallow.

We pulled into the parking lot of the shopping mall and I instinctively groaned. The place was absolutely packed.

Christmas shopping.

On Christmas eve.

We have chosen death.

It took several minutes before Dad was able to find us a parking spot waaaaay at the edge of the lot. I almost had to squint to see the buildings. Partially because they were a good walk away, partially because the snow was cutting visibility a fair bit.

Partially because I was just being a bit dramatic.

Still, it was a good walk before we finally hit the doors. My new big, poofy coat Dad had picked up for me yesterday when he was out along with other supplies was keeping me warm. It wasn’t a particular designer model, but man it kept the snow and cold off me. I think Dad went out of his way to pick something that looked warm. Which made sense, since I had just been in the hospital.

Unfortunately, I had also just recently been in the hospital. I was almost back up to full power now, but my stamina was still lower than it had been before the formal. We managed to hit the doors and I took a seat on a nearby bench to let my aching legs rest.

“You ok, sweetie?” Mom asked.

I nodded as best I could. Supposedly I had to wear this collar for another couple weeks but man was I sick of it already. The good news was, the scarf Mom had covered it up for the most part, so at least I shouldn’t draw much attention.

Dad wandered to one of the nearby kiosks and tossed over a few bucks for a soda to the liopleurodon manning it. I pounded back the fizzy drink and the burning sensation in my throat, along with the boost of sugar helped speed my recharge.

Mom and Dad continued to win back a slow, steady tick of points. It was weird. They were just…suddenly here. And they could actually act like parents. Wow, what a shock! It’s almost like that’s all they needed to do in the first place. 

I stamped down that flash of bitterness. The sensation may be correct, but we were working on it. They were putting in their part, albeit late, of trying to be present parents, so I wasn’t going to just sit and constantly fester about it. Not while we were out and trying to do something together.

I let out a sigh and stood, tossing the bottle in the trash.

I definitely had some residual issues of my own to work out. These flashes of anger were clearly not good for anyone, least of all myself. Maybe I’ll bring them up whenever I get a chance to talk to Mr. Ferris. Capitalize on that counciling stuff he’d mentioned. For all I knew it was some residual stuff that sparked off from Mr. Iadakan’s death.

Not like I was a therapist.

I flashed my parents a thumbs up and we took off into the mall proper.

Randy, grillmaster saint of the Paynes, was the first target. I wanted to pick him up some seasonings for their next cookout. Mom and Dad had made a mention of various grill accessories as well, so I let them tackle that angle. I’d also passed along that Damien suggested books from Randy’s favorite novel series which, interestingly, Dad also liked. He called dibs on that one and knew just where to look.

Probably for the best, as I only had a vague recollection of the books he was reading while he was staying with me.

We hit a few specialty stores and were able to tackle the grill-related stuff pretty quickly. I wasn’t positive if the spices were actually as good as the one he used at the cookout, but the overweight raptor working the section highly recommended them, so we went with it.

Vinny was, thankfully, a pretty easy pick. We hit a toy store and I happened to find a whole section for Power Raptors. I thought to grab the first action figure I saw, but I held off. I wasn’t sure which ones he did or didn’t already have, so I skimmed a little longer and hit paydirt.

A toy dartgun set, styled after one of the blaster weapons of one of the Raptors. I remembered at the cookout when me, Olivia, Damien and Vinny used the dart guns to engage in an impromptu backyard war. …with Liz getting the brunt of the projectiles.

A smile pulled at my face at the memory. Liz may give me the stink eye on Christmas, but I think Vinny would like this. Mom and Dad took my cue on the matter and got attachments and a massive pack of supplemental darts. Perfect. Vinny would be able to terrorize his family for days with all this.

Damien was likewise pretty simple. He had a loooooong list of video games on his to-get list, so the three of us just picked 3 games each from the list and grabbed anything that looked and sounded good. That was enough games to keep him preoccupied for the next year. Maybe. None of us recognized the franchises offhand, but Damien gave me the list himself. 

I trusted he knew what he wanted.

That left Liz, Sophia and Olivia.

We hit a bookstore next. I didn’t have a good idea for Liz, and even less on offer for my parents to work with, but we figured we’d just see what was in here. 

Damien had recommended a book series Sophia had talked about, but he wasn’t sure what volumes she had. We resolved to just get the first three, one volume from each of us. Thankfully that was all in stock, so another easy mark off for everyone involved.

As I wandered the shelves trying to find anything that spoke ‘Liz’ to me, I let my mind wander. What did Liz… even like? She was smart. Coordinated. Knew what she wanted to an almost supernatural degree. Upfront and maybe honest to a fault.

I remembered my lunch date with her and Olivia, and remembered how I had wished that had gone better.

She had talked about her business plans. She was going to be an art dealer. Take artists' paintings and then market and sell them to buyers of interest. Apparently Mr. Ferris was happy to let her utilize his connections as a boost for the new business as soon as she was done with school.

In less than 6 months Liz would be taking her business off the ground and she’d probably become some terrifying art-magnate. It would suit her, though. She deserved it.

I found myself in books about art, my legs clearly following where my mind wandered. I skimmed the books as I strolled. Maybe I should get a book on business or startups?

I shook my head at the notion.

Liz would probably already have read all of the ones I was likely to have found in here anyways. She said it herself that while she liked art, she was definitely focusing more on the business side.

I had nearly hit the end of the row when I spotted a book on the endcap.

“A History of Art and It’s Dealers”

It has a picture of a marble bust of some probably famous dino on it I didn’t recognize. But that subject matter was perfect. I flipped it over and sure enough, the description of it felt… ‘right’. An investigative history into the world of art dealers. Passion, greed, artistic fervor. Different methods for how they valued the art and more.

There was a non-zero chance that she already had this too but this felt… like a good gift choice. Even if she had a copy, it would show an honest effort to give her something of meaning. And that was the point.

I grabbed the book and navigated back through the aisles to find my parents. Mom had found the book series Sophia had been interested in, and Dad nabbed his own gift for Randy. We found our way to the front and handily paid for the bookapalooza.

I carried the bag as we rounded the exit of the outlet back into the mall proper when I almost ran face first into the extended snout of a brachiosaurus that was entering head-first. I stumbled backwards, landing on my butt, and my parents were quick to rush to me to make sure I didn’t manage to hurt myself yet again.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” the dino apologized.

I lifted myself up and collected the bag before squaring myself out so I could apologize for my not paying attention. That plan was derailed as I stooped for the bag when I heard her call my name.

“I-inco?”

Oh. Oh hell, it was Liz.

I looked up and sure enough the teal scaled, red headed… head was floating above me as her body caught up into the store proper.

“Uh… heyh,” I returned the greeting, my slurred speech making it difficult.

She took clear stock of me now, her face regressing from the initial shock, to her neutral smile… to her subtle disappointment. Yeah. Yeah, fair enough Liz.

“I didn’t expect to run into you out here. I had heard you were awake, but didn’t know you were out.”

Damn it Damien. I know I’m not actually important to Liz, but you could keep your girlfriend up on current events.

As I pulled out my phone, Liz shot me a confused look.

“You know our son?” Mom asked.

Liz was shaken from her examination of what I was doing and brought back to the two adult humans in front of her.

“Oh! You’re Inco’s parents. Of course. I’m sorry. I’m a friend of his, from school,” she answered, putting on a companionable smile.

Well, she didn’t immediately throw me in the garbage, so we’ll take it.

I had my phone out and stylus at the ready now.

“Sorry. Took a sec. How have you been Liz?” I noted down.

She read the message and looked back to me, her smile faltering. I could see the confused wheels turning in her head before she settled on the likeliest explanation.

And… there it is.

Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened slightly.

Damien didn’t tell her that little tidbit either.

My man, I’m going to team up with her and tear you a new one later.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, I didn’t… Damien didn’t say..” 

Well, to her credit, she clearly was actually upset about the news of that.

“Hang on,” I note to her.

I turn to my parents and jot down an explanation. It was Liz, Damien’s girlfriend. She hasn’t seen me since the formal. 

They nodded, taking the information in, and then I extended an offer to Liz, turning my phone’s screen back to her.

“Want to find a place to sit down for a minute?”

Welp, here we were.

Me, my parents, and Liz, just sitting at a table at the food court of a mall packed with last-minute Christmas shoppers. Not how I expected this to go, really. I couldn’t tell if this would be better or worse than whatever plan I had to try and talk to Liz on Christmas. Probably better?

If she blew up at me for what I did to Damien and the Paynes at least it wouldn’t be in front of them.

Thankfully for my hands, my parents were taking point of the small talk and getting Liz caught up on what she’d been more or less left out on. Well, Mom was. Dad was just awkwardly picking at his leftover fries.

Same Dad. Same.

“That’s terrible!” Liz said, after Mom finished her recap.

“It’s fine. I certainly brought it down on myself,” I noted on my phone.

“Damien said you and him had fought, but I’ll admit, I was too angry at Uncle Mike for hurting Damien to really pay attention,” Liz said, her expression darkening.

Mom had a slightly confused expression on her face. That was one of the spots I’d intentionally left the details fuzzy for them.

“Your Uncle hurt Damien? But he’s such a nice boy!” Mom was aghast.

“Oh, well. Yes. It was when-” Liz started to explain, but her eyes drifted over to me.

My expression stopped her dead in her tracks.

‘Do not. Not right now.’

Liz, being the bright girl she was, picked up on where the cards were on the table right now, and pivoted smoothly.

“It was during the formal, an accident with everything that had been going on. Still, even as an accident, Uncle Mike should have done better,” she concluded with a huff.

“Oh that’s just terrible. Family… family shouldn’t fight.”

Liz looked to my mom, then to Dad, then back to me.

“I agree, yes.”

I noted a flash in her eyes as she looked at me. I couldn’t tell what the meaning was, but I got the general intent. Alright Liz, may as well do this.

I scratched out a note on my phone and showed it to Dad. He read it, looked to Mom who was trying to kickstart the smalltalk storm with Liz again, and then shifted his gze to Liz. Who was staring at me.

After a moment he returned focus to me, and simply nodded. Thanks, Dad.

“Hey Hon, we still gotta get stuff for Inco,” he said, standing, “How about we pair off and he can catch up with Liz here, while we do that. Wouldn’t want to ruin any surprises, right?”

“Oh, oh! Yes, actually, that would be smart. I’m sorry Liz, but we really should probably do that. How about we meet back up here in an hour?”

Liz nodded, her head bobbing on the end of her long neck.

“Of course, Mrs. Nito. I’ll make sure Inco here is right on time,” she affirmed the plan with a smile.

Dad gave me a parting pat on the shoulder and I watched them break off and move into the crowd. As they left, I watched their hands clasp together as they walked. Hm.

What felt like an old memory popped into my head.

Mm. Your folks together? They love each other too, yeah?

It was that groom. Mr. Iadakan’s friend. Back at the wedding when he tried to give me advice about Olivia. At the time, I honestly didn’t know my parents well enough to really answer him. They never really showed any obvious displays of affection in the scant times they were around me. Mostly because the times they were around me, they were exhausted, or asleep.

Olivia told me that they would only work that hard if they cared about me, and I agreed with her then, and I agree with her even more now having been able to spend some time around them. They… aren’t good parents. But they care. About me.

And seeing Mom giggling at something Dad said as I lost track of them in the crowd, I could tell that they loved each other too.

Even with all the difficulty in their lives - which was admittedly almost entirely self inflicted - they loved me. And they loved each other. Even when they were tired, or frustrated or angry, they didn’t stop caring.

I wasn’t sure what this realization or feeling was. But I could tell it was important.

Maybe I’ll ask Randy about it.

Or maybe I’ll just ask them.

“Uh… Inco?”

Liz brought me out of my fugue and back to the overly packed shopping mall.

“Are you OK?” she said, concerned.

“Yeah. Just thinking,” I noted.

“Going off what Damien’s said, you’ve been doing that a lot,” she replied with a soft smile.

“Better late than never. Come on,” I noted back.

We took off into the mall, going the opposite way from my parents. I would take a periodic glance at Liz, whose head was casually bobbing around, looking at stores, or even popping into stores as we walked past, like a drive-by window shopper.

For whatever level of inconvenience that neck must cause her, it clearly has its moments, too.

She wasn’t pushing the issue, but only an idiot couldn’t tell she wanted to talk. 

Clearly New Inco must be different, because I’d bet money Old Inco wouldn’t have noticed at all.

Liz wasn’t the type to yell or get particularly emotional. The only time I really saw her lash out at all was that snipe she made at Olivia during the lunch date we had. And even then her voice barely raised above normal speaking volume. 

So if she had… choice words to say, I don’t think we’d need to worry about making a scene. Any old place that was quieter than the rest would probably suffice.

My eyes caught a little… ‘stuff’ store.

“Eternal Memories”

Huh.

I waved to get Liz’s attention and navigated over to it. Sure enough, there was a sleepy looking ankylosaur behind the counter, and one old triceratops looking at a case of watches, but the store was otherwise deserted.

That’ll work.

I pointed my thumb inside and she followed without a word.

As we navigated to the back, I started to get an idea of what this store was about. Little knicknacks and odd items you could get engraved with messages. Watches, bangles, necklaces and more that they would custom inscribe with a message that was hard to wear away.

Example messages like ‘Our Love is Eternal’ or ‘I Will Always Remember You’ or wedding dates and the like were plastered on the walls by the front counter. The messages, which were happy in any other context, made my throat tighten slightly. 

If I hadn’t screwed things up so badly with Olivia, maybe I’d be getting something like that for her.

But now? I’d pretty much resolved to settle for ‘I Don’t Actively Hate You’.

I sighed.

Liz took note, but didn’t say anything.

We worked our way into the back of the store, with some of the memorabilia racks blocking line of sight from the counter. Well, mostly. Liz’s head, predictably, extended up nearly to the ceiling before swinging back down to eye level.

“So…” she opened.

I let out a long breath through my nose, and gave her what nod I could, phone at the ready.

“To start: I apologize. I ruined the winter formal. I ruined what would have been a special night for you and Damien. I screwed up things for your boyfriend’s family. I made you have to be angry at your uncle.”

She read my message, her face neutral. Liz had a damned good poker face. I took a mental note to never try and play her in card games.

“I’ve spent the time since I woke back up thinking and coming to terms with what I was and what I did. I’m a terrible person. But I’m trying to make things right. I’ve worked out things best I can with Randy and Damien. But I want to make it right for everyone. Vinny, Sophia, you, Olivia, Mr. Ferris.”

She considered for a moment, adopting her trademark expression of her eyes rolling up and to the right, her chin tilted away. I wasn’t sure if it was something she forced herself to do to sell the ‘I’m deep in thought’ thing, or if she didn’t realize she was doing it at all. But it was oddly endearing.

“Why?” she finally asked.

“Because all of you deserve better than having to deal with the mess I made. It’s my mess. I need to clean it up. Not any of you.”

For only a moment, her eyebrow arched before settling back into a neutral place. I don’t think she actually expected me to so bluntly own up to what I did before.

“I’m surprised. I didn’t expect you… to really take ownership of it all,” Liz hummed.

“Liz, lets be real. I was a shit person. I probably still am. But I realized I can’t bring everyone down to my level. I’ll tell you what I told Damien.”

As always, Damien’s mention caught her attention.

“When this is all over, if everyone’s happy but you all hate me, then I’m fine with that.”

Surprisingly, that soured her expression.

“Do you think any of us want to hate you?”

That question seized my brain entirely.

Well… no. I don’t think anyone in this situation WANTS to hate me. I never really thought about it because being hated was what I deserved. I did so many awful things in such an unrepentant and hideous way that I had EARNED that hatred.

But I don’t think anyone wanted to have to do that, either.

I worked through that for a moment, before returning to my phone.

“No.”

“I’ll admit. I was angry at Uncle Mike for hurting Damien. Damien tried to explain what all had happened that night, but I wasn’t having it. It was only after we left the hospital and got home we sat down and talked.”

I indicated for her to continue.

“He looked so tired. Of everything. But he told me, again, everything he saw that night. Confronting you. You taking those pictures. Him hitting you, then destroying your camera. He told me about how mad he was when you were hurt. He was so angry at you that he was mad you were maybe dead. Damien said that, out of everyone.”

I remembered him quietly crying yesterday when he told me. I had to swallow the lump in my throat before returning my focus to Liz.

“And when I thought through everything, I got mad at you too. I think you already figured that was the case,” she said, her head lifting to gaze out into the store.

I nodded.

“I’m not sure we’re really friends, Inco. I’m not entirely sure if we ever really were. We talked at lunch, which was fun. We did the thing at the arcade, but if I’m being honest that was just as much an excuse to spend time with Damien as it was getting Olivia there.”

That one got a chuckle out of me. I remember noticing it myself fairly quickly during our trip.

“You weren’t really trying to hide it,” I noted.

“No, I guess I wasn’t,” she blushed after reading, “Though you and Olivia weren’t really trying to hide your feelings either.”

I didn’t really have a counter to that. I hadn’t realized it at the time, of course, but I had feelings for Olivia, and she definitely did for me.

“But even after that, when I invited you two to that fancy lunch date…”

“It was meant as a double date so you could have a fancy meal with Damien,” I finished for her.

“Exactly, yes. You and I hadn’t really ever just… talked or did anything together before. You were a friend of my boyfriend, and a boyfriend of his sister,” she sniffed and laughed wetly.

She drooped her head back down and pulled some tissues out of her bag and dabbed at her eyes.

“What a weird ‘friend’ group we were.”

I nodded again.

“I lashed out at Olivia at the lunch. It was stupid of me. I knew she was struggling, and I could see you were trying to diffuse the situation, but… well. You said it yourself. No one can do that quite like Damien can.”

“Yeah,” was all I could offer at the moment.

“I think that was where you two started just becoming ‘people associated to my boyfriend’ for me, which is awful to say out loud. Olivia’s behavior set me off, you were… not very socially capable. I was certainly happy when you two got together, of course! Even with Mr. Iadakan’s passing there was a bright moment” she continued.

She sighed.

“But, that high moment didn’t seem to last long. Mr. Iadakan was dead, and I was sad for his passing like everyone. But I didn’t know him as well as you or Olivia. And I could tell it hit the both of you hard. But looking back I should have tried to do or say anything. I didn’t know either of you that well, but I could have tried. Instead I just was happy to have more time to spend with Damien.”

A deep frown formed on her face. I wanted to say something, but between a feeling in my gut, and my slow speed of communication, I let it sit.

“I like to think of myself as someone that can see the big picture. I have everything all planned out. I’d get my perfect job with art dealing. I’d make enough money to take care of me and Damien and he can just do things that make him happy. If he finds a stable career so much the better, but as long as we can be happy that’s fine enough for me.”

She was struggling with what she wanted to say. I had an inkling of what it was.

“And somehow I didn’t see what was happening to you or Olivia at all. I was in my own little world about Damien. I’m not going to say you and Olivia weren’t wrong, Inco. But I should have been able to see where things were going and even make an attempt to help - even if it wouldn’t have done anything. You don’t get all the blame in this.”

It echoed what I was told several times now. I’d failed, certainly. And more thoroughly than anyone else. But also everyone else failed too. Liz planned ahead. Had the big picture sorted out early. And in her own way, contributed to the trainwreck we found ourselves in.

I wanted to correct her. Tell her that it wasn’t a big deal, but that would denigrate her and her feelings. How it impacted Damien. How it impacted the Paynes, and how it hurt Olivia.

So I didn’t.

I just nodded.

“Olivia was right, of course. The job I want would be perfect for helping her. But like I’d said back then. She had all this support and help and just wallowed it away with her issues. And I should have realized how much more serious those issues were, then. I treated her like a child throwing a tantrum and didn’t… pay attention to what she actually was going through.”

Liz turned her gaze back to me fully.

“You say you want to make it right?”

I nodded again.

“How?”

The expected question. I pulled up my phone and gave some of the abridged notions I’d ran over with Damien yesterday. Damien and I had mostly repaired our relationship. It was now in a probationary period, which could be closed on good behavior. Liz seemed pleased about that.

“When he called me last night he did seem to be in a better mood. That must have been why,” she said with a smile.

“Remember to whack his noggin’ for not telling you about me, though,” I observed.

She laughed.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”

I continued to explain Vinny, Sophia, Ferris, Ben and finally Olivia far as my considerations go, same as Damien. My breakdown of the ‘fix everything plan’ was becoming truly a well oiled machine now. That was a little sad unto itself, but working through all this again, and getting generally a positive response from Liz, made me feel like this really was the right way to go.

I had an odd warming within me as I considered it. I couldn’t place it - what it was or why it was. Something to think about more later. Liz spoke again after considering the details and returned me to our conversation.

“Inco. As I said, I’m not sure if we ever really were friends. After what happened, the idea of being friends with you was… unpleasant. But I’ve done my own thinking, and you’ve done yours, clearly. Damien trusts you, and it sounds like Mr. Payne does as well. Whatever person you were before, you’re clearly different now.”

I could feel my cheeks reddening slightly.

“You were always someone that spent a lot of time thinking, but I don’t think you ever really… how would I say it… ‘really thought about things’? You spent a lot of time in your head. You sometimes even got lost in your own little world mid conversation. But it never really felt like you considered what other people had to say when it was different from what you thought.”

I winced, but couldn’t disagree. She was pretty on point as far as I could recollect and consider of myself back before.

“But you seem to actually be thinking things through now. It’s not all that different from when I’m working out plans for the future. The first time I met, I’d asked you what you wanted to get out of St. Hammonds. What you wanted to do with your life. Do you remember what you said then?”

I cast my mind back. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I think I said I didn’t know,” I noted.

She nodded.

“You said something like ‘I don’t know, but it’s going to be big’. I remember hearing you say that, with a self assured expression on your face. Do you know what I thought? I thought ‘Oh good, another one of these guys. No plan, no future.’” she answered, her face falling to a neutral annoyance at the memory.

Oof. Yeah, that sounded like me. 

When you came around, I thought you were no different than the others.

That you were some self-centered, pretentious midwit who only cares about his image.

You didn't seem like the kind of person who cared about how he gets the attention from others, just that he gets it.

I recalled Olivia’s words after I found her in the rain. After she swapped my picture for her art for the contest. I remember at the time thinking that it was reductive. Maybe a little correct, but it wasn’t really ‘right’. But looking back on how everything fell apart after Iadakan passed away. How I didn’t do anything that wasn’t all ‘me, me, me’.

I realized that Olivia was more right than either of us knew at the time. And Liz had clued in on it even earlier than that.

“I think you ended up being pretty spot on,” I wrote.

“Back before, maybe,” she nodded, “but looking at you now, I think you’re on the right track. I don’t know what your long term plans are. But being able to make good short term decisions is a part of a greater strategy too. Damien said you were making an honest effort, and that he’d have your back. I was skeptical at the time, but now?”

She gave me a long, slow look over. Meeting New Inco properly for the first time. A human male, spending time with his parents for the first time in forever. Overly large poofy coat. I scarf that barely covers up his neckbrace. Prescription sunglasses that fail to cover up the black eye given by his best friend.

Who writes on his phone because of self-inflicted brain damage.

I met her gaze throughout it. I wasn’t sure if she could see that through the sunglasses, but I held firm under her scrutiny.

She finished her observation, taking in the barely held together mess of a person I was now, and nodded.

“I think he’s right. And you can count me in your corner too,” she concluded with a smile.

A wave of relief washed over me. I started this conversation with a hope it would go well, but a resolve to accept if it didn’t. That it actually DID go well lifted another weight off my shoulders.

Liz may or may not have realized that. But she did her part of this. Now it was on me to finish mine.

“Thanks, Liz. I won’t let you or anyone else down again. Not if I can help it,” I wrote.

“That’s all we need, Inco. And if you need any help with your more long term ambitions, feel free to ask. I’ve got plenty of experience,” she said with a bubbly laugh.

I gave her a smile and a nod.

Liz was a good person. Not perfect. She had her own difficulties with communicating, trying to walk a line of being ‘pleasant’ and keeping things real. Sometimes she failed. But as I looked at my phone, it settled on me that we sorta had that in common. Even before the formal, I had my own communication problems. A lot of them, really.

I was realizing that, more than anything, sitting down and actually just… talking, can fix a lot of things. Certainly not everything. But sucking it up and talking through the hard parts makes everything else the easy parts. It made me realize that was a big problem I had with Olivia. 

I stuffed that bit of concrete realization in the back pocket of my mind. If the opportunity arose, me and Olivia would have a real talk. A REAL talk. Whatever the result. It’d be better for us both. For everyone.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and gestured to Liz we could head out. We had about 30-ish minutes before we’d meet back up with my parents and I still needed to get something for them, as well as Olivia.

Liz’s head naturally cleared the doors of the shop before the rest of her, which I would continue to find amusing until the day I died. As I was walking towards the door I shot a glance towards the tired merchant, who gave me a curt, but pleasant nod. I went to return in kind when my eyes reflexively flicked to scan the contents of the glass enclosure that acted as the front counter.

In it were more trinkets, but these looked to be one-offs, unlike the other more mass produced watches or jewelry in the rest of the store. And then my eyes landed on one of the unique pieces and my chest constricted.

Lying within the counter, laid gingerly on a glass suspending frame, was a singular feather quill pen. It wasn’t quite the same shade as the one Iadakan had used -it was darker, but it was ultimately of a similar style, only this was braced with silver and thin bands of gold.

It took a great deal of effort to not let the tears overtake me. It was also as well that I couldn’t really talk anymore, because my throat had constricted to the point it’d have been impossible.

I walked to the counter and placed my hand on the glass, staring intently at the pen. The ankylosaur followed my line of sight and realized what I was staring at.

“Want to see it?”

I nodded as intensely as my brace would allow.

The shopkeeper gently lifted it out the back of the case and laid it on the counter, and gestured for me to take a closer look. I almost didn’t, but forced myself to lift the pen.

It was so similar.

“We don’t get these in very often. And even when we do, they usually sit for a long time. This isn’t the type of store that moves a crazy amount of product, but these sorts of things sit in the case for months at a time,” he explained, watching me, taking in my reverence.

I was surprised to hear that. I expected the store to be low traffic, but…

I pulled out my phone.

“Then why stock them if they hardly sell?” I noted down.

To the shopkeep’s credit, he didn’t react to having to read my question.

“Because when they DO sell, they’re sold to people with reactions like yours.”

I laid the pen back onto the frame and wiped my eyes. I didn’t make it through the conversation before they won out.

“The whole reason I started this little shop was to let people make their memories as permanent as possible. Memories of the best times. Life’s hard, kid. And things like that, and the emotions you’re feeling now is what makes life worth it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He was right.

I bought the pen on the spot and knew what I wanted engraved on it. He told me it’d take an hour, but would be ready for pickup then. I agreed without issue and thanked him yet again with a parting wave as I left the store.

To her credit, Liz had been waiting patiently outside.

“Are you ok?”

I nodded.

I really was.

The rest of the shopping excursion went smoothly. Liz stayed with us for a bit longer and clearly enjoyed talking to my parents. I think they had a lot of the same crazy business drive she had, so there was a good common ground there.

Eventually though, she did have to break off and complete the original reason she was at the mall in the first place: to get her Uncle Mike a Christmas present.

“You don’t seem to be the type to leave things like that last minute,” I noted.

“Well, after I had heard what he did to Damien I… may have thrown his original gift away,” she said, clearly embarrassed.

I couldn’t stop the snort of a laugh that escaped me.

“Inco!” she hissed, but I could see the playful smirk on her snout.

“You’re good. And I’m glad things are squared away with you two. I’m planning on talking to him myself next time I see him. If you get a chance, can you let him know?” I wrote.

She confirmed she would and finally broke off, leaving just myself and my parents.

“Find everything you needed then?”

I lifted my bags of giftable riches in my left hand, and kept a intricately carved wooden box with the most important gift of the day in my right, tightly held to my chest.

I nodded.

We ate dinner together again. I could really get used to this. This time it was a little more conversational. Mom and Dad told me about the shopping they did. How it’d been a long time since they had taken time to just spend time like that together. I guess work kept them some relative distance apart, just like it’d kept them from me, huh?

I told Mom and Dad about my talk with Liz, and how I happened to spot what I think would be the perfect gift for Olivia.

“Oh, that pen? It was beautiful. What did you get engraved on it?”

I shook my head at her. She gave me a playful, motherly pout, but let it go. The words on that are for Olivia and no one else.

Dinner concluded, Mom and Dad offered to watch a movie with me, but I politely declined. I was clearly almost completely back on my game now,  and wasn’t tired at the end of the day like I had been recently. Even accounting for all the walking at the mall, oddly enough. Maybe it was less about my being weakened and more about the cold.

They settled in to watch a movie by themselves. Just before I crossed the threshold of the stairs and lost sight of the living room, I could see them cuddled up together on the couch, Mom resting her head on Dad’s shoulder, and his head on top of hers. A good son would let them have some quality time too.

Besides, I wanted some private time to work on my craft.

I changed into my sleep clothes and laid on my bed, pulling out my phone, and the stylus from it. I’d been doodling regularly since I got the new phone. I was watching videos on how to improve, and I think I was actually still getting better. Albeit slowly. 

And I legitimately found it fun.

Back when I arrived at St. Hammond, I had been disappointed that most of the artistically inclined were normal artists, rather than a photographer like me. It wasn’t a problem, but it was almost lonely. I didn’t really have any skill in traditional art mediums. I could certainly respect it. I’d loved Olivia’s creations, certainly.

