Chapter Text
Holidays weren’t celebrated once the world ended. After a decade of living on a desolate planet, they were hardly even remembered. Still, those in communities, those that were safe, kept calendars. Of course, there was no certainty they were one hundred percent correct, but that didn’t matter much. Each was clearly labeled with the supposed dates, days of the week, and, if applicable, the holidays. If remembered, holidays gave people something to look forward to; events that became rarer during the colder months.
Hilltop celebrated the big holidays: Christmas and, some years, Thanksgiving. The other communities, Alexandria and The Kingdom, celebrated almost every one. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine’s Day; you name it, they probably decorated and partied. The reasoning came down to the simple fact that they had significantly more people than Hilltop. Both Alexandria and the Kingdom bustled with children and families. Over the winter, two babies were born in the latter, and one in the former. The Kingdom had undergone a “boom” of sorts, becoming the prime family destination for those wanting a better life than Hilltop. Over the previous two years, they had grown from three hundred to six hundred, increasing every few months. Alexandria was a close second with two hundred and fifty, though it frequently gained new members. Finally, the Hilltop, home: forty-seven. That was exactly forty-seven. And none were under the age of twenty. There were a measly eight community members under twenty-five, the vast majority in their late thirties.
I was the youngest, which Tara enjoyed reminding me of. It was all good fun, though reminding her that she was pushing thirty was humorous. That usually left her speechless and aside herself, unsure whether to scold me or laugh. She didn’t scold me often though. Usually, I was her friend, only occasionally a little sister of sorts. When she had brought me to Hilltop from Alexandria two years prior, she had become my guardian. I stayed in the spare room in her trailer, under constant watch for a while. Eventually, we were able to be friends. As I grew, she could step out of the big-sister role and into the mentor and friend role more often. Regardless, I always saw her as the older sister I never got. She cared for me, sometimes to a fault, and I was grateful.
Tara tried to convince me to leave Hilltop nearly every week and today was no different. It was only ten days until Halloween and Tara had insisted I make decorations with her the night before. Armed with orange, black, and purple scrap papers, we stayed up late cutting out pumpkins, bats, witches, etc. She had given me creative freedom with my pile. I created a few different pumpkin chains, making patterns of color and size. It was fun, I couldn’t deny that. With how busy our lives were, I didn’t see her much after I moved into my trailer; she, running Hilltop, and I, studying for “medical school” (long story, even longer explanation).
When she suggested it again, I was on top of a ten-foot ladder, hanging a pumpkin chain above the Council Building entrance.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, you know,” she said.
“I’m not going back, Tara,” I said, rolling my eyes at the wall.
It was hard not to get annoyed with her sometimes. She was unreasonably stubborn.
“I just think it would be good for you to visit, maybe stay for the winter.”
The look I gave her was nothing short of appalled and confused. The very idea was mind-boggling. Where is this coming from?
“Come on,” she urged. “Oliver and Charlie would love to see you. It would be good for you to be around more kids your age.”
There it is.
“Tara I just got back from seeing them a week ago and I…” A heavy sigh left me. I pinched the bridge of my nose before I said my usual mantra: “They are fine without me. I do not need to be around more kids my age. It is better for me here. Please, drop it.”
“Alright, alright,” she relented, surrendering her arms. She hastily grabbed the ladder again when it wobbled. I glared down at her.
Shaking my head, I went back to hanging our chains. We fell back into an easy conversation that left me with enough brainpower to mull over her previous comments.
It had only been the past year that she had been suggesting I return to Alexandria. At first, it was only once in a blue moon, then it progressed into a near-weekly occurrence. Each time, she had the same excuses: “Your brother and sister miss you” “There’s so many old people here” and, more rarely, “Aaron wants you to come back.”
If I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t exactly sure what was stopping me from going back. Maybe it was fear or resentment—possibly shame. Either way, I didn’t want to return. Being as blunt as he tended to be, Alden always told me I was running from my problems; that I let fear get in my way. I partially agreed with him, but I would never tell him that. Running from my problems hadn’t been too bad so far, why switch the script?
Tara was saying my name.
“Are you listening to me?”
“What?” I looked down at her.
“I said I think that’s good,” she chuckled. “Come down.”
