“Man overboard!”
Annabeth does, in fact, understand that such a cry warrants hastiness. Hurry, even.
“Man overboard! Man overboard!”
Most men, after all, cannot swim, and if the whispers are to be believed then this particular man is not even conscious to try. He is no doubt in peril, and the Fates have a stronger hold on his thread with every passing moment.
“Make way! Man overboard!”
If she is jostled one more time, however.
“Man overboard! Lower the ladder, man overboard!”
Should even one more crew yank her back away from the walls of the ship, patting her on the arm as they shove her ‘somewhere more befitting for such a finely dressed lady’.
“Hook it around him, for the gods’ sake, man overboard!”
There are going to be several more men joining him.
“Clear a path! Clear a path!”
She makes it, finally, to the rail unimpeded enough to lean over and see the man who, she has heard, has fallen overboard. He clings like dark-haired Danaë on the waterlogged hope of a wine barrel, bare back burned from the sun, nose nearly dragging along the friendly swirling waves. His dignity is covered, barely, by a torn, bloodstained cloth, and his tanned skin is crisscrossed with raised white scars.
He is handsome.
She stumbles back from the hull, face burning. And absurd thought to have. She seeks out deliberately a close-cropped head of blond hair, smiling tersely when Captain Grace meets her eyes, offering her a nod.
“Straight line,” she murmurs to herself, pulling back her shoulders.
She gives the men plenty of distance as they haul the downed sailor up from the depths. It irks her, really, to be following their orders, but to help or to offer it would mean more of the jostling, the pushing. More grimey hands irreparably staining the fine silk of the new dress Mother had sent her with.
It takes the crew an embarrassingly long time to haul the man up, even though Annabeth can see, as one of the bulkier men wraps a limp arm around his shoulders, that he is slight. He has the shoulders of a swimmer and the leanness of a scavenger, but his frame is small. In fact she is almost sure that upright, they would stand shoulder to shoulder. Perhaps an inch on his part, nothing more.
She realises, with a start, that the crew is staring at her, and forces her second blush of the day back from whence it came. She meets the expectant states with a tilted chin and hard eyes, drawing her skirts and clicking her heels against the groaning deck.
“What,” she snaps.
“He’s unconscious, my lady.”
“So? Place him out of the sun, have someone monitor him.”
The crewman supporting the unconscious man — truly, Annabeth needs to learn these men’s names; it would be easier if any of them spoke to her at any time other than to ask if the sun was making her feel faint — shifts from foot to foot.
Well.
Foot to peg.
“Yes,” he says eventually. He makes some sort of vague gesture with his hand, stepping forward. “Er — our thoughts exactly, my lady.”
Still, no one moves. The unconscious man’s head lolls, pitching his whole weight forward. Another sailor lunges forward to catch him, readjusting him so he’s steady.
Still, no one moves.
Annabeth shifts to face her betrothed. He winces under her sharp look, hand coming up to run the back of his neck.
“He may fare best under your care,” Captain Grace says hesitantly. “The bunks are unfit for someone in his condition. And my men can be…rough.”
“Choose your words carefully, Jason,” she warns.
Grimacing, Captain Grace plows on. “I mean no offense, my lady. We have no other women on the ship. Your cabin is cool and sheltered and I know you enjoy those weaving projects in idle time. He will not require much more than an eye to ensure he does not pass in his sleep. I can think of no one more capable to watch over him.”
The doctor, for starters, Annabeth thinks. Drunk as he is, the sickly rescue should be his charge; nursing him should be his task.
The crew doesn’t even glance at him, though. He stands happily to the side, red-faced and cross-eyed, bottle dribbling from his trouser pockets, and Annabeth fights the urge to bare her teeth.
“Whatever you believe is best, Captain,” she grits out. She glares at the crew, pausing on each man until he squirms under her gaze. “Do not leave him to soak my sheets.”
They leave him, instead, sprawled on the wooden floorboards.
Annabeth scowls.
A four week journey, her mother had told her. Barely a month at sea, with plenty of stops on the islands dotting the paths and a stack of journals for her research. Captain Grace’s vessel is exceptionally well-stocked and custom built by the brightest of his father’s engineers; so smoothly is it claimed to flow through the water that all aboard her will scarcely feel even the roughest rock of the waves.
A sharp veer to the side has Annabeth stumbling, nearly crushing herself under the man’s dead weight.
“Smooth,” she grumbles to herself, huffing as she drags him back upright. His skin is alarmingly cool from the bite of the water, and still slick. It takes her four tries to force his arm back over her shoulder, slippery as it is. “Top model, they say. Well, what a purse of lies that is. I could design a better ship in my —” she huffs, yanking him the last few feet towards her bed — “sleep.”
She could be more gentle with him, she supposes. If his head or spine is injured then her rough handling will doom him. But, well, penny, pound, et cetera. If he has a head injury and the waves haven’t killed him, her light tossing won’t, either.
Probably.
She deposits him on top of her quilt and then stands at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips, toes tapping. She tilts her head slightly to the right. Narrowing her eyes, she tilts it to the right. She wrinkles her nose and squints her eyes.
She can’t be faulted for her earlier thoughts, she decides.