But I don’t think I’d really ‘gotten’ it.

I remembered when the drawing game had happened in Ms. Prockling’s class. I’d contributed that first time, but then everyone got caught. The next time, Olivia initiated the game and no one partook and… I kept the paper. She had drawn something herself, but when no one else contributed, it didn’t feel right for me to try.

It felt so low stakes at the time, but looking back, it was just another point where I could’ve been there for Olivia. Someone she could just… do stupid doodles with. And I get it now. The doodles didn’t have to be GOOD. They were just doodles. It was just fun to draw stupid things. Share them with friends.

I also had realized over the last days I didn’t once think about replacing my camera. Being honest, the idea of getting back into photography grossed me out. All I could think of, when I’d imagine buying a new camera is Olivia’s face on that stage. Damien’s expression. Him destroying my old camera.

I couldn’t go back to that part of me. I was scared there was a chance I’d regress if I connected with that element of my past. Maybe it was dumb. Maybe it wasn’t.

But I did still want to create things. To do art. And to be able to do that, I’d have to practice. And practice I did.

I opened the art app on my phone and got back to doodling. My warmup routine, at this point after a few days of doing it reliably.

Olivia was a bit more Olivia. Damien a bit more Damien. I even tried adding Vinny, Randy and Sophia into the mix this time.

And Liz was still a long necked stick figure.

—

Christmas day.

I woke up about the same time I always did. My internal clock working about as well as always, given how erratic my schedule had been recently. I rolled out of bed, and made my way downstairs to get something to eat.

Mmm. Something smelled good. I yawned, bleary eyed as I entered the kitchen.

“Well, look who’s awake!” my mom cooed.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo,” Dad greeted.

Oh. Oh shit. That’s right. They were actually home for Christmas this year.

“Mehheh Chrihuh,” I returned.

To their credit, there was only a brief moment of a being taken abackness before their welcoming smiles greeted me. It was still weird even for me. And they were a bit behind yet. On top of the whole ‘haven’t really seen you in years’ energy.

But they just kept scoring points with me.

Mom had a pretty modest, but tasty-smelling breakfast of bacon and eggs prepared, which she began to dish up a plate of for me. Dad was scrolling on his phone and sipping at a cup of coffee. It felt like what I’d imagined a totally normal morning would be. And I got it for Christmas this year.

Not bad at all.

All we had to do was get them to work less and maybe this could even become kinda normal.

Mom and Dad small talked about the plan for today, which was to go over to the Paynes’ place in about an hour. Mom said Sophia confirmed there’d be food, but Mom felt like she had a Mom-ly duty to feed us something on an important day.

Worked out fine for me.

I went back up to my room and got changed and did my exercises. Randy, Damien and Liz. Halfway through the immediate group. Hopefully things would shake out ok today.

I finished up my routine and we had about 30 minutes before we needed to head out. Without much else to do, I opted to open the messaging app and send a Christmas greeting to our friend group.

It hurt to see no one had commented in it for quite some time now, but that was what the ice breaker was for.

I used my stylus and as best I could sketched out a shape vaguely like Damien in Santa clothes in a sleigh, throwing gifts to Olivia, Vinny and Liz. Naturally, Liz was still a stick figure.

The rest of the art wasn’t great. Or even particularly good. But I felt like you could at least tell who was who in it, and that was the important part for now.

I appended the message to the chat and fired it off.

Liz and Damien responded almost at the same time

“How cute!”

“Yoooooo!”

Glad to see they liked it. As expected, however, Olivia didn’t respond. 

Fair.

We got into the car and made our way to the Paynes. It’d actually been a whole week since I’d last been here but it legitimately felt… nostalgic. Like I hadn’t really been to their place in ages. Maybe it’d been some time since I’d really, truly ‘been there’ and not just present at that location.

Volcaldera Bluffs doesn’t really get snow, but this year clearly proved out to be a bit of a freak occurrence. It had been snowing most of yesterday, and I think throughout most of the night. The ground had a thick, fluffy blanket of white. Going through the neighborhood, the snow combined with the various decorations on various houses really locked in the sensation that it was Christmas time.

It was absolutely charming.

We stepped out of the car into the cleared driveway. Randy must’ve gotten up early to clear it out for us. I make a note to thank him for that little bit of kindness later. Dad and I carry the boxes and bags as Mom gets to the door and thumbs the doorbell.

Interestingly, Sophia is the one that answers it.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Nito! I’ve heard a lot about you from Randy!” she said, exuding ‘stressed but happy’ mom energy.

My mother titters back her own motherly greeting while me and Dad are awkwardly left standing out in the cold. He shot me a look that said ‘Moms small talk, right?’ I couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

Shortly after we were ushered inside. Sophia was directing us to place our present-y parcels by their tree. After laying everything out onto a surprisingly large pile of stuff, I reflexively stole a glance at Olivia’s room. Door closed. My eyes flitted around the living room itself, and nope. No Olivia.

Damn.

It wasn’t surprising, it’d only been a week since… everything. But still. One had hoped.

That said, the Paynes’ house was absolutely decked out for the holidays. Wreaths, Lights, tinsel. Even little ceramic houses and buildings in some sort of mock display of a town with little people - mostly dinos of course - doing wintery activities.

It was adorable.

Of course that paled in comparison to the tree. It reached to just under the ceiling and by the smell I could tell it was a real tree. Various string lights and ornamental baubles hunt on it’s branches. Some were the regular spherical sort. Others were clearly more meaningful and sentimental in value.

This place just screamed “traditional Christmas”. I took some mental notes down for ideas for next year. There was a chance Mom and Dad would want to try and commit to this whole “being present for our son” thing and if so maybe we could host next year’s Christmas at our place. And if we were going to do that, we’d do it right.

Damien finally knocked me out of my thoughts, literally, with a slap on the shoulder.

“Inky, dude! You were spacing out again!” he had his trademarked wide smile on his face.

I gave him a smile and a shrug as a ‘my bad’ response, but he wasn’t bothered at all.

“Liz should be here in a bit. They’re doing their own Christmas junk at the moment, so she’ll be by later.”

I nodded, thinking back to my own gift I got for her. Hopefully she’d like it.

Everyone settled into the furniture. Randy had pulled Sophia onto his lap on his recliner while Damien and Vinny were practically vibrating on the floor in front of me. Mom and Dad sat with me on the couch proper, myself seated at the far end.

After a little bit of small talk, Randy happened to meet my gaze and he fired me off a warm smile. So far, Christmas was going well. I’d find time to issue my apologies to Sophia and Vinny, but for now this was good.

But I couldn’t help myself.

I jerked my head towards Olivia’s door and scrunched my eyebrows as to say “Is she joining?”

Randy’s smile faltered a little, and gave me a sad shake of his head. We both expected it, but still.

Mom and Dad, were, thankfully none the wiser of the context. And everyone else was too keen to not dredge up that sore spot for today. Even Vinny seemed in good spirits, though there was a solid chance that was because he had already inhaled a ton of Christmas candy and couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore.

With the way he was vibrating on the floor in excitement next to Damien, I could swear I could see him phasing out of our reality.

After a little longer of small talk, Sophia finally clapped her hands and announced we may as well get on with the show.

Predictably, Vinny launched off the ground. I didn’t see his legs move. So it was either his tail strength alone, or the power of sugary treats that allowed him to cancel gravity like that.

Note to self, if we do street hockey, Vinny doesn’t get sugar beforehand. He’d probably actually accidentally kill me.

We doled out various gifts and opened them in kind. Vinny adored the nerf set and attachments, with Damien nearly matching his excitement. Randy bellowed out a laugh while Sophia shook her head, dreading the mess that would lead.

Damien was more than happy with the games us three had selected. He picked them, after all. 

“Dude! This should keep me busy for at least a week! Maybe two!”

…How many games did this guy play?

“We’ll have to play some of these together later, man. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” Damien stated, his eyebrows waggling in excitement at the chance to absolutely demolish me.

“Yeah! We’ll go easy!” Vinny echoed, though his cackle was even less subtle about his true intentions.

“Yeah, yeah,” I noted down my response for them, resigning myself to my fate.

Vinny stared at the phone and message a little longer than ‘normal’, but he was still getting used to it. I think Randy and/or Sophia had told him what was up so he wasn’t completely surprised by it, but-

“Why are you just writing it out? That’s dumb,” he said, tilting his head quizzically.

“Vinny!” Sophia hissed.

“What! If he just used text-to-speech like they always do online it’d be easier!” Vinny said in his own defense.

Wait, what?

“Vinny, what do you mean?” I noted.

“You can just have it say what you write. People do it all the time on YouSnoot instead of using their real voice. How old ARE you, Inky?”

First: rude.

Second, wow I’m an idiot. I never even considered text-to-speech.

What alleviated the embarrassment ever-so-slightly, was Damien echoing my sentiment.

“Hey, yeah! That didn’t even occur to me either! Smart thinking, Vin!” Damien said, drawing his little brother into a hug-headlock.

As more gifts were opened, I started searching around for a good TTS option. Man, there were a lot. And I had no idea which ones would be good. I pocketed the idea for now. Something to look into later when we weren’t doing family stuff. But seriously, big win for Vinny today.

Randy enjoyed the seasonings I got him. He said it was already giving him ideas for the cookout next year, and that me and my parents would have to attend. Naturally we agreed.

Randy and Sophia loved the books, as well, of course. Dad knocked it out of the park with Randy’s book, but unfortunately was the only one of the three that provided Sophia a duplicate volume of her books. Even so, Sophia was effusive with her thanks. 

Mom, Dad and myself exchanged our gifts. They weren’t anything particularly special we were too unfamiliar with each other to really land on ‘meaningful’, but to our credits, no one just chickened out and went with gift cards.

We’d worked through pretty much everything now. Mom and Dad got little Christmas memorabilia from Randy and Sophia. Little ceramic houses like the ones on their mantle. I think they figured that since my parents were into architecture, something building related may land well. Fortunately, it did.

Randy got me a new sweatshirt. A blue similar to my old jacket. Sophia provided me hand-knit gloves. They looked insanely warm. The gift from Damien and Vinny was apparently a joint-agreement effort, in that they picked one of their old consoles and the games for it to give to me.

“Maybe with some practice you’ll put up an actual challenge” Damien joked, playfully punching me in the arm.

Vinny echoed the sentiment and also punched me in the arm. Thankfully this one was acid-free.

It was a lot more than I’d deserved this year. I probably didn’t even actually deserve coal, let alone all this, but I was undeniably happy. 

Damien and Vinny managed to convince me to go out front to make snow dinos with them. The cold was still rough on me, but I was more than happy to oblige. It also gave me a chance to put the gloves Sophia made to use.

It took a while to really get the snoots of the snow dinos to work, but with a clever application of packed snow and sticks for support, we managed to figure it out. Soon enough there was a snow Damien, Vinny and myself.

Damien was busy trying to figure out the logistics of a snow-Liz but the neck continued to be an insurmountable challenge. As I looked at the spread of the ‘snow family’ I felt like there needed to be one more. Regardless of the status of… ‘us’. Olivia deserved to be represented alongside Damien and Vinny too.

I made quick work of the snowlivia, settling to avoid the chair and just have it lying stomach-down on the ground. With it concluded, I looked to Damien to find he also had resolved to have snow-Liz laying down, and the neck snaked well out into the rest of the yard, twisting and turning.

That got a good laugh out of me and Vinny, but Damien insisted it was ‘accurate’.

We returned indoors before the three of us froze entirely. Randy passed out the mugs of his homemade hot cocoa as we settled back in for more small talk and gentle, Christmas-y vibes. Everyone was busy talking, or - in Vinny’s case, cracking out one of the gifts with a retro game console and firing it up.

It made me remember my shopping trip with Olivia again. Where she’d been happy for that cheap, retro purchase and I’d denigrated it in my head. Seeing Damien and Vinny whoop and holler as they tried to work their way through the crushingly difficult legacy games kind of made me realize why Olivia had wanted it in the first place.

 While everyone was distracted by the show, my ears tuned to an almost imperceptibly soft ‘click’ to my left. My head slowly turned and I found myself looking at a singular eye peering at me from the cracked door to Olivia’s room. The column of light illuminated her silver and yellow eye, And that eye was staring directly at me.

My breath seized.

I hadn’t seen her since the formal. My last memory of her was the look of abject horror and confusion as we tumbled down those stairs. I couldn’t see enough of her to read her expression, but our eyes were locked for what felt like hours. She watched me for that heartbeat of time, unblinking. If her expression had changed, I couldn’t see it. And after a moment longer, the door quietly clicked back shut. 

I let out the breath I was holding and sank back into the couch.

“Inco, what’s wrong?” Mom asked.

I noted down a ‘nothing’ to her and things settled back to how they were before. I looked to Randy and Sophia, and both of them met my gaze. They’d caught at least part of that silent engagement, though they didn’t have any better idea what it meant either.

Liz arrived a little while later, and, as I hoped, she adored my book choice. She had other books like it, but thankfully I managed to have a lucky break and pick one she didn’t. She handed out her own gifts and they were received by the Paynes with the appropriate gratitude as well.

I asked her how things went with her Uncle, and she informed me that they had talked through at least part of it properly this time. And he did love her backup gift. That was good to hear. I’d hate for things to stay tense with them.

She also informed me she had passed along my wishes to meet up when able and apparently the best time for that would be when we returned to school after the new year. I thanked her for acting as my personal messenger on the matter and let her wander off to make herself comfortable at Damien’s side.

I also took the opportunity to wander to the Kitchen and, at my request, my parents gave me some space so I could talk to Sophia. The good news was, it went well. I laid out my thinkings over the last week. My failures, and my resolution to do things better and make them right.

She accepted it graciously. She knew it was coming, of course. Randy and Damien certainly kept her well advised of ‘me matters’. But she deserved, and appreciated, being told it directly by me.

She also took the time to apologize for her own behavior. Letting the stress of everything hit a breaking point, putting the work of helping Olivia all on me. It was a talk I’d already had with Randy, but again, she felt I deserved to hear it from here, and it was appreciated.

I let the adults get back to small talk and took a seat next to Vinny as he wailed away on the retro console’s controller.

Damien and Liz had retreated  off to a corner of the house to give me a bit of space,

“Hey Vinny,” I wrote.

“Hey, Inky. You should use the TTS stuff,” he said when he finally noticed my message.

“I’m an old doodoofart. I’ll have to figure it out later,” I replied.

He laughed about that, but then caught himself.

“Mom said I shouldn’t call people that.”

“Probably not. But I think I deserved it.”

“Huh?” he asked, confused.

“I know Olivia yelled at you. And hurt your feelings. That was wrong of her to do. You were just being a good little brother. But she’s been unwell. And I didn’t do as much as I should have to help her. Or you or Damien. Or your parents,” I explained.

He didn’t really get it, but when he looked to his parents, they gave a gentle nod.

“Um… ok, Inky. I just want Livy to be happy again. Damien and Mom and Dad are happier but she’s still sad.”

“I know. I want her to be happy too,” I wrote back.

Nothing else to be said, we returned our focus to the game.

As things began to wind down and my parents were getting prepared to leave, I wandered my way over to Olivia’s door. I didn’t really know what to say. I’d been thinking about it since yesterday, and ultimately drew up a blank.

Part of my problem was being an idiot about what I said, but my newfound condition was proving as much a help as a hindrance in keeping my impulsive stupidity in check. I’ve been learning that if, after some thought, I couldn’t think of anything to say, then I shouldn’t be saying anything.

More important than that, though, is like Liz had said. I needed to actually listen and think more..

I sat down, and I rested against the wall by the door to her room. I looked at the wrapped gift in my hand. I think I did a pretty good job on wrapping it. Hopefully she’d like it. And like the gift inside. I really felt it had meaning. For both of us.

The Paynes had their own gifts for Olivia, but I think they were willing to just let Olivia follow her pattern from the last week. She’d come out at some point tonight, and she’d see her gifts under the tree and be able to take them.

But I couldn’t settle for that for her. Not with my gift. Not this one.

I laid the gift down in front of her door, and gently rapped my knuckles on it twice.

I looked up to see the four adults paused, waiting to see how things would go. I don’t know if Randy and Sophia had told Mom and Dad anything about Olivia. They probably did. The looks on their faces told me they realized this was important, if nothing else.

They were giving me time.

I sat by the door for several minutes before I could hear a quiet shuffling in her room. Another pause, and then a quiet ‘click’. I could hear the door slide open quietly, then seize. I looked at the floor where my gift was and after another moment, Olivia’s hand silently reached out, clasped the gift, and disappeared it into the room. The door closed behind with another click.

I sat there for another few moments, but after hearing nothing else, I sighed.

That was probably the best I was going to get today.

I lifted myself off the ground and joined my parents at the door. We said our goodbyes and headed home.

Other than that slightly somber conclusion, spirits were high. Mom and Dad loved the Paynes, and I saw no indication that - original meeting with Randy aside - the Paynes had an issue with my parents. For the moment.

It probably entirely depended on if Mom and Dad kept up with the whole ‘being here’ thing on if it’d shake out in the future.

We went home, and had a nice dinner that Mom prepared for us, and I retreated to my room.

Hopefully Olivia liked the gift. It wasn’t intended to repair everything. Or fix our relationship. Whether that happened or not was for later. 

What was important right now was to get Olivia feeling like Olivia again. Like she did when we first started dating. Or even before then. She was brighter, she had tons of motivation, she loved to create and draw and paint.

But as things fell apart, and I kept failing her, that love of creating started dying. By the time of the formal it was looking like she was going to abandon art entirely.

So for now. Step 1 in my siege of the Fortress Olivia, was getting back that fire in her.

I thought back to my gift. It was a little cheesy. It was absolutely sentimental. But it had meaning. It was intended to remind her of Mr. Iadakan. How he was her biggest fan and supporter. How he always pushed her and how he always believed in her, even when she didn’t believe in herself.

That quill pen I got her was an intentional mirroring of the one Iadakan always had. It was from his wife and it was his own ‘eternal memory’ of why he did what he did. A concrete representation of his ideals and his motivation in life.

If I was lucky, my gift would hold even a fraction of that power.

I thought back to what I’d told the shopkeep I wanted engraved on it. He had given me a small tweak of the eyebrow, as it certainly wasn’t one of the ‘normal’ things people engraved on that kind of thing. But he had been in the business to know long enough that it was those weirder phrases. The more personal and unique ones, that mattered the most.

“If you could leave right now and go do anything you wanted, what would you want to do?”

Some of the last words he said to the two of us before he died. An echoing of a question he asked her some time in the past.

And she had said…

I want to go see a fountain. And... and paint it for you.

At that moment, I couldn’t care less if Olivia never wanted to see me again.

I wanted her to want to go see that fountain.

And paint it.

My phone pinged, pulling me out of my thoughts and I had a new message. I tabbed over to the messaging app and jumped as I saw a reply from Olivia. The first reply I’d gotten from her in a long time

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

The last week of the year passed swiftly.

I continued to do my treatment exercises. I doodled even more than before. Damien would even join in on the doodles sometimes in our group chat, though his art looked even worse than mine somehow.

I think he was just running a claw along the touchscreen as a sort of pseudo-stylus and the results were wonky, jittery lines. But the quality of the work didn’t matter. Having fun did. Liz would chime in periodically complimenting the efforts, though it was pretty apparent she had a bias between the two of us.

Hardly a surprise.

Olivia didn’t respond at all.

But apparently she hadn’t been static. Damien mentioned that she had made a few appearances during the day in the last week. She only responded to inquiries with grunts, but her being visible during waking hours was at least a step in the right direction, I think. Progress is progress.

How much that had to do with my gift, neither I, Liz or the Paynes could say.

I’d like to think it helped a little though.

Beyond that, Mom continued to cook as much as she could, though we did fall back to takeout periodically. And Dad was pushing for us to watch movies together pretty much each night, with popcorn and everything.

We didn’t do it every night, but it was a nice bit of bonding we all enjoyed.

Wednesday saw my first follow up at the hospital. My one-week-since-discharge check in. The good news was that after the run of tests concluded, Dr. Niket was very pleased with how everything was looking. He seemed especially pleased with how my sticking to the exercises was helping my speaking ability, though I admit I couldn’t tell the difference. But he was adamant things were going well, and I was hardly in a mood to disagree with him.

New years was a significantly more reserved affair than Christmas for myself and my parents. Mom cooked again, and I think she was starting to shake off some of the rust. We played some of the board games that the Paynes insisted we just go ahead and keep. I suspect Sophia was using us as a convenient excuse to clear some storage space from the overflow of games-related stuff Damien and Vinny accumulated.

Mom and Dad enjoyed some champagne, I toasted with a cola.

New years wishes were had. 

I tossed in the group chat a similar line, which Damien and Liz reciprocated.

After that first hectic week of being ‘back’, this last week was almost annoyingly mundane. I didn’t actually mind, obviously. I’m more than happy to have a period of time without major shakeups, but I spent such a sprint of time doing so much that sitting around at home and practicing drawing almost made me feel… itchy.

The good news was, of course, that tomorrow was monday. And Monday was a new semester.

I suspected my life was about to ramp up in intensity again one way or another in very short order.

—

The morning routine was standard. Wake up, do my exercises, get changed, get food.

Mom didn’t have breakfast cooked today, unfortunately. They were actually going to have to go back to the office, which closed out the beautiful dream that was the last week and a half of having a normal functioning family.

Just as I was about to head out the door so I could catch the early metro, Dad stopped me.

“Hey, kiddo. Listen. Your Mom and I have been talking and… this last week and a half has been nice. You’ve clearly enjoyed it too. I know we haven’t been around, and that was a more or less conscious decision on our part. We meant well, and you seemed so independent and self-sufficient it seemed harmless. But obviously it was the opposite. To you, and to us.”

“Sure,” I responded with my still-kinda-new text to speech option.

The voice was still annoyingly flat and robotic, but it was clear and articulate, which was the big selling point. It may not be able to convey any emotion, but it was much easier to ‘talk’ with people than jotting everything down on a note.

I was still stuck picking context of when and where to use one mode or the other, but I’m sure that’d become normal enough for me soon.

Dad’s hand reached around the back of his head, rubbing it awkwardly.

Oh hey, he does that too, neat. I guess that’s where I got that from.

“Look, kiddo. We can’t NOT go to work. But your Mom and I agreed that this has been nice. Like, really nice. And you deserve us to be here for you. You deserved it before, but now more than ever. So when we go in today we’re going to work with our employees and see if we can’t figure out a better way to distribute the project workloads we have.”

“What?”

“We’d been so worried about anything going wrong and stuff blowing up on us if your mother and I weren’t hands on. It’s why we were always gone. It ‘had’ to be us. Someone else could have gotten it wrong. But we realized with the last week and a half of, well, nothing going wrong that we were being absurd.”

“So. Does this mean that you’ll work less?”

My heart rate started picking up. Could I dare to hope?

“Yeah, Inco. That’s the plan. I don’t think it’ll be instant. But if it’s at all possible, your mother and I are going to walk back what we have direct hands on and let others pick up the slack. It’s what we want. It’s what you need. And looking back at it, it’s probably better for our employees. I’m sure some of them felt like we considered them incompetent morons as we didn’t let them do much of the ‘real’ work.”

Holy shit. Personal growth for everyone.

It really was a new year.

I snaked my arms around my dad and pulled him into a hug, which he was happy to reciprocate.

A firm pat on the back to signify I should probably let go, and we parted.

“You don’t wanna miss the metro, kiddo. Go on, get out of here,” he said with a smile.

“Thah Deh,” I articulated as best I could.

Dad sent me off with a ‘shoo shoo’ motion and I was out the door into the cold. It may have been well below freezing but I couldn’t feel it at all.

This new year was off to a great start.

Uggggh, this year was off to such an annoying start.

I expected it, obviously, but good lord it’s like none of the dinos at this school ever saw a human that suffered critical brain damage, a black eye and severe neck strain all in one night before.

If I thought the gawkers were rude on my first day, it was a thousand times worse now.

“Woah, I’d heard the human got fucked up at the formal, but yikes!”

“I’m surprised he isn’t dead.”

“I heard Mia tried to kill him.”

On and on it went. The high school rumor mill spins eternal.

Predictably, I had a meeting with the Principal first thing. I meandered my way to her office, as I had done a few times now. 

Fortunately this time I wouldn’t have to worry about the Ben & Mia show trying to destroy my or Olivia’s lives.

I gently knocked, and in short order was invited in.

Principal Scaler managed to look even worse for wear than usual. It’s possible it had something to do with the fact that Mr. Ferris, the school nurse, and Coach Solly were also crammed into the room.

She gestured to the only remaining seat. I took it.

“Mr. Nito. Welcome back. It is good to see you are… as well as could be expected, given the circumstances,”

I pulled out my phone, which triggered what was sure to be a reflexive flash of annoyance. An action she’d probably seen other disinterested punk students like Mia do in her face before. Lucky for her, that wasn’t the case here.

“Thanks,” the TTS voice spat out.

The reflexive annoyance transformed instantly into a wince.

“Of course. Now, your parents had forwarded the information on your current condition. As well as notes and recommendations of your doctor. Given your new… challenges, St. Hammond is more than happy to provide you certain accommodations to make your remaining time this year as easy and simple as possible.”

My mind flashed back to the start of the year. Olivia leaving class early, and my eyes naturally following her as she left. Ms. Prockling misunderstanding my interest and clarifying it was part of Olivia’s ‘accommodations’.

Well. If nothing else, at least Olivia won’t be alone in the Accommodations Club.

“Such as?” I asked.

This time, Mr. Ferris spoke up.

“You will be provided a similar elevator key card as Ms. Halford. I understand you had utilized the elevator alongside her last semester, but in order to allow you to travel in your own time to classes, especially with concerns of potentially exacerbating your injuries, you will be afforded their use personally as well.”

Given the subtle tweak in tone at mentioning Olivia’s name, Ferris knew something of the circumstances between me and her now. I wasn’t sure how much, but I suspected he wasn’t keen on the idea of us sharing the elevator anytime soon.

Fair.

“Additionally, we have spoken with Mr. Coach Solly.about how your injuries preclude your normal participation,” he continued, “While attendance will continue to be obligatory, partaking in physical activities will not. Once your doctor provides the school with the documentation that your injuries have healed in full, you will be able to join your classmates in regular activities again.”

I nodded.

The nurse quickly interjected about how it was absolutely critical I follow that guidance, lest my injuries get worse. I knew that already of course, but I informed her I understood completely.

Solly, for his part, just looked as disgruntled as he normally did. I think they just brought him here to drill the point home, rather than him provide any real input.

“I would also advise Mr. Coach Solly that ‘punitive discouragements’ of Mr. Nito will also be aggressively discouraged,” Principal Scaler noted, staring at the simian coach.

That earned her a dismissive grunt from Solly, and an annoyed raised eyebrow from Ferris.

That was good, at least. I still have some mild PTSD when Ms. Prockling had Solly throw a dodgeball from the ground floor into her second floor classroom and hit an empty seat to ‘prove a point’.

The last dodgeball hit I had taken from Solly put me out for half a day. Taking one again would probably just actually murder me.

“Your teachers have all likewise been informed about your usage of your phone as a medical-necessary Text-to-Speech device, as well as written notation and communication. However, I would stress to remind you that while it is a medically necessary device, it is still a distraction,” Scaler explained, leaning forward to look me in the eyes.

“And you will receive disciplinary action if it is found you are abusing your accommodations to play around in class.”

I nodded. Again, fair.

The nurse then gave me a basic rundown of certain medical expectations of me, given my condition. Signs I should see her. Resting at her office if I was feeling woozy or lightheaded and so on.

I hadn’t ever gotten the full scope of Olivia’s accommodations from the school, but I had to admit, the line they were feeding me was thorough. No doubt because Mr. Ferris was probably putting a grindstone to absolutely everything right now - both from the regular audit, as well as the events of the formal.

I affirmed I understood, and promised her that I would check in with her if anything felt off at all, which seemed to placate her. I almost wanted to ask her how she and her husband were doing, but it wasn’t the right time or mood. Maybe later.

Hopefully they’re doing well.

Scaler and Ferris continued to go over the new changes in my school routine, but honestly it was mostly stuff I’d known already, or anticipated. Soon enough, the early bell rang, and Scaler used that as a sign to conclude the over-long meeting.

“Very well, Mr. Nito. You can follow Solly to your first class. And Mr. Nito?” she said, as I stood.

“I’m happy to see you are well,” she flashed me a tired smile.

“Thank you, Ms. Scaler,” I returned.

Before turning to leave with Solly, who was kindly, if impatiently, holding the door for me, I turned my attention to Mr. Ferris.

“Mr. Ferris, could we talk after school? It’s important,” my digital voice said.

“Of course, I’ll wait for you here,” he said with a nod.

Content with that plan, I turned back to my simian PE instructor.

Time to see how classes were for me now.

Solly escorted me at a pretty aggressive pace, clearly slightly annoyed that he had to sit through that ringamarole instead of getting ready for his class. I don’t think he had any ill will towards me specifically though. The guy always looked pissed.

We arrived at class, and just before I departed for the locker room to change he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Remember, cadet. No joining in today. You’re stuck on guard duty. But I’m proud of you. You clearly took quite a beating, and are back up on your feet. Keep that up.”

I could almost see the barest twinge of a smile on his stern face before he released me.

I changed into my uniform and entered class. Damien was literally jumping up and down with excitement, waving his arms at me. I walked over to meet him.

