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“A…pajama party?” Trey echoed the words Rook had spoken right back at him, slow and cautious as if he might’ve misheard.
“Oui,” Rook confirmed, gesturing in the air with hands full of cut crystalblooms. “A five-day celebration across spring break, housed within my family villa in the Land of Sunshine. Is it not the perfect way to commemorate the friendships we’ve made at NRC before we split off from our peers?” The flowers bobbed against the lab coat as he pressed his fingers to his chest dramatically. “‘But wait,’ you may ask, ‘wouldn’t an event such as this be more appropriate closer to the end of our year?’”
“Uh…” Thankfully, Trey had the foresight to remove his gardening gloves the minute Rook said more than three words, sparing himself from the fate of getting dirt clogged in his hair upon absentmindedly scratching his temple. He probably could’ve just left his vaguely thoughtful noise to hang in the air on its own, but from the way Rook eyed him, he figured he’d throw a bone. “I guess? If it really is meant to be a farewell party of sorts for us third years, it’d make more sense to hold it later.”
Sure enough, the prompt brought a dramatic twinkle to Rook’s eye, and he threw his hands out wide. “This is true! However, between exams and preparations to hand down the title of Housewarden for those on the throne, the end of our school year is packed full. Few people would be available to come. Thus, during the week-long break in which everyone is granted time off is most appealing.”
“Makes sense. Why a ‘pajama party,’ though?”
Rook gasped as though scorned, covering his mouth with both flower-filled fists. “My dear Chevalier des Roses, do you not understand? Our esteemed school requires uniforms, with a strict dress-code filling in any gaps, and as such casual attire outside of the dormitory is a rarity. What could possibly be more exciting than the opportunity to witness everyone at their most relaxed, their most unguarded, basking in lounge wear?”
Yeah, Trey had nothing he could say to that. Nor did he want to, frankly. One bone was enough.
Though, honestly, the idea was intriguing. Not the whole “sitting around in your pajamas with your schoolmates” part, but the prospect of a beach villa vacation during spring break. He’d never actually been to the Land of Sunshine, either. Could be fascinating.
But then Rook just HAD to go and throw in “You know, if I recall correctly, there’s a bakery specializing in local delicacies situated in the town there, not too terribly far from the villa. A fifteen minute jaunt, at most,” to really seal the deal. And Trey had been halfway turning back to his strawberries, ready to say he would give it some thought, only to freeze solid and slowly reverse his motions. When he met Rook's eye again, Trey found him squinting from the force of his smirk.
“A pajama party?” Riddle echoed in an eerily identical manner to how Trey had done earlier that day. “Are we not too old for such things?”
Trey nodded. “That’s what Rook’s calling it, anyway. From what I can gather though, it sounds just like a regular get-together for some of the third years. Except it’s at a beach villa. Which his family apparently owns multiple of.” Each word from his mouth sounded more and more bewildered as each detail only just then clicked in his mind.
“Multiple?! Just how rich is Rook’s family?!” Cater balked from where he leaned against the lounge sofa’s armrest, dropping his phone to look at Trey.
“I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but that guy just keeps managing to outdo himself,” Trey chuckled. “Anyway, he said we could bring a plus-one if we wanted, so I figured I’d offer.”
Despite the unorthodox context, there was no mistaking the flicker in Riddle’s eyes, a spark that only grew and grew upon being granted a further explanation until his irises all but gleamed in rapt interest. A beacon that only shone whenever Riddle grew excited, even if he managed to remain outwardly composed otherwise. Trey could never truly resist it, drawn like a moth to the light of a flame.
But a thought seemed to occur to Riddle, interrupting the image being woven in his head.
“You said it was during spring break?” he asked. Trey nodded again, and all at once, as though a frigid wind swept through the lounge, the candle lighting Riddle’s eyes sputtered and went out. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it. My mother requires me to return home during that time, so you’ll have to find another plus-one.”
“Oh.” Trey had to inhale slowly through his nose to stop his face from falling too far. “That’s too bad.”
Cater sat up from his half-sprawl now that the tone of the conversation had shifted. “Can’t you just like, I dunno, ask her to let you stay at school this time? Tell her you wanna take some extracurricular courses over the break. Some of them are at-your-pace too instead of scheduled classes, so with your skillz you can totally party it up all week and still pop out a perfect score,” he offered.