He has a strange kind of charm to him. The same magnetism present in the performers of her mother’s court; men and women who gather in bright clothing and perform tricks and tease the audience, riding the thin line between furious huffing and uproarious laughter. Troublemakers, with enough skill to balance the line. Thin, twitching fingers and smile lines in the corner of his eyes, thick but maintained brows and dramatically bowed lips.
With a sound so great it rivals the billowing coal engines down billow, the man snores, trail of saliva trickling down his chin.
How revolting. Annabeth finds her lips twitching upwards and resets them deliberately into a graceful line.
Yes, he is the alluring kind. She wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be some kind of thief, or a cast-out stowaway. A wisecracker who pushed the envelope an inch too far.
She stalks over to the windowed wall of her tiny cabin, wrestling it open. The immediate relief of the sea breeze has her gasping, resisting the urge to stick her head out and bask in the cool air. That would be undignified, even if her room as become unbearably stifling with the presence of another person in it.
Gods, she is lonely.
She had hoped at least to have one of her ladies accompanying her. It would have been a little more bearable, the company, cramped as her cabin would be. On this ship now she is bored nearly to tears from sunup to sundown every day, barred from even the most menial of tasks that could upset her delicate womanliness and bereft of even a child to argue with. The crew tiptoes around her like she may crack to fine shards should they so much as offer her more than a fine morning, my lady, or the sun suits you quite beautifully, did you know, and Captain Grace loves nothing more than extended silences. In all honesty she only gets to talk to the ship’s mechanic, who, vulgar as he is, at least talks to her as he would anyone else on the ship. Sure, she can only stand so much of him at a time, and he’s been banned from breathing in her direction since the very first day of their expedition, but if she happens to be in the ship’s engine room as the same time as he is, then it would simply be impolite to ignore her.
Not that Valdez cares much for rules. Or her preferences.
Desperate times, et cetera, et cetera.
Knowing the deck will be too crowded for her to slip down below unnoticed, she settles down onto the old, rickety corner-desk with a sigh, cracking open her journal. Except for a string of blotty doodles along the edges, the paper is devoid of anything, as barren and numb as her mind feels. She understands, dramatic as it is, why so many sailors return from their voyages mad; why pirates and navies alike sail with crews. Even a day on the empty, open ocean without someone to talk to is maddening. She feels as if words flee from her vocabulary with every minute she doesn’t use them. What is there to do, on this stupid boat, besides sleep and eat and mope? She wishes she was allowed to steer the vessel, or watch from the nest. Not stimulating jobs, true, but jobs, at least. She has not sunk so low as to long for a deck-scrubber, but she is dangerously close. She can feel it. Another week at sea without much more than a loom and a needle and her mind will leap into the waves, she’s sure, abandoning her to the dull tedium of the stagnant clouds. The knowledge that she has three weeks left until they reach Lord Dyeus’ kingdom could make her break down into weeping, should she dwell on it long enough. By the time she returns to civilization she may no longer be suited for it.
A rustle sounds behind her, followed by a cut-off snort.
“…Somehow, I don’t think I’m at sea anymore.”
Annabeth yelps, nearly falling right off her chair. She scrambles upright, or tries to, but her stupid petticoats get caught up around her ankles and nearly send her toppling again, this time with even less of her dignity. It is only with sheer force of will that she manages to force her spine straight and upright in perfect time to meet the most gorgeous, sea green eyes she has ever seen.
“You drool when you sleep,” she informs him, darkly satisfied when the amused twinkle fades from his eyes in favour of a flat glare, hand coming up to swipe at his chin.
“I don’t suppose you could tell me where I am,” he mutters as the minutes stretch on.
Annabeth snaps her gaze back up to his face, wishing desperately her cabin had a second window.
“Captain Grace’s ship.” She swallows stiffly, collarbone suddenly itchy. “On route to the Kingdom of Lightning.”
The man’s face pales, long, calloused fingers twitching into fists.
“The ship carrying Princess Annabeth?”
Her mouth dries even further. “…Yes.”
“Someone needs to summon her, quickly. I have news. I — I come from Pirate Jackson’s ship — they threw me off board to drown.”
She knows, immediately, why he tells her this. Why his eyes go round with desperation, why his hands twist, why he has developed a sudden, scrutinizing interest in the view of the sea from outside her window, throat bobbing with every heavy suggestion.
But all hypotheses must be tested.
“Why?”
He meets her gaze, green eyes an exact mirror of the roiling sea around them; layered, stormy, and deeper than the darkest of trenches, wider than the night sky.
“Because they want to know her location. And I refused to give it up.”
———
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓: 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐒
𝐂𝐖: none? very wholesome today.
𝐀/𝐍: um.. so this chapter originally was supposed to be cool moms and a dinner... but now it's just cool moms because i realized i was nearing 7k works and the dinner hadn't even started lmao. anyways enjoy this chapter it's super cute
𝐖𝐂: 6,400 +
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒
ivy didn’t even glance your way as you walked into homeroom the next day, her hair covering her bruised cheek and head turned sharply away from you. a few people mentioned the slight splotch of purple against her porcelain skin, but it seemed everyone was under the impression that she had just fallen and injured herself.
you’re surprised that she didn’t try to frame you for her injury, especially since you came to school the next day with not even a red mark against your skin. you suppose she really wanted garroth to be under the impression she was a sweet girl who would never get in a fight.
oh, please.
it’s not like she had to try extra hard to do so, with how trusting and kind the school’s “prince charming” was.
to add on to your suspicions, ivy proceeded to not bother you for the rest of the week. it was something that was both relieving and incredibly anxiety-inducing. was she really done messing with you? or was she planning something else?
your thoughts are interrupted as you nearly collide with a meif’wa girl who was stationed around the corner and peeking from behind some lockers at the display in front of her. aphmau and a familiar-looking boy argued in the hall, just outside of the werewolf classroom.
the meif’wa girl turns to you, her round eyes holding a brilliant shade of gold and pale cheeks colored a lovely shade of pink. a pink that similarly matched her straight hair that framed her round cheeks and curled at the ends of her shoulders. with her perfectly groomed black tail and ears and the cute bows she used to accessorize, she looked like an adorable porcelain doll.
