Chapter Text
It had been a long and exhausting school year, and Buddy wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his bed and stay there for at least three days. Unfortunately, although the colors of his old quilt made the room feel more like home and the smell of his old sheets made the unfamiliar mattress feel less alien, there wasn’t much else unpacked. The windows were open, which let in a truly heavenly early-summer breeze, but the closet was also open. And the desk drawers. And half the boxes. And suddenly the bedroom door was too, as Jawbone nudged it open with his hip. His hands were busy carrying two mason jars of iced tea, one full and the other already half-gone, and there was a large, orange envelope tucked under his arm.
“Hey, kid,” he said. “Settling in?”
“As well as I can,” Buddy replied, looking up from where he was kneeling on the floor between the open desk drawers and a half-empty box. “Thank you again for givin’ me a place to stay. I know I must sound like a broken record by now, but I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” Jawbone said with a lopsided smile. “We’ve got about a bajillion bedrooms and guest rooms and every other kinda room in this manor. Be a shame not to use ‘em.” He set the full jar of iced tea on the desk and took a sip of the other. “Lydia made the tea. I don’t know what’s in it, but it’s real good.”
Buddy tried it. It really was wonderful. It wasn’t quite like Grandma’s, but not in a bad way. Grandma always used lemon, but Lydia’s tasted like blueberries and something unidentifiably floral.
“Hibiscus…?” he wondered aloud, more to himself than to anyone else.
Jawbone shrugged and dropped the envelope on the desk next to the tea. “School sent this over for you. I know you’re probably beat from just finishing this year and everything, but I’ll look through it with you if you want.”
Buddy hesitated. If it was about his grandparents, the answer to most questions was still a frustratingly resounding I don’t know. When will they be back? I don’t know. Will they be back? I don’t know. Did they just forget about you? I don’t know if I want to know. Are they still your legal guardians? Maybe. Who’s your guardian if they aren’t? Please stop asking questions. I don’t know.
Jawbone must’ve picked up on the trepidation in his face. “I think they just want to check in on what your class is gonna be next year. Seeing as, well, I don’t get the impression that you’re particularly keen to be a cleric of Helio anymore.”
“That’s… a fair assessment, yes,” Buddy said. He hadn’t actually considered what in the world he was going to do next year. He’d been so focused on this year that he’d kind of forgotten the future existed.
“So…?” Jawbone nodded towards the envelope.
“Go ahead,” Buddy acquiesced, grabbing a few old trinkets out of the box and setting them into one of the open drawers.
A few minutes passed, interrupted only by the intermittent shuffling of papers and the occasional sip of tea. Buddy tossed the now-empty box of desk things into the corner near the door and pulled the still-very-full box of books over to the empty bookshelf.
“It looks like all they’re worried about is your class for next semester. They sent over a deity change form, a class change form, an MCAT form, and information packets for all the different classes.” He whistled. “They really sent you the whole shebang. That’s great. Usually class-change consults are all my job, but I think Yolanda felt bad for ya’ and wanted to do somethin’ nice.”
“That’s… yeah, that’s really nice of her. Tell her thank you for me if you see her,” was all Buddy could think to say. It wasn’t like he had any clue what he was actually going to decide on with all of that information. At least he had it now, he supposed. He could read over the packets after he organized the bookshelf. And put away his clothes. And started reading that book Kristen gave him. And went back to his grandparents’ house for anything else he wanted to keep. And stopped at Max’s for anything he might’ve forgotten. And asked the school about guardianship. And-
Yet again, Jawbone clocked in on his brain running a mile a minute and interrupted before it could run itself into the ground. Buddy supposed it was his job to be able to read teenagers like open books, being a high school guidance counselor, but he’d never met a youth counselor in all his days at youth group who’d ever been as good at it as Jawbone.
“I know it’s a whole ‘nother task added to your already full list, but they’re not askin’ for it back until August. Don’t worry about it if your plate’s already full. Just give it some thought if you can spare the brainspace.” He patted the envelope and stood up from the desk chair Buddy hadn’t noticed he’d settled into. He paused in the doorway. “And don’t hesitate to ask me if you need any help. Or any of the Bad Kids, now that I think about it. They’ve got…” He awkwardly tucked his tea into the crook of his elbow to count on his fingers, muttering to himself. “...I think nine classes between them at this point? I don’t even know which ones count anymore. Fig keeps acing classes she’s not enrolled in. Gorgug brute-forced the system to spite Cliffbreaker. Apparently Fabian defeated toxic masculinity in single combat armed with nothing but some fancy-ass sheets? I dunno. You teenagers are a hell of a handful. What I mean to say is: there’s plenty of people who can help you. Just say the word. We’ve got your back, Buddy.”
“I… thank you. For the five hundredth time. Really,” Buddy said, fighting down a sudden fragility that threatened to break his voice mid-sentence. He was not going to cry over iced tea and information packets. He was not .
“Anytime. Oh, before I forget! Ragh’s making burgers tonight as a little summer kickoff now that he’s home. He’s excited to meet you.” With a final, quick smile, Jawbone swung the door shut behind him again. Max’s voice echoed in his head like it had begun to do rather frequently, reminding him that there was nothing wrong with something as totally normal as having emotions. He was having a hard time, but now there was a cold jar of blueberry hibiscus iced tea and all the forms he needed for school without him even having to ask for them.
Maybe he could afford to cry over it just a little.