I obliged, not being the biggest fan of heights in the first place. Tara watched me intently as I climbed down. She was trying to read me, as she often did. To her credit, she was good at it. The scrunch of her brows told me she already knew something was bothering me. But, even as we packed up our supplies and returned the ladder to the painters upstairs, she didn’t say anything. A thankful warmth passed through me; I wanted to enjoy the day, not spend it spilling my every thought and feeling.
“Any plans for the rest of our Saturday?” I asked. We descended the marble stairs of the Council Building together, pausing in the pool of sunlight at the bottom.
“Hm, no,” she sighed, face skyward. “You have a surprise coming later though.”
Basking in the warmth of the sun myself, I barely caught the tail end of her response.
“Surprise?” I looked over to her.
“A small one. It should arrive in…” She looked at her watch, “well, around now.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused knitting my brows into their all-too-normal scowl.
“Must you seem so angry?” she joked. “It’s a surprise, not a bomb.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and steered us into the main yard.
“Bombs can be surprises,” I pointed out. “Usually they are, actually.”
Tara only shook her head and chuckled.
Hoping to keep the gnawing curiosity away, I gazed at Hilltop as we walked. Being Saturday, the community was out and about. Coming into winter, everyone was getting their fair share of outdoor time. The winters in Georgia weren’t as awful as up north, where Mom was from. Still, it was getting colder each day and I could already see morale diminishing. People were moving slower, staying out less. It was only two o’clock and already some were heading home. A few, the younger ones, stayed out to work—the few who remained flocked into patches of sunlight. Like lizards, I thought.
We had reached the gates. Tara pulled me toward the stairs leading to the top of the wall. When I glanced up, I noticed Alden and Enid on guard duty. They truly were attached at the hip, as much as they would deny it. I thought it was cute, even if I did tease them. An annoying, hopeful, part of me yearned to have what they did. My logical, realistic part knew it wasn’t likely to happen. I knew nearly every boy my age in Hilltop and Alexandria and they were all subpar at best. Whenever Tara tried to press that particular issue, she never failed to mention that I didn’t know anyone in the Kingdom. Unable to oppose that, I usually rolled my eyes and said I was uninterested in dating.
“Finished decorating?” Enid looked at Tara as we reached the platform at the top of the stairs. She always seemed to know when I didn’t feel like talking.
I gave her a small smile and approached the top of the wall.
Everything seemed prettier in the light, despite the winter to come. The road leading to the gates wound smoothly through the trees before disappearing a quarter-mile out. On its left, the forest was an expanse of towering cedar and pine. Slowly, the vegetation covering the ground was transitioning from deep green to death-yellow. Soon the grass and leaves would be a bright expanse of white snow.
The right side of the road was bare land, fenced in with posts and barbed wire. Nearly the size of a football field, the farms left us with an abundance of produce each harvest season. We never needed to trade for fruits, vegetables, or wheat. Due to construction on their fields, however, Alexandria traded meat and dairy with us for produce throughout the season. Other than that, there was the occasional medicine or ammunition trade with the Kingdom, but that was done with gear on our part, never food.
Each community had a specific product. Alexandria was meat and dairy-heavy, the Kingdom had medicine and ammunition, and Hilltop had produce and gear. Our blacksmith, Earl, was a machine when it came to making armor and weapons. At the ripe age of 63 (give or take a few years), he never failed to supply our neighbors with all their protection needs. He had previously been at the Kingdom since the world ended but came to Hilltop around the time I had. In his words, he and his wife, Abby, wanted “the quiet life”.
Many people came to Hilltop for that reason. Other than the teenagers (all of whom were there because of various behavior issues), everyone came to settle. They enjoyed how small, close, and work-heavy, it was. Because there were no children, Hilltop was timid. You didn’t have to worry about the hustle-bustle of the other communities. There weren’t big celebrations or fairs; those you could travel to if you wanted. Of course, the other teens got into trouble every once in a while, but that just meant more work for them.
Though focused on the farmland, I caught movement in the corner of my eye. My gaze snapped back to the road. I didn’t have the best vision, but I could see the faint outline of a wagon rolling slowly toward Hilltop.
“There’s somebody here,” I said, pointing towards the road.
“Huh, wonder who that could be,” Alden said. Enid and Tara merely shrugged.
“None of you know?” My mouth fell open. “Why are you not worried?”