“excuse me!” she muffles an apology behind the hand she raised to her mouth, her voice mousey and soft.
“oh, that’s okay! i was sidetracked,” you glance back at your friend and the boy who towered over her. “um… what are you doing?”
“well, i always end up passing by those two after my classes are over, and i’m starting to think maybe they like each other without realizing.” she blinks up at you, her smile particularly cheeky and feline. “i want to see if my ship sets sail.”
“your…ship?” you trail questionably, frowning at aphmau’s peeved expression and the guy's deep frown on his scratched and bandaged face.
was this the rude classmate from werewolf studies that aphmau had mentioned before?
“yeah, wouldn’t the enemies to lovers be cute?! and he’s the new “bad boy” junior. i love playing cupid in the school,” she giggles from behind her hand.
you blink, watching as the rather scary-looking boy rolls his eyes, looking totally fed up as aphmau holds her hands on her hips.
“uhh… yeah. nice to meet you by the way,” you give her your name, politely waiting for her to respond as you slowly make your way towards the two.
“oh! it’s… nana.”
“i’ll catch you around sometime,” you wave, before quickly shuffling right up to the tense duo.
man, he is tall. his skin was a tanned olive color, with cuts and bandages littered across his face. ink-black hair hung messily in front of his equally dark eyes and thick brows.
“you ready to go home, aph?” you ask, though you kept your eyes trained directly on deep brown ones.
you recall why you thought he was familiar now, he was the one who unintentionally photobombed your first-day selfie with aphmau and bumped into her without apologizing.
she lets out an irritated huff of air, muttering a “yes” before marching down the hall before you.
you stare at the boy a second longer, before turning away and stretching out your stride to catch up to aphmau. the two of you make your way out of the doors, walking down the street in silence.
“…so?” you start, raising an eyebrow and carefully lacing your hands behind your back.
“i confronted him on why he teases me and is rude to me for no reason and he just said “i was annoying”,” she uses air quotes as she mocks his choice of words. “so i got mad and said he was a jerk and no one would want to be friends with him if he acts like that to people who are just trying to be nice.”
you roll your eyes.
“good. if you act like that all your life you’ll end up sad and alone.”
“that’s what i said!”
when you make it home, your mom is once again eagerly awaiting to tell you something, still in her work clothes as she lingers near the entryway.
“so! we happened to move closer to some other family friends that were also friends with the salomes, and we’re going to meet them all at the park tomorrow afternoon.” she announces to you as you enter the kitchen, clasping her hands together excitedly. “there’s three boys around your age, too!”
“uh, what? why am i just now finding this out?”
“oh don’t worry so much, i’m gonna be there and they’re sweet kids. at least they should be.”
you huff, “alright then.”
☆
you and your mom enter the park from a different side than when you came last time, the trees are less dense, and there’s lots of open space to run around. nearby is a pretty and intricate fountain, with a sculpture of the matron on top. you glance away from it, eyes immediately landing on aphmau and then sylvanna.
sylvanna smiles warmly, approaching mom and giving her a hug. “it’s good to see you again, girl!”
“i know! it’s so good to see you!”
aphmau and you glance at each other a bit awkwardly, crossing your arms as your mothers once again hit it off.
“and oh, mija! you look so cute today, que linda!” her mom’s warm brown eyes land on you.
“thank you-“
“yes, of course! well, why don’t you two talk while we catch up and wait for zianna? when we older ladies go jogging together you two can play with her kids!”
before you can say anything else, the two walk a short distance away, already chatting up a storm with wide eyes and…seriously intense expressions.
“uh, whose kids? what?” aphmau exasperatedly asks to no reply.
you look over to aph as she holds her hands out in annoyed confusion. her hair is held back by a red headband that matches her outfit: red sneakers along with a red square-neck tank top that was loosely tucked into a denim skirt.
you shrug at the girl, used to not being told what was happening until the last possible moment.
“uh… good to see you, i like your outfit?” you start awkwardly.
“…thank you.” she says, looking down at her attire as if she had forgotten what she wore today.
you walk over to a bench that rests under a large and twisted tree. the afternoon sun beats down on the pavement and reflects onto your faces despite taking refuge under the leaves, causing the two of you to squint at each other. the heat from the summer had finally begun to leave, thankfully, and a warm breeze rustled some of the trees, sending some more leaves onto the ground's growing collection.
aphmau sighs, leaning back as she gazes around at the park.
“ugh, at least i’m with you,” she mutters. “are we gonna have to babysit some five-year-old brats?”
