"Comin' in hot, eh?" Robb asked over the top of his sunglasses as their belated sister exited her car after flying through the parking lot, clocking in over twenty minutes late. "If you had been any later, we had already decided to see if you had a hickey as an excuse," her oldest brother teased, pushing her head to the side to inspect her neck.
"Gross!" the girl scoffed. Gratefully, her brothers abandoned the explanation for her tardiness and rambled on about Jon's moving, Robb and his girlfriend Jeyne, who was a nursing student at Harren's Hall, and Sansa moving to Aunt Lysa's.
The oldest, more serious brother swore the duo to secrecy halfway through lunch before spilling the details of how he was going to propose to Jeyne later in the week. Arya was thrilled for Robb, although she didn't know much about the studious, taking-more-classes-than-normal-people-to-finish-early Jeyne. Jon was genuinely happy for his brother and joked that he was only sorry that he wouldn't be around for the wedding planning, suggesting that the two elope so that he wasn't the only one to miss the wedding. Robb laughed that the idea, ultimately Jeyne's decision, was actually a good one.
Full of Chinese, the trio made the short trip to Jon's apartment. Arya felt like she had won the lotto when Jon gave her free reign to take whatever she wanted, from t-shirts to his convertible. Robb agreed to take over the rent when Jon moved to establish a place of his own before he was married, whenever that happened. "Plus," their eldest brother reasoned, "These dishes are the perfect pattern to offset the wallpaper."
Arya trekked home later that evening, completely exhausted and joyful. She carefully masked her delight so that Catelyn didn't ask too many questions. After a quick shower, the wet-headed girl looked at her phone again, wishing that she'd just give in and text Gendry but succumbing to her own stubbornness and turning off the screen again. She reasoned that he had been the one to force himself on her, so he could apologize first.
Monday turned into Tuesday, then Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and the ignored young woman felt her heart equally wretch into anger and despondency over the lack of contact from her best friend. Gendry had made a point to avoid Arya altogether; she had only glimpsed him twice during the week and had to resort to asking Bran to ask about him.
Had Gendry been the only barren spot in her life, Arya may have been able to cope, but the ever elusive Jaqen had also gone radio silent with the girl. By Friday night, the debased teen barked at her sister at the dinner table and earned a lovely weekend grounding to round out her perfectly atrocious week.
She slipped into one her favorite t-shirts that declared, "I Prefer The Drummer" when she retreated to the safety of her own bedroom. Fiddling with her pocket knife, morphed into tearing up an unloved shirt into strips that were cut, folded and then safety pinned into a poor man's version of the holster Jaqen wore that would hold her pocket knife in the high tops. Excited by her first successful version, the enthusiastic girl fashioned a way to secure the small knife to the inside of her bra, gleefully twisting one way and then the other to prove that it couldn't be seen.
Bursting with unbridled pride, she took a picture of the calf contraption and sent it to the assassin for his approval.
Clever girl.
Arya grinned at the message. I know. Productive week? There had to be some kind of progress with Joffrey.
You cannot rush something that needs to be done right.
A little part of hope inside of Arya broke free and fell away. Why did this guy have to say things like her dad did; things that made sense and were infuriating at the same time? Fine. Grounded, no training for me.
Push-ups. Sit-ups. 100 each. Arya laughed and then slid down to the carpet to get to work. After twelve push-ups, the girl switched from her fatigued arms and rolled to her back. Seventeen sit-ups later, the teenager lay panting on her floor thinking that there was no way she could do it. Rather than broadcast her failure, she chose not to send another text to Jaqen.
The only reprieve Arya had for the weekend was Jon's visit for dinner on Sunday night. It was the first time since their father's wake that her brother known by a different last name was invited to sit among his siblings for one last time before his departure. The dark-haired girl was delighted to fling a pea at Jon when Catelyn bent to retrieve her napkin.
Again, the week passed similar to the one before, with rare sightings of her apparently former best friend. Arya's school days were bleak and her lunch periods even more lonesome. The few times she saw the tall boy, he was surrounded by his brotherhood of baseball players, horsing around and being ridiculous; it was if he was acting absurd just to prove a point that he didn't need her around. She ached to go back to how they used to be. She just wanted to be Arya and have him be stupid Gendry.
Every night, despite the burning muscles, the girl concentrated on doing more push-ups and sit-ups than the previous night. By the time the following Friday night came, Arya triumphantly could do forty of each. She traced a henna design she had seen online onto her hand in black, permanent marker instead of working on her homework when she became morose over the fact that Jon was leaving in a matter of days, followed by graduation, Sansa's move (which she wasn't torn up about at all), and then Robb and their mother's trip to the wedding. Not to mention the fact that Robb was moving out AND newly engaged. Or that Sansa would neither confirm nor deny if, in fact, Sandor would be leaving town. Bran was getting a new, composite wheelchair. Rickon, well, he just was content to climb trees. Meanwhile, Arya was left to draw up her arm with the marker, knowing full well of the disdainful look she'd receive from her mom.