“Sup dude! Welcome to a whole new year!”

“Thanks, you too. And thanks for the help with the text-to-speech,” I answered.

“Anytime, man. It makes you like a cyborg or something,” he said with a grin.

I snorted a laugh at the absurd notion.

“ALRIGHT CADETS! IT IS A NEW YEAR! AND THUS, IT IS A NEW YOU. AND THAT YOU? IT WILL BECOME STRONG!”

Ah, good. Solly hadn’t given himself a new years resolution to have an indoor voice. Would have hated to see that.

“AND THE BEST WAY TO GET STRONG? THAT’S RIGHT. WITH COMPETITION!. TEAM UP NOW, CADETS. IT’S DODGEBALL DAY!” he roared.

 Damien, as usual, looked absolutely ecstatic at the notion.

“Bro! Team up! Same as the first day!”

“Except I can’t join in, Damien,” I replied, pointing to my head and neck brace.

I felt bad when he deflated immediately.

“Oh. Right, right, dude. You’d probably actually die this time.”

“Mmhm.” I murmured the agreement with my actual voice.

I gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder and broke off from the forming teams to situate myself on some of the bleachers. High up on the bleachers. I didn’t want to catch a stray round and be obliterated by happenstance.

A moment later, as the teams broke out, Solly blew his whistle, signaling the chaos to begin.

Balls were flying everywhere. It was almost magical to see from the outside. This is probably what it looked like on my first day, but I was too terrified, or too full of myself, to really get a sense of the madness of it all.

Damien, of course, was excelling. He had a ball in each hand and was alternating between deflecting with one, or throwing the other. Whichever hand was empty would scoop the deflected ball to restock his reserves.

He was a lean, mean, dodgeballing machine. Right on, dude.

However, as fascinating as the mock war was, not being able to participate ultimately did make it boring after a few minutes. Only so many times you can see the same poor pterodactyl or raptor be scored on before it gets old.

I pulled out my phone and got back to sketching.

For a new year's resolution, I’d settled on expanding my art skills. I didn’t think I was ever going to reach the levels of Olivia or Liz, that was pretty silly to think. But I’d like to imagine I’d be able to manage a respectable sketch by the end of the year.

I tried internalizing some of the YouSnoot video tutorials I’d watched, and was busy scribbling down rough, approximate lines of the dodgeball chaos in front of me. It was messy and had poor composition, but it kinda-sorta looked like the gym with little people in it.

I keep this up for the next 6 months and maybe I’ll actually have a good end-of-year piece for Iadakan’s…

I clicked my tongue in annoyance at the mental slip.

For art class.

I was busy scribbling away when my focus was forcefully returned to the dodgeball chaos when someone yelled above the din.

“Yo! Skinnie! Watch it!”

I looked up just in time for a dodgeball to clip the bench next to me, the ball ringing as it clapped past me by less than a foot, before lodging itself in the rafters above.

I ripped my head around to try and pinpoint the perpetrator. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but my eyes found Mia first. She was mid-throw pose, her eyes - along with everyone else’s staring up at me.

Ooooooh that BITCH.

My face began to heat and I could feel my pulse quicken. I was working myself up to try and yell something appropriately belligerent - if likely unintelligible - when Solly snapped our attention back.

“WATSON! YOU WILL AIM WHEN YOU THROW. IF I SEE SUCH SLOPPY FORM AGAIN YOU’LL BE RUNNING LAPS UNTIL I FORGET YOU EXIST!”

An ankylosaur next to Mia, who was, admittedly, oriented more in my direction, squealed out an apology.

I held Mia’s gaze for a moment longer. I couldn’t really make out her expression from here, but knowing her she probably had some stupid smug look on her face.
Solly’s whistle screamed out again and the game was back on.

Class continued on and eventually the game concluded.

I worked my way down from the rafters. I felt slightly bad that my first impulse was to assume Mia was to blame. But also she had literally done it before, and had proven herself to be a bitter vindictive bitch. So the assumption felt justified.

Still, the flash of anger was concerning.

The good news was, Damien was more than happy to regale me his exploits in the game I literally just watched him play, as we changed back into our normal clothes, which calmed me back down and lifted my mood.

We then split and I worked my way towards the second floor, pausing briefly at the elevator. I thumbed the keycard in my pocket, before giving myself a little shrug. I’ll use it if I need it, but I can still walk, and should probably do the exercise. The last two weeks were hard on my body, and if I couldn’t rely on Solly to get me back into shape, then I’d have to put in a little bit of work on my own.

I made good time, and only felt a little bit of burn in my legs by the time I got to Iadakan’s old classroom. I paused at the door. His name was still on the door plate. I couldn’t tell if I’d feel better or worse when they finally replaced it.

Maybe both.

I quietly entered the room, and more predictable whispers about me. I took my regular seat and looked to the empty one next to me.

Hrm. Olivia skipped today then. Not all that surprising, given what happened. And I wouldn’t have the foggiest of what to do or say, but… I can’t say I liked it.

The bell rang, and this is normally where Iadakan would slam the table, ending side conversations so people could focus on the lesson. The substitute did no such thing, and between her flat, droning delivery and the oh-so-much-more-interesting subject that was I, the whispers continued throughout class.

Stupendous.

Class ended and I packed up my notes. The sub wasn’t awful, exactly, but she managed to make a subject I was interested in painfully boring. Just like Prockling. I wasn’t sure what the plan about a replacement for Iadakan was, but hopefully it was someone that actually wanted to be here and teach.

I’d be pretty mad if I failed Iadakan’s class because I was driven to sleep by the sub.

Fortunately, next was lunch, and I was looking forward to spending time with Damien and Liz.

I worked my way to the land of lawless luncheons, and took the long side route to our back seat area. I wasn’t going to risk getting concussed by a random tail or food tray today.

Damien waved me down as if I wasn’t already on my way, with an armful of snacks and sodas as always in store.

“Right on, dude! It’s like nothing’s changed at all,” Damien said after he shotgunned one of the sodas and crushed the carcass of a can.

“Almost,” I said, looking at the conspicuously empty spot where Olivia would always sit.

“Yeah… but hey! Like I’d said in my messages, she’s been making occasional appearances. So that’s progress, right? Maybe she’ll come tomorrow!”

“Oh? She’s come out of her room? That’s great to hear!” Liz said as her head dipped down from the suspended salad bar.

“Damien.” my digitized voice chastised him.

He flashed his usual sheepish grin and laughed.

“Sorry, Liz. I was so shocked it slipped my mind to tell you.”

She just shook her head and returned to her meal.

This was nice. Well… Olivia missing wasn’t. But this moment, right here, was a dose of somewhat normal again. Damien fighting the mystery meat special like it was a full body workout experience. Liz’s neck extending out of sight, gently swaying. The cacophony of increasingly violent food-motivated riots on the far side of the room.

This wasn’t too bad at all.

I decided to make at least an attempt at looping Olivia in on current events, hopefully not overplaying the positive response I’d gotten from Christmas. I took a picture of Damien struggling to defeat his lunch and fired it off to Olivia.

“Damien’s having trouble with lunch.”

A heartbeat later, it was marked as read.

That was fast.

But after a few moments, no reply.

Well, she was definitely reading what I sent, at least. So I wasn’t on ignore or anything.

Lunch concluded and I’d realized I bought the usual amount of extra snacks that was intended to include Olivia. I handed the extras off to Damien so he could pass them along to their intended target when he got home.

With that little logistical matter settled, we broke off and headed off to our next round of classes. I walked my way back to Iadakan’s classroom, and took my usual seat. I tuned out the noise of the whispers as everyone else continued to file in. 

A familiar voice cut through the filter and startled me as it addressed me.

“Inco! You’re back!”

I turned my head, and there he was. The blue Parasaurus himself.

Ben.

I forced my face to be neutral, but inside I was anything but. 

Oooh Ben. We needed to talk, buddy.

After a moment to collect myself, I looked away and merely grunted a reply.

I could tell out of my periphery he seemed slightly taken aback by that, but took his seat next to me anyways.

“I’m sorry, you’ve probably been getting a lot of that today. I’m glad you’re doing better though!”

“Mhm.”

Again my peripheral vision caught his response. His smile faded somewhat, and his brows furrowed. It was subtle, but he was definitely annoyed at my response.

Yeah, great to see you too, pal.

With nothing else to be gained by a conversation right now, Ben focused on the lesson - such as it was with the substitute. They weren’t much better than the sub for AP Art, and I noticed even Ben was zoning out to the dull reading that was happening.

I may have to beg Principal Scaler to speed up the replacement process. ‘For my recovery.’

Class ended, and Ben bid me a goodbye, which I returned with a grunt.

Finally, it was time for Ms. Procklings class. To fully round out the horrific monotony of education that was the current state of things here.

I took my seat and honestly spent most of the period just staring at Olivia’s empty seat. I considered doodling, but I didn’t need my phone taken away. As Scaler noted, just because I was getting some special privileges doesn’t mean their abuse would be tolerated.

About halfway through the class I just resolved to write notes to fill the time. God this sucked.

Class ended and with the final bell, I was free from this horrid pit. I quickly slipped away and began making my way towards the principal’s office for my meeting with Mr. Ferris. It was slow going against the outflow of students, but I knew he’d wait for me, so I didn’t feel pressured to rush.

As I rounded the final corner into the office hall where most of the students had cleared out from now, I heard a familiar, frustrating voice.

“There he is!”

My eyes clenched shut, and I could immediately feel the onset of a headache. Raptor Jesus why have you forsaken me?

I opened my eyes and turned back to see Mia approaching, looking annoyed - as if that wasn’t her default expression anyways. She was also dragging Ben by the arm, who was putting up the most feeble resistance in history.

She pulled up on me and yanked Ben into position next to her.

“I-Inco? What’s this all about?” Ben asked, slightly winded.

I shrugged.

I honestly had no idea. Mia and I hadn’t exchanged any words today. We exchanged glances with the dodgeball incident, but that was someone else.

“Bennie-boo, you need to work this out with your bestie here. Tell him I’m innocent, like usual.”

That line got my teeth clenched a little tighter.

“Of course, Mia, but I still don’t know what’s going on?” Ben said, straightening himself out, looking at me.

Mia, for her part in all this, just stared at me like I was supposed to have any clue what she was going on about. For my part, I just stared at her, then looked to Ben, then back to Mia, with a constant expression of general annoyance.

I really had much better things to do than… whatever the hell all this was.

When she realized I wasn’t going to participate in… ‘this’, her snout curled into a frown.

“Look, baldie. I don’t know what your beef was, but I saw that expression of yours in gym. I didn’t throw that ball, got it? You know that, so why are you giving me the fuckin’ stink eye?”

“Inco, is that true?”

Oh fuck off Ben.

I pull out my phone and type in my response. Ben and Mia both share a perplexed look.

“I wasn’t mad at her. I was mad I almost got hit by a ball. I don’t really care about Mia,” drolled the digital voice.

Ben’s face paled a little as he put the pieces together of what was happening. He’d apparently been the one to call 911 after I was hurt, so he definitely saw the condition I was in. Even if he would probably blow up a building if it’d help Mia out, he’s not stupid. He pretty quickly put 2 and 2 together and landed on the right card.

“Oh..I-Inco. I’m sorry. I didn’t… No one said…” Ben’s face was contorted with embarrassment and concern.

That did make me feel a little bad. I could have told him, at least. I was still pissed at him, but we could at least be civil. Especially since I still needed to talk to him about what his and Olivia’s deal was.

I was about to type out a reply when I heard a snort.

I looked up and the dumb bitch had that trademark curled smile plastered on her face.

Yup. Here we go.

“Oh my gaaawd. He can’t talk anymore? That’s so precious! Now him and Hotwheels can make a matched mute set!”

I could feel my face curling into a sneer. I’d be pissed enough if she was mocking me at this point, but bringing Olivia into it, especially when she wasn’t here was several grades of mistake over the mark.

“M-Mia! You can’t be saying things li-” Ben’s attempt to pull in his girlfriend were as ineffective as ever. 

She barely even registered he was talking.

“Oh hush, Benny. It’s just some playful ribbing among friends, right, baldie? After all, we got along so well at the formal! We even danced!”

“Wait…what?” Ben said

Oh, cool. She didn’t tell him about that. Mia continues to be a class act to her boyfriend. 

“Well you were busy with the cripple. You expected me to just sit around like a loser all night? Hardly!”

Ben’s face began to form a frown.

I was well past that. My blood was beginning to boil.

“Mia! Don’t call Olivia that!”

“Oh, boo. You’re so uptight, Ben. But whatever. We were talking about baldie here, weren’t we! So, human boy. How’s it feel?”

Don’t do it you dumb whore. I’m really trying to hold this together.

Her face curled into a further vindictive grin.

“You know, being disabled alongside your girlfriend? You two have so much in-”

“Mia!”

Ben tried to rein her in one last time, but it was too late.

Hell, I tried to rein myself in one last time. But it was too late for that, too.

The only thing that brought a sparkle of amusement to the back of my brain as I watched me lose control over myself is that Mia clearly didn’t see it coming.

My hand whipped up behind me and I torqued my entire body into it. I’d been stewing on a lot of personal issues for longer than I’d thought. I’d been slowly piecing things together over the last near two weeks, but clearly the backlog of “Inco issues” was too dense to unpack in such a short time.

Everything that’d been stressing me out. All the shit I had to put up with as mine and Olivia’s lives fell apart.

It wasn’t technically actually Mia’s fault, but her utter inability to be a halfway decent person to anyone - even Ben - made her a very juicy, and very easy to internally rationalize target for my outlet.

I may not be able to talk, you dumb bitch. But I can plant five across your face easily enough.

I brought my hand down with full force. I twisted my hips into the blow on reflex. Maybe I learned that from some YouSnoot video some ages ago. I couldn’t tell you why I did it.

But I could sure tell you it worked.

My open hand crashed cleanly against the broadside of her snout, and the uneven surface of her scales bit into my palm ensuring a strong, clean connection as I followed through. With the force, momentum, and friction, her face followed my hand, and I planted her - face first - directly into the floor.

The strike was like a thunderclap. There was a non-zero chance that Olivia heard the resonance all the way back at the Paynes place. Hopefully Raptor Jesus would make that happen and bring a tiny smile to her face.

“Guh!” was the first sound Mia made after her head ricocheted off the floor.

I felt a little bad.

Mostly for the fact I probably just got myself expelled. But at least a little bit for Ben, since he just saw the love of his life get bodied into the school linoleum.

“Mia! Inco what the hell!” Ben yelled, already dropping to a knee to try and help his girlfriend.

Ben, my man. Your girlfriend just spent the last minute and a half insulting me for a disability. I’m really not in the wrong here.

I finished the recovery of the blow and straightened up and took a step back. The warning signs were already there that Mount Mia was about to blow.

If she could turn any redder, I didn’t believe it.

“Nngh…you…” she steadied herself on all fours for a moment, as a drop of blood exited her nostril.

“YOU SKINNIE FUCKER!” Mia roared.

Ben, the noodly nerd that he was, was unable to stop the full rage force of Mia. I mean, not even the school infrastructure could stop Mia, so Ben losing out was a foregone conclusion.

“LEH GUH YOU CHUH!” I roared back in my slurred speech, throwing my arms wide in a taunt.

She grabbed me with both fists at the collar of my shirt and shoved me down.

Unfortunately for me, I collided with the floor head-first. Which wasn’t great for someone already suffering from traumatic brain injuries.

Hilariously unfortunately for Mia, however, was that my head cracked off the floor right as the door to Scaler’s office flung open.

Mia didn’t even notice as she straddled me. Through the stars in my eyes I could see she was readying a strike of her own. She planned to punch me directly in my face. The good news was it never happened.

Mr. Ferris cleared the gap in a single stride and his huge fist grabbed her around the elbow of the readying arm. He yanked her and pulled her off me like a ragdoll. She squealed in pain.

Man, what was with Ferris and fucking up people’s arms. Dude needs a better hobby.

My head swam and it was hard to focus. I could feel the bile roiling up in my gut and just barely managed to roll over on my side before spewing the contents of my lunch on the floor.

—

I awoke in the nurse’s office. My mom was in the visitor’s chair looking profoundly distraught.

Nice. I got that picturesque awakening I wanted.

All it took was two major head traumas.

…Not worth it.

I let out a reflexive groan as I tried focusing my eyes on anything specific, and my mom leapt to her feet.

“Oh Raptor Jesus! Inco!” she cried as she was upon me immediately.

She kissed my forehead and cradled my head as she cried.

After a few moments, she had calmed enough that Mr. Ferris felt comfortable gently pulling her away. He took a knee next to the nurse’s bed as Mom returned to her post at the visitor’s chair.

He looked troubled. Hardly a surprise. I’ve been making his and Scaler’s jobs awfully hard lately.

He took a few moments to organize his thoughts before beginning.

“To begin with, Mr. Nito. Ms. Moretti has been suspended. If you were concerned about her attempting to act upon you again, you may rest assured that she will not be a problem.”

I nodded, though even that subtle movement triggered a wave of vertigo in me.

“She has had a multitude of behavioral issues in the past. Ms. Scaler has informed me that she had been directed at alternative attempts and discipline multiple times, but clearly that has not worked. Mr. McKnight attempted to speak for her, but Ms. Scaler put her foot down on this. It is deeply troubling when a student resorts to violence in that way.”

“Yeh” I answered weakly.

“Mr. McKnight was insistent that Ms. Moretti wasn’t to blame in the engagement and that it was a misunderstanding, but I saw her throw you to the ground and force you to hit your head. After you had already suffered such injuries already. To allow such an action on an already injured student would be a mark on the school’s name I don’t know could ever be washed away.”

I again replied I understood.

It was honestly shocking how fast she resorted to violence. Like yeah, I hit her. But she was ready to absolutely pound me into the floor for it. How long was that fuze waiting to be sparked off?

…How long was mine?

I wondered if it eventually would’ve been Olivia, or Ben that sparked that off at the wrong time and gotten brutalized instead of me. Hm. Another mark for “Inco takes one for the team” I guess.

I really need to stop making a habit of this. I’m pretty sure I’d actually die.

“Given the circumstances, we wanted to monitor your condition here for the moment. You were only out for a few moments, but given your… recent medical history, we’ll be getting you delivered to the hospital as soon as the ambulance arrives.”

“Oheh…”

“This does mean that we’ll have to suspend our talk for the moment.”

I groan. God damn it.

I padded my pants for my phone. I don’t want to risk moving my head any to avoid tripping a wave of vertigo again, but I can’t figure out which pocket I’d had it in last…

“I assume you’re looking for this?”

Mr. Ferris hands me my phone. It has a crack in the screen. I hiss in frustration.

“I believe when Ms. Moretti tackled you, it fell from your hand and hit the floor. I’m sorry.”

I wave his apology off. Not like he did anything wrong there.

The good news was the screen still functioned well enough for my needs, but it was definitely getting replaced.

“We need to talk. After I get checked out. It’s important.” the digital voice says.

“Inco, I think that you shou-”

“It is important.” I repeated the message for emphasis.

Mr. Ferris’ frown deepened as he looked at me. I held my gaze firm.

Fortunately, Mom stepped in on my side.

“Mr. Ferris? If my son is so insistent on the matter, even after being hurt, then maybe it would be in his best interest if you hear him out? He has been through a lot recently, and him knowing he has the support of the faculty here when he needs them would do wonders at putting his - and my mind at ease.”

Hell yeah, Mom.

He looked to her, then back to me. I tried to not even blink, as if to beam the important-ness of this to him. After another beat, he relented.

“Very well, Mr. Nito. I will visit you at the hospital after you have been thoroughly checked out by your doctor.”

I flashed him the best smile I could manage at the time.

A few minutes later, the EMTs arrived and prepared to transfer me to a gurney. Ordinarily I’d try to have more bravado and say I could manage myself, but the slightest rocking of my head came with disorientation, so I decided to just leave it to the experts for now.

They wheeled me out towards the hall and thankfully at this point the rest of the students had gone home. Or had been forcefully shooed away by the staff. Either way, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the rumor mill. 

Mom kept up just behind the gurney as I was wheeled into the hall. As we exited the office door and began rolling down the hall proper, I managed a glance to the far wall, where Ben was sitting. He was pressed up to the wall and had his head in his hands. 

I couldn’t see his face, but his posture was easy to read.

We would have to talk at a later date. Sorry man.

Dr. Niket wasn’t there, but the doctor that did see me was sure to read me the riot act. Mom tried to come to my defense that it was someone else that initiated the injury - which was only mostly true - but he shot her down pretty cleanly.

“Regardless of the source of the injury, the fact of the matter is that your son’s his own person and needs to try and avoid circumstances in which this happens. It may have been out of his control, and that is a key part of it, but I clearly need to emphasize to him how important it is to avoid further injuries like this,” the old, slightly rotund triceratops said.

Mom quickly quailed at his retort. Good try, Mom, but objectively he’s right on this one.

“Mr. Nito,” he said, turning focus to me,” The good news is that your impact wasn’t hard enough to seemingly exacerbate anything. Your scans came back same as they were before, and a quick cognition test affirms you’re still functional. But please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t do that again. I am being very serious when I tell you that the wrong kind of blow like that could remove your ability to communicate at all or do worse.”

“Yeh” I affirmed to him.

He scrutinized me for another moment, and then turned to Mom.

“We’ll keep him overnight for observation, but he should be good to go back home tomorrow. I would recommend against him attending school tomorrow as well.”

My mom affirmed the plan, and sat by the bed. After a moment, she donned a disappointed look.

“Inco, what happened at school today? Mr. Ferris and Ms. Scaler said you were jumped by a bully. Has this happened before?”

Before I could answer, a rumbling echo I could feel in my chest concurred.

“I would also like to know the circumstances. As well as what you wished so dearly to speak to me about,” Ferris said, entering the room.

Mom went about the basic pleasantries, and Ferris pulled over one of the chairs along side hers at the side of the bed.

I pondered for a moment how much to tell. Partially because I wanted to protect Olivia from any chance the ‘fraud’ would come out. She had enough going on and didn’t need to deal with any of that.

And also partially because it was going to be my word against Ben and Mia’s. Or maybe just Ben’s now?

Either way, the math ain’t mathing there too good.

“I understand if this is a difficult subject to broach, Inco. But ensuring issues like bullying are stopped properly requires us to know what’s going on.”

I sighed. He was right, of course.

“Ok,” my digital ventriloquist answered.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, and ultimately settled on a slightly more sanitized version of what we had told Iadakan after The Mia Incident. I avoided the nature of the blackmail, implying I didn’t catch that part of the conversation and didn’t know why Mia was forcing Olivia to do this.

I detailed how she snuck up on us and I - admittedly instigated her little ‘episode’ - in the hall. It was entirely accidental, but I emphasized the point that Mia clearly had a history of violent outbursts.

Mom looked horrified, while Ferris carried a contemplative frown. No doubt that incident had some of the paperwork come to his desk after it happened. And while I ultimately tossed myself under the bus with Mia and Ben’s help, her attack on me today would likely be enough to cast doubt on her version of events.

“Why not come forward when Principal Scaler confronted you about it?”

I shrugged.

“It was my word against hers. And Ben was insistent that I was also to blame, taking his girlfriend’s side. I don’t even know why he had been brought in on the matter when it was an issue between me and Mia.”

Ferris considered that and seemed perturbed by the implication.

“Yes. Mr. McKnight, even being the student council president, shouldn’t have been party to that matter. I will have to talk to Ms. Scaler about that later. Had there been any other incidents?”

I explained the first bullying instance I had seen, where Mia, Lunara and Kiara had cornered Olivia. 

And how I tried and failed to protect her, just making the situation worse.

“Oh, sweetie, you meant well…” Mom said.

“Still made things worse for Olivia.” I retorted.

Ferris was taking notes in his little notebook now. That wasn’t a great sign.

“I see. Was that the scope of her behavior?”

“No.”

I told him about the formal. About how she gave Olivia ‘acting tips’. I told him about how I went along with it, in good faith thinking Mia was trying to help.

“But you had seen her bully Ms. Halford previously. Did you believe Ms. Moretti had… turned over a new leaf?”

I frowned and ran my hand over my scalp.

“I never claimed to be a smart person, Mr. Ferris. I’m pretty bad at reading and understanding people. I took what Mia said at face value when I shouldn’t have, like an idiot.”

He frowned at that, but noted something down all the same.

“And then there was what she said when we danced.”

“When you…danced?” 

“Yes. Olivia went with Ben to try and finalize her eulogy. And Mia basically forced me into a dance with her,” I answered.

“I… see.”

I went on to explain how Mia spent basically the entire time insulting Olivia. About how she’d ‘never be able to do moves like this’ and similar things.

“That’s when I finally put it together that Mia was just messing with me and Olivia. And after everything else that happened, my stay in the hospital and then seeing her again in school? It wasn’t going to end well.”

“I can see how that would create a tenuous situation, yes. How did she come to attack you, then? We only opened the door when she had already set upon you. We didn’t catch anything before that, and Mr. McKnight was… sparse on the details.”

I told him about the near-miss with the dodgeball in PE, which riled my mother up. And how I didn’t see her until after school. She was trying to get Ben to make me apologize to her because it wasn’t her fault. Which it wasn’t.

But with everything else she had done, I wasn’t in the talking mood, so I told her that I wasn’t mad at her.

“And that lead to a fight?” Mr. Ferris said, unconvinced.

“I told her that with my text to speech. And she immediately began to mock me about it.”

His frown deepened.

“She mocked me, and said that me and Olivia were perfect together because we were both disabled.”

Mom hissed at that.

If I hadn’t broadsided Mia’s face and gotten her suspended already, I would almost believe Mom would have marched out of the room right there to hunt Mia down and go ‘mama bear’ on her.

“I lost my temper at that point and slapped her.”

Mr. Ferris paused his writing for a moment, before looking up at me.

“And then she retaliated,” he finished.

“Yes, sir.”

He let out a low, rumbling sigh.

“This is more complicated than expected.”

“It is, sir. It ties to what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“How so, Inco?”

“Since I woke from my injury, I have had moments of intense anger. I’ve been able to control it until now, but my lashing out at Mia - justified or not - indicates I have problems. When Mr. Iadakan died, you said there was counciling being offered. Is there still an option for that?”

He tapped his pen against his chin and thought.

“I believe we can arrange something, yes. Trauma from loss can manifest itself in complex ways, which is why it was offered, but I’m sad to admit that almost no students that it was offered too agreed to it.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t surprise me at all.

“If possible, then please look into it. For Olivia as well,” I prompted.

“Ms. Halford?”

He clearly hadn’t considered her in this equation either.

“Yes. Yes, I believe I see what you mean. Between Mr. Iadakan’s passing and your injury, as well as the instances of bullying, she has suffered a great deal as well. I will see what I can do,” he confirmed.

Hearing that was a great relief. No one could force her, but maybe a little bit of extra suggestion would be the push she’d need. And I really did think it could help her, even if only a little.

“I don't know the payment obligations, but the Paynes were concerned it wouldn’t be affordable. Could we work something out for that?” I asked.

I looked to my mom, who had a complex look on her face. I could tell that she knew it was important to me, but costs like that could explode quickly.

I know Mom, but I don’t have many options here.

Mr. Ferris, however, balked at the question.

“What? We would never force students in mourning to take the burden of the full cost of such a treatment! Where did that idea come from?”

He seemed legitimately upset about that. 

“No one said it wouldn’t be full cost.”

He slumped into his chair, which groaned under the strain of the leviathan.

“To think a miscommunication like this could go such a way…”

My mother laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Then it’s better to correct the record now and make up for lost time, don’t you think?”

He looked to her, and back to me.

“Yes. You’re right of course. Thank you, Inco. This has been a very illuminating, if terse talk. I’ve always enjoyed our discussions on the metro. Hopefully going forward we can get back to those easygoing ones again,” he said, packing away his notepad and headed for the door.

“I would like that,” I replied.

Mom eventually opted to head home. It was clear I wasn’t really in any danger of getting worse now, and she wanted to catch Dad up on everything when he got home. Apparently they flipped a coin to decide who’d run over to the school for me. Which was weird, but also kinda endearing.

I also texted Damien about what went down. Predictably, he was pretty upset. I told him I checked out OK though, they just want me to take a day to be sure, and I’d be back on Wednesday.

That didn’t fully ease his frustration, but he seemed to accept it. With an added offer of “Let me know if you need breaking out, dude!”

This guy.

I also fired off a message to Olivia.

“Back in hospital. Am OK. Might have actually knocked the stupid out of Mia. Will keep you advised.”

Hopefully that’d amuse her more than worry her.

Then the final target for the day.

“Hey Ben. I’m at the hospital. Am OK. I think we need to talk when you have the time.”

Sent.

A few minutes later I got a message back.

“I think we do, yes. What hospital?”

Jumping straight in, eh, Ben? Well, I’m not going to complain. I’ve already jumped into the deep end with your crazy shark of a girlfriend. May as well get on with it.

I messaged him the address, and went back to watching artist tutorials on YouSnoot. I lost my stylus and the screen crack would’ve made it almost impossible to draw, but I could try and osmos some new techniques while I waited.

Not like I had a better plan.

Ben managed to arrive before dinner time. Apparently he got one of his parents to give him a ride up and they’d be back in about an hour.

I didn’t think whatever this conversation would be would take longer than that, so that’d be fine.

“Mia didn’t drive you?” my TTS asked.