They all shrugged again. I glanced back; the wagon was about halfway to us. That gave us less than five minutes until it arrived. Irritated and a little nervous, I snatched the binoculars from Alden’s hands and shoved them into my eyes. The binoculars took some adjusting but eventually focused. I swept them up the road, anxiety eating at my chest. One hand on the binoculars, the other on the knife on my right hip. As the wagon came into focus, I could see two people. A young man sat on the left and a woman on the right.
“No way,” I muttered. “No fucking way. Carol?”
My face broke into a wide grin as I lowered the binoculars and looked back at the trio behind me. Each had a little smirk on their faces.
“Is this the surprise?” I asked Tara. Her smile was the only confirmation I needed.
My arms were around her in moments. She laughed at my bone-crushing hug. With a kiss planted on my head and a, “Go on,” she nudged me towards the stairs.
No hesitation.
I took the rickety stairs down two at a time. They were damp and slick, causing me to nearly fall more than once. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t slow down.
Due to our proximity to the gates and my rushing, I reached them before they began opening. I looked up and urged Alden to start opening them. He said something about the wagon not being close enough, but I didn’t care. If he wouldn’t open them, I would. There were protests as I began yanking on the entrance, mostly from Alden; He was always protective of the walls, even if he did know I couldn’t physically damage them. Subsequently, it only took a few rattling tugs before he finally agreed and signaled the guard on the other side to start opening them.
Barely able to contain my excitement, I backed up just enough to not get hit by the doors but still be right in line with where the wagon would enter. With sharp, high screeching, the gates opened slowly. Within moments, I could see two chestnut horses just cusping the hill. Carol would arrive in a minute, maybe less. Soon, I could see her mane of long, gray hair, and her bright smile.
My skin buzzed, and my excitement festered in my stomach. It made its way down my body, shaking my legs as I resisted the urge to sprint forward. Glee. I felt pure, absolute, glee. I didn’t even register who was beside her.
My legs began moving the moment she stopped the wagon. She hopped down right as I reached her and crashed into her arms. Her kind laugh brought tears to my eyes; I hugged her tighter.
“I missed you so much,” I said, beginning to cry into her shoulder.
“Oh, I missed you too, dear,” she said. She kissed the side of my head and ran an arm up and down my back. “There’s no need to cry.”
Her hands found my face and she held me at arm's length. “Look how beautiful you are! You were so little last time.”
“What, a year ago?” I laughed and wiped away my tears.
Carol scoffed and waved me off.
“You have grown,” she said, “Into a very beautiful young lady. Ugh, look at that hair! It’s getting so long.” She pulled my double braids to my front, smiling as she ran her hands over them.
My face burned. Compliments weren’t the easiest thing for me, but her eyes were genuine. I gave her another quick hug with a thank you.
“What are you doing here?” I asked finally.
“Well, since you asked.”
Carol grabbed my hand and pulled me along the back of the wagon. There, the boy she had been riding with was unloading a few bags from the back of the wagon. He looked up as we came around. I blushed the moment our eyes met; he was handsome, very much so. He had dusty blonde hair and pretty blue eyes brought out by the deep green of his coat. He had grown taller than the last time we’d met. His skin was fair and sprinkled with even more freckles than before. “Frankie, this is my son-“
“Henry,” I finished. Carol looked a bit taken aback. “We’ve met.”
“A couple of times, actually.” His voice was deeper than I remembered. “It’s nice to see you again, Frankie.”
“You too.” I couldn’t fight a smile as I reached out and shook his hand. His palm was calloused and hot to the touch. “You’ve grown.”
Henry chuckled, a warm, light sound.
“It took a while, but I have proudly surpassed five-foot-seven.”
Clearly. He was a good head taller than me now. The last time we’d seen each other, he only had an inch on me.
“Henry will be staying here for a while,” Carol said, resting a hand on his bicep.
“Really?” I reluctantly pulled my eyes from his.
“Yep,” Carol smiled. “He’ll be apprenticing with Earl for the winter.”
Excitement festered beneath my skin.
“That’ll be fun,” I said. “You’ll enjoy it here, I think. It’s more promising than it seems.”
Henry chuckled at that; his smile lifted a little higher on his left side, lifting his freckles over his high cheekbones.
“I will take your word for it,” he said.
“You should,” Carol said. “She’s lived here awhile. She’s a good girl to have around, Henry.”
“I like to think I’m alright.”
It wasn’t long before Carol left us to catch up with Tara. She kissed us each on the cheek, told us to unpack the cart, and headed off.