Riddle promptly fixed Cater with a glare hot enough to melt the couch’s metal frame behind him. “I am not going to lie to my mother, Cater!”
Immediately, both of Cater’s hands flew up in defense. “Just spitballing ideas! Besides, it’s not lying if you actually do complete the courses.”
“It’s alright,” Trey soothed. “We’ll bring you something nice back as a treat.”
“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” Riddle offered a simper, and then his head angled up to the clock on the wall behind Trey. “Ah, it’s almost four. Please excuse me.”
The two waved as Riddle dipped his head and promptly left the lounge. As soon as Riddle’s footsteps faded down the hall, Trey heaved a mighty sigh.
It wasn’t the end of the world, not by a long shot, and it wasn’t the first time Riddle was forced to turn down an invitation either, but something in the way his face fell just then, the light of curiosity fizzling out into dull, cold disappointment, hurt. Trey’s chest ached as though his lungs had been burned after coming too close to an open fire. He was almost a little mad at himself for getting his hopes up—getting BOTH of their hopes up like that.
“You sure a souvenir’s gonna be enough? He looked really bummed out,” Cater murmured, eyes on the door as though he expected Riddle to storm in and snap for talking behind his back.
“I mean, what else can we really do? There’s no arguing with Riddle’s mom.” Removing his hat, Trey ran a hand through his hair, mentally brushing away ashes of Riddle’s disappointment with the motion. “...I’ll think of something to make it up to him.”
From the moment he set foot in his bedroom, Riddle put himself to work in an effort to dispel his disappointment over spring break. A task easier said than done. Especially when, either through divine trickery or sheer, unlucky coincidence, the poetry from his homework only hammered the idea in harder.
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only—
Riddle shut the book.
“This isn’t supposed to make me WANT to go! Focus!” he hissed to himself. “Let it go! It’s an unfortunate circumstance, but these things happen.” Motivation surging, he tucked his thumb under the book cover to resume his studies.
And found he simply couldn’t will himself to open it back up. As if the book itself refused to allow him in.
With a frustrated groan, he shoved it to the far corner of the desk. “Fine, then! I’ll set upon another task and return with a clearer mind.”
Getting a head start on preparations for the dorm in his absence sounded nice, so he tugged open his bottom-most drawer and thumbed through the folders until he found a bright, pastel pink one, color-coded for the season. Such tasks were required regardless of whether his spring break destination was home or overseas, and thus held little sway in the way of distractions. Or so he thought.
As he flipped open the folder (a tad harder than he intended due to his foul mood), a loose leaf sheet of paper fluttered out, and he flicked his pen to snatch it out of the air without having to fumble from his seat. Pulling it close, he meant to give it a quick once-over and return it to the folder, but the contents gave him pause; a registration sheet for extracurricular classes held over spring break. Such papers had been handed out during the last Housewarden meeting to be distributed among the dorm’s students. He’d set them up for grabs in several common areas, and kept a few emergency copies stowed away just in case.
Cater’s foolish suggestion rang in his head.
Riddle scoffed and slotted the paper into the folder’s sleeve from whence it came…then slowly pulled it right back out, eyes scanning the guidelines. The folder was shut and set aside at the same delayed pace.
…Could he?
The following day was a Saturday, and though he’d fumbled his initial, private attempt at prepping the dorm, Riddle had every intention of getting something done over the weekend. That was what he told Trey and Cater first thing in the morning, and sure enough, he held them to it; come noon, they commandeered the lounge to lay out papers and snacks, and though it wasn’t anywhere near as thorough as the preparations done for the winter holiday, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.
“I was going over the list of duties to assign to the students, and I noticed that there’s nobody taking care of the hedgehog cages. Was there something more we had to go over about that?” Trey brought up about an hour and fifteen minutes into their discussion, the metal ridge of his pen’s gem pressed up against his bottom lip.
Surprisingly, Riddle waved him off. “Oh, you needn’t worry about that. I’ll be there to handle it.”
Trey took his eyes away from the paper, brow raised. “But you’re going back home next Monday, right? Won’t we still need someone to refill the bowls the rest of the week?”
“I’m no longer going.”
“You’re—what?” Trey blinked. Both him and Cater turned to stare at Riddle in confusion, then shared a glance to check that they both heard correctly, then went right back to staring. Despite the scrutiny, Riddle didn’t appear at all phased, still writing away on his clipboard as if he hadn’t said something totally absurd for his circumstances.
