Chapter Text
Eight year old Lucy was spending another summer afternoon as she often did- At the Felton’s, elbow propped up on Schroeder’s small piano, listening and thinking out loud periodically.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to end up there, especially after one of the long days she and her best friend Patty spent together. They would scale the sidewalks countless times each day, torment whatever neighbor boys were playing outside, discuss very important sleepover plans, and usually end up back at Patty’s house for lemonade. It was a Wednesday today, though, and on Wednesdays Patty’s mom took her to visit her grandparents in the afternoon. Who else would there be to hang out with for the remainder of the day than Patty’s next door neighbor, Schroeder Felton?
Mrs. Felton always welcomed Lucy in when she knocked, much to Schroeder’s dismay. He would groan, and whine, and glare, which made Lucy giggle. After they bickered for no more than twenty or so seconds, he would begin to play.
Lucy liked to listen to him play the piano- She really did. She just liked to hear herself talk more. Schroeder was always there to listen to what she and Patty had done all day, which was something her brother and her mother got bored of or indifferent to instantly. At least Schroeder didn’t respond like they did, with mindless, “That’s great, Lucy,” or “Oh, really?”s when clearly they could care less. Lucy appreciated a good listener.
“Schroeder,” she began (not for the first time today), “I need an opinion.”
He sighed grumpily, only barely stopping what he was playing. “Can’t you ask someone else?”
Lucy rolled her eyes and turned so both elbows were propped up on the top of the piano. “No, I can’t, and it’s very important!” Here, she paused so Schroeder could answer. He didn’t. He simply flipped his book back to the first page and began playing the first few measures once more. Lucy scowled at him. She sat for a little while more before continuing.
“If you and I were to get married, do you suppose we…”
She was interrupted by an angry grunt, and Schroeder stopped playing abruptly. “Don’t say another word! We’re never going to get married so there’s no sense in talking about it!” He said sternly. He picked up playing where he had left off.
Lucy was wide-eyed and admittedly a little embarrassed. He had retaliated before, but she didn’t knew he hated listening to her hypotheticals so much. She turned back around and brought her knees up to her chest. “Now I forgot what I was going to say,” She mumbled quietly. She could feel a humiliated blush rising to her cheeks.
Suddenly, she really wanted to leave. She cleared her throat, feigning her usual confidence, and stood up. Schroeder hardly seemed to notice her leave. As she stepped out onto the Felton’s front step, she felt her stomach begin to swirl uncomfortably. She didn’t understand, she had never felt dejected by his harsh responses before. This time, for some reason, it felt very real. Lucy began to walk down the sidewalk to her house.
Lucy was angry, and more than a little hurt. She simply could not wrap her head around it. Why did this outburst of his feel so different from the others? She clenched and unclenched her hands as she walked. Her face was hot against the summer evening air.
As she reached her front steps, Lucy began to cry. She wasn’t very sure of the reason. It felt like she had lost a friend, and she began to realize how upset she had probably made Schroeder over the years. He probably hated her, she realized, and she began to sob. Typical Lucy, she thought. No wonder no one ever wanted to play.
After that, she stopped going to the Felton’s on a whim. She stopped lingering in his front yard, she stopped playing baseball with the boys. She decided she must put an end to her feelings for Schroeder Felton, even if she really did think they would make the world’s best couple. He would probably never realize anyway.