“She is so affectionate,” I said.
“Oh, you’re telling me,” Henry chuckled. He climbed into the back of the cart and began pushing various crates of goods towards me. “I can’t leave her sight without giving her a kiss on the cheek.”
I laughed. “I don’t mind it.”
“Me neither,” he smiled.
“So, how’ve things been? You know, from you this time. I’ve heard just about everything from your mom’s letters.” I took a crate of cloth from him. “It’s been a while, huh?”
“You know, give or take a few years,” Henry said. “I think it was…three years ago? The last time we saw each other.”
“Yeah, yeah, when my mom—when my brother was born.” I cringed at my falter. Henry didn’t seem to notice and broke out in a broad grin. He had straight, white, teeth that made me suddenly aware of my slightly crooked ones. I set a wooden box of metal on the ground.
“Oh yeah! Oliver, how is he? And Charlie right?”
I nodded. “They’re good. Getting bigger every time I see them.”
“Charlie was so little when I met her,” he said.
“She’s almost five now, just started school last year.”
“You guys have school here?” Henry asked.
My skin prickled. “Oh, no, well kind of. Not for kids. They don’t live with—with me. It’s just me here.”
“Oh, okay.” A pause. “Do you do school?”
“I’m doing some work under Doctor Cox right now.” I relaxed at the change in discussion. “She’s training me.”
“Really?” He looked…impressed. “That’s really cool! Do you want to be a doctor? Or a nurse?”
Heat raged across my face. Resisting the stupid grin that followed made my cheeks sore.
“Yeah, yeah, something like that. I’d rather be doing something else, but this is kind of the only option.” I said. “How did we get to talking about me? I asked you.”
Henry chuckled and hopped down from the cart. He landed lightly, despite the materials he carried.
“You got me,” he said. “I don’t have much going on, since we last met at least.”
We had fallen into a pattern, walking past each other between carrying supplies to the clearing off the main driveway.
“Oh come on,” I urged, weighed down by a box of canned goods. “You know your mom tells me everything right? So you might as well spill it.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, adding a “give me that,” as he passed by. He took the box from me with ease.
“I finished school already. I mostly work on construction with a crew back home. It’s nothing special really.”
“Nothing special? She told me you have your own crew,” I said. We passed by each other again, him heading from the cart, me heading to.
“Man she just spills all my secrets, doesn’t she?” Henry chuckled.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it.”
He sighed and paused at the cart, hands on his hips. “I have my own crew,” he confirmed. “It’s small, nothing crazy.” He sighed and slipped his jacket off.
Jesus.
Henry was built, to say the least. In the time we had been apart, he had gone from a scrawny, lanky, boy to a strong young man. I tried not to stare, mostly in awe that somebody could change so much. I mean, seriously, his biceps were almost as big as my head. It was impressive.
“Back to you, my stuff’s boring.” Luckily, he was focused on snooping through the last crate in the cart, not my staring.
“I mean, mine is too, honestly,” I shrugged, leaning beside him. “I have studying on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And clinical on Tuesday and Thursday. Mostly work and well, more work.”
“What are you studying?”
“Biology and anatomy," I said. "They're about the only subjects I need more knowledge of."
Henry nodded, “You must be pretty smart.”
I gave him a sideways look. He laughed.
“I try to be,” I said.
We took advantage of the silence, each looking out across the community. I spotted Carol near the Council Building, chatting happily with Tara and Jesus.
“You know, seeing your mom has been the highlight of my summer,” I said. “I miss her.”
I felt him looking at the side of my head. Still, I couldn’t look away from her. I had spent so much time wishing she was with me. When things got bad, in the depths of winter, her letters got me through. The prospect of seeing her after the winter kept me going. A part of me longed to be in the Kingdom. Late at night, I would fall asleep to the idea of living there. I’d pick up the kids and move; we’d live in one of the community apartments together. The kids would do school, I would work at the hospital or maybe teach, like I’d wanted to since we arrived at Alexandria all those years ago. And every day, Carol would come to see me. We’d enjoy dinner together, merging our little families. All would be well.
“She misses you too.” Henry broke through my train of thought. “Talks about you all the time.”
I smiled, finally pulling my eyes from her.
“These last few days, all she’s talked about is how we would get along so well,” he continued. “She told me how funny you were. How good of a person you were. She is so proud of you.”