“...No.”

No further response.

I looked Ben over properly. He had his normal jacket-turtleneck combo on. His hair was definitely more of a mess than it usually was, but otherwise he seemed generally composed. It was a little unnerving.

“So what did you want to talk about?” he asked, breaking the silence, “Were you going to hit me too?”

Oh screw off, buddy. I could feel a flash of anger, but I tamped it down. Ben may toss me under buses like it’s a career, but I’m not inclined to slap the guy. I wasn’t even inclined to slap Mia until she pushed too far.

It did stir a thought in me, however. I lashed out violently at her. I wasn’t sure if it would meaningfully make its way back to me, or if her punishment would be reduced. Given what all I told Mr. Ferris, the answer is likely not. But still. That first strike was on me.

I’d gotten maybe a little too comfortable that my condition obligated me to take a few more moments to consider my words, without thinking about what would happen if I opted to skip words and jump straight to action.

Like when I skipped trying to talk to Olivia and went for that hug.

A shiver rolled over my body.

Ok. I needed to work on that, still. Noted, brain. We’ll loop back on that later, before Ben gets bored and leaves.

Sure enough, Ben was looking quite annoyed now that I’d zoned out again.

“I know you’ve taken some lumps Inco. Are you sure you’re OK? This isn’t the first time you’ve spaced out.”

“I think it’s something that’s always been wrong with me. It’s fine.”

He wasn’t impressed with that answer, but it wasn’t the important part anyways.

“We need to talk about two things. Mia and Olivia. Which one do you want to deal with first?”

His snout scrunched at both suggestions.

“...Mia.”

I reflexively clicked my tongue in annoyance that he took the easy option first. That sparked off a further frown of his own.

“Inco, if you’re not in the mood to talk, then we-”

“No. Clearly all this has come to a head. We need to sort our shit out now. Both of us,” my digital voice cut him off.

He rolled his eyes and groaned before walking over and taking a chair.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him act like this before. 

“Well?”

“So you’ve got nothing to say about your girlfriend mocking two disabled people in front of you and using slurs about me?”

He flinched at that.

“Well… yes. Mia has a habit of… saying things she doesn’t mean, b-but…”

“Doesn’t mean? Most of the words I’ve heard her say over the course of last semester was insulting Olivia. To say nothing of the blackmail.”

“The what?”

Alright bucko. Cards on the table. Lets see who folds first, blueboy.

“Your girlfriend was extorting Olivia for homework. For herself and her friends. To the point Olivia injured her wrist trying to keep up with the workload. It’s why she wasn’t able to do a final painting for Mr. Iadakan before he died. She literally couldn’t paint.”

“W…wait. What? When was-”

“It was what led to the incident with Mia in the hallway. We can skip the bullshit on that, too, Ben. You know and I know I didn’t flashbang her. We can be honest about it.”

His face folded into a scowl, and he pinched his temples.

“Yes. Fine. I know she lost control about something and wrecked the entire hallway. What did you want me to do? Throw my girlfriend under a bus?” he sneered.

“You certainly didn’t have a problem doing it to me.”

That one struck him solidly.

“You…you agreed with Mia’s story.”

“I did. And I expressly told you afterwards it was to try and smooth things over, to make it easier for everyone. Did it? Did my ‘noble sacrifice’ help anything, Ben?” my digital voice flatly drolled out.

Hopefully the benign voice didn’t undersell the sneer I had on my own face.

“Look, Inco-”

“Did she tell you she faked an injury in detention after that? And made me do all the cleaning and repair work myself?”

The spark of confusion told me that she had not.

“What about when she danced with me? Did she mention she spent that entire time making fun of Olivia being disabled? About how she ‘couldn’t do moves like this’ or how she was a lost cause?”

The expression was slowly beginning to drain from his face.

“Or how I was stupid enough to let her wheel Olivia off somewhere for ‘acting tips’ when clearly it was another chance at mocking Olivia minutes before she would go on to tell the student body about how her mentor was dead.”

Ben clasped his hands. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow.

“You love Mia, Ben. I get that. I love Olivia. Both of our girls are troubled people. But Mia is a shit person. She manipulates you. She manipulated me. She manipulated Olivia. She spent an entire semester mocking and blackmailing Olivia.”

His head was hanging low now, staring at the floor.

“She has done nothing but be a wretched abusive bully. And you cover for her time after time. Do you think Mr. Ferris is going to let that slide anymore? Or Scaler? They both know you’ve been protecting her. By the way I hear it you protected her today when she nearly caved my head in.”

“What do you want me to do!” Ben finally snapped, standing as he yelled out.

“BE HOHEH FUH WUH!” I yelled back at him unassisted, smashing my hand into the rail of the hospital bed.

The lance of pain jolted me out of my rage and made me center myself. I rubbed my wrist for a moment, and then grabbed my phone again. The scowl was still on my face, but I’d composed myself at least a little.

“Be honest for once, Ben. I think I’ve paid enough for that much. And Olivia has too.”

He fell back into his fair and let out a snort.

A heartbeat later, he started to snort-laugh more. Soon it had developed into a giggling cackle that lasted only a moment before it turned into some form of strangled, squeaking cries.

His face planted themselves firmly in his hands, his glasses slipped from his face and clattered to the floor.

I gave him a few moments to compose himself. He cast several shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself down.

“What is your deal, Ben? You’ve always felt like you had such control over every social situation. You could talk your way out of anything. I looked up to you as someone to aspire to because I was some loser that couldn't socialize at all.” I explained.

“But the whole thing with pushing the eulogy, even though Olivia didn’t want it? Tossing me under the bus without considering me at all even though I thought we were friends. Covering for Mia after she time and time again hurts everyone around her? Probably even you,” I continued on.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, Ben. Ever since I almost died and woke up from a coma. I’ve been a shit person. Probably for a long time. But definitely to the people closest to me. And honestly? I think we’re pretty similar in that regard.”

The deathblow struck the blue parasaur.

“I… You…” he sighed, “Yeah. Yeah, maybe we are.”

“As one fucked up person to another, then, Ben. What’s your deal? Why are you like that?”

He reached down and plucked his glasses off the floor, but rather than putting them back on his face, he folded them and placed them in his lap. He let his head roll back and stare at the ceiling, contemplating what to say.

“I was just thinking. We really are kinda similar, aren’t we? Not in the way you think. …Well, maybe that way too. But in a different way as well.”

That response got me to raise an eyebrow. It was cryptic, and told me nothing.

He sighed.

“What has Olivia told you about me? About me and her?”

I shrugged.

“Not much. You two had some kind of history, a falling out, and basically never talked again. I felt like she wanted to tell me, but it just never came to it.”

“More or less. I was her friend, back in middle school. I couldn’t tell you how it came about. Maybe it wasn’t all that different from how you and her started to become friends. We were both artistically inclined, and bonded over that. I could see her create these amazing paintings. She’s one of the most talented individuals I’ve ever met. Even in the years since then, I don’t think anyone’s come close.”

I nodded.

“St. Hammond has that contest. You know, the one at the start of the year.”

I nodded again.

“I encouraged her to enter it. I felt she was a shoe-in for it. Her talent was incredible and she would get the fame and fortune and recognition that talent deserves.”

“Seems like something a good friend would do,” I offered.

He shook his head.

“Only at the beginning. She spent all summer working on that. She refused help as much as possible. She even was annoyed that she needed the help of a guide to find a good spot for the vantage point. She was so independent,” he chuckled a bit.

“And at a certain point it… made me angry,” he said.

“Angry? Why?”

“Because when you look at Olivia, you immediately can tell what her whole deal is. You can’t ignore the wheelchair, right?”

My frown deepened.

“But she resisted that at every turn. Anything that would give her a leg up. Any affordance people tried to provide she pushed off in the name of ‘her art’,” Ben scoffed.

“And I could tell it may not be enough. St. Hammond is famous for its art programs. Even getting in means you’ve got quite the talent to you. So it’s not like Olivia was unique in that regard. But seeing her risk losing that contest because of her stubborn resistance to getting help for her condition… just…” his face contorted into a snarl as he balled his fists.

“Why would you care? It was her decision, right?” I asked.

“Because I’m not normal either, Inco. I’m fucked up in the head!” he sneered at me.

He reached into his jacket pocket and tossed a bottle into my lap. I wasn’t familiar with the actual drug name, but the descriptor made it clear.

Antipsychotics.

I held the bottle and stared at it for a long moment before nodding. I handed it back to Ben, but he made no move to grab it. After a moment, I placed it on my lap.

“I take classes to be normal. I take medicine to be normal. I have to spend all my time awake thinking about being normal. If I slip for a minute, or if I actually try and seek any kind of help, or assistance? Everyone knows. ‘Oh, that Ben guy is crazy .’,” he spat the last word out.

“And I just had to sit there and watch Olivia be a prissy little princess. With all her talent, wasting the opportunity because she was too high-minded to ask for assistance for a condition people were tripping over themselves to accommodate! So I used my options to help her. I was the student council secretary in freshman year. I was in charge of doing student news articles, and wrote about Olivia.”

My eyes widened a little at that.

“I reached out for that social safety net she had FOR her because she wouldn’t take it. In the article, I emphasized she was ‘fighting against all odds’ due to being stuck in a wheelchair. And you know what happened when I did?”

I could only sit and watch as Ben explained, but I knew where this was going now.

“She FUCKING WON. And you know what the best part was? Even though I was right? She HATED me for it!”

Tears were beginning to roll down his cheeks, but he continued.

“I told her - I said to her face that this was her shot. She won. Her talent might have won, but that little bit of extra ‘push’ secured the win for sure. And that she may not ever get a chance as good as that ever again. God damn it, the look that she gave me…”

Ben wiped at his eyes, but it did nothing to stop the slow cascade of water.

“We stopped talking after that. I was dead to her. The funniest part was that for all her high minded ideals? All her holier than thou-ness about not wanting to accept any help for her condition?”

Ben leveled his eyes directly at mine and growled.

“She took the money and fame anyways.”

I could feel my throat tightening. I knew they had a history, but god. Damn. I wasn’t ready for this.

I’m honestly not positive anyone would be ready for this.

“And I just had to suck that up. I destroyed our friendship trying to help her, and then she just hypocrites it up and never talks to me again. And even then, people would lavish her with support. Her family, the school. Every affordance. Every gimmie. She got in spades and threw it all into the mud. While I got nothing. If I stepped out of line, I would be a social outcast. You want to know what my deal is, Inco? THAT IS MY FUCKING DEAL,” he concluded his sentence with all the rage and fury he still had within him.

And then he was spent.

Ben collapsed back into his seat, his head lolled back and his body shook.

I gave him several minutes to calm down. Olivia had kept all of this bottled up inside, but clearly so had Ben. It didn’t excuse everything. Hell, it didn’t even explain everything. But I was starting to get a proper grasp on who Ben McKnight was.

And he was pretty much as much a broken mess as I was.

Damn.

He took a few more shaky breaths, and then continued. He didn’t move from his slouched position.

“I said we’re alike, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a mix of things. Before the formal, you were a socially maladjusted ass.”

First, rude.

Second… yeah, fair enough.

“But I could kinda see myself in that. I may have had the social etiquette training to work around that, but the core was there. But after the formal, you… you can’t talk properly anymore, right?”

“Yeah. Dysa-something. Loss of control of the jaw and facial muscles,” I answered.

“But you LOOK normal.”

“Yes.”

“So as long as you don’t talk, you’re OK.”

Ah.

I get it now.

“As long as I don’t out myself, I’m normal. Like you,” I concluded the thought.

He sniffled.

“Yep.”

We sat in silence again. I absolutely didn’t condone his behavior. To say it was fucked up was like saying my trip down the stairs was a minor headache. But I GOT it now. This guy was carrying years of some internalized issues and an unfortunate event in which he tried to help Olivia the wrong way blew up in his face.

Damn it, we really were a lot more similar at the core of it than I wanted to admit.

But…

We weren’t the same .

“Ben. About Mia.”

“You wanted to know why I put up with all her shit? It’s pretty easy, actually. She knows about me.”

Wait, is Mia blackmailing Ben too?

“She knows about my condition and she doesn’t care. I think she’d seen me taking my meds once and… well, OK she literally backed me into a corner about it. But when I told her… nothing changed. She was still Mia. And I was still Ben.”

He rolled his head forward to look at me. His eyes were red.

“She made me feel normal. She has her own issues. I’ve tried to help with them. I’ve been more successful in some places than others. And yeah, she really can be a bitch sometimes. I won’t even disagree. But she’s the only person in my life other than my parents I don’t have to worry about thinking less of me because of my condition.”

He sat forward again, rubbing his eyes and sighing. After a moment, he put his glasses back on his face.

“Do you know how much that means to me? It’s worth more than its weight in gold.”

He stood, and grabbed his pill bottle, and tucked it back into his jacket pocket.

“Look, Inco. I’m sorry about how Mia’s treated you. And Olivia. I’ll talk to her about it. But if you really think I’m going to choose between either of you, or the only lifeline to normalcy I’ve ever had? I’m going to pick Mia every time.”

He headed towards the door and stopped part way. He turned back to me.

“I know that isn’t what you want hear. And I really am sorry for that, Inco. But I just… I can’t. You can hate me or whatever. I’d get it. But I can’t. If you’re willing to do me any kindness at all though… please don’t tell anyone about, uh…”

He patted his jacket coat and I could hear the pill bottle rattle.

“This.”

I only hesitated for a moment before answering.

“I prohih,” I said, unassisted.

I’d like to think that sold my sincerity, even if it sounded weird.

Ben gave me a weak smile, and then left, quietly closing the door behind him.

…

Fuck.

Chapter Text

My overnight stay at the hospital went well, as predicted. My morning check-in with Dr. Niket - who mirrored much of the same frustrations as my temporary doc from yesterday - went without issue as well. 

A little bit of paperwork for Dad and I was back at home. On the way back he playful chastised me about it, but I could tell he was worried. 

Sorry, Dad. Really trying to not make a habit of this.

Dad dropped me off at the house and I wandered up to my room, before laying in bed. I wasn’t sleepy, but man was I tired. How many times could Mia try and destroy my life in such relatively quick succession?

I know she’s Ben’s lifeline to a normal world or whatever, but I hope Ferris and Scaler throw the book at her. Maybe literally. That’d be funny.

It was bright and early, just coming up on 7. Dad managed to snag me early with some talking to Dr. Niket so he could scoot off to work. They said they were going to try and reduce their workload, but I had no idea how long that was going to take. Or if it’d realistically happen at all. All I could do was trust my ‘new’ parents that they would at least try.

New Inco was trying, New Mom and Dad seemed to be too. No point in stressing over it.

My phone buzzed with a message from Damien.

“Yooooooooooooooo!”

I could easily imagine him shouting that, flailing his arms around at nothing in particular. I waited a moment longer, but no follow up message seemed to be coming.

“What’s up, dude?” I fired off.

A heartbeat later, I got a message with a picture attached.

Going off the barely-coherent smear of pixels, I couldn’t tell if Damien was excited when taking it or having a grand mal seizure. I squinted at my phone, trying to discern the pixels through the crack in my screen.

A recognizable smear of green and purple.

What.

What?

Olivia?

“Is that Olivia?” I messaged back.

“You couldn’t tell from the picture?! She wheeled herself to school today!” he retorted.

Your pictures suck, bro.

No, that didn’t matter. Olivia was… active. And out. And doing stuff. Her new wheelchair clearly got delivered and she was capitalizing on it now.

I was conflicted. On the one hand, I was pissed I was stuck at home today on doctor’s orders, and that gave me an excuse to not deal with the school rumor mill that was no doubt whirring away about my ‘epic’ confrontation with Mia.

On the other, I wasn’t there to… I don’t know. Test the waters? By everything I knew, Olivia was still generally uncommunicative. But she was actually being active so that seemed like that was a step in the right direction. If I was there I could… see how she’d react to me, I guess.

Though I don’t know if I could take it if she immediately lashed out at the sight of me. Or just ignored me like I didn’t exist.

I groaned and ran a hand over my scalp. I didn’t know what to do here.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted to talk to her. There was a lot we were going to have to talk about. A lot to work through. A lot to repair. But if I was being fully honest with myself?

Right now I just wanted to hear her voice at all.

“Lemme know how she’s doing, OK?” I fired off to Damien.

He quickly replied with a thumbs up icon and I was left waiting.

I couldn’t doodle. Nothing on YouSnoot sounded interesting. Movies just sounded like work, right now.

It was the lack of ability to doodle that was especially galling. I’d grown pretty accustomed to just filling the space with the activity, and I felt like I kept slowly but steadily making progress.

To have it taken away from me like this was maddening. Was this how Olivia felt about being put on pause after her wrist injury? If so, I could kinda get why she was so annoyed with the lunch date. It was still wrong to snipe at Liz like that, but… I got it.

I put my mangled phone down. Apparently the plan was either Mom or Dad were to take me to the store after work hours today, and we get my phone replaced. Since it was actually medically relevant to me - in a fashion - we wanted to get that done quicklike.

I think my parents also were using that as an excuse for one of them to duck out of work early.

I pulled up my computer and after looking at phone models, including my current one, in case there was a more drawing-friendly option out there, I ended up navigating through various associated devices and utilities before landing on an online store that sold drawing tablets.

I blinked when I finally actually zoned back in and realized what I was idly navigating towards.

I skimmed the options. I wasn’t sure if these were any good, but it was apparently a reputable brand. And any of these would at minimum double the surface area of my phone, all the way up to matching my monitor in size.

I know a good craftsman doesn’t blame their tools, but there were definitely times I felt like the screen size of my phone limited me quite heavily. Olivia always painted with a full sized canvas, or doodled in a full-sized notebook. That was much more room than our phones.

I thought back to Liz, and how she did digital art. Did she have something like this? I pulled my phone up and navigated to the site on it, before firing a message off to Liz.

“Hey, Liz. Sorry to bother. Ever used anything like this before?”

It was mid-class, so she wouldn’t get back to me right away, but she was much more reliable than Damien about replying. She’d get back to me when class ended.

I milled around on YouSnoot, and watched a few review videos on some of the tablets, but honestly their recommendations didn’t really mean much to me. I didn’t know enough about them to tell if the reviews were good-faith examinations, or if they were paid ads masked as a review.

Some time passed and my phone buzzed.

“I do, yes. But I don’t think they’re Olivia’s style. She likes paint, right?” Liz had replied.

I laughed.

“No, Liz. It’s for me. I want to move a bit past crappy doodles on my phone,” I fired back.

The typing bubbles popped up, disappeared, and reappeared.

“Oh. Well if you’re starting out, I’d recommend a simpler model. The high end ones have a lot of features you couldn’t really use, so it’s a waste of money.”

That made sense. I could always upgrade later if I ended up liking it. No need to over-commit right away.

We talked shop for a few minutes and she laid out a few recommendations, including the model she had gotten her start on - though she highlighted to just get this year’s refresh as it should be the same in the end.

I thanked her for her suggestions. The videos on YouSnoot may not have been helpful, but I’ve seen Liz’s work. If she’s got a recommendation I was gonna take it seriously.

I mulled over the choices a bit more before finally settling on the starter model she’d recommended. If it was good enough for Liz starting out, it’d certainly be more than enough for me. Our styles of art were different, but I’d imagine the usage of the tablet itself wasn’t that different in the end.

I paused.

Our art styles. Hm.

Liz’s art was a clean, digital look. She favored architectural or interior spaces, but gave them a flash of life. She also was very keen on establishing all the fine details of the lighting in complex spaces like that. Her art style was refined, and very ‘her’.

My art style today was crude doodles. I didn’t HAVE an art style, really. 

I clicked the purchase order on the starter tablet and was pleased to find it had same-day shipping. Ah, modern global logistics. My savior.

I didn’t have an art style. Yet. But I’d been enjoying the doodles on my phone, even when they sucked. So maybe it was time to actually work out who I was. As an artist. Liz had her digital architectures, and Olivia had her realism-fantasy fusion painting.

I didn’t know what was ‘me’, but I was weirdly chomping at the bit to find out.

My phone buzzed again, likely a status update from Damien. I tapped the messaging app. It was from Liv-Long.

“U ded?”

My heart leapt into my throat.

Oh fuck, Olivia messaged me.

Oh fuck! I’m not at school today. I looked at the time in the corner of the screen and sure enough, it was about when second period would start.

She clearly noted my absence, and with my message from yesterday she wanted to know what happened. Which means Damien didn’t pass along anything. …Did Damien not talk to her at all this morning? Maybe he was too flabbergasted that she even went.

I considered how to approach my reply. Her tone was pretty casual, so… maybe replying in kind was OK?

“At home today. Doc’s orders. Will be there tomorrow,” I replied.

I held my phone with both hands as my heart raced, waiting for a reply.

A moment later, one came.

“Ah.”

I deflated a bit.

It was a casual tone, but… I was sorta hoping for more.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance and chastised myself. No, moron. This is leagues better than you expected. The last time she actually saw you, you nearly tossed her down the stairs and killed her.

Still… it was the first response she’d given me since Christmas. And by what Damien said, she only offered the Paynes grunts or indifference.

What… did that mean? Did it mean something? Did it mean anything? Surely she wouldn’t hold me in higher regard than her own famil-

I'm not their family, if you haven't noticed.

The recollection of how Olivia felt in relation to the Paynes struck me.

I remembered the night of the formal. When Damien told her that they were discussing kicking her out. When he yelled at her. When Randy told us to leave. When she’d hurt Vinny’s feelings.

Olivia, the rest of us are talking about just kicking you out once we graduate!

Damien’s snarled yell echoed in my head.

He hadn’t meant to bring it up, but he laid out directly to Olivia’s face that they were confirming her greatest fear. That as soon as graduation happened she was out, and she had nothing and nowhere else.

Fuuuuuck fuck fuck.

“FUHH!” I yelled.

What do I do about this? Can I do anything about this? I anticipated her despising me. That’d be fine. Well… not fine, but… acceptable.

But the idea she’d choose whatever was leftover that they had scraped off the floor after the winter formal over her own godfamily? That was scary.

It was a really scary thought.

But who do I even talk to about this? Randy or Sophia? …maybe?

Mom and Dad were still kinda in the dark about what happened between me and Olivia, so they were out.

Damien seemed to be keeping at a safe distance which was, admittedly, probably the best bet for now.

Liz wouldn’t be able to help either. The last couple times Liz and Olivia had chatted had generally gone poorly.

Mr. Ferris was wise, but frankly I expected bringing anyone into the loop from the school that was core to the systematic trampling of her hopes and dreams would blow up something awful.

God damn it. Why wasn’t Iadakan still here.

I let my phone fall in my lap and pressed both of my palms to my eyes. The black eye was healing but had a ways to go yet. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the inner turmoil that was roiling within me.

I let it boil around in me, and slowly, but surely let it calm. 

I didn’t know what to do, but talking things out with people had… mostly worked out so far. And we did need to talk. So… maybe that was the right play. I didn’t know, but I didn’t have any other cards other than the Paynes and I wasn’t even sure if they could help.

Or if them being involved would just make things worse.

I breathed in and out deeply to settle myself.

Remember, Inco. Talking things out’s been working. It’s your best card to play.

If it doesn’t work… then at least you did what you could.

I picked my phone back up and typed a response.

“Talk to you tomorrow.”

I contemplated attaching the little dancing gator gif we liked to trade back and forth on the message, but thought better of it.

I was still going in blind on what the mood would be. So for now, we’ll play this safe.

A reply.

“K”

I let out a long, steady breath.

Ok. Tomorrow it was.

—

Fortunately, true to their word, my parents saw to me getting my phone replaced. It ended up being Dad again. Apparently they flipped a coin for the privilege again, too.

My parents were goofy as hell, but I was growing to like it a lot.

The transfer of data and applications went without a hitch, and I was the brand new owner of an identical replacement for the phone that was brand new two weeks ago. The expression of the sales rep absolutely read as “Be more careful next time.”

Sure pal, I’ll be extra-special sure to not have my phone launched when someone bodies me into the floor next time.

Dad stayed home with me after that and we ordered takeout. Mom didn’t get back till late. She looked exhausted, but had a triumphant smile to her. Whatever was happening at work went well, I guess. 

I wasn’t a fan of the partial-return to the status quo, but I felt close enough to my parents now that I could feel pleased seeing them proud of their work.

One step at a time.

I got my drawing tablet, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than get it set up. I was excited, certainly, but the looming specter of talking to Olivia clouded my head to the point I couldn’t focus on art.

I wasn’t sure if this was what artists block was, but if so I really hope they find a cure one day. It’s stressful as hell.

Morning came and Mom and Dad were already gone. I sighed. 

I followed my old routine and boarded the Metro. No Mr. Ferris to make smalltalk to. Or even risk maybe asking for advice on Olivia to. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. My head was too jumbled up.

School began.

Gym went without a hitch. While participation wasn’t mandatory, I didn’t want to get completely soft. While the rest of the students were having to do their usual sprints, I managed to talk Solly into letting me at least walk the laps.

He gave me a stern look-over, followed by a smirk. He approved.

Damien, without having to worry about Mia bitching up the front of the pack, absolutely crushed everyone else in his run time. He’d pause periodically as he lapped me to give me a goofy smile and a double-thumbs up before I’d shoo him off to keep running so Solly wouldn’t bring down the hammer.

Gym was a lot less stressful now that there was Mia-shaped hole in the roster.

Class ended, we hit the showers and broke away.

I navigated to Iadakan’s classroom, my hand hovering over the handle.

Alright, Inco. Fortress Olivia. The worst thing she can do is literally kill you.

…that admittedly wasn’t that funny.

I opened the door and sure enough, the green baryonyx girl was seated at her usual spot at the front. As the door opened, she reflexively turned her head, and our eyes met.

God I missed seeing her eyes.

The silver pools were backed by the same yellow sclera as always. She was wearing her normal pattern. Dark jeans, slippers, a black shirt with her favorite purple hoodie over it.

Her hair was a little longer.

And the bags under her eyes were still there.

As I discerned her, she returned the gesture. Subtle tweaks in her eyes and brow. Her lips curled towards a snarl but never quite made it that far. Whatever mental battle she was fighting with herself over seeing me again, eventually one side or another of it won out, and her face returned to her resting neutral expression.

Then she turned her focus back to the front of the class.

I took that as a sign I’d passed at least some initial validation check, and took my usual seat next to her.

I could feel her tense up slightly, but I let the situation sit for now. When she realized I wasn’t going to immediately start accosting her, she loosened, if only slightly.

Class began.

The sub continued to be as much of a horrid bore as she was before. 

I wasn’t supposed to, but honestly if I didn’t do SOMETHING, I would certainly fall asleep in class and get in trouble anyways. I pulled out my phone and using the stylus, scrawled out a note and flashed it at Olivia.

“What’s up?”

She read the message and returned her focus to the front of the class. But her arms began to move. She opened her notebook and scratched out a note of her own.

“Not much. You look like you almost died.”

A little bit of a smirk tugged at my face. Her expression remained a practiced neutral.

“Almost did,” I replied, trying for a spot of levity.

Her brow tweaked and a frown formed. She looked down and stared at her desk.

Fuck. Wrong thing to say.

“But I’m doing alright, now,” I hastily scrawled.

Again, she read the note, but the soft, saddened expression held. Her eyes drifted to the neck brace.

I hate my neck brace.

“Doc’s forcing me to wear it. Hasn’t hurt at all for a week now.”

That was a lie, of course, but she didn’t need to know that at the moment. She raised her claw to the page for a moment before jotting down her response.

“Sorry.”

And that was the end of the conversation for the rest of the period.

It could’ve gone worse but… it also could have gone better.

Class ended.

Olivia had wheeled herself out early as she had always done, so I expected to not see her until the cafeteria. To my surprise, however, she was waiting in the hall.

“Wanna roll with me?” she asked.

I nodded.

We walked to the elevator, and Olivia tapped the call button, which immediately opened the doors. I slipped in alongside her, as I had often done in the first semester. She reached into pocket for the key, but I produced my own and inserted it into the slot, and pressed the first floor button for her.

She shot me a quizzical look.

This was probably the best time to pull this particular bandaid off. When we were alone.

“Ih muh acohahahons,” I garbled out.

The standard pattern.

Her brow furrowed, her eyes stared. The wheels turned and then the look of horror settled on her face.

“Fuck… Inco…” she whispered.

I shook my head and pulled out my phone.

“It’s fine. I get by. On the plus side, I’m medically justified to use my phone in class,” my text-to-speech voice explained as I gave a smile.

Her face contorted into a forced smile and she played with her claws as we waited for the rickety elevator to settle, hitting the ground floor.

“Ha…hah, yeah…” she said.

That joke didn’t land either. Crap.

The only option I had was just trying to establish some level of normalcy.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I pulled out my key and before she could wheel forward, I stepped partway out into the hall and swung my arms out and bowed low, as if I was ushering her from a limousine. 

As I stole a glance at her, I could see the barest flicker of a smile.

Ok, that was something.

“Come on. I’ll treat us to the best junk food vending machines can offer. Like usual,” my digital voice droned.

The smile faded at hearing it, but she didn’t look quite as disturbed as before.

It’s OK Olivia. Just treat me normally.

As long as I don’t out myself, I’m normal. Like you.

My conversation with Ben popped into my head and I suppressed the frown that tried to follow it.

Yeah. Yeah we’re the same. I got it.