“oh, no actually i don’t think-“
“hey, girlfriends!” a bright and cheery voice interrupts your conversation.
you turn to see a beautiful woman with warm green eyes and black hair tied back into a styled ponytail. she was definitely a grown woman, but her blue—and slightly revealing—jogger set and trendy gold jewelry told a different story.
“ah! wassup girl!” sylvanna calls out from behind you, both her and mom jogging up to the woman who you now assume is the third mother in this get-together.
“oh you two, it’s been too long,” the black-haired woman greets. “and you both are still lookin’ fine!”
“zianna, it’s so good to see you!”
“what’s with the slang?” you lean over and mutter to aphmau, who rolls her eyes.
“that must be where my mom learned it from, it’s been nonstop with her, too.”
suddenly the cheery voice is closer.
“oh! and look at you two! you two became so beautiful, like little dolls! lookin’ just like your pretty mamas! you all are going to have so much fun together!”
“oh, um thank you, it’s nice to meet you-“ you start.
“it’s nice to meet you! wait… you ‘all’? great. so we’re babysitting multiple brats.”
you turn to glance at aphmau warily. now why would you say that…
“well, i wouldn’t exactly call us brats.” a familiar deep and smooth voice causes you to jump as you spin back around towards the source.
garroth stands tall as usual, today wearing a dark teal carhartt jacket over a white tee and some loose tan cargo pants and white sneakers to pair. his fluffy hair is tucked under a baseball hat with the pdh emblem and a small captain embroidered along the side. behind him were two slightly shorter boys, their faces filled with a tad more youth based on the baby fat that still clung to their cheeks.
one had a lovely shade of chocolatey brown hair and shared the same warm green eyes as their mother. he had a kind, friendly face, one of childish friendliness and openness that hadn’t been squandered by teenage years.
the other was… starkly different from the others. straight, dark black hair covered the right side of his face, hiding the rest of the rather cute freckles that splayed across his cheeks and nose. his strikingly icy blue eyes and pale—almost nearly translucent looking—skin contrasted against the rest of his dark outfit and features. he looked the least athletic out of the other two, his loose hoodie swallowing and hiding what looked like a thin and gangly frame underneath.
“wha- i- garroth?” aphmau stutters out, her jaw dropping in complete shock. “what are you doing here?”
“huh. so you’re the other kids. that’s funny.” i smile. “who would’ve thought our moms were friends?”
“i… oh…” aphmau finally catches on, her thin eyebrows raising in surprise.
an annoyed sigh comes from the black-haired kid, who you can now safely assume is garroth’s brother. “so, these are the brats we have to babysit?”
you wrinkle your nose and narrow your eyes at his complaint. well, aren’t you just a ball of sunshine?
“babysit?” you echo.
he doesn't seem older than you. in fact it would be safe to assume he was younger considering the higher, nasally, middle-schooler voice he had.
“hey, not-alone buddy!” the other brother cheeses in aphmau’s direction, baby cheeks squishing against his smile and crinkling his eyes.
“mom, are you kidding me? these guys also go to my school!” aphmau looks back at her mother.
“oh, how did we not talk about that?” your mom giggles, the other ladies laughing along with her.
“i had no idea your boys went to the same school as my daughter!”
“oh, samesies! that’s so adorable!” zianna cheers. as she smiles i can see where that brown-haired boy got his energetic grin from.
“i guess that means we have a lot to catch up on. ready for our jog?”
“yep! ok, kids, have fun together!” zianna turns to the emo brother. “remember, zuzu, i want you to try at least one sport with your brothers and new friends while you’re here at the park! we need to toughen you up, but not so much that you aren’t so tough for mommy kisses!”
under the black hair, you can see his pale skin turn to a bright red in embarrassment.
“mom! stop embarrassing me!” he complains. his voice has a slight whine to it.
“i love you too, zuzu! you kids play nice!” she airily smiles and waves, already beginning to walk backward from us, to which your and aphmau’s moms follow.
“be good! text me if there’s an emergency!” your mom waves to you, seemingly excited about the meetup despite being much more mellow than the other two women.
you smile and wave to her before holding a thumbs up. “kay!”
“do you still listen to beyoncé, zianna?”
“are you kidding me? i brought this portable speaker so we could listen to her while we run! it’s gonna be the bomb dot com!”
“word, yo!”
…
and they’re gone.
“oh wow.” the youngest boy sighs.
“can mom get any more embarrassing?”
“hm. so that’s where my mom learned to talk like that. i see.” aphmau says, raising her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes in accusation.
“uhh, i’m pretty sure your mom rubbed off on our mom.” garroth pipes in.
“more than likely they both rubbed off on each other and it just started escalating.”
“hey, garroth!” you finally greet, gathering your bearings and waving to the tall boy.
his eyebrows raise and his eyes soften to the look of an adorable puppy dog. he gives a small smile, back waving at you and chirping your name in greeting. you turn to look at garroth’s brothers.
“ah, i haven’t met you two yet,” you introduce yourself. “it’s nice to meet you two.”
“yeah, whatever. now we’re stuck in this stupid park in the stupid sun.” the dark-haired boy slinks away from you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
you have to stop your jaw from dropping in bewilderment. is this boy really garroth’s little brother? there’s no way they share an ounce of dna.
“hey baby brother, where are you going?” garroth questions, his lips dropping into a disappointed frown as he follows the scrawny boy.
“i’m going to sit under a tree. on my phone. and as isolated from you four as possible.”
you glance at the other brother, who offers a sheepish smile.