My eyes burned. I looked away and cleared my throat.
“She’s proud of you too,” I said. “I’ll have to show you some of her letters sometime.”
“Do I want to see them?” he chuckled.
I shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not.”
As we fell to silence again, I found that I didn’t mind standing there with Henry. Usually, I didn’t enjoy talking with kids my age, but Henry hadn’t changed in our three years apart. He still held himself higher than the other boys did; standing tall and straight-backed, speaking clearly and formally. It was obvious he was Carol’s son.
“Speak of the Devil, where did Mom go?” Henry muttered, looking around slowly.
“By the Council Building,” I said, “She’s with Jesus and Tara.” I pointed. “I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh I've met Tara a lot, actually. Still, lead the way,” Henry said.
He followed me up the gravel drive. “Good, I'm sure you like her. Jesus is…well, he’s something.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Henry sounded amused.
“He can be…how do I say this?” I laughed lightly. “He can be difficult, a little…bipolar.”
“Bipolar, huh?” Henry chuckled.
I sighed. “You’ll learn.”
Carol noticed us approaching and beckoned us over with a smile. Tara and Jesus turned, both looking chipper. Henry and I stood by Carol. Henry shook hands with Jesus, but Tara pulled him into a big hug, commenting on how big he kept getting. They all exchanged pleasantries. Everyone but me had known about their visit.
“It was my idea to keep it a surprise,” Carol said as I began to complain that they were keeping secrets from me.
“Oh, that’s alright then,” I said. Carol laughed and pulled me into a side hug.
Jesus and Tara got right to work on talking to Henry. Carol took that as a cue to tug my arm and begin leading me toward the gates.
“Where are we going?” I asked. She squeezed my arm affectionately.
“Just on a walk.” She winked.
I took her word for it and leaned my head on her shoulder as we walked. We made our way to the wall in silence, locking our arms together to ward off the chill. Every few steps, Carol would rub her thumb across my knuckles. She let me ahead of her once we reached the stairs to the top of the gates. I looked around once I was there.
“Did you plan this?” I asked, nodding towards the empty post.
“Maybe,” she said, sitting on the bench that always stood there. “I wanted to talk with my girl. Sit.”
I could do nothing but listen and plop down next to her. She turned towards me, knees facing inwards. With how intimate the moment was, I would’ve thought she had awful news. Then her eyes teared up and I was sure she had awful news. She cupped my hands in hers.
“Carol, what’s wrong?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I am just so proud of you. You’ve grown so much. Your mom…” she sighed. “She would be so proud of the woman you’re becoming Francesca.”
My eyes blurred at the mention of my mother. Carol was one of the few people outside of her that ever called me by my full name and, now, was the only one that did. Where my skin usually prickled when others said it, it warmed hearing it from her. The usual harshness of the consonants flowed from her with nothing but love. Achy longing stormed through my chest.
“I want to ask something of you,” she said. We’d spent a moment looking at each other before she’d spoken.
I nodded, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Of course. Anything.”
“I want you to watch out for my boy and yourself,” she said.
Her tone held more than normal concern, but I couldn’t understand why.
“We’ll be fine Carol…”
“I know dear, I know. I just…” she shook her head. “There’s more to his arrival than you know right now. I won’t tell his circumstances for him but I ask that you keep an eye out for him, make sure he’s settling in well. He’s a smart boy and I know he has plenty of mistakes to make but…I want him to be happy. Even if that means sending him here.”
I shook my head slightly, hoping to shake the confusion off. Before I could ask, Carol held up a hand.
“I can’t say much else Frankie. It would be unfair of me. Just know that he is a good boy. Once he tells you what happened, and I know he will eventually, you’ll understand. You’re very similar in that way: complicated pasts. I think that will make you two great friends.”
The goodbyes with Carol were tearful; well, me and her were, Henry seemed content. He let his mother hug him for as long as she wanted, told her he loved her a million times, and kissed her cheek. She hugged me tightly too.
“Keep an eye on him, will you?” She asked quietly. I smiled.
“Of course,” I said.
When she pulled away, she had tears in her eyes.
“Oh, Mom,” Henry smiled sympathetically and hugged her again. She was decently shorter than him, emphasizing her small stature beside his tall, solid one. “I’ll be okay, alright? It’s only a couple of months. And I am in very good hands.”