We got to the cafeteria, but there was no playful bowling over of other students using Olivia as a battering ram. I didn’t dare overstep our bounds. She wheeled over to her usual spot while I accumulated a junk food pile fit for a king.

I laid out the spread on the table as usual, and everyone grabbed their cut as was our custom. Olivia hesitated only for a moment before I gestured for her to partake as well.

It’s fine, Olivia. It’s normal.

That seemed to settle her, and she went about munching on a bag of chips as usual.

Damien was trying his hardest to not pop, like he was holding something in. I sighed, and leaned over to him, and he flipped up his frills for another not-so-secret secret meeting.

“Dude! How is it going! Has she said anything to you?”

I jotted down about how we had a brief conversation in art and he aggressively nodded his head.

“She hasn’t talked to you?”

His face fell to a sad disappointed look.

“Nah, man. She’s grunted answers at Mom and Pop like she used to, but she doesn’t even seem to acknowledge I’m real. It kinda hurts.”

“I’ll try and figure out what’s up. Just sit tight,” I noted down.

Another furious nod before he let me return back.

Olivia fired off one of her classic raised eyebrows at me before deciding she didn’t really care all that much and returned to her chips.

“So. Liz,” I used my TTS to break the awkward silence.

Olivia tensed slightly again at hearing it, but otherwise continued to snack.

“Yes, Inco?”

Liz’s head lowered from the leafy greens above. I will always be amazed that she can speak so clearly even when she has a whole mouthful of leaves.

“I got that drawing tablet in. Hadn’t used it yet, but I got it set up. I want to give it a try tonight,” my digital voice explained.

“Oh! How wonderful! It worked great for me when I started out, I’m sure it’ll work well for you. If you have any questions about how to use it, feel free to ask,” she returned with a pleased smile.

In my periphery, I noted that Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. She’d obviously known I’d started doodling in the group chat, but committing to a real, actual piece of art equipment was a novel step.

One she didn’t really anticipate, clearly. In fairness, I didn’t anticipate it until yesterday either.

“Yo? Inky, you’re gunna do digital art like Liz?” Damien asked.

“Not quite the same. I want to look into sketches. She recommended me a good drawing tablet to get started,” I replied.

“You’re not gunna get… a new camera?” He questioned.

His voice started with his normal energy, but stumbled before the end, realizing that it may be a bad question to ask.

Liz, feeling the awkwardness of the new twist, hoisted her head back into the rafters, completely dodging this part of the conversation entirely. I couldn’t blame her, but she was a traitor.

Damien looked pained. 

Olivia though, had a neutral expression, but was staring a hole into me. She’d stopped eating her chips and was waiting to see what the answer was.

I didn’t dare look her way.

“No. I’ve been considering it the past weeks and I don’t think I’ll do photography anymore,” I answered.

“I see,” was all Damien could manage.

I turned my focus to Olivia without turning my head to see her reaction.

She looked… sad?

“It’s fine, though. I’ve been having a lot of fun doing the doodles. It’s also easier to do whenever, as opposed to needing to haul a camera and lenses everywhere,” I tried to redirect.

Damien’s furious nodding returned, like he was trying to agree to the point for everyone.

Olivia’s downcast expression returned to her chips before crushing up the bag and just… leaving.

I turned to watch her leave as she wheeled herself out of the cafeteria.

I let out a sigh.

Not how I was hoping that would go.

“Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking and… I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Damien apologized.

I waved him off.

“You didn’t mean anything by it. The subject is going to be sensitive for a while,” I replied.

My dismissal didn’t really seem to help him feel better. Obviously he’d noted the especially cold reception Olivia had been giving him, so her leaving when he brought up a sore subject was probably extra-unpleasant.

“We’ll figure it out, Damien,” I told him.

Next was photography. I wish I could swap classes, but it was second semester now. I’d be too far behind on any lessons for a different class. I was consigned to sit through a class for a subject I had no interest in trying again.

I spent the period ‘taking notes’ on my phone. By which I mean I just doodled. The substitute teacher shot me an annoyed glance periodically, but she couldn’t really say anything about my phone use unless it was apparent I was doing something I shouldn’t.

I also noted Ben’s absence. I hadn’t figured he’d try and track me down during lunch or anything when I got back, but I’d at least expected him to show up to class. We didn’t part on the best of terms on Monday, but I felt we had reached some level of understanding of one another at least.

I weighed sending him a message but thought better of it. If he was in a bad enough mood to skip class - Mr. Student Council Prez himself - then the last thing he’d want to have to deal with is me badgering him.

Class ended.

On to history.

I got to class and Olivia was already in her spot. As I entered, she stole a glance back at me, and I gave her a nod in return. After another moment of maintaining the stare, she gave me a slow nod herself and returned her focus to her book.

We didn’t exchange any notes. The class passed as boringly as Ms. Prockling could make it. I focused mainly on Olivia for the duration of it.

She didn’t try any glances after that first one. She was just huddled over and focused inward. It was almost like back when she was beating herself up over the art contest. It pained me to see.

Class neared its conclusion and Olivia was let out early. She stole a glance at me again just before she exited the room, which I returned as before.

Hrm. Well. If I was lucky, she’d be waiting for me outside the school, and we could talk then.

School concluded, and I went out as I usually did. To my surprise, Olivia was actually out there waiting for me.

I approached her quickly, but cautiously. I didn’t want to spook her. Didn’t want to make her think of the stairs again.

“Hey,” my TTS voice said.

She flinched again before turning to face me.

“...hey.”

We waited there in the cold air for a moment in silence. Clouds of our warm breath dancing on the wind.

“I think we need to talk,” I said.

I could hear her swallow. Her hands shoved into her hoodie pocket, but I could tell by the movement of it she was wringing her hands out of stress. After a moment, she nodded. She still wasn’t looking my way.

“So. I wa-”

“No. Wait,” she said, cutting me off.

Or, well she tried to, but the text to speech voice finished what I had typed in.

“-nted to apologize to you.”

Her head whipped around so fast I was afraid she would need the neckbrace.

“What? Yo-... Wh- what for?” her voice was raised.

That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

Her face was contorted, and filled with sorrow. Like the words had been a slap across the face. I just stared at her for a moment, confused at where this conversation was spinning to.

“Look. Let's find some place we can sit down for a bit. Somewhere that isn’t cold?”

Now her face tightened into an annoyed frown. She replied with frustrated huff.

“Fine.”

I gestured to her towards the metro and she followed suit. I had contemplated going to a restaurant or something, but what was likely to be inbound was a private affair. And likely involved tears and shouting, if the last two weeks were any indication.

“My place OK? It’s quiet. I have snacks,” I offered.

“Sure.”

She wheeled to the designated spot and flipped the collapsable seat up. I took a seat next to her. The trip went by in silence.

We reached our stop, and Olivia followed me off. We continued in silence down the streets until we reached my place. Not a word needed to be said, she still remembered where I lived.

No car in the driveway, and no sign it’d been stashed in the garage. Good, Mom and Dad were still at work. That almost felt alien to be happy about, now, but me and Olivia would need our privacy for what comes next. I didn’t need them interrupting anything.

I opened the door and held it wide for her as she wheeled herself to the living room. I pulled out a few odd snacks Mom had restocked the pantry with, and some sodas from the fridge and laid them out on the table in the living room.

I moved the piece of sectional of the couch to give Olivia a place to seat her wheelchair more comfortably, but she stayed put. 

Alright.

I took my seat on the couch.

Olivia’s face told me she wanted to go first. Her eyes squinted in frustration, flicking to me. Her tail whipped back and forth behind her. After a minute of contemplation, she began.

“Why do you think you need to apologize to me?”

I wasn’t as dumbstruck by the question this time, as it was obviously going to be what we’d return to, but I was certainly perplexed by it.

“Why wouldn’t I? Olivia I helped destroy your self confidence. Helped hurt your connection to your fami-”

“THEY ARE NOT MY FAMILY,” she snarled, her sharp teeth on full display.

“-ly. I tormented you and gave you up to Ben and Mia. And I almost got you killed,” my text-to-speech voice finished.

Her eyes squeezed shut at the last part. The fangs were still exposed, but her eyebrows turned up, her expression moving from anger to agony.

“No… I did that to myself. You… you were just…” Olivia began, “You were just trying to help. You didn’t mean anything by it and I… I acted like a child.”

“Olivia.” I said.

“I’m sorry, Inco. You were right about everything. You did so much for me and I just kept acting like a spoiled child. I kept slapping your help away. When you tried to hug me to make me feel better, I let my anger get the better of me. I pushed you away, and you had to save me from myself!”

She brought her head up. I recognized that face. I remembered it perfectly. It was when she was crying after I found her in the rain. On the day of announcing the finalists for the art contest.

Tears rolled down her face freely.

I stood and moved in front of her.

She flinched, but didn’t resist. I reached out and, after only a moment of hesitation, grabbed both of her hands in my own.

“Olihihah,” I garbled out her name.

“I did that… I did that to you… It’s all my fault…” she barely managed out through her sobs.

Her head drooped down, and I raised myself up slightly. I slipped my hands around her back and behind her neck and pulled her into my embrace. She didn’t resist this time. This time was different.

It wasn’t me being a self-serving ass that couldn’t see what harm he was doing. It wasn’t me being a socially maladjusted cancer on his friend group. It wasn’t me being a psychological abuser of his girlfriend.

It was New Inco, trying to give comfort to a girl that time and time again had been beaten down by the world around her.

I was all cried out from the last two weeks. I wasn’t sure if I’d be restocked anytime soon. But the urge to weep with her was there. Her snout was laid over my shoulder, her arms limp in her lap. She cried openly, with her tears wetting my own cheek. 

The words weren’t coherent, but hopefully the meaning was as I whispered comforts into her ear. I ran my hand through her hair. Anything at all I could do to bring this poor girl even a sliver of solace.

I couldn’t say how long we stayed like that. Even after the weeping ended and the tears stopped, I was scared to break away. It felt like doing so would be abandoning her again.

Her shuddering breaths steadied. As she composed herself enough to control her breathing, she began whispering apologies to me. Answering my well wishes with her sorrows. 

I wasn’t sure if it was going to be too forward, but it felt like releasing her was an even more treacherous option. All I had done for this girl when she needed support was leaving her behind. She could be angry at me for this if she wanted. It was better than seeing her like this.

Without pulling my head from hers, I shifted my angle, and slipped my arm that was behind her head away. I looped it under her knees, and with a bit of a grunt, I hoisted her from her wheelchair.

Olivia’s only reaction was to emit a small ‘eep’, before she realized what I was doing. I lifted her fully and waddled my way over to the couch. My arms were burning, but I’d happily let my muscles explode if it’d let me keep control right now.

I pivoted again, and I laid myself back into the couch. Olivia was curled against me. After I’d settled, she shimmied a little bit and adjusted her own.

I took that as a sign I finally did something right for her.

She couldn’t look at me, still. Her snout still draped on my shoulder, and her arms thrown around my head. I reached into my pocket and acquired my phone. This was going to be a hell of a trick pulling a conversation off like this, but I wasn’t about to let her slip away again.

It was slow going, but I managed to get a rhythm typing in letters to my text to speech app with just my one thumb. I queued up the message and looped my arm around by her head so she could hear it.

“You didn’t do anything to me, Olivia. I did this to myself.”

She sniffled and dug her face tighter against me.

“That’s a lie. You saved me,” she whispered. Even with her face against mine, I could barely hear what she was saying.

“I did. I saved you from me. It was the only good thing I did that night. And I’d do it again in an instant.”

She was out of tears, but her breath hitched again.

“I failed you so many times, Olivia. But I would never let that happen to you. I have a lot to make up for, but if you’re willing, I’d like to try.”

She held still for a moment, before nodding, her snout rubbing up and down the side of my head.

I let my typing arm rest, draping it across her back and held her.

There was more to say. A lot more. Maybe too much to ever get through. But for the moment, this was what we needed. What she needed. And I would give it to her for as long as she wanted it.

I slowly pulled myself out of my slumber. I’d clearly nodded off. I pulled my arm up that still, thankfully, held my phone. Only about 40 minutes had passed. 

Olivia was quietly snoring into my ear. This position reminded me of after we agreed to become a couple and I had crashed at the Paynes place. She’d shown me her chest, and then we crashed. I slept in her bean bag chair, she had the bed. And at some point while we slept, she’d navigated her way over to sleep on top of me, without me even noticing.

Feeling her pressed against me, like a weighted blanket, was one of the most comforting things in the world. I missed this. I missed it so much.

I could feel her breath in and out, her chest pressing against me. Her arms still holding me in place, wrapped around my head, and her tail coiled around my leg. Not that I wanted to move.

I just laid there, listening to her snoring into my ear. Even if what led to this entire mess was one miserable tragedy after another, I was happy this specific moment was happening, at least.

I let my breathing synchronize with hers. Every exhale of mine lead to a ‘snnnrk’ of hers.

God damn she was the cutest.

But even so… as much as I’d like this moment to last forever, I knew we weren’t done here.

It was apparent that she didn’t hold any ill will against me. That unto itself was problematic, frankly. We’d have to talk about that. There’s a difference between forgiving me, and pretending that Old Inco was right all along and she was in the wrong.

That was hideously incorrect, and I refused to let her keep that worldview. I didn’t warrant it, and it would be deeply unhealthy for her. 

There was also the matter of her seeming rejection of the Paynes. The cause of that was at least a bit more obvious, but I think it would also be harder to help her correct. Yes, the Paynes had hurt her. But they weren’t seriously going to throw her to the streets. I’d like to say Olivia would have to know that, but…

Given how much adversity she’s had to face everywhere else in her life, it wasn’t hard to see how she’d finally ‘realized’ that the Paynes finally failed her too.

One step at a time, Inco.

“Hehh…” I whispered into her ear.

“Mmnngg,” she mumbled, somehow pulling herself even tighter into me.

“Olihihah. Weh nehh to geh uhh,” I cooed to her.

“Mmnnnggggggno,” she replied.

That put a smile on my face, and I could feel one tugging at her snout against my cheek.

I rubbed my hand along her back for a moment longer, before pulling them away and rotating my torso so she slid off of me onto the couch. She resisted the forces of gravity as long as she could, but eventually she let go of my head and fell back into the cushions.

“Noooo…” came the barely audible whimper.

My composure failed me and I laughed.

And my laugh broke hers, and she smiled.

Seeing it again was like a warm summer day.

I leaned down and placed my forehead against hers.

“Weh stihh hah tuh tahh,” I whispered.

“I have no idea what you just said,” she said playfully.

I groaned slightly, and pulled myself away, earning yet another playful complaint.

I readied my phone again before sinking into the cushions, as pressed up alongside her as I could manage without letting her try and smother me again.

I suspected it was half because she missed this contact as well, and half her trying to put off the rest of our conversation.

Sorry gator-girl, but this is happening. Both of us need to work through this. I thought through what all I wanted to say. There was a lot, of course, but I resolved to deal with the Paynes issue later. If me and her worked out our problems, then we’d have a solid foundation to deal with everything else.

So, first things first.

“I don’t blame you for anything, Olivia. What I did at the formal. When I said everything everyone said about you was true. I was wrong. I was pigheaded. I was hurtful. And I was wrong.” 

As the voice read out my message, I turned to look at her. I did my best to make my face say ‘I was wrong. Not you” to compliment the words as my phone read them out.

She listened and watched me.

“I was egotistical. Narcissistic. Spineless. When we talked after I found you. After the art contest thing. You called me a pretentious, self-centered midwit.”

She flinched, recalling the memory.

“And you ended up being right. Even at the time, I felt hurt when you said that, but acknowledged that it was closer to home than I wanted it to be.”

She opened her mouth as she tried to interject, but I gently placed my finger on the end of her snout to quiet her.

“Let me talk, and then you can have your turn. We need to get everything laid out or we can’t put the puzzle pieces together.”

She nodded.

“I kept thinking most about myself. Yes, I loved you. Still do. But after Mr. Iadakan passed, everything I did was to spare myself.”

Her eyes clouded at the mentioning of his name, but held to our agreement to let me talk.

“You were hurting, and I would make a weak attempt to cheer you up. When it didn’t work I would just leave. Either the room or the Paynes’ place. Getting rejected when I tried to help hurt me. So I ran away. I spared myself having to try and help you through your hurts,” my digital voice continued.

“And that was wrong, and weak of me. A support is no good if it crumbles under the lightest loads.”

She snorted at that, but there was a slight smile to her eyes. She clearly wasn’t all that impressed with my metaphors. Something to work on later.

“I tried to take you on a nice date, to get your mind off things, and I was egotistical enough to think I knew what the best date would be. Even though I’d never taken a girl on a date before. I could have just asked you what you thought. But I ‘knew better’.”

She scowled a little at remembering that disaster of a date.

Same, girl.

“Even when I took you shopping to try and make up for it. When you picked out that old retro game, in my head I was hurt that none of my suggestions were anything you wanted. It was all about my feelings again, even though the date was to make you feel better. And so the story goes. Over and over again. A cycle of that, slowly wearing you down. Until the formal.”

Her hands snaked their way to one of mine and pulled it down into their embrace. Mentioning the formal meant we were getting into the really bad bits. I squeezed my hand to reassure her, and she squeezed back.

We’re a team, we can do this.

“When you were clearly agitated about me pushing the formal and doing the eulogy, I ignored it. Your heart wasn’t in it. You even told me that you felt it was just self-appeasement for the living and you didn’t see the point. I felt slighted because I had agreed with Ben about doing it.”

At the mention of Ben’s name, her hands tightened, and her claws dug into my skin slightly.

“When you had your fight with the Paynes, I stayed silent. So we left and went to the formal. And the whole time, I was just pushing you about everything. Talking up the eulogy. Saying you didn’t prepare for it.”

I paused for a moment before continuing to the next part.

“Getting Mia to give you those so-called acting tips.”

Her face curled into a sneer and her claws tightened into my skin, but she continued to hold onto my hand. Come on Olivia, we can do this.

“Letting Ben take you off for final preparations. And then, I was stupid and egotistical enough to think that you were going to put on this masterful performance of a eulogy with their help. So I would take pictures of it. It didn’t occur to me until you looked up at me that it wasn’t acting. I couldn’t imagine your hurt in that moment being real, because I would have been causing it.”

Her breathing quickened and became shallow.

“You ran, and I gave chase. I confronted you on the stairs and blamed you for everything. The fact that I did should be all the evidence you need to see how awful I had been behaving. But in one last self-centered move I wanted to ‘hug it out’. Like that would magically fix everything I’d done to you.”

Her claws squeezed again. I could feel them break the skin ever-so-slightly.

“And you did the only thing a sane person would do to someone that crazy. You tried to get away. You pushed me away and I had backed you up against the stairs. I had put both of us into that position. And when I saw you falling, I realized what was happening. And I made a decision in that moment to save you.”

Olivia's eyes were wide, staring off into the room. She was likely reliving that moment just as I was as I retold it.

“I thought at the time I was making some noble gesture, but the reality of it was is that I was just fixing my mistake. I put us into that situation, so saving you and pulling you out of it was the only right thing to do. I don’t remember anything after that before waking up in the hospital.”

She was barely even breathing now.

We’re almost there, Olivia.

“I told you that I don’t regret saving you. And I don’t. I never will. You are the most beautiful, talented, caring person I’ve ever met. I would happily trade my life for yours. That I only paid with my ability to speak is a discount. I would happily pay that again, every day. Because it means you’re alive, and safe. I can live with that. Happily.”

Shakes racked Olivia’s body beside me. She was out of tears, but the outflow of emotion would not be stopped.

“I’ve done a whole lot of thinking since I woke up Olivia. I’ve examined what I’ve done, and what I was as a person. The only parts of the old me that were worth anything at all were the parts that made you, Liz and Damien happy. I’ll throw away any part of the old me that would hurt any of you.”

She finally interjected, her throat taut.

“Like photography?”

I nodded.

I wasn’t sure how much she knew about Damien’s confrontation with me, but it wasn’t worth getting into right now.

“I don’t have my camera anymore, Olivia. And thinking about getting a new one always brings back the memory of when I was taking pictures of you on the stage. I get sick to my stomach. I can’t do it again. I can’t bear the memory of hurting you that way every time I take a picture,” my digital voice read out.

Meanwhile, my own face was contorted, trying to make it through this without myself succumbing to tears. I had thought I was all cried out, but it seemed that THAT memory could still cut me in ways I couldn’t contend with.

Fuck Old Inco.

“I… liked your pictures,” she said. One of her thumbs was gently tracing the small pinprick punctures from her claws.

That stuck me hard.

“Not those last ones, but I liked watching you be passionate about photography. I liked it when you took pictures of things. Of people. At Summer’s End.  I liked when you took pictures of my art,” she continued, her voice growing raspier.

I had really forgotten about those moments. The idea of photography always lead to the formal. It had crushed any prior joys I felt about photography, but Olivia remembered.

“I don’t think we’re that different, in that. After Mr. Iadakan… died. Pushing myself to do the painting I promised him hurt. It was his last request, but it felt like it was too late. And remembering that made me start to hate it. Like if I started painting that fountain, it was me cheating on my promise to him. So I started getting angry. At the idea of painting or drawing anything,” she said as she lowered her head to rest on my shoulder.

Looks like it was her turn now, so I kept my mouth shut.

“You always complimented my work. I could tell you were being honest. You really loved them. Even the stupid little sketches. But I could only see my failing to make that painting before he passed.”

Hahhh… yeah. She’s right, we are alike like that.

“It’s the same for you with your photography. You can only remember that bad part and ignore all the good parts. Listening to what you said, I think we both need to throw away the bad parts of ourselves. And focus on the good.”

I nodded. Her voice was getting hoarse, so I leaned forward and grabbed her a soda. She drained it quickly and returned her head to my shoulder. I laid my head on hers.

“I wanted to put all the blame on myself for everything, but it isn’t that simple.”

“It isn’t,”  my TTS voice answered.

“It’s everyone screwing up that got us here. The only thing we can do is try harder and learn from it, right?”

I nodded.

“I’m… still mad at Damien. Hearing that they decided to throw me out. It’s what I wanted, I guess. I was being self destructive and lashing out at everyone. Even Vinny. Like we talked about before. It would be easier if they just hated me and got rid of me. Then they could move on and be happy. It confirmed my fears, so I just rolled with it.”

“Do you really think anyone wants to hate you?” I asked, mirroring the same words Liz asked me.

She shook her head.

“I know they don’t. But I was so terrible to them. I tried to force their hand so it didn’t matter what they wanted. I felt… that I could take it, as long as they were no longer burdened. But it was stupid. All I did was make them feel worse. And I became a bigger and bigger burden. And even then? After I spat in their faces, and hurt Vinny and lashed out at all of them? After the formal they let me back in.”

Her voice fell to a whisper.

“Even though I should have been tossed out onto the street right then and there… when you got… when you were taken to the hospital, Damien and Liz took me home. They told Randy what happened. And everyone wanted to go to the hospital to see you right then. But… I couldn’t.”

I watched as she rubbed at the palm of one of her hands with the other. Her eyes were locked on it intensely.

“You shielded me from the fall. I landed on you and we broke my wheelchair. I had a few cuts and bruises. I probably twisted an ankle too or something if I could feel it,” she sniffed out a laugh.

“When I climbed off of you… there was so much blood. You weren’t moving, you didn’t respond and there was just more and more blood coming from you. I don’t even remember screaming. I just felt I had to protect you. We got back, and Randy asked me if I wanted to go with them, and Sophia would stay home with Vinny and I just couldn’t. All I could see was all the blood. I was still covered in it, even. It was soaked into my dress.”

She was quiet for a long moment, lost in the unpleasant memories again.

“So I just abandoned you. I couldn’t see you dead in the hospital. I was sure you were dead and I couldn’t bear to see that. Even for all the horrible things you said. And did. I said I hated you. But I didn’t want you dead. I couldn’t bear seeing you with a blanket draped over you.”

“But I didn’t die,” I offered.

She sniffed.

“No. You didn’t. You messaged me after you woke up and I was torn. I felt terrible. I should have been there for you when you woke up. I felt like my behavior had almost gotten you killed, and then I dropped you and left you to your fate so I wouldn’t be hurt to see the results. I got angry. At you. At myself, so I didn’t respond. I ran away from you again.”

I nodded.

“I should have been happy. That we had a chance to fix things. But I wasn’t and that only made me feel even worse. I figured you had to hate me now. I said all that stuff, and you had said everything, and I nearly got you killed, so you wouldn't want to see me again. And since I had already burned my bridges with the Paynes, I just… decided to wait it out.”

“Wait it out?”

“Just hole up in my room until graduation time. Then they’d kick me out and everyone would be free to live better lives,” she sniffled again.

“But you kept talking to me. Occasional messages, including me in the group chat. You were even doodling! And it made me feel worse and worse. Like every time I felt like replying, if I did, then my not saying anything before would feel like I was just throwing a tantrum. So I wouldn’t. And that WAS the tantrum,” she continued.

I grabbed one of her hands with my free palm and held it. She squeezed my hand.

“And then Christmas happened. Obviously people came over, but I’d shut myself off. Maybe Un- Randy told me you’d come over at some point. I don’t remember. I probably tuned him out. But there were voices I didn’t recognize. So I risked peeking to see who it was. And I saw you. You were in my house!”

“I was, yeah.” 

“I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to crawl out there and apologize. I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to hit you. To run you out of the house. I wanted to hug you. I didn’t know what to do. My mind was so tangled up. So… I just ran away again.”

I remembered watching her singular eye through the door slit for a long moment. I couldn’t make out what emotions she was feeling because of the narrow angle. But if she had opened the door a little wider maybe I would’ve been able to see what she was going through.

But maybe I wasn’t ready to talk with her then, either. I didn’t know.

“You just stared at me, and I couldn’t tell what you were thinking, so I ran away. And that made me angrier at myself. And then…” she choked, “And then you gave me that present.”

“Did you like it?”

“Of course I liked it, moron!” she yelled, “I opened it and saw what it was and knew what it was immediately. The quill. The engraving. I had spent a week making myself miserable in my room, running away from you, not talking to you! And you… and you gave me that?”

New tears were forming.

“You wanted me to paint again,” she said, as a statement of fact, not a question.

“I did,” I confirmed.

“You wanted me to finish what I promised Mr. Iadakan.”

“Yes.”

“You could have given me any stupid, expensive toy. Clothes. A new computer. Hell, you probably could’ve bought me a car. Anything to try and ‘make up for’ what had happened before. But you just wanted me to paint again.”

She swallowed, fighting to continue.

“So I realized that, if I was going to be kicked out soon. Then I could.. I could still move forward. The Paynes hated me. Damien hated me. It hurt. But if you believed I could paint, just like Mr. Iadakan, then I still had something. Something I could do.”

I waited for her to finish her thought. I realized I was mistaken back when I confronted her about the art contest before. I interjected and didn’t let her explain everything. And that led to misunderstandings. We didn’t get all the puzzle pieces.

“They would put up with me until graduation. So I just had to finish that. I didn’t know what the future held. But I’d finish school. And I’d keep painting. It was all I had, but when I looked at that pen… I felt like Mr. Iadakan was telling me that it was enough. To keep moving forward.”

“That’s all I want. I didn’t dare to hope you still liked me. Not after what I did. But if I could undo the damage I caused to your love of art, then I was OK with that. I didn’t want to try and ‘save’ you anymore. I wanted to support you doing what you love.”

We both thought she had run out of tears from before, but that broke her again.

We let ourselves cool down. Passions had run high, and we took a break. We shared a soda as we sat in quiet contemplation for a time.

Eventually, I broke the silence first. I tapped out my question into my phone.

“So where does this leave us?”

She tilted her head back and looked deep in thought.

“I think we agree we both made mistakes.”

“Definitely,”

“And that we need to work to fix those mistakes,” she continued.

“Of course,” my digital voice concurred.

“You’ve already been doing a lot of that, by the sounds of it. So… I guess I gotta catch up. Follow your lead.”

“I’ll support you every step of the way,” the synthetic voice said as I chuckled.

“I… need to apologize to the Paynes. From what you say, and… what I know. They’ll forgive me. But it won’t be easy. For me. I’ve spent so much time convincing myself to be hated by them that it’s hard to think of it any other way. Any time I try to think otherwise, I just remember what Damien said about them throwing me out.”

I sighed and let my head fall back onto the cushion remembering that.

“I know. It was a moment of anger. He didn’t mean it, like how I didn’t mean to hurt Vinny. But still. It won’t leave my head. So… I gotta work on that.”

“Sure,” my TTS voice agreed.

“As for you… I think you just need to keep doing what you’re doing,” she said, looking to me with a small smile.

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I think I need. You said yourself you’d help me every step of the way. That’s it. I just need someone to help push me along when it’s too much.”

“Oh? I’m back to being allowed to push you around?” my flat digitized voice not matching to my shit-eating grin.

“Well, we are currently cuddled up right now. I feel like that’s a bit more intimate than pushing my wheelchair.”

Fair.

For the first time since the second period of class today, we were finally just comfortably together.

There was certainly more work to be done. We talked about a lot of things, but really tackling 6 months of stupid teenager shenanigans was going to take more than one - albeit long - conversation. We didn’t even cover the fact that I now knew everything about her history with Ben, but that also felt like something that we’d deal with later, rather than right now.

While she said what I was doing now was all that I needed to do, that still felt like treading water. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be the kind of man people knew they could always rely on. And I had a hell of a backlog of empirical evidence to the contrary to overcome.