“i’m vylad, it’s nice to meet you too… sorry about zane.”
you shrug your shoulders awkwardly.
“um… it’s no problem. nice to meet you, vylad-“
“nope! come on now, you heard mom. we need to get you into a sport.”
“i’m not doing it.”
garroth and—as vylad kindly introduced for you—zane have begun to talk a bit more heatedly from the tree zane decided to stubbornly plop himself under.
“yes, you are.”
“why should i?”
garroth looks down in contemplation, before looking up at zane with an almost mischievous expression.
“because if you don’t, i’ll hug you in front of the entire school every chance i get. for the rest of the year.”
you three spectators snicker in amusement as zane looks down in annoyance.
“…i hate you, garroth.”
oh.
“aww, zane! you should just tell your brother you love him.” aphmau laughs, a bit nervously at that.
“shut up you girl-woman-thing!”
“girl-woman-thing?” you deadpan, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.
“uhh… so, vylad! pick a sport.” aphmau quickly recovers.
“easy! soccer!”
garroth has walked back to us. he’s smiling, but the corners of his mouth turn into something that looks more dejected.
“are you sure? i was thinking base-“
“oh my gosh! i love soccer, vylad!” aphmau gasps.
“really? you should’ve said something when you were talking about it with laurance. you should try out for the team,” garroth starts tugging off his jacket, tossing it onto the nearby bench.
“i played a lot of soccer as a kid, so i wanted to try something new. like track, maybe. i still really love soccer, though!” she looks back to where the parking lot is. “i actually have a soccer ball in my mom’s car, i’ll go get it.”
“okay, i know a perfect spot in the park to play on!” vylad agrees, excitedly beginning to walk down the sidewalk. “it’s further down this way.”
you nod, glancing over at aphmau. she waves you on along with the brothers, already walking off to the parked cars.
“alright! you guys go, and i’ll meet you there, okay?”
you split off from her, following the boys down the pavement before remembering garroth’s teal carhartt still on the bench.
“oh!”
you spin back around jogging and retrieving the jacket before catching up to garroth. it’s heavier than expected, and you jokingly pretend to use it as a dumbbell before handing it off to him.
“i threw a baseball in my pocket and my phone is in there, so thanks,” he sheepishly accepts it, tucking it over the crook of his elbow.
“while aphmau and your brothers play soccer—“
zane sighs in annoyance from behind you.
“—do you want to play catch? i’ll probably drop it more than i actually catch it, but…”
garroth chuckles, reaching up to softly facepalm in amusement.
“sure, i’ll throw softly.”
you clap your hands quietly, turning to the younger boy that you had finally caught up to.
“so, vylad, right? are you in aphmau’s class or something?” you inquire, wondering where the edge lord behind you fits into the equation.
“yep! i transferred from o’khasis prep cause the commute was too far, and i got to move up a grade cause i had pretty good grades.”
“oh! that’s cool,” you glance back at garroth. “i thought i heard that o’khasis accent.”
garroth’s eyes widen for a split moment as the tips of his ears begin to redden. vylad giggles a bit, finally stopping in front of a pretty field with freshly trimmed and thick grass. conveniently, it also has two goals set up on either side for community use.
“yeah, zane and i actually got homeschooled for a bit and didn’t catch on to the accent, so garroth is mainly the one who still kinda has it from when we lived there.”
you hum in understanding, glancing back at the boy who was readjusting his hat and scratching the nape of his neck.
“i didn’t know i still had one.”
“it’s nice.”
you’d almost forgotten that the emo kid was there until he sighed again, looking around for a shady spot to retreat to. before he could walk away, garroth yanks him back by the hoodie, pulling him into a forced side hug. zane makes a noise of discomfort, a sound mixed with annoyance and disgust.
“no, you’re gonna play with vylad and aphmau.”
zane glares over at the brown-haired brother who has wandered a little off into the field. he holds out a thumbs up, smiling as he squints through the sun's rays.
“why don’t you actually say something nice to her?” garroth pinches zane’s shoulder.
shockingly light blue eyes glare at you through straight, dark lashes, narrowing at you in pure annoyance.
“hi,” he tensely greets, jaw immediately clenching.
“hi…” you awkwardly return, before pointing towards your cheeks. “um, i like your freckles…?”
the boy’s nose wrinkles, seemingly not liking the cute undertones your compliment implied. despite the look of refusal and defiance that he gives you, his whole face begins to grow pink.
“okay?” he snarkily responds, looking at you like you had just said the sky was green.
“go with vylad,” garroth groans, releasing him and lightly pushing him forward, causing him to stumble out into the grassy field.
he catches his footing, shooting a sharp glare back to garroth and flashing him with his middle finger, black rings and nails contrasting against the pale skin. garroth shrugs at him, completely unphased.
“i’m sorry about him, he’s uh… going through,” he gestures at the boy in black now skulking over to vylad who was jumping around like a goofball. “uh, whatever that is.”
you shake your head with a dry laugh, shrugging your shoulders.
“it’s fine, it’s not your fault.”
he sighs, frowning at his younger brothers.
“yeah well…” he begins, trailing off before shaking his head. “never mind.”
“i got it!” you hear aphmau announce, her small footsteps bounding up to you and stomping to a stop right next to you, soccer ball in her hands. “you playing?”