Cater finally broke the bewildered silence. “But your mom wanted you back, right? Isn’t she gonna get, like, super pissed off if you just decide to flake on her?”
“I sent her a letter requesting permission to enroll in a number of extracurricular, alongside a copy of the signup sheet, course details, and a cited list of reasons why allowing such would be a boon to my education,” Riddle explained simply. “She approved, though reluctantly.”
His mother changed her mind.
Riddle Rosehearts managed to convince his mother to change her mind.
Trey almost wanted to look outside and see if pigs were flying. “That’s amazing! You must’ve presented one convincing argument for her to agree,” he breathed, a hint of (relieved? Astonished?) laughter leaking into his voice.
“I requested Professor Trein’s assistance with the letter, so I’m pleased it paid off.”
“Way to go! Guess you’re getting a break of sorts after all.” Suddenly, Cater clapped as a realization hit him, and jabbed a finger in Riddle’s direction. “Wait, hang on. Doesn’t this mean you can totally tag along on the trip?”
Riddle froze for a split second, a reaction far more telling than he likely would’ve been comfortable with, then cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, switching which leg crossed over which. The picture of calm, professional indifference once more. “THEORETICALLY, yes. There is no restricted date for turn-ins on the coursework, and everything is self-imposed research, which can be completed off-campus. However, there are other optional lectures which I do wish to attend, and, as previously stated, someone needs to tend to the hedgehogs.” And there it was; his head ducked ever so slightly, and his cheeks were turning a faint shade of pink. “Besides, I’ve already refused your invitations. It would be rude of me to insert myself after the fact, especially if you’ve other guests to bring along.”
“Trey hasn’t, actually,” Cater informed him.
Riddle’s head snapped up so fast, it was a miracle it didn’t induce whiplash.
Endeared, Trey had to fight from letting his smile grow too wide. He hid it by wiping cookie crumbs from his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, I’m still down a plus-one. We were talking about bringing Ace and Deuce, but since Yuu and Grim are invited too, we teamed up with them.”
“I’m bringing Deucey, and Yuu’s got Acey.”
“So, the offer’s still wide open if you want to. No pressure, though.”
“I…see.” Riddle held their gazes for a few moments, jaw working as he weighed his options. Then he looked back down at his clipboard as though it could conceal the little smile threatening to curl his lips half as well as Trey’s napkin method. “In that case, perhaps I…would like to take you up on it.”
Cater threw his fist into the air. “Woo!! Riddle’s comin’ along to hit the surf! You’ve never actually been to the beach, right?”
“I have been ON a beach. But in the context you’re referring to, no, I haven’t.”
“Get ready to have your MIND. BLOWN. Oh, right, but first things first—do you have a swimsuit?”
“No. Whyever would I be in need of one when I’ve chosen flight over swimming for my elective?”
“Right, figures. No problemo though.” In a flash, Cater was tapping away on his phone. “What about sandals?”
Curious, Riddle set the clipboard on the table. “No need for them either. What are you doing?”
“Well, you’re gonna be in need of them now, lemme tell you. Sand in the shoes is no joke.” He didn’t so much as look up from the screen. “And I’m makin’ a list of necessities we gotta get you. T-shirts?”
“I have a couple light shirts meant to be worn as a bottom layer.”
Finally Cater’s thumbs paused, and his face screwed up as though he’d sucked on a lemon, a low hum accompanying the expression. “Ooookay, y’know what, why don’t we just go on one big shop and grab whatever comes to mind? Cay-cay could use a new pair of swim trunks.”
“And just who is going to be paying for—” Riddle cut off as Cater abruptly grabbed his wrist to tug him out of his seat. “Wait! Don’t pull my arm! Cater!”
Trey laughed softly as he watched the two vanish through the door, a newfound bud of fondness blossoming in his chest. Sure, they didn’t get as much done during their little meetings as intended, but frankly, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wasn’t even bothered about having to clean up all of the forgotten papers, allowing his mind to wander forward a week and change while he gathered everything together.
His first proper vacation with Riddle…the thought scattered the blossom’s petals throughout his rib cage, fluttering up to his head and down to his stomach.
“Hey, Trey!” Cater’s voice calling from the hall startled him, and he nearly dropped the papers. “You coming along?”
“Yeah, in a minute! Let me put this stuff away, first,” he answered back.
With their supplies tucked safely under his arm, Trey scurried off to follow the other two.