But I felt good about it. It felt doable. I’d helped repair and recover my relationships with Liz, the Paynes. Even my parents, which I had thought was impossible. So I just… needed to keep doing what I was doing, I guess.

Huh.

For Olivia’s part, she knew I wanted to see her get back into art, and she seemed to agree. Which was amazing. She also realized she needed to work things out with the Paynes, which was good. I wasn’t sure that I was equipped to help her through something like that, though. As Randy and Sophia noted, I’m ultimately just some guy. And there’s always going to be things I’m not equipped to handle.

But then, that’s why I talked to Mr. Ferris.

I wouldn;t broach the subject today. It felt like we were on a high note, but I think Olivia seeing a therapist would be a good idea. For me as well, but her for sure. 

As the gator-girl rested her head across my chest, and her tail laid across my lap, I enjoyed the deep vibration she was emitting as she breathed. She was like a big cat. 

“So. Last question for now.” my digital voice breaking the silence.

“Mmm?”

“Where does that leave ‘us’?”

She rolled her head so she could see my eyes with one of hers.

“I think we made good progress today. Do you still want to be… an ‘us’?”

“I do,” I answered.

Her scales flushed red.

“One condition then,” she said.

Uh…OK?

“That is?” I asked.

“I need you to take some pictures of that fountain for me,” she said.

I felt a knot in my gut. I know she didn’t want me to drop photography, but…

“If you do that, then I can paint it.”

Oh. Oh!

“And then we can give it to Mr. Iadakan. Together.”

A wide grin took control of my face.

“I’d like that. I’m sure he would too.”

“Yeah,” she said as she leaned up and planted her lips on mine, “Yeah he would.”

Chapter Text

Never let it be said that Inco G. Nito was not a young, red-blooded, human male. It was important to note that, because it was taking every ounce of my willpower to not do some decidedly irresponsible things to my girlfriend in the living room of my parent’s house.

Olivia had reasserted the status of our relationship with that kiss, and I definitely wanted to move things further. I reaaaaaally wanted to. But it definitely wasn’t the right time. We just got done working through 6 months of traumatic experiences over the last hour or so and I didn’t want to tie… intimate actions with that.

Absolute bedroom killer.

I think Olivia felt the same, thankfully, as after our smooch, she cuddled up against me and just relaxed, and began her bellowing purr again. I laid back into the cushions and got comfortable. We’d have to return her home at some point, but I think it could wait. Especially if I explained to Randy how much progress the two of us made.

Still, in the interest of not exposing Olivia to an apparently Paynes-obligatory ‘the talk’ again, we’d have to get her home at a vaguely reasonable hour.

But vaguely reasonable was sometime between now and… probably midnight or something. I had time to spare to enjoy the moment with my girlfriend. I looked down and watched how her tail snaked its way around my leg with distant fascination. She’d done it before, but it was just kinda… cool to watch. It was also a clear sign of affection, as she obviously didn’t want me to go anywhere.

Fine by me.

I leaned slightly over to grab the remote to the TV. Olivia protested, but she knew I wasn’t actually trying to escape, so it was a halfhearted whine at best. I flipped on the smart TV service and began browsing.

Olivia made a few suggestions of what to watch. The existing apps on the TV weren’t great or anything, but there were enough streaming services on tap we were able to pick one that happened to have an anime she’d been itching to get me to watch.

And I had not a singular complaint.

We binged our way through the first half of the season. It was highly entertaining, with Olivia piping in periodically to drop little bits of the lore or the odd easter egg reference. I didn’t really follow along with everything, but the show itself was certainly enthralling enough, and I hadn’t seen her have this much energy for something since she told me about that anime of hers at the arcade.

I loved watching her eyes light up as she gushed about the show.

We were about to queue up the next episode when the front door swung open.

“Hey, kiddo, you in h-” Dad began saying before hard stopping.

He was taking stock of the situation before him.

It wasn’t THAT bad, of course, we were watching TV and all our clothes were on. But he had never met Olivia before. I think they were beginning to think I was lying when I had said I had a girlfriend.

“Hon, what’s-” the question leading in from the door was cut off with a gasp.

And there was Mom following behind.

Part of me was ecstatic that they got home at a semi-reasonable time again. They looked tired, but not completely wiped out.

The other part of me could feel my face beginning to heat up.

Olivia, meanwhile, was red as a tomato.

“Hah… haha! I hope we, uh, weren’t interu-” Dad started to say.

“Oh muh guh dah, NUH!” I groaned, slapping my free hand to my forehead.

Olivia couldn’t take it anymore, and her face collapsed into the crook of my shoulder and began doing a weird combination of a giggle and a groan. Her tail constricted even tighter to the point I was worried if it went on too long, I’d lose circulation in my leg.

“We can always come back later if you two need some time alone!” Mom offered.

“Mooooooooom!”

My parents clearly relished the opportunity to embarrass their son in front of his girlfriend. Which was fair, I guess. It’s probably a law somewhere that parents have to embarrass their kids on some quota-basis or something.

Something to keep in mind when I have my own.

For now, however, I sat on the couch, with Olivia at a ‘tasteful in front of the parents’ distance next to me. She was making small talk with Mom and Dad, getting properly introduced. Olivia was regaling about how we’d had classes together, how she’d been distrustful of me - but then would draw me anyways - which put a concerning sparkle in Mom’s eye.

How we grew friendly. The events at the arcade. How we helped each other after Mr. Iadakan’s passing, which led to us dating proper. Olivia spared my parents the more difficult parts. They had an idea of how things shook out in the end, and were more than smart enough to not bring down the mood with questions pursuing the details of that.

She concluded the catch-up tale by affirming, with a squeeze of my hand, which put butterflies back into my stomach, that we had worked things out and were together again. I couldn’t hold back the dopey grin that was on my face.

“Well, I’m compelled to give Inco a hard time for not introducing us to such a lovely young woman sooner, but… well, we were often busy. I… suppose the opportunity never came up,” Dad said, some regret in his voice.

Olivia shook her head.

“It’s fine, Mr. Nito. My dad’s the same way. He can’t provide for me if he doesn’t work, so he’s gone a lot too. It’s not great, but that’s how things go sometimes. And it sounds like you’re making a better effort to be here now. I know Inco appreciates it,” she said.

I nodded.

“Well! It’s getting late, so why don’t I start on something for dinner?” Mom said, clapping her hands together before rising from her seat.

“Oh, in that case, I should probably-” Olivia began to mumble.

“You’ll be staying, of course, right Olivia?” Dad asked.

Hell yeah, Dad.

Olivia was clearly taken aback by the request. She glanced towards the door only for a moment, before finally relenting.

“If you don’t mind…”

Dad confirmed that it was no trouble at all.

It was a pretty simple meal, with Mom lamenting that we would have to go shopping this weekend to get everything restocked. She’d gotten out of the vibe of cooking for so long that her sense of how fast regular homecooked meals would burn through our stocks was fried.

But it was a pleasant, hearty stew. 

I could tell Olivia enjoyed it quite a lot, which was frankly, all the seasoning I needed.

Ugh, god. That line was cheesy as hell.

We sat around for a little bit longer making small talk before Olivia finally resolved that she should really be getting home.

I offered to drop her off, but she flatly rejected the notion.

“Dude, that’d be a metro ride, a walk, dropping me off, and then another walk and a metro ride. That’s a total waste… it’s a bad use of your time.”

I didn’t like it, but she wasn’t really wrong, exactly.

“Besides, weren’t you planning to give that fancy new drawing tablet a spin?”

“What’s this about drawing now?” Dad asked.

“Inco’s been getting into drawing. He’s got a ways to go, but he’s picking it up… fairly fast,” Olivia spoke for me, stealing a glance back at me with a smile.

“Oho! Well when you finish your first piece, we’ll be sure to put it up on the fridge,” Dad said with a laugh.

“Woooow. Hear that Inco? It’ll go right on your parent’s fridge!” Olivia carried on with the bit, a snarky, playful leer on her face.

I groaned and covered my eyes with a hand. I hate everyone here.

Dad offered to drive Olivia back home, which she graciously accepted. I think she just didn’t want to have Randy drive out to pick her up. I walked alongside her to the door, and followed her out into the cold.

As Dad was opening up the back of the SUV to put her wheelchair into, we waited, our breaths misting in the cold.

“So.” she said, barely above a whisper.

“So?” I asked, with my own voice.

“See you tomorrow?”

I reached down and grabbed her hand, and took the advantageous position of being leaned down over here to kiss her on the top of her snout., reigniting the red in her scales.

“See yuh tumuhuh,” I whispered.

She snorted and rolled her eyes before breaking away. She hoisted herself into the seat of the car, and Dad took her wheelchair and stored it. Just before I closed the door for her, she stole a final look at me and gave me a final, warming smile, which I was happy to return.

I clicked the door closed and the family car backed out of the driveway as I waved it off. I stood at the edge of the street watching it disappear into the early night air, giving out a long, slow, contented sigh.

We still had work to do. But this felt good. Right. One step at a time, but this had felt like a pretty big one. I didn’t think Mom or Dad would have any issue with Olivia. She’s wonderful after all. But between getting our feelings worked out, us… getting back together. And Mom and Dad clearly taking a shine to Olivia?

Today had gone so much better than I’d expected.

I felt a vibration in my pocket.

Pulling out my phone, I saw a few missed calls and multiple messages from Damien.

Fuck.

I quickly slapped open the messaging app and sure enough, he had sent several worried texts wondering if I knew where Olivia was.

I’d completely forgotten in the heat of everything to tell him.

I quickly started tapping out an explanation. Told him she had come over to my place so we could talk things out. That she was fine and was on her way home now. I also was sure to be very clear about my apology for not passing it along sooner. Tensions had been high, and by the time they weren’t, both Olivia and myself had sort of forgotten about everything else.

A tense moment later, and he replied back.

“Thank god. Mom and Pops were really worried.”

I replied back I’d apologize to them tomorrow for the hassle, but re-emphasized that things were definitely better now.

I was debating if I wanted to make some small talk to try and defuse the tension further when my ears caught to the sound of a car rumbling down the street. Not that uncommon, exactly, but even with what little I knew about cars, this one sounded like it had… ‘meat’ to it. Plus, at this time of night usually traffic had died down.

I started tapping out my reply to Damien when I caught sight of it. A classical muscle car, bright red. Huh, neat.

And it pulled up, definitely going faster than the neighborhood speed limit, right in front of my house.

Uh?

The engine was killed, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then I heard the door click open, it swung out, and the driver stepped out into the cold air.

Motherfucking Mia.

“Oi! Baldie! You and me need to talk.”

Fanfuckingtastic.

I let out a groan and looked back at the front door of my house.

“What, going to run away? Whatever for?” her voice was raised an octave to ‘bubbly princess’ but the sneer on her face conveyed her real emotion.

I tapped out a TTS reply.

“Just contemplating if I should go back inside and get my Dad to come out and shoot you.”

She stopped in her tracks.

“The fuck?” her snarl deepened.

“Why are you here, Mia?” my digital voice asked.

She stood in the cold, staring at me. After a beat, she cocked her hips and crossed her arms, adopting her patented ‘bad girl’ pose.

She was upset, and I was pretty sure steam would be coming out of her nose even if it wasn’t just about freezing.

“The hell did you do to Ben?” she finally asked.

I blinked.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been a blubbering, annoying mess the last two days. He skipped school. Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes himself. And it happened after you slapped me Monday.”

How nice of her to leave out the part where she shoved me to the ground and was going to pummel me.

“We talked.”

“‘Talked’? Look, loser. We’re talking right now and I don’t see anything that’d make me want to start crying except how annoying you are,” she snapped back.

She was like the entire toxic comment section under any given YouSnoot video in real time. Wild.

“Yes. We talked. He visited me in the hospital on my request, and we talked.”

“Well nothing that’s ever come out of your mouth ever sounded intelligent enough to make Benny sad, so what did you SAY?”

She leaned forward to emphasize that last point, but otherwise held her position. Looks like that threat about Dad coming out to ‘settle matters’ was holding for now. Even if it was a lie.

What was her deal, even? She’d insulted Ben almost as much as she insulted me or Olivia. I had a very hard time believing she legitimately cared. Is this like a ‘dragon protects its hoard’ situation? Less about the loss of wealth, and more about the hit to the ego? She had poor impulse control, and while the threat about Dad may be staying her feet now, it wouldn’t hold if I riled her up.

Play it cool.

“I asked him what his ‘deal’ was, and why he kept throwing me and Olivia under the bus. We talked, and he told me about his condition,” my TTS voice explained.

At hearing that, she clicked her tongue and looked away. Ok, so that was as ‘need to know’ as I’d expected. Now I was part of the ‘need to know group’ and that looked to annoy Mia.

“He said that me and him had a lot in common. Partially because of that.”

She snorted derisively.

“I’ve seen more of you than I’ve wanted to this year, baldie, and I don’t see you sharing much of anything with Ben, other than your camera fetish.”

I ignored that one. Trying to bring up that I haven’t been interested in cameras since the formal was useless information and just play into her banter battle. And she had years of experience more than I ever would.

“He also told me about how he ruined his friendship with Olivia.”

She still wasn’t looking at me, but I could see, in the light coming from my house, that that tweaked her eyebrow a little.

“Did he.”

It wasn’t said as a question.

“Yeah. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about his condition, and then he left. He wasn’t in school today.”

“No shit he wasn’t. He’s been at my place, moping and blubbering. He just sits at home with me all day and just…nnnnrrrrrgg!”

Her fists ball up, and I flinched back, expecting her to jump at me, but she snaps around and stomps away. Every step she took was like she’s trying to do as much damage to our driveway as possible. She isn’t going anywhere specific. Just stomping her way around aimlessly until she eventually loses enough steam to compose herself.

She walks up, her breath slightly quickened, and gets within arms reach of me this time.

“Was that it?”

“That’s all we talked about. Why? What’s he been saying to you?”

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS SKINNIE!” she yells.

I take a step back reflexively, but when she doesn’t actually make a move, I sigh.

“What do you want, Mia? You didn’t drive all the way up here just for whatever this has been.”

She snorts a cloud of misted breath into my face, and then pulls back.

“I don’t fucking know what I wanted. Maybe I wanted to pound you into a paste for hurting Ben. Maybe I didn’t. I can do whatever I feel like and fuck you for questioning me,” she spat.

Her arms crossed again, but she didn’t shift her hips. This wasn’t ‘bad girl’ this was just… ‘upset’.

“Look. I’ll talk to Ben when I see him again. We didn’t part on the best terms, but I think we at least understand each other now. I don’t think I said anything hurtful to him. So maybe he just felt bad and came to you for support?”

“Pft. For two days? Ben Fuckin’ McKnight acting like a preteen who lost their crush? Hah.” she snorted, dismissing the idea.

“Why not? The whole thing with Olivia was something he’d been carrying for years. Did he ever tell you about it?”

She froze.

That’s a no? Hm.

“He told me that you were the only person in his life that knew about his condition. His ‘lifeline to normalcy’,” I continued.

No response.

“He told me you’d caught him taking his meds once, and that you didn’t judge him for it. And it meant a lot to him.”

And at hearing that, Mia’s mouth curled into a smile. Not the mean, cruel jagged smile I was used to seeing, but a soft, almost warm one. Her eyes were staring off into space down the street. She was reminiscing.

“That fucking nerd,” she chuckled quietly, “I saw him taking his meds and felt like it was my civic duty to go and mess with him over it.”

What kind of stupid ideas about ‘civic duty’ does this chick have?

I gave her a moment to continue.

“I pushed him into a corner and snagged the bottle. I was expecting something lame like allergy meds or some bullshit. But seeing what it was… I don’t know. I looked down at his dumb blue face, and he just came across like the smallest, saddest, stupidest puppy at the store.”

Honestly, if this had been the first half of the year, I couldn’t have seen it. Ben spent the whole time looking like he was on top of everything. In total control. But thinking back to our talk in the hospital. When the masks came off and he fell apart in front of me?

Yeah. Yeah I could see it.

“Mm,” I muttered.

She gave a dry chuckle.

“You see it too, then. He was like this dumb baby, and I guess some part of my motherly instincts kicked in and I… needed to protect him.”

Raptor Jesus the idea of Mia having motherly instincts was weeeeeird. Please Ben, for the love of all that is good, use protection when you bang this chick. For the good of all future generations do not breed with her.

“So I told him he was mine. And he… looked happy about that. Which was a stupid response. What kind of moron gets their biggest secret outed and forced into a relationship and is actually happy about that?”

“He said you meant the world to him because you treated him normally.”

She was quiet.

“So. You actually like him then.” my digitized voice flatly stated. It wasn’t intended as a question, more of a statement of fact, now.

“Raptor Jesus you’re dense. Obviously, yes.”

“So why do you treat him like shit too?”

“I do NOT,” she snapped her head around, focusing on me again.

“You throw insults at him almost as much as you do me or Olivia,” I countered.

“Pft. Those aren’t insults, baldie,” she said, emphasizing the last, “ those are playful pet names. If I was insulting you? You’d know it.”

Oh, good. She apparently had a ‘secret membership’ level of awful shit she could sling out. Lovely to know what we’d been getting all year was just the trial-tier.

I shook my head.

“So. You love him. He obviously loves you.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that. Move the fuck on, pal.”

“So then what’s your deal? You got a bullying quota you have to meet or they take away your license?”

And that got a legitimate laugh out of her, which was almost unsettling to hear.

“Ahh. I forgot you can actually be kind of funny. If you were like this more often you wouldn’t piss me off so much.”

“At least I have my moments,” I replied.

“Mmm.”.

We stood in silence for another few moments, before Mia finally let out a long sigh.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. This was retarded,” she said, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.

“Like I said. I’ll talk to Ben next time I see him. I was honest about what we talked about,” my digitized voice answered back.

She looked me over with a discerning stare.

“Sure. Well, whatever. I’d say I’d get out of your hair, but you’re fuckin’ bald. So… bye,” she turned to head back to her car.

“Sorry about me hitting you,” I said.

She stopped and turned around, that snarky smile back on her face.

“That? That was a love tap at best, retard. No, what I was going to do to you would’ve been ‘hitting’.”

I frowned deeply at her.

“But I’ll admit,” she said, raising a hand to rub the side of her face where her head had bounced off the floor, “No one’s actually hit back at me in a long time.”

I shrugged. 

“I feel bad about letting it get to that point, but honestly I don’t regret the hit itself. You earned that.”

She walked back over to me and stared directly into my eyes. I stood firm. After a few moments, her eyes shifted and she blew a puff of hot air into my face. I didn’t flinch.

“Hah. Maybe you’re not a total waste of space after all,” she said, with a smirk.

It wasn’t her normal mean-girl smile though. It almost looked like… she was approving of me standing up to her.

She turned an about face, and walked to her car. Just before she climbed in, she placed an elbow on the roof of the car and looked at me again.

“Remember, baldie. Life is fucked. You gotta fight for those that are important to you. Tear down every motherfucker that poses a threat. If you don’t?”

She pauses and stares off past me, considering something, before returning her attention to me.

“Then you’ll lose it.”

I couldn’t parse her tone, but there was a lot of meaning behind that edict.

“I understand. See you later,” I TTS’d.

She laughed.

“No you fuckin’ won’t.”

“What?”

“You and your precious girlfriend are safe from me. They expelled me for jumping you.”

I was struck back.

Oh shit. Mr. Ferris really brought the hammer down. Good on him.

“That school was a hole filled with nothing but bullshit anyways. I’ll be happy to hear about it all falling apart from Benny.”

“What will you do now?” I asked.

“None of your business, baldie.”

Fair enough. It really wasn’t.

“Oh. Last thing? If you see those two bitches again? Tell them I hate them,” she said and ducked back into her car.

She must’ve meant Lunara and Kiara. I don’t think I’d tell them much of anything if I could avoid it.

The engine roared to life, and the tires squealed as she peeled away from the curb and she was gone into the night.

I stared at the spot I last saw the taillights for a moment longer, before letting out a sigh and heading back into the house.

I opened the door and found Mom standing there, phone in hand.

“You OK, sweetie? I had heard her yell and was going to call the cops if I needed to,” she said, concern etched on her face.

“Yeah. It’s good. We sorted it out. I think,” I answered.

She leaned forward and brought me into a gentle hug.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered.

Thanks Mom. I think I’m proud of me too.

—

I awoke, same time as usual. I got up, did my exercises, and changed. Went downstairs. Mom and Dad were gone. However, on the table there was a plate of breakfast she made, covered in foil, with a note.

It was short and sweet, but it wasn’t like the old post it notes I was used to getting, which always just annoyed me. Made me wish she would stop leaving them. 

This one was nice.

‘Morning sweetie. Early meeting so we can be home on-time. Eat up!’

It even had a little smiley face in the corner.

I lifted the foil and the food managed to still be a bit warm. Awesome.

The trip on the metro today was graced by Mr. Ferris, which I was actually happy to note.

“Good morning, Inco. How are you feeling today?”

“Good,” I answered with my digital voice, “I ran into Mia last night.”

His frown appeared immediately.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really. We talked,” I answered.

“Only talked?”

I nodded.

“Ben had been upset, she came to me for why. We talked. I think we reached some sort of understanding with one another, and she left.”

Mr. Ferris looked out the window of the metro, at the buildings passing by, and contemplated that. After a moment, his frown faded and he nodded.

“Good. That is good to hear. Ms. Moretti was always a difficult youth. I am pleased to see you are growing into such a level-headed young man. Her recent actions have seen to it that she was expelled from St. Hammond,” he said.

“I know. She told me,” I confirmed.

That seemed to surprise him slightly.

“I see. In that case, I don’t believe she will be a problem for you in the future. But if there is any sign of trouble, I am always ready to lend my assistance. An ear to listen, or otherwise.”

“Thanks, Mr. Ferris,” I said, flashing him a smile.

He returned it in kind.

The rest of the trip we made pleasant small talk about my new interest in drawing.

School began, as usual.

I met Damien in PE, and he was excited to bug me about how things went with Olivia.

I gave him a general recap, since we didn’t have much time before Solly would enact his vengeance against student-housed muscles. He seemed quite pleased.

“So the next step is to get her to open up to us?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to her about it today. Try and ride the momentum,” I answered.

“Right on, man! I really hope we can go back to normal. I feel terrible about what I said,” his brows pinched, a look of distant pain on his face.

I patted him on the shoulder to reassure him.

“We’ll figure it out.”

The whistle blew, and I took my seat on the bleachers. Today was rope climbing and I definitely didn’t need to slip and land on my head like the last time.

Gym ended, and I moved to AP Art.

Olivia was there, waiting for me as always.

She turned to look at me as I entered, and red dusted her face.

“Hey,” she said, as I sat down.

“Heh,” I returned.

“So apparently they’ve got a new teacher lined up. Supposed to start in a week or so,” she said.

“Oh?”

She nodded.

“I doubt they’ll ever match up to Mr. Iadakan, but… it would be nice to have a teacher that wants to teach. Rather than…” she said, her eyes flicking to the sub, who was scrolling through their phone at the teacher's desk.

“Yeah.”

Class came and went.

As before, I traveled with Olivia to the elevator, she used her key this time. As the elevator rumbled down towards the first floor, she looked to me.

“Hey, go ahead on to lunch. I’ll meet you there,” she said.

“Got somewhere to be?” my digitized voice asked.

“Gotta talk to someone.”

“Not Damien, or Liz?”

She shook her head.

“You got this?” I asked.

I trusted her, but I couldn’t help but be concerned. Things had been difficult enough for her, and the idea of her going off to tackle something herself pained me - even if it wasn’t entirely fair.

She looked me in the eyes again and I saw her. She was sharp, and determined.

She nodded.

I nodded back.

She had this.

We split off and she wheeled herself down the hallway. I watched her go for a moment, and then turned away to head towards the cafeteria.

As was the custom, I collected a generous helping of junkfood. At this point in the year I’m pretty sure I was single-handedly maintaining the upkeep of those vending machines with my purchases.

The treats were deposited, and Damien snatched a soda, as usual before looking where Olivia should have been.

“She not coming?” he asked.

“Said she had to go talk to someone real quick. Didn’t sound like it’d take long,” I answered.

He let out a small sigh of relief.

“So!” he said, pivoting the conversation, “You draw anything yet? Gunna make something huge and have Liz sell it when she opens her business?”

I laughed, and Liz’s head drooped down.

“Damien!”

“What? If his art gets good he’ll need a talented lady like yourself to sell it for him, right? Look at him Liz!”

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, before looking at me.

I gave my best puppy-eyed impression, my sunglasses lowered, exaggeratedly batting my eyelids.

She groaned.

“Not if he keeps that up,” she said.

Her head rose back up to her greens, but she had a smile on her face.

Alas, my art business enterprise destroyed before it ever started.

Me and Damien had a laugh.

Olivia arrived about halfway through lunch. She looked tired, but otherwise not out of sorts. Damien clearly wanted to ask what was up, but he maintained the delicate space the two of them had and left it to me.

“So. Talk go well?” I wrote down on my phone.

I wasn’t sure how private her talk was supposed to be, so it was time for a ‘secret meeting’ of my own. I figured Damien might be a little put out to be left out of it like that, but he just shot me a grin and a thumbs up.

“Mm. I think so,” she said with a small smile.

“Who’d you talk to?”

“Ben,” she answered, ripping open a bag of chips and began munching away.

Ah. Now it made sense.

“Clear the air?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I hadn’t mentioned it before, but I’d confronted him about what he’d been acting like. And he told me about what he did to you,” I wrote.

“Yeah, he mentioned. He found me before school started and said he wanted to talk. I figured… you and me talking helped a lot. So maybe it was time I stopped holding a grudge and at least would hear him out,” she answered, keeping her voice low enough so only I could hear it.

“What’d he say?”

“He apologized for what he did. He told me about why he got so upset with me that he took things into his own hands. He didn’t tell me what his… ‘thing’ was, exactly. But I got the impression it was something he couldn’t really tell people about.”

I nodded.

“He told me what it was, but I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” I noted.

She looked at me, searching my eyes for a moment, before nodding and returning her focus to the snacks.

“Makes sense. Even if we’re together, a promise is a promise. It’d be wrong to break that. But he told me his reasons and… I mean. I’m still mad at him. It was a terrible thing to do and say. But I think I get where he was coming from, at least a little. It was a shit thing to do, but he isnt… evil. He wasn’t TRYING to destroy my life. Even if he did hurt me really bad.”

I reached my hand down and grabbed her free one.

“I apologized too. I should’ve been the better person and sought him out. Explained to him why what he did hurt me. Maybe not immediately, but I’ve had 4 years now. I should’ve been better.”

“Better now than never,” I offered.

“Yeah. And I think it helped. We’re not- we’re not OK, yet. It’ll take a while. But he seemed genuinely sorry about how things had shaken out.”

“Yeah. Yeah he did,” I wrote down.

We sat quietly for a moment as she chomped away at the chips in front of her.

“Give it time. I think it’ll turn out OK,” I offered.

“I know,” she whispered.

“That said, I think we should probably also talk to the Paynes. They’re hurting too.”

She looked at me, and then across the table to Damien, who quickly whipped his head around trying to act like he wasn’t staring.

She snorted a laugh.

“Yeah. They are. Can… you come with me today? I kno- well, I’m pretty sure they’ll accept my apology. But I can do it if you’ve got my back,” she said, her fingers interlacing with mine.

“Every step of the way,” I wrote, my other hand squeezing hers.

She squeezed back.

Lunch ended and Olivia parted with me with a quick peck on the cheek.

I was starting to get used to that, and that alone was a pleasant feeling.

Next was Photography.

And Ben was here.

I took a breath to ready myself and opened the door. Sure enough, the blue parasaur was seated at his regular spot.

“Heh,” I said as I sat down.

“Oh! Inco… hey,” he said.

He looked as well maintained and clean cut as he usually did, but his eyes betrayed a sense of exhaustion.

“Olivia said she talked to you. How do you think it went?” I wrote on my phone.

“I… would like to think it went well. I was truthful with her. About my reasoning. I didn’t tell her in exact terms about… well, you know.”

I nodded.

“But I told her everything else. About how her turning away all that support may have been something she felt as noble, but it just hurt me and others to see. And eventually that turned into resentment. And I tried to force the issue and… well, you already know.”

“Yeah. She told me. She said she didn’t think you two were OK, yet, but was willing to give it time to get better.”

He read my message and looked to me, trying to see if I was being truthful. He seemed to settle on a verdict, and let out a sigh, slumping in his chair slightly.

“She said the same thing, but… I don’t know. It seemed too good to be true. I’ve not been the best person to either of you. My ‘situation’ aside. You two deserved better,” he answered.

“We do. So the best thing you can do now is start making that right,” I noted.

His eye flicked to the message, then back forward, still slumped in the chair.

“You're right. You’re absolutely correct.”

The bell rang.

Class droned.

Class concluded.

As Ben collected his stuff and got ready to leave, I tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention.

“Mia came to my place last night,” I wrote.

He froze.

“She… had said she was ‘going out’, but I didn’t…are you OK?”

For some reason him asking that was funny, given what had happened on monday. But I think he was being genuine this time.

“Yeah. We talked things out.”

“You…did? She didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Probably something you two need to work on,” I retorted.

He looked a bit deflated at that, but it was true.

“Anyway. She wanted to know what I ‘did’ to you. Apparently you skipped classes after our talk.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression frustrated.