“we’re not that good at soccer, so we were gonna let you and vylad teach zane while we play catch over here,” garroth pulls out the baseball from his pocket… and then reaches into the hidden inner lining of his jacket and pulls out two baseball gloves.
how did he hide those in there?
aphmau blinks, before shrugging and excitedly running off into the field with a chirpy, “okay then!”
garroth smiles at you before looking down at the two gloves, handing you the slightly smaller and much more worn one.
“this one was from when i was younger. it’ll fit you better and it's worn in already, so it’ll be easier to catch.”
“oh, thanks.”
he nods, tossing up the ball in his hand and catching it as he paces a little distance away from you. he lightly spins the baseball between his fingers before nodding at you to get ready. you lift the glove up, feeling a bit nervous as the broad-shouldered baseball captain stands in front of you.
“what position do you play, garroth?”
“pitcher.”
he throws the ball your way. it’s still dauntingly fast, and your whole face unwillingly flinches as the ball smacks against the glove. you can tell he barely put any force into it, too, which makes you feel bad for anyone who has to bat up against him.
“i can tell,” you meekly respond, holding the ball between your first two fingers and your thumb.
“sorry…i thought i threw that soft,” garroth smiles, a small entertained laugh leaving his lips.
you shake your head sheepishly, throwing the ball back and watching as it satisfyingly lands in garroth’s glove.
“not bad,” he throws the ball back, a bit slower this time. “how do you like phoenix drop so far?”
“uhhh—“ you think of your recent detention and put a little more force into your throw. “it’s okay.”
“just okay?”
“well, it’s school. and i guess there’s a few good people who have made it better so far.”
you deadpan back at him when he doesn’t throw back the ball, instead humming and readjusting his cap while looking at you expectantly
“yes, you’re one of them.”
he grins cheekily, tossing the ball back in satisfaction.
“cool.”
“i can run.” you hear zane protest, and you turn to look at the group. aphmau is slowly backing up, arms crossed as she watches him glare at his polar opposite brother.
“…really?”
“away from you.”
you glance back at garroth before both of you silently agree to walk closer. you both pause near aphmau, who is picking at her nails.
“sorry… i knew you were excited to play soccer,” garroth apologizes for his brother’s behavior once again, glaring over at the boy’s attitude.
“it’s,” she sighs. “fine. at least he’s giving it a chance? he always seems so lonely in class.”
garroth shrugs, looking on at his brothers with a complex of emotions on his face.
“yeah, but he likes to be alone, so i try to respect it. he’s my little brother, so it’s not like i can parent him out of being that way, even if i try.”
you watch his side profile as he stares at his younger brothers. he looked so fond of them… but strangely distant.
“no! i don’t want to play with you vylad!”
“fine…” vylad sighs, his tone dejected. “then garroth can kick to you.”
“hell no!”
“what’s going on?” garroth walks forward, aphmau and i trailing behind.
“zane being emo,” vylad shoots a glare at his peeved brother. “he doesn’t want me or you to kick the ball to him.”
“it’s stupid.”
“you just don’t want garroth or i to show you up.”
“shut up.”
“i’ll kick with you, zane,” aphmau pipes up, nervously stepping forward.
zane looks at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter.
“you? you couldn’t kick the ball to me from where you are right now with those twinkle-toe-looking short-ass kid legs.”
you hate that the corner of your mouth twitches in amusement.
“zane,” garroth says, his tone threateningly even and deep as he shoots an irritated glare at the boy. “that’s rude.”
aphmau walks forward, grabbing the ball from vylad. she sets out on the ground before kicking the ball right by zane’s shoulders and into the goal’s net.
“you're supposed to block it, by the way.”
“that was just a practice run.”
vylad walks towards you and garroth, though his eyes are trained on his older brother’s, his excitement from before now turned into a disappointed frown. garroth’s hand claps onto vylad’s shoulder, patting the younger boy assuredly with a sigh.
thwack!
your attention is suddenly pulled back to the mood-killer of the day, only to find him crumpled on the ground with his hand to his face. garroth, who saw the whole thing, doubles over in silent laughter and uses vylad to keep him upright.
“damn,” vylad says, before joining garroth in his giggles.
“oh… my… i’m so sorry!” aphmau apologizes frantically, her hand slapping over her mouth.
you sigh, jogging towards zane as a strange feeling of pity fills your stomach. he sits himself up, hands still on his head when you reach your hand out for him to take. he flinches when he realizes you’ve walked up to him, his lip curling and hands winding back like he was getting ready to slap it away.
“just take the hand, dude.”
a second passes before his bony hand slaps onto yours, digging uncomfortably into your skin as you help him get back on his feet.
“you good?”
he glares off at his brothers, eyes pricked with tears no doubt from getting hit square in the face. his pale skin was irritated and splotched red, his only exposed eye beginning to swell.
“yeah, it just stings,” he trudges ahead of you and off the field, sitting on a nearby bench.
“i have to say, i wasn’t expecting you to catch the ball with your face!” garroth laughs at the younger boy.
“shut up, garroth!”
aphmau catches up, stopping in front of zane with a petrified look on her face.
“oh my gosh, zane, i am so so so so sorry!” she rambles, hands coming up to cover her mouth.
“you did that on purpose.”
“no, i swear i didn’t! i’m just not good at aiming!”
“you could’ve told me that before you fully sent the ball hurling towards my head.”