Feeling as if I was intruding, I turned away. I pet the horses for a bit, letting the duo have their moment. Finally, with tears still in her eyes, Carol climbed onto her wagon and rode off. We waved until the gates closed.
“I think you’re more sad than I am,” Henry said.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t get to see her that often.”
We had a bonfire that night to welcome Henry. All forty-eight of us gathered around a large fire, finding logs and old chairs to sit on. Unfortunately, Gage and his cronies had joined us. Why they suddenly decided to emerge from their cesspit from hell was a wonder to me. As long as I stayed out of their line of sight, stuck by Tara and Enid, they wouldn’t cause trouble. They had a history of being horrible to me, which I had accepted in earnest after a while. Life was entirely too short to worry about what they thought of me.
I found myself on the ground beside Henry. He asked a lot of questions, which I didn’t mind. They were mostly about who everybody was. With how easy conversation was with him, I played through what Carol had said earlier, curiosity eating away at me. What she said about Henry being sent to the Hilltop, and how she was so sure we’d be good friends, it all confused me.
“Do you guys do this often?” Henry asked. I raised my brow at him. “Bonfires, get-togethers, that sort of thing. We always have something like this going on in the Kingdom.”
“Oh, no,” I sat up fully. “Everything is really…mellow here. Hopefully, you don’t find it boring, it definitely can be.”
Henry shook his head. “I like being bored. The Kingdom can be a lot sometimes, y’know?”
“Yeah, being Prince Henry must be tough,” I smirked, nudging against his shoulder. He rolled his eyes so hard, I thought they’d fall out of his head.
“Good god, do not call me that,” he sighed.
I laughed.
“Seriously,” Henry held back a chuckle. “That is all anyone ever calls me back home.”
“Well, you’ll be happy to know you are just Henry here,” I said.
“Just Henry,” he repeated. “Sounds perfect. Are you Just Francesca?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes, the start of a smart retort on my tongue. Before it could sound, I locked eyes with Gage. He was across the bonfire, his image flickering in the flames. His eyes had been boring into the side of my head most of the night and he didn’t stop when our gazes met. Though my heart started to race, I didn’t budge; it was a game I played: don’t look away until they do, win by will, win by spite. It was cheesy, but I was stubborn. They couldn’t take that from me.
“You alright?”
Henry had leaned forward, blocking my view. I had lost.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” I said. A forced smile made its way onto my face.
“Who are you eyeballing?” Henry asked.
I debated whether to lie or not. But he would have to find out eventually; maybe I could keep him away from them.
“Them.” I pointed right at Gage’s little group, eight in total. “Gage and His Cronies, I call ‘em.”
“Why are you staring at them?” Henry asked, a cheeky smirk on his face. “Do you–”
“No.”
I winced at my tone.
“No,” I said, softer. “They just…don’t get involved with them, Henry. They are bad news.”
“I talked to a couple of them earlier,” he said. “That one, in the back, the ginger.”
Rodney.
“And that girl with the pigtails. I think she went to my school at some point, she said she recognized me.”
Addy.
Originally from Alexandria, Rodney came to Hilltop a year before me, sent away by his mom for fighting. Addy, ironically, got sent from the Kingdom around the time I moved in for bullying. Both were at least twenty but just like the rest of their group, acted sixteen.
“When did you talk to them?” I asked, side-eyeing him.
Henry shrugged. “They were grabbing drinks when we were getting the fire together. They offered me something, but I didn’t take them up on it.”
My skin started to crawl. His eyes held no judgment when he looked at them. He seemed irritatingly indifferent. I wanted to spill everything the group had put me through right then and there, to a kid I had just met. But I knew it would be no good. He seemed like the type to want to see the good in everyone. He would have to learn for himself.
“Just…” I sighed heavily. “Watch out for yourself, okay? I’m telling you now, they are bad news.”
Henry scrunched his brows and looked up at me as I stood.
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
“I’m going to go grab a blanket,” I said. “It’s getting a bit chilly.”
It wasn’t a total lie. I was getting cold and a blanket would be nice, but I just needed a break. Itchy anxiety was beginning to crawl up my chest. Every memory with that group came rushing back along with the worry of what they would tell Henry about me. Would he believe them? Was he that gullible?
Once in my trailer, I took a deep breath and raked my hands through my hair. A part of me wanted to go lay in bed; I was exhausted more than usual. But I felt bad. I hadn’t told anybody, apart from Henry, that I was leaving. Plus I wanted to get to know him, not ditch him to run off with Gage and his pose. Instead of staying, I did as I said and grabbed a quilt before heading back out.