“Yes. I did. I… I was worried you wouldn’t keep your promise. And you’d tell someone. And everything would be over for me.”

I wanted to be mad. Ask him if he really thought I’d do something like that. But honestly, Old Inco was enough of a self-centered ass he might have. And I definitely had done very little to date to give Ben a reason to have much faith in me. 

Hopefully now he’d start seeing me in a different light.

“I made a promise, Ben,” I countered.

He nodded.

“So she confronted me. It got a little heated, but we talked it out. She didn’t really tell me all that much, but we seemed to find some kind of level. She almost seemed to respect me a little. which was weird,” I continued.

His eyes widened for a moment, before pausing and thought through something.

“No… no I think that tracks. Mia respects… she respects people that make their own way in life. Against the grain. People like her. She sees the world as pushing her down, and she pushes back. It’s… not a GOOD life philosophy, but you can see the logic there,” he explained.

I nodded. I could. It was childish, but it had reasoning.

“So anyone else that pushes back against what life throws at them, rather than just going with the flow of things is something she respects. You stood up to her and got hurt pushing back against her. Olivia pushed back on everything life threw at her. It makes sense she’d have some level of respect for the two of you.”

That confused me.

“How the hell does Mia ‘respect’ Olivia. Mia bullied and mocked her constantly. Black mailed her for homework.” I wrote. My sneer as I showed the text to Ben set the intended tone well enough.

He shook his head.

“This is going to sound bad, but Mia didn’t care about Olivia like that. After our meeting with Principal Scaler, I talked to her about everything, like I said I would. And she came clean about the… ‘homework’ situation. Mia’s grades are- were. Bad. She was barely passing anything art related. Olivia is incredibly talented, and Mia had found out about the art contest situation.”

So Ben knew about it then. That kind of annoyed me. 

“It wasn’t that it was Olivia. It was that it was someone she could pressure to… ‘help’ with art homework. And it just happened to be Olivia.”

I thought back to when I’d interrupted their little meeting.

Everyone knows you're the best artist in this place. You're just a retard about it.

You have a fan.

Motherfucker.

Ben could see my anger growing and held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m not saying it was OK, Inco. It was wrong, obviously. When she told me about it I made her promise to never do it again. And she agreed! I know that’s not… much. But she stopped. Even at the expense of her grades.”

“And the bitch still knows about the contest. She could lay that one out at ANY time and destroy Olivia’s life,” I angrily jotted down.

“She won’t,” Ben countered.

I started to write my rebuke at the notion before Ben cut me off. He grabbed my shoulder and forced my attention to him.

“Inco. She will not,” his voice was the coldest I’d ever heard.

He let go of my shoulder and waited for a moment to let me settle.

“Mia has her own… history. Her own skeletons. She knows mine. I know hers. When she told me about the contest. And the… ‘homework’, I put two and two together about what she’d done. To you two. So I gave her an ultimatum. She’d drop the issue forever, and do her own work, even if it meant flunking out. If she didn’t, then I’d air her skeletons out.”

He said it with a thousand-yard stare. He wasn’t looking at me at all.

“She got mad. Yelled. Not at me, really. But she realized that she really didn’t have a choice in the matter. When she calmed down, she promised me the issue was settled. Inco.”

He focused his gaze back to me.

“It’s settled. OK?”

I nodded.

“Olivia’s suffered enough because of me. The contest thing won’t come up again.”

“OK.”

Raptor Jesus, seeing Ben get serious was actually spooky. I thought back to what he said about Mia respecting people that push back against the bullshit of life. I wonder if those moments are why Mia respects and loves Ben? That he’s someone that can, if need be, actually put her in her place.

Who knows, maybe she finds it hot.

That chick be crazy.

He sighed, letting his head cool.

“My point was, it wasn’t about Olivia. It was about a talented artist she could use. It’s just that Olivia was who could be used. Far as her outlook, I’m pretty sure Mia always respected Olivia. For pretty much everything. But… Mia’s Mia. She can’t not make comments or banter.”

He frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up.

“Look. She’s gone from school now. So you and Olivia don’t have to deal with that anymore. I’ll keep my promise that nothing will ever hit you two again. We keep the peace, and everyone is happy. That work?”

“That works,” I answered, using the TTS.

He nodded.

“Sorry. I know this got a bit heavy. It’s just… a lot to try and juggle sometimes.”

“Sure. But that’s why you have people around you that you can actually talk to,” I answered.

He paused for a moment and looked at me. His eyes carried a mixture of embarrassment and hope.

“Like you?”

I thought for a moment. All the shit we’d been through through the year so far. Before the formal and since. I looked at the Parasaur in front of me, worrying himself ragged, like many of the other people in my life had.

I thought about our talk, and how we honestly were a lot more similar than either of us had figured. About how I had my parents, the Paynes, Mr. Ferris, Liz and Olivia in my corner.

And how as far as I knew, Ben only had Mia in his.

I gave him a warm, easy smile.

“Yeah, Ben. Like me.”

We split off after that and found my way to history. For better or worse, Ms. Prockling’s banal, unengaging lessons had been at least the singular uniform for my entire year to date. Not that that helped class go by any faster.

Class ended, and I met Olivia out in the hall.

I escorted her out of the school building, and we made the short, but cold trek back to the Paynes’ place.

I hadn’t been here since Christmas. Truthfully, it hadn’t been that long ago, but man it really felt like it. So much had happened in such a short amount of time my sense of gravitas of the recent events in my life were all out of whack.

I was confident that the Paynes would accept her apology. They didn’t hate her. They wanted her to be happy. She didn’t hate them, she wanted them to be happy. But it always feels like such an impossible task to just level with someone that you’ve hurt and open up about it.

I know from experience in the last weeks that it feels like opening up about it feels like a weakness.

I also know from experience in the last weeks that it was anything but.

We reached the door, and she opened it and led me inside. It was quiet. Damien wasn’t home yet, which implied he was off with Liz. Vinny would likely be back soon with Sophia. Randy was likely at work.

It’d be a little bit before all parties were assembled. Olivia ushered me back to her room and we quietly entered.

It was… different from before.

She had cleaned things up, but I could tell she had taken a proverbial hammer to things after the formal had happened. The random sketches and paintings that had adorned the walls were gone. A poster of that giant mech anime she loved had claw marks through it.

Her desk had clear signs of claw scratches all over the surface. The easel she always had was nowhere to be seen. 

Thankfully the one definitively untouched part of her room was the dresser where Gut’s cage was. Upon us entering, he popped his head out of his little hide to inspect who entered his domain.

“Hey Guts, I’m home,” Olivia cooed.

I pressed a finger to the cage which he sniffed at before deciding that was enough.

“Harsh,” I tapped out on my phone.

“He just doesn’t know that we’re good, again,” Olivia said.

Olivia wheeled herself forward, and lifted herself onto her bed.

“So. Probably be a little bit before everyone’s home so we can talk. Want to just hang out here until then?” my digital voice asked.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

I went to sit next to her on the bed, but she pointed a finger at the bean bag chair in the corner. I could see a few tears in it that had been repaired.

I nodded, and took a seat in it, sinking back.

I smelled like paints and her hair. A nostalgic smell. I let the soft embrace of the seat relax me, closing my eyes.

After a moment I heard Olivia shuffling, and a quiet thud. A heartbeat later, and a weight was upon me.

Yup. I knew this is what she wanted.

I opened my eyes to find Olivia laid on top of me, her tail curling around my leg. It was back like when she had done this the first time. She began to rumble. I lifted my hands and placed one at her thigh, and the other on the back of her head.

“Youh duhih fihh,” I whispered into her ear.

“I know, but I’m still nervous. I know it’ll be fine, but the feeling won’t go away,” she whispered back.

I tilted my head and kissed her brow.

“Wuh steh ah a high,” I repeated what was my mantra since I woke from my coma.

I could feel her smile against my chest.

“Yeah. One step at a time.”

After she had settled, I took a moment to fish my phone out and fired a message off to Damien.

“Yo. At your place with Olivia. She wants to talk to everyone,” I wrote.

Sent.

A moment later, my phone dinged.

“Gotcha, bro. Will be there.”

“Mmm?” I felt Olivia hum as she stirred.

“Just letting Damien know what’s up,” I TTS’d.

She nodded.

We stayed like that until we heard the door open, then close.

She startled a bit, and it made me chuckle.

“Sh-shut up. I was zoning out!” she explained.

I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop the smile on my face.

“Uuugggh!” she playfully groaned, before shimmying over to the bed.

Where she acquired and readied her weapon.

“Hehh!” I tried to stop her before getting a pillow to the face.

“The evil is vanquished!” She said, in playful triumph.

I took the pillow and slipped it under my head.

“Migh nuh,” I declared.

She pouted.

“My boyfriend? Stealing my pillow? For shame!”

We both laughed.

She reached out a hand to me and I took it. She pulled and I hoisted myself out of the seat.

The actors would soon all be assembled, so we may as well get ready too.

I opened the door of her room, and entered the living room, and took a seat on the couch. Damien exited his room after tossing his stuff into it and flashed me a thumbs up, which I returned.

A moment later, Olivia shimmied her way out of her room, and met eyes with Damien. His smile faltered only a little, before he gave a small wave.

Olivia returned the awkward gesture.

She hoisted herself up onto my lap, and Damien took post on the other end of the couch.

We sat in a… mostly comfortable silence together. Everyone was on their phones. The ultimate form of modern social interaction.

I’d periodically show something funny to Olivia, or her to me, and we’d share a giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Damien smile as well.

Don’t worry big man, we’ll get it worked out.

It wasn’t much longer before Sophia and Vinny arrived home. She gasped when she saw the three of us sitting on the couch, and I - and after a brief pause, Olivia - gave a little wave.

“H…hey Auntie,” Olivia almost whispered.

“Hello, Olivia,” she replied, with as much compassion as she could muster.

“Olivia wanted to talk to all of us, once pops got home,” Damien said.

Sopiha nodded and made her way to her room to freshen up a little.

Vinny had beat a hasty retreat to his room as soon as he’d laid eyes on Olivia.

Unsurprising, but I could tell that really hurt Olivia to see.

A short time after that, the door opened again, with Randy entering in.

“Brrrr. I’ll tell you what, I can’t wait for it to warm back…up?” his statement trailing off.

We repeated the process we had with Sophia, and Randy gave a polite nod of understanding and went to the kitchen.

We waited quietly as we heard him doing something, and heard dishes clink and clatter. Not much longer after, Randy approached with three mugs.

“I wasn’t sure if you kids wanted any hot cocoa, but I know I did after being outside!” he said with a laugh.

We all nodded and took our cups. 

I almost didn’t even notice when the cup I was given didn’t have “Vinny” on it, but “Inco”.

Randy didn’t say anything when my head whipped up to him, settling only for a knowing wink.

Come on, Inco. Hold it together. The heavy stuff hasn’t even started yet.

Randy checked both his room to collect Sophia, and got Vinny to come out into the living room as well. The siren song of Randy’s home made cocoa too much even for the fearful child.

Everyone took some time to situate themselves. Sophia stood next to Randy’s chair. Vinny on the floor at Randy’s feet, as far from Olivia as he could manage. Damien held his post, and Olivia slid off my lap onto the floor herself.

She took in a steady breath, held it, and exhaled.

I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

Everyone focused on her.

“Auntie. Uncle. Damien. …Vinny,” she addressed each in turn.

Vinny had been trying to avoid eye contact with her and finally looked at her at the sound of his name.

“I hurt you all. A lot. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I didn’t mean it, but I said them anyways. And I hurt all of you a lot. I know I did. I was scared. Things were going downhill for me. For Inco. For everyone. I didn’t know what to do about it, but in my head the only common denominator was me.”

No one said anything, so she continued.

“I know you all care about me. More than I could ever truly repay. You never had to put up with me when I was in my crappy moods or was pointlessly snippy. Or when I would just take the food you guys would make and hide in my room instead of spending time with you. I told myself over and over again that you weren’t my ‘real’ family, so that when - in my head - you inevitably kicked me out, it would hurt less.”

She sniffled.

“But it always hurt. Every time. And I knew you didn’t want to kick me out but when… when Damien said that you were planning to I…”

Sophia and Randy’s hands found one another. Damien’s pained expression was pointed at the floor.

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. It was like I was waiting for one of you to finally break and finally tell me what I was wanting to hear. And you did. And it hurt. I knew it would, but it hurt so much.”

Sophia opened her mouth to say something, but Randy’s other hand laid atop their entwined ones and stopped her.

“So I yelled. I screamed. I took it out on all of you. Whenever one of you tried to do something for me I spat it back in your face,” she said. Her eyes were locked on Vinny.

Vinny himself couldn’t look away either.

“It doesn’t excuse anything. I’m my own person. An adult. I should have known better to do that. I DID know better. And I let the hurt take over and I lashed out at all of you. You never deserved that. You…”

Tears began to finally fall down her face.

“You’re my family. You always were. And I was stupid to even pretend you weren’t.”

I leaned down and placed my forehead onto the top of her head. Olivia quietly cried.

Damien broke the silence first.

“You’re my sister, Olivia. We grew up together. I never saw you as anything less, or anything other than that. But, just like you, I’d let my anger get to the better of me. I know everyone thinks I’m like, the chillest guy in the world. And I try, but I’m definitely not perfect. I screwed up too. You were talking at me and Liz like that and my anger took over and I had that little piece of ammunition.”

He wiped at his eyes.

“I knew it was something you were scared of. We’re not stupid Olivia. Well, maybe I am. But definitely not Mom or Dad. I knew you were scared of hearing it, and I was so mad I used it as a weapon. And I regretted it immediately. It was stupid and awful. I regretted it. And when me and Inco had our talk, and I told him about how I was mad at him for… ‘getting out of everything’. I realized I was really doing my part to hurt everyone too.”

He leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Liz and Inco hold me up as some dude that always knows what to say to make everyone feel better. But I screw up too, you know? There’s times I don’t know what to say, or say the wrong thing. But Inco showed me that talking it out is always better, even if you don’t know what to say.”

Olivia nodded.

“You’re my sister, and I love you Olivia. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about anything. Except maybe boy stuff. You should probably talk to Liz about that,” he said, with a smile.

Through her tears, Olivia snorted out a laugh. At the edges of her mouth, there was a small smile.

Sophia stepped forward and kneeled down to Olivia’s level. 

“Just as Damien said. We love you. We’ve never once regretted taking you in all that time ago. We love having you in our lives and we don’t want to see you go. I’ve tried to be the one to make some of the hard decisions for this family, but I’m not always right either, Olivia. We’re family. And if we work together and talk through our problems, we’ll always make the right decision,” she said, before drawing Olivia into a hug.

Randy stood, walked around behind Olivia, and completed the enclosure, just as they had done back at Summer’s End.

“I’m so happy you’re back, lil’ Ace,” he whispered.

Olivia and Sophia cried together for a few moments. I looked to Damien and Vinny. Damien was looking relieved, but Vinny was looking conflicted.

Damien caught my eyes, and I nodded at Vinny. Fortunately, he caught my meaning, and cleared his throat, which brought the Payne Parentals back into the current moment.

They separated from their hug, and as Sophia and Olivia were drying their eyes, Randy playfully ruffled Olivia’s hair.

“You had something to say to Vinny, too. Right Olivia?” Damien offered.

She nodded.

“Vinny,” she began.

Vinny flinched back, his eyes squinting shut.

“I loved your art.”

Vinny’s eyes slowly opened up, confused. 

“When I was feeling terrible, you went to help clean up my room, like a good little brother should. When I was mad and yelling at everyone, you brought me art you made yourself. Just like a good little brother should,” she said.

She shimmied forward to him. He shied away, but didn’t run.

She slowly, gently, cupped his cheek and turned his head to look her in the eye.

“You never did anything wrong, Vinny. You did everything perfectly. I was being a brat and lashed out at you. I really did love your art, no matter what I said or did when I was hurting.”

His eyes began to water.

“Really, Livy? You did?”

“I really did,” she cooed.

Vinny fell to tears. He pressed into her and started crying, and she wrapped her arms around him tight.

She continued to whisper affirmations he had done well to him while he settled. Once his crying had stopped, he pulled away.

And a huge strand of snot trailed away from the wet spot on her hoodie.

Several gasps.

“Olivia! Your hoodie! Randy get the paper towels!”

Randy jumped to his feet.

Vinny looked horrified. I could tell that the memory of sneezing on Olivia’s dress and ruining it - and the following yelling - flashed back into his head. But before he could freak out, Olivia just shrugged.

She pulled her favorite purple hoodie off and handed it to Vinny. 

“It’s just clothes. It’s not that big of a deal. You should wipe your nose though, Vinny, boogers are kinda gross,” she said with a smile.

Vinny looked at the hoodie in his hands, then back to Olivia, and then he smiled. He wiped his nose with a truly disgusting “snnnnnrkkkkt” sound onto the article of clothing, and Sophia took it over to Randy on the off chance it could be saved.

Vinny hugged her again.

“You’ll tell me if you feel sad again, right?”

“I definitely will, Vinny. You’re my little brother after all,” she answered.

His smile deepend.

“I did have one request, though,” she said to him.

He pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna help me make some macaroni art? We gotta replace the one I messed up, right?” 

Vinny’s face lit up and he ran to his room to collect the necessary supplies.

Damien flashed the two of us the widest grin he could manage, with a double thumbs up for maximum dilo-approval.

Olivia smiled and turned back to me and fired off that summer-day sun smile of hers. I was all too happy to return it.

God damn I love her.

Chapter Text

School advanced in some impossible combination of being a slow dredge of day in, day out, and a whirlwind blur.

Me and Olivia had settled on waiting until I got my neck brace off before we would go to the fountain. There wasn’t any grand reason for that, it just felt like a good final milestone of my recovery, and hers. She had been practicing her craft in other ways to shake off the rust in anticipation.

Many dozens of smaller works. City scapes, grassy fields, islands in the sky, all plucked from her memories or her fantasies and laid out on paper and canvas. Portraits as well, found themselves laid out into the physical world. Portraits of herself, the Paynes, my parents, and especially me.

She loved painting me, which was the most charming and beautiful thing. Not that she didn’t often take ‘artistic liberties’ with my painted proxies to have fun about it. 

I would ‘complain’, of course. It was my duty as the subject and her boyfriend. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The remaining weeks passed, and my final immediate checkup happened, with Dr. Niket being very pleased with my progress. The brace came off for that final time and it felt like a bookending of the most intense time of my life.

There were slight tears at the little ‘ceremony’ of the moment. For anyone else it may have been because they were finally free of the stuffy medical device. But for me it was a sort of proper start for the whole rest of my life.

That was kinda cheesy, but who cares.

We tried to find time to go on dates as regularly as possible before that point. I loved doting on her. We would try out the various restaurants around town and the city proper. Liz had her recommendations, which were usually great. Damien had his recommendations which were usually… ‘interesting’.

We had built up quite the list of what restaurants were our go-to’s for any given occasion, let alone the fun side activities around them. Olivia would give me ‘passing grades’ at each excursion, but the smile on her face and blush on her snout would always belie how happy she really was.

When the big day finally came, me and Olivia made a whole day of it. One of the places Olivia herself had put a pin in and was waiting for a “special occasion” for was this ‘Hibachi Grill’ style restaurant. The name sounded familiar, but apparently it was something she’d always wanted to give a try.

She extolled about it like it was the second coming of Raptor Jesus. How they had this massive hotplate you sat in front of, and a chef would come out and cook the food on it right in front of you. They’d flip their utensils, they’d flip the food, and - if Olivia’s gushing of it was accurate - they’d flip your mind.

So obviously I told her no.

A playful smirk on my face was met with a mostly-playful tail wack to my ribs.

A call later and we were locked in.

Hibachi grill lunch date, and then the fountain.

I’d borrowed a camera from Ben, who was happy to oblige. Olivia was slowly but surely pressuring me to get back into photography over the last weeks, same as she had dove headfirst into getting back into her painting.

I was fully truthful that I would get back on my old craft. I certainly wasn’t lying to her, but I would admit to myself I was putting off buying a new camera a little. It was still a bleak spot in my memory, and one I was slow to broach.

But I had promised, and I’d keep my promise to her.

Therapy was helping with that as well, of course. Mr. Ferris was true to his word and both myself and Olivia - along with several other students that had found themselves emotionally neglected in the wake of Mr. Iadakan’s passing, apparently - were provided service in that regard.

The details aren’t specifically important, but I could tell that it was helping both of us. Our lifeline between each other, and both our families helped immensely, but a little bit of additional professional help was the icing on the cake of our road to betterment.

…that metaphor was kind of lame.

But healing the emotional traumas was a process. And a process that didn’t yet allow me to buy a replacement camera for myself. But I could stomach using Ben’s for a day if it facilitated my true goal.

Helping Olivia keep her promise to Mr. Iadakan.

Lunch was spectacular. I almost got my eyebrows singed off by the chef when he created a little volcano out of an onion ring tower and some cooking oil, but between not actually losing the little hair I had left and Olivia’s gleeful cackles I could look past it.

And the food and show were as spectacular as Olivia had made them out to be.

We ate our fill - well, we probably over-ate. Absolutely stuffed ourselves. But today was a big day, and we’d want our energy.

We navigated our way to that same fountain where we had confessed to one another what felt like a lifetime ago. The year was in the ending phases of winter, but hadn’t yet committed to spring. There wasn’t any snow on the ground, but it was still cool.

I saw to it that Olivia had a thick blanket and a new purple hoodie to keep her warm while she watched me work.

It was slow going, initially. I had to get back the sensation of how to work the camera. But with how important these pictures would be - as well as Olivia’s mixture of earnest encouragement, as well as playful jeering, I found my groove with it again.

I took pictures of everything. The fountain itself. The arcs of water shooting form it. The caustic light bands within the pools themselves. The stones that made up the walls of the fountain itself, as well as the whole of the pathway looping around it. The trees that encircled the landing the fountain was on, as if it was this special, secluded world, protected by a wall of nature. I stood on the edge of the fountain for the extra height and snagged a few shots of the surrounding landscapes.

It took a protracted period of badgering and bribing from her, but I even took a number of shots of Olivia. The first few were awkward at first, bordering on unpleasant with the memories that came to mind. But with each one she coaxed out of me, the easier they became. By the end of the session, I couldn't help but ham it up each time I swung around to take a picture of her, which was met with playful squeals of protest every time.

I wanted to capture it all. Seared into memory and memory card. Leaving nothing out so Olivia could produce her most meaningful piece of work to date.

Our date concluded, Olivia was practically vibrating as I got her home. She was absolutely elated at how well the date went, but I could tell at the end of it her mind was already cast to her work.

I playfully chastised her about neglecting her boyfriend for work. ‘Do you want to end up like my Mom and Dad?’ I said.

‘Whack’ her tail said in response.

Fair enough.

We got inside and she immediately cast off her extra layers and wheeled herself to her room. She was full of fire and passion, and needed to begin turning into the tangible immediately, and I couldn’t possibly be mad.

I hung out with Damien and Vinny for a bit, playing some games with them. I was still a very, very long way away from ‘good’, but true to their plan, I had been playing the console they gave me periodically. I wasn’t good, but at least I kind of put up a fight for them now.

Randy and Sophia were happy to see me as well, of course. We made some small talk, and an offer for me to stay for dinner. But I had to decline. Mom and Dad - and their hardworking employees - had closed a major project out and we were going to all celebrate together.

The Payne parentals were of course gracious about my rejection, and told me to pass along their congratulations.

Before I departed my second home, I found myself to Olivia’s art lair. All the pieces she had been pumping out adorned her walls. It was like in the movies where the crazy person would tape newspaper articles to their walls to show how insane and obsessed they were, only here it was the most beautiful collage of my gator-girl’s artistic passions.

She was already completely zoned in, sketching out ideas onto paper, building the framing and composition out she would eventually layer with paints. She was gone from me, lost to her fugue. I provided my finger to Guts for the sniff-check, which I seemed to pass, and walked over to Olivia, who was laid out in her bean bag chair, sketching.

“I’m headed out, got dinner with my parents,” I said with my TTS.

“Mmhmm.”

“No goodbye to your boyfriend?”

“Mmhmm.”

Harsh.

I stood looking at her desk and saw the quill pen I’d given her for Christmas. It was a centerpiece element of her desk’s layout. I felt a smile tug at my mouth.

She’ll keep it, Mr. Iadakan. It’ll be the best damned painting you’ll have ever seen.

I turned to leave when her tail caught my leg. Unable to advance, I pivoted back to her and leaned down.

“Oh? Somhingh to sah no-” I started to say with a smile, when I was rudely interrupted.

She leaned up her snoot and kissed me.

Clever girl.

“Thanks, Inco. For everything today. Tell your parents I said hi?” she said.

Her eyes were still locked on her work, but her tail was still locked onto me. She was waiting for the affirmation.

“Anehtigh. Andh I wih,” I confirmed.

Her tail released me, and I leaned down for a final kiss on the top of her head before exiting.

It took another week of regular ‘support’ for Olivia’s process. ‘Support’ in this case apparently meaning sit there beside her, occasionally holding her hand, occasionally rubbing her back, and the whole time amusing myself by catching up on the various anime recommendations she’d had for me.

This boyfriend-and-art-muse thing was awesome.

She didn’t let me see the incomplete work, of course. ‘No one sees it before it’s done’.

Damien of course was quick to praise her artistic skills, which were clearly so refined that even SHE didn’t need to see it while making it, which earned him an impressive annoyed groan at the joke.

But the week passed quickly. And sure enough, the day came. She texted me Sunday morning that today would be the day. I arrived early, and found myself at her side faced cross-aways from her to keep the mystique of the painting while I watched shows.

Her brush strokes were impassioned, and for the last 20 minutes or so, it seemed like she barely breathed at all.

But soon enough, I heard her let out a long, slow breath. A pause of quiet. Then a whisper.

“Okay.”

I turned to look at her.

“Okegh?”

She stared at the painting, her eyes whipping across its surface, looking for anything she was displeased with. After a moment of intense scrutiny, no fleck or stroke of paint un-observed, she ceased.

“Mm. Okay. It’s done,” she smiled.

I cheered.

Damien out in the living room also cheered. I don’t think he was sure what he was cheering about, but he joined me right along anyways in the moment.

This guy.

The Paynes were more than happy to take us to Mr. Iadakan’s grave. The painting was let to dry while everyone got ready. Soon we had piled into the car - Sophia and Vinny staying behind on this one - and were off.

It was a quiet trip. Even Damien was quiet. They both knew how much this trip meant. What it meant. That’s why they were great family. We were visiting the grave of our old teacher, our old mentor. And we had Saint Randy and Saint Damien there to usher us along.

We collected ourselves, and Olivia carefully held the covered painting as we crossed the cemetery grounds. We had talked to Mr. Ferris well in advance to know where he had been buried, so finding it was no trouble.

We found it. We found him.

Randy and Damien held back, giving us our space, and Olivia and myself broke off.

We approached the gravestone. Just before it, Olivia slid herself out of her wheelchair while I waited to the side with the covered painting. When she was ready, she took it back. She pulled the cover away from it, and held it. I could finally see the completed product and was stuck by its beauty. It was the fountain. Perfectly represented. I could see all the fine details, as they were seared into my mind even now from the photo session.

The fountain itself. The water shooting from it. The stones and landing. The trees that protected it, and the landscape beyond. It was painted as though it was winter. Whites touched every upward surface. At a first glance, one could even describe the pallor of the tone as ‘cold’. But there was a sunrise on the horizon. And from that new sun cut a band of warm tones across the cold. 

New warmth, thawing the old freeze.

A new beginning with a hope for the future.

It was everything that was her.

She turned the painting around and rested it in front of her, showing the grave her greatest work.

“It’s… it’s done, Mr. Iadakan. It took me a while. And it wasn’t easy. And I stumbled and even fell along the way…” she began, her voice trembling.

“But you were right. You were always right. You could always see what the others couldn’t. Always knew what to say,” she looked at me.

“Always knew how to judge the character of someone, even when they themselves couldn’t see it. You always worked yourself so hard to ensure we would remember your lessons, Mr. Iadakan. And while I almost forgot…”

She sniffled. The tears began to flow. Hers weren’t the only ones.

“I held onto it. With some help,” she said, as she reached her hand up to me.

I knelt down, and clasped it firmly.

“You were right about him, too,” she said.

“Thank you, Mr. Iadakan,” I began my own part, using my text-to-speech voice.

“You saw much more of me than anyone else did. You could cut through the thin veneer of who I thought I was and saw down to the truth. That I was full of myself. That I was naive. And you were undeniably right. But you also saw my potential.”

I paused, and wiped my eyes. It didn’t help much.

“You put me on the right path. Told me everything I needed to hear, but you let me take the steps myself. Same as Olivia. Because you couldn’t walk our path for us. You did everything in your power to prepare us for our journey and set us on it. For a long time I thought you should have done more for us. More words to be said. More lessons to be taught,” I continued, my throat growing tight. 

If I was speaking with my own voice, I don’t think I could have even made out the words anymore.

“But I realized that was wrong. It would have been nice to see you again. Hear you again. But we didn’t need it. You’d given us everything we needed. We just had to find our way,” I conclude.

I squeezed Olivia’s hand. She squeezed back.

Hopefully, wherever Mr. Iadakan was now, he didn’t mind a dull, flat digital voice delivering my heartfelt words.

But knowing him, he didn’t mind at all.

We sat there for some time. The tears passed and a calm, lightened quiet took over. A little longer, and Olivia squeezed my hand once again.