“i’m so sorry. are you okay?”
“i’m fine.”
“yeah, his other eye got messed up from—“ vylad starts, before getting cut off by a warning look from zane.
you happen to glance over at garroth, who has a deep frown on his face. he notices your stare, and immediately his expression shifts back to his normal passiveness.
“well, this definitely calls for a break. i’m glad you at least tried it out, zane.”
zane rolls his eyes, only to make a small groaning sound and hold his head.
“whatever.”
you look around, noticing a bathroom building that had a vending machine outside of it. without saying anything you jog off towards it, leaving behind your group. reaching in your pocket, you snag some cash you had taken with you, sliding it into the machine and pressing down on the water button.
quickly, you grab the water and jog back, seeing that the moms have returned from their run.
“oh, he’ll be fine, he has two brothers, and zane’s been through much worse.”
you wave to your mom, before holding the water bottle out near the boy’s face.
“here. it’ll help with the swelling.”
“well, aren’t you just a sweetheart! you should take notes from her, zuzu.” zianna gushes, coming up to you and cupping one of your cheeks adorably in her hand.
zane sighs, holding the water bottle up to the side of his face, letting the cold condensation soothe the sensitive skin.
“thanks,” he grumbles and you nod in response, waving off the gesture like it was nothing.
“oh-em-gee, this is totes deja vu! remember that time that aphmau did this exact same thing to zane when the kids were playing dodgeball in the old neighborhood?”
“that’s totes right!”
“yes, i remember! they were all the cutest little kids back then!”
you glance back at aphmau and the three boys, who look just as confused as you feel. as you lock eyes with aphmau, something clicks, and you remember the childhood photograph on her wall.
slowly, your jaw drops, eyes widening in realization.
“huh?” she questions, looking concerned by your sudden expression.
“the picture!”
she blinks, before her head whips back to garroth and then to the other two.
“the picture!”
“what picture? we just met you guys?” vylad looks between you two and the women giggling behind you, amused by the whole situation. “what are you talking about, mom?”
she breaks out into more giggles.
“oh, don’t tell me you don’t remember each other?”
sylvanna catches her breath from her own amusement, placing a hand on her chest.
“we lived in the same neighborhood when you guys were all so tiny. you played with each other every week!”
“oh, girl. i was so devastated when the two of you moved away!” zianna frowns at the memory.
the five of you teenagers gawk at the information, jaws hanging open in shock.
“you know, i actually do vaguely remember. aphmau wore that red dress all the time,” garroth glances at you. “and i remember playing t-ball with you.”
you furrow your eyebrows, trying to recall the memory and getting a few glimpses of your childhood.
“oh yeah…”
“well, they were pretty little, so it’s no wonder they don’t really remember,” your mom laughs, glancing at you. “you were such a worried and cautious kid even when you were little. you cried more when the boys or aphmau did when they got hurt, trying to make sure they were okay.”
“yes, i remember that! she’d come running back to the house asking for bandaids that weren’t even for her all the time, the little medic. seems like that hasn’t changed.”
“this is so cute! i had no idea you guys didn’t remember each other! we should have dinner over at my place tonight so we can all catch up!” zianna squeals, grabbing onto sylvanna and your mom in excitement.
“that sounds wonderful! we’ll head home to wash up and i’ll bring a dish or something.”
“same here, we’ll be there!” your mom smiles.
“ooh, please bring those quesadillas, sylvanna,” zianna butchers the pronunciation, before turning to your mom. “and you should totes bring that yummy guac you used to make!”
“it’s que-sa-di-yas, zianna,” sylvanna playfully rolls her eyes.
“it’s delicious to me!” she claps her hands with a laugh.
“alright, we’ll see you later this evening then.”
“bye, girlfriends! let’s go boys, you’ve got some cleaning to do.”
you turn and wave to your—freshly reunited?—childhood friends, who seem equally as bewildered.
“uh, i guess we’ll talk later,” garroth waves back, robotically turning to walk with his energetic mother as the cogs still turn in his brain.
“see ya…?”
you and aphmau trail behind your moms, who are excitedly planning to drive together to the ro’meave home later.
“this is crazy. we became friends with them again without even knowing.”
“yeah…small world i guess.”
☆
“do i have to wear a dress?”
“yes, it’s a small dinner party and we need to look presentable,” your mom answers, turning to make sure your dad also kept his word on dressing decently. “plus, the ro’meaves are super rich…”
“what was that?”
“nothing! besides, it’s not like it’s a super fancy dress, you look so cute! do you have the guac bowl?”
“yes…”
she nods, ushering you and your dad out of the house and speed walking down the sidewalk. you both deadpan at each other, your dad scratching through his beard with a sigh.
“alright, if it makes your mom happy.”
you shrug, “and me.”
“that’s good enough for me, i guess.”
aphmau’s house smells good, the scent of chicken and beef quesadillas wafting through the air.
“oh mija, aphmau and one of her little friends from school are out back picking some hot peppers for the salsa, why don’t you go join them!” sylvanna points towards the back door, before leaning towards you. “and make sure there’s no flirting or funny business.”
you nod with a knowing smile, holding back a laugh at her insistent stare.