It was a welcome sight, everybody together. For the first time in months, the community seemed happy. There wasn’t a sad sight to be had. I couldn’t help but smile. That was until I returned to where I had left Henry; he wasn’t there. I spun in a slow circle, searching the crowd for him.
“Tara?” I nudged her with my knee. “Where’s Henry?”
She looked up at me, then around the crowd.
“You’re not gonna like it,” she said, pointing across the fire.
“What do you…”
There he was, laughing with Gage. He had joined the group of boys (plus Addy, that bitch) in their little corner by the Council Building. In his hand, a cup of God knows what. Addy was already leaning on his shoulder, twirling a pig tail around her finger. You’d think she’d save those fuck-me eyes for her boyfriend, but apparently not. I sighed, the excitement and hope I’d had for Henry deflating. I plopped down beside Tara.
“He’ll learn,” she said. “He’s a smart one.”
Tara wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I adjusted the quilt across the both of us.
“I thought he’d be different from them,” I admitted pathetically.
“He is.” She patted my back. “He just has to learn. Don’t beat yourself up about it, kiddo. You had to learn too.”
I nodded. I would beat myself up about it later. It was silly, I knew that much. He didn’t have to listen to me or take my advice. But I had thought he would, being Carol’s kid and all. Especially considering the way Carol had talked him up before. He seemed nice and smart. Hanging out with them wouldn’t get him anywhere though.
Even as Tara rambled, trying to distract me, I stared through the fire at Henry. The longer I watched him laugh and rough house with them, the more my blood boiled. The more Addy hung off him, the more I ground my teeth. Who the hell did he think he was? Resentment built in my gut.
You should've just told him, I thought.
It was the other side of my brain, the rational side. Trying to convince me that jumping to hatred was silly. Luckily, it wasn’t winning out. Besides, it was too much to tell. Way too much for the first time meeting him. I hadn’t told almost anyone: Enid and Tara knew everything, and Alden knew a little. Everyone else in the community just knew we didn’t get along, that they gave me shit relentlessly, and that I didn’t care. And that’s all they needed to know.
“He’s staying with you, by the way.”
“What?” I gave Tara the most aghast look I had ever given anyone. Mouth agape, eyebrows scrunched, I knew I looked appalled. She pressed her lips together apologetically.
“Did we not mention that?”
“No, you didn’t,” I said coldly.
“Oh, well, he is.”
“Why me? Put him with Earle, or, better yet, with his little friends up in the Council Building.”
Tara sighed and turned towards me more.
“You want me to be honest?”
I nodded.
“Carol asked.”
“What?”
“She wants someone to keep an eye on him,” Tara said. “With this being his first time away from home, she’s worried he’ll…act up. It’s a long story. Anyway, he’s with you.”
Long story? I filed that in the back of my head. It had to relate to what Carol had said.
For a moment, all I could do was blink at her.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Because we know how you are with boys,” she said.
My offense was clear on my face.
“Frankie, come on, you would’ve said no.”
“Yeah and for good reason,” I argued. “I don’t know him. What if he’s…like them? And he’s a boy! Isn’t there some ancient rule that teen boys and girls can’t live together?” I gestured towards the boys. Tara glanced over momentarily and laughed.
“Frankie, you’re twenty years old,” she said.
“I don’t care! I don’t want to live with him. He’s…look at him, he’s like them.”
“He isn’t,” she said. “Henry’s a good kid, okay? I think you’ll like him. I think you already do.”
My face burned under her gaze. I wanted a friend, not a roommate.
“No, I don’t,” I said. “I’m already sick of him and he just got here.”
Tara gave me the same look she always did when she thought I was being difficult.
“Fine. I need to go clean the kids’ room, then.” I gathered my quilt and stood. Before I could storm off, I whipped back around. “Why were you pushing me to go home if you were so sure we’d get along?”
Her smile dropped a bit. “Force of habit, I suppose.”
“Whatever.” I proceeded to storm off.
Walking around the fire, I felt eyes on the back of my head. I glanced back just in time to catch Henry’s eye. His grin dropped immediately. I knew I must have been glaring, but I didn’t care. Instead, I shook my head in disbelief and looked back down.
Like him, my ass.