“You good?”

I nodded.

“Yeh.”

She nodded back.

She draped the cover over her painting and I held it as she got back into her wheelchair. I approached his grave one final time and gently laid a memory card against the base of the stone.

Olivia wanted to keep her painting. She should. Mr. Iadakan had wanted to see her paint a fountain, but he would never have wanted to keep it.

But I wanted him to keep the pictures I’d taken for it. Their part was done, but giving it up to Mr. Iadakan was a symbolic gesture to me. His work was helping us become better people. The process and raw elements hammered into shape to become hopefully great people.

I looked at the inscription on the stone.

His teachings will continue on into the new generation

The photos I took were also raw elements, hammered into the final piece that Olivia had produced in the end.

Maybe it was cheesy. Maybe it was lame. Hell, maybe it didn’t even make sense.

But to me, it felt important. 

So, Mr. Iadakan could keep them.

I rose from the gravestone, and returned to Olivia’s side. We held there for a moment longer, each of us quietly saying our final goodbyes, and then we left.

Thank you, Mr. Iadakan.

—

The rest of the school year went by quickly. We attended the prom, and this time I managed to not nearly destroy everything good that was in my life.

If anything, the lead up was almost boring. Which is a dumb thing to think.

I was dressed in a modest, but quite snazzy outfit. Over the last months I sort of fell off on the high fashion scene a little. I still liked looking good, of course. But I also wasn’t spending $600 on socks, or $2000 on jackets.

Liz and Damien looked great, same as they did on the night of the formal. I was happy to overwrite those memories with happier ones, and from what I could tell, they were having a blast.

Olivia was drop-dead gorgeous. She worked with Sophia to home-craft a hell of a dress, with accessories to match. She looked downright like royalty to me.

We feasted. We talked. Ben was of course there, and myself and Olivia spent some time making small talk.

He and Mia were doing decently enough. Apparently she had plans to become a certified mechanic, and maybe eventually open her own business. Ben hadn’t yet settled on what he wanted to do, but he was adamant on sticking to Mia’s side.

He did seem happier, in the last months of the year. Whether it was because friction was down between Mia and the entire student body and faculty, or if he knew he had at least one other confidant in his life in me, he seemed happier.

And even if we would never see eye to eye on everything, that made me happy too.

Olivia got her dance.

Well, dances.

In fact, I think she’d gotten several years worth of dances out of me all in that one night. The second we finished eating, she pulled me to the dance floor and we went to town. Even Liz and Damien had taken a break in the middle, but Olivia’s eyes told me that if we stopped she’d break me.

Fair enough.

The slow dances came, and Olivia had a pleased look in her eye. We began to slow bobbing back and forth, when she slowed.

“So… this is good, right?” she asked, speaking just over the slow melody.

I nodded.

“Yeah, but…”

I knelt down, squeezing the fingers that were in my hands, as our eyes met.

“Whah ish ih?” I asked her.

“I’ve been practicing… just for this.”

“Yeh?”

“Yeah, cause I’ve been thinking about it a whole lot, too. It’s been bothering me that we can’t really dance, you know?”

I shook my head, dismissing her.

“Imgh hahheh wid dis,” I countered.

“This… night has been so much better than I could’ve ever hoped. Especially after how the formal went. You’re here, against all odds. So am I. I don’t want… THIS,” she said looking down at her legs.

I reached out a hand and lifted her face to regain eye contact.

“To get in the way. And you do too, right?”

I shook my head. I didn’t mind it at all. She was different. I was different. But none of that mattered as long as we were together. We could still dance.

The mischievous smirk appeared.

“Trust me, alright? I want to show you something.”

She pulled her hands away from me.

“Wuh?” I said.

“Just… keep your eyes on me, Inco.”

She rolled herself back slightly, before firmly grasping the armrests of her wheelchair. Her whole body strained as she pushed herself up with arm strength alone. I felt my eyes widen as I watched the spectacle before me.

Her tail slipped from the gap in the chair, and planted itself on the floor next to her feet, acting as a crutch. She began pushing herself upright. For a heartbeat she faltered, and I took half a step forward, but she shot a hand in front of her.

Don't you dare, it said.

I stood still as a statue. I didn’t dare even blink.

She slowly but surely pushed herself upright with tail power alone, her arms angled out away from her to maintain balance. When she finally was fully upright, she smiled. It was bashful, but expectant.

She raised her hand to me, waiting.

I waited only a moment, before taking it, and slipping my other hand to her waist. As the music began its crescendo, I weaved with her. Her tail acting as a leg, while she leaned heavily into me as a brace.

We swayed and weaved to the music, and in a moment of mischief of my own, I pulled her leading arm above her head. She saw were I was going, and took the opportunity to go into a twirl. Her tail almost wasn’t fast enough to catch herself, but she stuck the landing, collapsing back against me.

It was a lot more work than a normal dance was. Sweat beading on both of our faces, both of us breathing heavily. 

As the song died down, Damien - the saint that he was - was already at the ready with her wheelchair. The biggest smile I’d ever seen was on his face.

She slipped her tail through the chair’s gap and in that moment of balance shifting I fell forward, pressing her into her chair. We both couldn’t help but laugh. So many emotions were warring within both of us, but it was impossible to say we had ever been happier.

I laughed, and took the moment to remove my sunglasses, wiping the joyful years from my eyes.

I’m exhausted. I’m thrilled.

She really went that far. For us.

The short remaining time at prom went by quickly. The limo we rented dropped Liz and Damien off at the Paynes first. Then took me and Olivia to my place. My whole body ached, but it had been one of the most fulfilling nights of my life. And looking at the steady smile on her face, Olivia agreed.

I gently pushed her into my house, her tail quivering as it was wrapped around my wrist. She had pushed it hard, and was paying for it now. I don’t think she regretted it at all. The lights were off.

I wheeled us into the kitchen to find a note on the kitchen island. Mom and Dad took the opportunity of prom night to have a date night of their own. Hell yeah, Mom and Dad, you guys deserve a special night too.

I wheeled her over towards the couch and grabbed the bag of her PJs and toiletries. As I reached over to hand it to her, she reached out and clasped my hand. Confused, I looked to her face, and she was as red as a tomato.

Her eyes met mine, and it was a similar look of expectation and mischief she had before that dance. Her eyes held mine for a moment, and then flicked to focus behind me. I turned, my eyes tracing to what she was looking at, finding the stairs.

Which led up to my room.

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

I turned back to her, and she had both arms extended in her “carry me” pose.

I was tired, but I think I could oblige.

—

I was nervous.

Ok, nervous was a hilarious understatement. I was an emotional wreck, held together by willpower alone.

I wheeled her down the streets of the city, enjoying the sights. Well, trying to. Olivia was having a blast as far as I could tell. I was working on keeping my composure. I had a special plan today.

I honestly already knew what the answer would be. How it would go. But that didn’t remove the sensation of anticipation. We’d just finished a lovely brunch with Liz and Damien, getting caught up.

Liz’s business had only been open for a few months, and already she was practically swimming in work. And she never looked happier. To say she was in her element would be an understatement on par with my one from earlier.

Damien, for his part was ‘going with the flow’. After graduation he hadn’t any concrete plans, so he was pretty much just looking for any sort of job or work that piqued his interest. Liz would give offers and suggestions, but she was still unable to quell the wiggly, ethereal existence that was Damien’s vibe.

To his credit though, when he wasn’t talking about trying to land a job as a sign twirler, or a professional car washer, he was helping Liz at her job. That did a lot to quiet her grievances about her boyfriend’s career interests, at least for now.

I’d opted to go to college. My grades were solid, but nothing outstanding. But I got a very nice letter of recommendation from Principal Scaler which did a lot to get my foot in the door of a local college in Volcaldera Bluffs. 

Mom and Dad were more than happy to cover the tuition costs.

Olivia was painting up a storm. She did special commission work as well as provide stock to Liz for her business. After all everyone had been through, the fight they had at that lunch date about Olivia trying to ‘ride the coattails’ of her friends wasn’t even a distant memory. It was gone and buried.

Liz, of course, was also quite benefitted in having an immediate, steady stock for her work, which looked good on her business. It meant a steady income for both so everyone won. It also meant that Liz and Olivia were inclined to actually spend more time 1 on 1, meeting for brunches and the like on the regular for business, and whatever they were before, they were fast friends now.

It warmed me greatly to see.

We were doing well.

But I was a nervous wreck.

Just before we departed from Damien and Liz, Damien had shot me a look. I knew what it meant and gave him a nod so subtle only he saw it. I gave a subtle tap at my pocket, which was so subtle only he saw it.

Pleased, he waved us off and we departed.

I had a special destination in mind today, and Olivia was none the wiser.

We walked the streets of town, me ‘randomly’ deciding one way or another. My plan wasn’t perfect, however, and soon Olivia clued to the fact my ‘random’ wandering wasn’t random at all.

Not all too long after that, she surmised where we were going.

We reached the fountain.

She snorted with a smile at my silly romantic gesture. This fountain held a lot of meaning for the both of us, and it was nice to visit it again. We hadn’t been back since we took the pictures for her painting.

She hoisted herself onto the lip of the fountain, and sat, enjoying the late summer warmth. Her eyes closed, she lost herself in the memories of the moment. If I didn’t have a plan to enact, I’m sure I would’ve let myself succumb to the fugue as well. 

I stand silently next to her, letting her navigate those memories. Most of them pleasant. Finally, I felt her clawed hand take hold of my own. I squeezed my hand, she squeezed back.

“Welgom becgh,” I whispered.

She rolled her eyes at me, but her hand squeezed harder. I slipped my phone out of my pocket.

“It feels like a lifetime ago, but it really wasn’t that far back, was it?” my digital voice proxy asked.

“Yeah. But I still remember it all. Right down to our lousy wishes.”

“I think they were good. They came true, even if it took a while,” I countered.

She stared at the fountain.

“Yeah, they did. We were so dumb back then. My trying to climb up here in the snow, and then everything afterwards. How it all almost fell apart,” she said, her hand tightening around mine.

I used my thumb to gently massage the back of her hand, which calmed her.

“But we managed. We saved each other, and now we’re here,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said with a warm smile.

We waited in a comfortable silence for a time, before she broke it.

“I think… I want to teach. I talked to Ms. Scaler the other day. I don’t know if it’d be a full time thing or whatever. But… Mr. Iadakan’s lessons need to be passed down. And I want to do that,” she said.

“I think you’d be perfect at it,” I told her.

A flush of red on her cheeks.

“We’ve both crammed a lot of learning into a single short year. It’d be good to pass that learning along. Be there for kids going through their troubles, like we had,” I continued.

“Yeah…” she said, holding an agreeable smile.

“Want to make another wish? For everything to come next to go well?” I asked.

She thought about it, then nodded.

“Yeah. Our last ones were pretty lucky. Why not try for two?”

I smiled and nodded.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a quarter.

“Just one?” she said, leveling an raised eyebrow at me.

“I’m a poor destitute college student. Cut me some slack,” I joked.

She snorted a laugh before playfully slapping my back with her tail.

“What if we both flip it and wish?” she offered.

“Like sharing?” I asked.

“Yeah, Like sharing.”

“Together, then,” I said.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and Olivia took my hand once more. The coin is balanced on my finger, and her thumb ready to flick it.

“On three?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Two,” she counted.

“One!”

Awkwardness of the maneuver aside, she manages to flick the coin, arcing cleanly before it blooped into the water of the fountain.

I make my wish, curling my hand around hers, though it’s more of a prayer or a hope.

“Well?” she said after a moment.

“Hm?”

“What’d you wish for. You look all tense.”

“You firsht,” I say.

Olivia’s hand leaves mine and she clenches her fingers together in her lap.

“To be as good a teacher as he was, and to be able to bring out the most in those around me,” she said with a smile, staring ahead.

“You did iht wid me,” I offered.

“You’re making me blush, shut it! So,” she said, looking back to me, “What was yours?”

“Meh?”

I slip my hand into my pocket. Her eyebrow raises in that cute discerning look she always gives.

I slip down next to her, taking a knee.

Already the wheels are turning in her head. I don’t dare blink. I want to burn this memory into my brain for the rest of my life.

Her eyes began to widen. Those beautiful silver pools of hope and dream.

I pull out a small container from my pocket, and in one smooth motion, present it to her, pulling back the lid to expose a ring.

Her hands snap up to her mouth. She doesn’t even seem to be breathing. I give her a sheepish smile. I already know what the answer would be, but I want to hear it. I want to hear her say it.

She screams and tackles me with all the force of a gator attacking a meal at the watering hole. Her arms slip around my neck and I’m thrown to the ground. Luckily, her arms prevented my head from hitting the ground and instead she was now laying on top of me, squeezing me tightly.

“So?” I whisper into her ear.

“Yes! Yes…” she whispered back.

—

I was nervous.

Ok, nervous was a hilarious understatement. I was an emotional wreck, held together by willpower alone.

I stood there at the altar. I legitimately never anticipated this happening in my lifetime. Soon my fiance, the love of my life, was going to be wheeling herself down that aisle. It was less so that there were butterflies in my stomach so much as I had a whole swarm of insects going ham in there like it was the last days of summer.

I looked around the large hall as the traditional wedding music played on the nearby piano.

I was dressed in my best suit, custom tailored to perfection. I looked great. I turned my head, and to my side was Damien, as the best man, and man could he rock a suit too. Whenever he and Liz finally got hitched he was going to look great up here.

And I knew I’d be where he is now for his wedding.

Liz had been slightly disappointed that me and Olivia had beaten her and Damien to the punch, but I think she understood. Our life had been such an impossible rollercoaster our senior year that waiting too long felt like an insult to the woman of my dreams.

Liz, of course, was waiting on the other side, acting as the maid of honor. She dolled up appropriately too, and Damien and her were constantly stealing looks at one another. I made a mental note to give Damien a hard time about this later.

Vinny had done a great job as our ring bearer. The little guy cleaned up pretty well too, though somehow even though he had a tailored suit as well, his sleeves were extended past his hands. I chalked it up to a bizarre latent superpower.

I looked to the seats.

Mom was barely holding herself together as joyful tears flowed down her face. Dad just held a confident, happy smile.

To think, about a year and a half ago, I’d have never figured I’d be getting married to anyone, let alone having my parents in attendance. It was almost dreamlike in how things turned around for them. And me. It wasn’t perfect. But I was more than happy.

On the other side, sat the Paynes. Randy likewise held that knowing, Dad-like smile, while Sophia managed to be more composed than my mom. They had likewise done an almost impossible amount for me. More than I could ever dream to repay.

Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try though.

Vinny was seated next to them and honestly was behaving quite well. Probably had to do with the fact they hadn’t given him any sugar in the last 24 hours, but even so, I appreciate the reservation little man.

Mr. Ferris was seated a little further back, but when our eyes connected he gave me a pleased nod. I subtly returned it.

It wasn’t a big ceremony with a lot of people. But it didn’t need to be. The most important people in my life were here, save an exception.

The music shifted, and with it, my nerves.

Here we go.

The doors at the end of the carpet opened, and there she was. A gorgeous dress, tastefully tweaked to flow well with her wheelchair. The veil obscured her eyes to me, but her tail was stiff. She was nervous as hell, too.

Her dad held out his arm, and she took it.

I watched as he walked her down the aisle. Every heartbeat she drew closer to me. Soon, they were here.

Her dad led her into position, took a step back and looked at me.

We’d met at this last year’s Summer’s End celebration for the first time. He was a tall, broad man of a baryonyx. His hair a paler shade than Olivia’s but the resemblance was impossible to miss.

He was a surprisingly levelheaded person, given how much of a firebrand his daughter could be. We hit it off easily enough and he had expressed how happy he was to see his daughter so full of life and passion.

It was part of the reason why I’d felt like I was in the clear to ask her to marry me shortly afterwards.

And now here he was, staring at me, as he just gave his daughter away. He gave me one last cursory glance and then smiled warmly. He left to take his seat.

His daughter was no longer his alone.

The ceremony continued on with the opening words by the officiant. We had agreed on a pretty straightforward ceremony, without a lot of extra fluff or yapping. We do the little procession, we say our vows, and we get on over to the reception to absolutely DESTROY the buffet. 

Seriously, when I’d passed along how many carnivores would be attending the caterer rep looked like he was going to have to prepare for a trench war.

However, unbeknownst to Olivia, I had an evil, secret plan.

I kneeled down to Olivia and gently lifted her veil. Her silver eyes that I loved so much met mine. Red dusted the scales of her face, and a happy, if shy smile tugged at her mouth.

I held myself at her level, maintaining eye contact.

The officiant asked me if I would, through all the challenges and moments life would have, hold Olivia as my wife.

“I do,” I managed with my own voice.

The officiant turned to Olivia. It was her turn. I could tell her breathing quickened.

“Now to the bride. Given the circumstances of the groom, he has requested that the bride read the vow,” the officiant said.

Olivia's eyes widened.

I smiled.

I reached into my suit jacket pocket and produced a folded paper. I’d spent the last weeks thinking about the words I wanted for this. Everything that made up me. Made up us. That led us here.

I handed her the paper, and she took it, clasping it so gently as if she was afraid it would turn to dust at the slightest disturbance.

Here’s to you, babe.

She unfolded the paper, and her eyes began to run across the page. She read it out loud on my behalf. I’d thought of trying it myself, but as I was still trying to figure out the whole ‘speaking thing’ again, I didn’t want to mar such a precious moment.

I know she’d tell me she wouldn’t mind, about how I wouldn’t mind her being in the wheelchair and how that was the same. And she would be right. But I could be a little selfish on occasion too. I think that was OK in moments like this.

“Olivia,” she read for me.

“When I was younger, I used to think about love, from time to time. About when it would happen, and the whys. But it was never a major focus for me, because we never settled down. Always kept myself running around, before we’d leave again. I wanted to stay somewhere forever. Hand in hand with someone precious to me,” she continued.

“I really didn’t know that much about love. Until I met a girl. Her scales were green, and she didn’t do much walking. But she became my world,” she read, her eyes beginning to water.

“I had busied myself with expensive things, fashionable clothes and the busywork of photography. I really didn’t know much about painting. Until I met a girl. I wanted to paint with her, as she taught me all about it.”

I wanted to look around the room to see the reactions, but I couldn’t look away from her. Olivia’s eyes flicked from the page to mine, then back to the page to continue.

“We had our ups and downs. Our happiness and our fights. And through that we came out stronger. I showed her how to live, and she showed me the same. I didn’t know that much about loving, until I met you, Olivia. Would you do me the greatest honor, and be my wife?”

Her voice choked at the end, as she let the paper fall into her lap. A few joyful tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I do,” she said, wiping at her eyes, before meeting my gaze.

Damien handed over the rings. We slipped the rings onto each other's fingers. A matched set. Silver, with bands of gold. Each having a small, quill pen etched upon them.

“I now declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant declared.

I leaned in and kissed that gator.

The reception went great. Excellent food, excellent company. Dances. Olivia even briefly took to her tail again - this time with a decorative bracing slip for her tail that was matched to her wedding dress - to do the first dance with me, before giving a dance to her father.

He didn’t cry, but I think he came close.

When it came time to throw the bouquet, everyone in the hall knew what was about to happen. Except, apparently, a singular dilo-boy.

Olivia looked over her shoulder at the only bridesmaid in attendance, her maid of honor. She then chucked it over her shoulder, very nearly all the way up into the ceiling. Just in case anyone had the bright idea to make a grab at it.

Liz’s neck shot to the top and she snagged the flower arrangement up in her snout handily.

Everyone let out a grand cheer, including Damien until he noticed every single person in attendance was staring at him. Liz’s head lowered down, depositing the bouquet into her hands, and then we watched as her head drifted next to his and she whispered something into his ear. His face lit a bright red, and his eyes went wide.

Buckle up, my man. The next one is yours, I thought with a smile.

After the reception and everyone went their separate ways, I drove myself and Olivia home. She was happy, and exhausted. I remembered back at the wedding, with Mr. Iadakan’s friend. How he said that while it was the happiest day of his life, he was also tiring as hell. I thought he’d been complaining a lot for someone that was supposed to be the happiest man in the world at the time.

But now? I got it.

I was happy. But man was I also tired.

We did our normal routine of exiting the car, and I wheeled Olivia into our apartment complex. We navigated the halls and elevator and found our way to our room. I opened the door for her and she smiled as she entered.

I went to pull at my necktie, but Olivia reached up her hand and stopped me.

I looked back at her, confused.

“You don’t get to unwrap my present for me,” she said, her eyes intense and full of fire.

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

That’s hot.

“Well, maybe the present can wait until we get to our room? I noted down on my phone for her.

She huffed, and then raised her arms. Her classic “carry me pose”.

I dropped my phone onto the living room table, and reached down, and slid my hands under her tail, eliciting a small gasp from her as I lifted her and pressed her to my body. Her thighs squeezed to my hips to ensure we were locked together. 

We were pressed nose to nose, our eyes locked.We held our gaze for a moment, but I broke it long enough to orient us to point her back down the hall towards the bedroom.

Then, I leaned in, and kissed her neck.

She let out a moan, and all restraint was lost.

—

I stood in the living room of the Paynes’ place. Staring wistfully at the kitchen. There, Mom and Sophia were making small talk with Liz, working on some parts of the Summer’s End party meal.

Standard girl talk stuff, I’d wagered.

I turned my head towards the back door. I could see Randy and Olivia’s Dad giving my own father a crash course in proper grill mastering. He looked concerned, and he definitely had sauces and seasonings all over his hands, but he looked like he was having a blast.

Mr. Ferris stood on the other side of the grill, probably giving Dad encouraging words as he was flipping the obscene hoard of meats Randy had brought.

I could see Damien and Vinny viciously enacting their favorite battles from Rock Ring with dart guns all over the backyard. I think I even recognized a few of the cutscenes they were pantomiming out.

Guess all that practice gaming was actually starting to pay off - if not in the way we’d anticipated.

My mind sampled the scene in front of me, and I harkened back to a distant memory. One in which I had imagined a scenario just like this. Back then it had been a distant, forlorn hope. My mind having written it off as fantasy never to be. But now? 

It was just my life.

And I loved it.

“-nco!” a voice caught my attention.

I looked back down to the phone in my hand, Ben’s concerned face on the screen of the video call.

“Are you alright? You were spacing out again,” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Fine, Bhen,” I answered him.

I’d been practicing my speaking a lot lately. Partially due to just there being times that talking was required, like a phone call. And partially because of my intended career path I’d finally settled on.

I’d wanted to get good enough to say my vows for Olivia, but the process of getting control of my speech was ever an ongoing one, and it took me quite a while longer before I could really start getting a handle on it.

I don’t remember who it was -  maybe it was Vinny. Kid was always almost terrifyingly smart when he could sit still for 5 seconds - had made an offhand comment about ‘why not learn how to do like the ventriloquism thing’. 

Which sounds stupid at first, but when you think about it, the whole idea of ventriloquism was talking without moving your face or jaw.

The little bugger was a lifesaver twice over now. Since then, I practiced rigorously and my speech got better. Well below perfect, but much better. Good enough a start.

I could hold phone conversations for the most part, like I was doing now. Well, other than the spacing out thing. But I had that issue well before the head trauma.

“So, you said you figured out what you wanted to do for a career?” he refocused the conversation.

“Mhm. Talgked with Olibia about it. She likegd the ideah.”

“So, what did you settle on?

“Studengt Counshilorh,” I answered.

Bens eyes lit up.

“Oh! Oh, Inco that’s great! I daresay few people know more about how important good guidance is than yourself and Olivia!”

I nodded.

“Id’s importahnt no ongs gotta deal wit whad we went tru againh,” I said, with as much conviction as I could.

“It’s a lot of schooling, but I know you, man. You’ll do great,” Ben said, providing his support.

“How ‘bout yu?” I asked.

“Haven’t completely decided yet. I took time off from school. Senior year was… a difficult one, as you know. I plan to go to college, probably something around here. But I haven’t settled on anything concrete y-”

Ben was cut off by a voice in the background that grew louder as its speaker approached.

“Bennie-boo! You’re still talking on the phone? Come on, you said we’d leave in 5 minutes 10 minutes ago!”

“Sorry, Mia! It’s just that-”

“Oh shit, it’s baldie!” Mia said, finally coming into frame.

I could see her throw her arm around Ben’s shoulders and smoosh herself into view, pressing her face against his to fit onto the screen.

“Hey, Miah,” I greeted.

“Sup’. You still talking funny?” she asked.

A grin was on her face, though it wasn’t quite as contemptuous as her bullying grin was back in school.

“Jugst for youh, Mia,” I said, with a smirk and a shake of my head.

She laughed.

“Good. Keeping me entertained keeps you alive, you know the score,” she fired back.

She still kinda sucked, but true to Ben’s word, we managed to keep a peace going. I had no problems with that, even if moments like this were kind of awkward. It was better than the alternative.

“Now then. Sorry to interrupt your call with your boyfriend, but we need to leave,” she said, before planting the end of her nuzzle on his snout in an aggressive, ‘reassert dominance’ type of kiss.

I rolled my eyes.

We’re playing hardball? Alright, check it bitch.

“Oh, beforgh you go,” I prompted, catching Mia’s attention.

She huffed in slight annoyance.

“What?”

“So whegn you ad Benh have a kidh. Will dey callgh you ‘Momma Mia’?” I asked.

I wicked grin spread across my face as I watched her brain stop for a moment. Ben’s eyes snapped to full width and for a moment, there was nothing.

And then, sealing his own doom, Ben let out a snort of a laugh. He stopped it almost instantly, but alas, Ben my man, not instantly enough.

“Oooooh you bald fucker! Next time I see you I’m gunna-!” she started roaring, though it didn’t have the same savage energy of our fight in the hallway.

“Mia-! No please, my pho-” Ben was shouting.

I watched as she and Ben grappled for the device before it clearly slipped from his grasp and the call went dead.

Oof. Sorry about that Ben. I’ll pay for a replacement if need be.

I pocketed my phone and wandered outside.

The grill smelled amazing. Damien clearly had thought the same, as he had wandered over to partake in the smells. And the conversation between the dads and Mr. Ferris. But probably mostly the smells.

I looked to the pool. Vinny was trying to fire darts into the pool, where Olivia was currently swimming. Each barrage of his was met by a brutal splash of water, followed by a yell and laughter.

Vinny was absolutely losing the battle.

I walked over to him and ruffled his hair before he swatted my hand away.

“Inky! Stop it!”

I laughed.

“I wanded to talgh to Olibia. Thinkgh you can annoy Damiengh for a bit?” I asked him.

A wicked grin spread across his face.

“Absolutely!”

Off he went. A heartbeat later Damien yelled out another line from Rock Ring and the battle was on again.

I leaned down low and shimmied my way up to the wall of the pool. I slowly raised myself up to look over the lip of the pool to find Olivia doing her weird ‘dead gator float’ as she soaked up the sun.

I couldn’t help myself.

“Croighy! Weh gadda loibve wan heah!” I said in a miserly, butchered accent, loud enough for Olivia to hear it.

Her eyes snapped open and she whipped her tail violently down into the water in front of me, expertly aiming the splash directly into my face. Fortunately my sunglasses bore the brunt of the brutal attack.

“Okahy, Okahy!” I chuckled as I raised my hands in surrender, standing up and leaning over the lip of the pool.

She bore a pleased smirk on her face. She knew she won that battle too.

“Howgh are mah two lovbly ladies?” I asked her.

Olivia rolled her eyes, but swerved her body with instinctual precision to slide through the water with terrifying grace, pulling up alongside the edge of the pool before rolling over onto her back.

Her large belly apparent, I reached down and put my hand on it.

“Don’t make it weird,” she said.

I reached down and kissed her on her snoot.

“No.”

She groaned, before rolling over and slipping away, parting from me with a slash of her tail, leaving be blasted with another torrent of water.

I, and everyone else out in the yard laughed.

I took off my sunglasses and wiped my face, before placing them again. I looked at my wife as she had returned to idly bobbing, submerged 2/3rds of the way into the water. Unlike before, however, her eyes were open. Those glorious silver pools. Our eyes met, and she couldn’t help but smile.

In completely predictable and entirely unavoidable fashion, we savaged our holiday feast. Meats piled high, leafy greens for days. No one would be left out of the horrific food crimes we enacted.

As the tableware was cleared away, and everyone was idling about, the scene felt familiar to me, but… expanded.

I knew what I had to do.

I gathered everyone’s attention, and pulled out my camera. They knew where I was going with it.

I set up the tripod, positioned everything. Framing, settings, lighting, all good. I’d spent the last months re-acquainting myself with my old craft. And Olivia had been right to push me to get back into it. 

I don’t regret picking up the stylus and learning how to draw - I was actually halfway decent now! I even had a few pieces of art on my parent’s fridge! - but I didn’t realize I’d felt like I was lacking something creatively until I picked up a new camera and Olivia and I took it for a spin on a date.

She had been right to push me back to photography, just as I had been right to push her back to painting.

With the camera configured, and the remote in my hand, I found myself in position at the edge of the pool, with Olivia on my left, and Damien to the right, just as before. I wasn’t balanced precariously on the edge of the pool, so no sudden swimming for me today, but that was fine.

I pressed the remote, and the camera fired off a multitude of pictures.

I looked at my glorious gator wife beside me.

She flashed me a smile.

A summer-warm smile that outshone the heat of Summer’s End.

I returned it.

She was my world.