“okay, i’ll give you an update when i return, captain.”
you slip out of the sliding glass doors as the adults start to talk, looking around before spotting a garden to your left. you step off the deck, following a pretty mosaic stone trail to the intricate, fenced-in veggies and flowers. after stepping into the gate, you admire all the terra-cotta and talavera pots, as well as a lime and orange tree in the mix. everything seemed almost overgrown, but so carefully groomed and placed that you could tell it was well cared for.
“hey guys,” you greet, spotting aphmau in a cute red dress and headband, as well as that white-haired kid from your first day. “oh, and hey travis! good to see you again.”
his eyes widen, before he shoots a brace-filled smile your way, earnestly greeting you with a call of your name.
“good to see you too! so you’re going to vylad’s house, huh? that’s crazy.”
“i know, right? none of us remembered each other at all.”
“yeah, super weird,” aphmau shakes her head analyzing the jalapeños she picked in her hand.
“i think it’s super cool! you have a little connection to someone you didn’t even know was there.”
you smile at him. “yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it.”
“yeah, garroth is almost unrecognizable from the childhood photos,” aphmau trails.
“stop drooling,” travis deadpans at the girl, laughing as she flusteredly panics in response.
“i’m not!”
“you totally were. but hey, i don’t blame you! lots of girls have a crush on him.”
“no kidding,” you monotone, an image of ivy’s twisted face popping into your mind.
“i do not have a crush on him,” she defends, though the red on her cheeks betray her.
“uh-huh, sure,” travis drawls out sarcastically, turning to laugh with you when aphmau hisses at him to stop again.
he puts his hands up in defense, backing up when he’s threatened with a jalapeño to the face. the two of you let your giggles fiddle out, before travis seemingly remembered something important, his lips flattening into a serious line.
“hey, i heard you two were with gene and his gang a while ago… is that true?”
“oh, i mean we did “meet them”, i guess. but we didn’t really talk to them.”
“oh, okay. good. i was kinda worried.”
“where did you hear that?” aphmau stutters, dusting off her clothes as she stands back up, seemingly satisfied with her selection of peppers.
“dante told me. he said gene mentioned it or something. he didn’t say anything bad, but he was talking about you two,” he reaches up to fiddle with a strand of his hair by his ear, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “i just… know they’re not the best influences, so i wanted to check on you guys. dante really looks up to gene, but i don’t think he knows the kind of stuff he gets up to.”
“thanks, travis. that’s really nice of you.”
he nervously laughs, shrugging his shoulders.
“i mean yeah. i haven’t gotten to know you that well but aphmau’s my not-alone-buddy, so if you guys are good friends i’d like to look out for you, too.”
your chest feels warm as you smile at him.
“thanks. i’ll look out for you, too.”
“oh! that reminds me travis, how’s theatre club?”
“ooh, you joined?”
“yeah, i did!” travis stutters, eyes lighting up. “it’s going really great. hey, you know the girl with blue hair that hit me in the face on the first day?”
“katelyn?”
“uh, yeah! she stops by and visits the club sometimes…” his cheeks grow to a warm shade of red.
“sounds like you have a crush, travis.”
“wha—no, i mean—!” he sputters, scratching the back of his neck. “i mean she is really cute… but she has a boyfriend already.”
you blink. katelyn has a boyfriend?
“really? who?”
“his name is jeffory. goldwyn is his last name, i think. he’s a really good-looking senior so i don’t even have a chance.” he sighs.
you hum in pity and understanding for the boy, recalling the tall, smiley, and handsome upperclassman who had stopped by volleyball practice a few times. he had pretty eyes and brown hair, and he seemed super friendly and charming from the few times you said hello. now that you think about it, he did really only hang around katelyn when he did come by the gym.
“so i’m not even gonna try anything. she is really pretty, though.”
“maybe one day,” you halfheartedly encourage with a shrug of your shoulders. “uh… not wishing on her to break up with him or anything—“
travis laughs, face brightening again from the small dejected pout that had begun to form on his lips.
“hey!” sylvanna calls from the porch, her projected voice startling the three of you. “what’s taking you three so long?! we have to get going soon! dios mío…”
“coming, mom!” aphmau calls giving you two a look before shuffling out of the garden with her peppers in hand. “guess we lost track of time.”
“yeah, better not make your mom mad,” travis mutters, quickly falling behind the girl before leaning over to whisper to you. “she kinda scares me.”
you laugh at him, stepping through the sliding doors into the house. dad quickly scopes out the boy, making himself known by very firmly grasping his shoulder and reaching out to shake his hand. you watch as travis’s soul nearly leaves his body, face paling at the gruff-looking man in front of him.
“how’re you doin’ kid? what’s your name?”
“uh—hello sir,” travis stutters, quickly shaking his hand. “it’s travis.”
your dad pauses, squinting down at him uncertainly.
“what’s your last name?”
“va—valkrum… sir?”
“huh. you terry’s boy?”
“you know my dad?”
“yeah. we were old buddies a while back when you were just about to here in height,” dad gestures to his knees with his hand. “i thought you looked familiar.”
you glance over at sylvanna and mom, who are staring at each other with shocked looks on their faces.
“well, nice to meet you, son. you need a ride home?”
travis freezes with his mouth open, trying to muster up words.
“if it’s not out of your way, that would be nice.”
he nods, before leaving the poor boy be—as he was almost quaking in place. when your dad is out of earshot he leans over to you again, face still pale.
“your dad scares me more.”
©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own
tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky
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