Saturday, after a preemptive explanation that the ink would wash off before Monday, Arya told her mom that she was going to spend the day with Jon, cleaning the apartment for Robb, who had disappeared with his new fiancée for the weekend. And when he returned to move in on Sunday afternoon, Robb surprised his siblings by introducing his wife, having taken his brother's advice and eloping. Sunday dinner was altogether polite and terse, the matriarch's clipped irritation for being kept from the wedding, painfully obvious. Robb and Jeyne stayed at a local bed and breakfast, against the weak protests from Catelyn, for the next two days until Jon vacated.
Tuesday morning, Catelyn called the school and advised them that Arya was sick. It was true, in a sense; the girl had only known more misery when her father was murdered. As hard as she tried, the younger sister could not contain her tears when Jon pulled her in and hugged her as if it were the last time that they would see each other. "Be good, little wolf," he whispered into her curls, sounding every bit like their father.
"Never," she fiercely croaked back. When her favorite brother boarded the bus, Arya swore her heart left with him. As the bus pulled away, the girl felt like everything good had been ripped from her life: her dad, Gendry, Jon. Before the transport even made the first corner, Arya wished Jon was back.
Hours later, curled up in misery, Arya received a text. I have business. I will be back. And just like that, the enigmatic Jaqen vanished, leaving the girl with nothing but her melancholy as company
Dismal and friendless weeks later, the dark-haired girl sat alongside her family at the graduation ceremony for her older sister. She cared little for the pomp and circumstance of the day, the fact that her beautiful and graceful sister graduated with top grades with numerous colored cords and sashes or that the weather was perfect; Arya hyper-focused on the tall boy who sat deep in the sea of blue graduation robes. Her fingers folded and refolded together as Gendry strode across the stage to receive his diploma. She wished he would look up in the stands for her, silently willed him to do it, and grieved when he laughed and waved at friends among the graduates. As caps were flung high, Arya bolted from her seat and through the railing to find Gendry.
Attention unwavering as she dodged hugging bodies and camera driven families, her feet skidded to a stop in the grass of the football field when Gendry was just out of reach. A pang of guilt plucked at her lonely heart; he looked so happy, content really, with his other friends and she sensed that she didn't belong there. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and dropping her head so that no one saw her tears, Arya turned and retreated to find her family. Her breath caught when her elbow was grabbed by a warm, calloused hand and the girl wiped her eyes before turning.
"Hey," the towering boy greeted, blue eyes searching her face, making Arya feel wretched and insignificant at the same time.
"Hey," she replied, sniffing and putting on a brave smile just before being swallowed into a hug, her own blue graduation gown cocoon. Arya wrapped her arms around his waist when she felt his lips press into the top of her curls. They would be okay; it might be awkward for a while, but they would be okay and that is all that mattered to the relieved girl.
The towering boy trailed his redeemed friend towards her family and politely made his way through the introductions. From the corner of her eye, Arya could see the brooding, scarred man that stood on the fringes of the crowd…the one that kept Sansa's attention partially captivated and a rosy blush in her cheeks. Much to Arya's surprise, Catelyn invited Gendry to their home when she heard that he hadn't been able to get a ticket to Sober Grad. "A bit beyond my finances," he had nervously laughed.
When Sansa waved goodbye to her family, having changed into clothes for the Sober Grad party that departed from the school via bus, the ginger's bright blue eyes kept darting towards the parking lot. Arya caught sight of Sandor and elbowed Gendry before nodding her head in the man's direction. The younger sister wiggled her eyebrows and uncharacteristically hugged Sansa. "Tell Sandor hello," Arya whispered into her sister's ear. Sansa paled and then pasted on a civil smile before latching onto her friend's arm and retreating towards the gym. Sandor saluted the younger Stark girl with his middle finger when she discretely, yet mockingly, waved.
It was the best night Arya had ever had in the past year as Catelyn and Jeyne gladly toiled in the kitchen making snacks for the rowdy boys and contented girl who boisterously battled on video games. After Robb and Jeyne left for the evening, Catelyn told Gendry that he could use Robb's bedroom for the evening, as long as he called his foster parents to let them know, which he immediately did. Something tingled inside of Arya when Gendry hung up the phone, knowing he would be under the same roof that night. She shoved the thought far, far away, terrified of losing her best friend again. She would trade any feeling, any stupid, sweltering whatever-it-was to keep Gendry in her life.
Around midnight, Catelyn retired to her room after waking Rickon and pushing him up the stairs. Bran nodded off on the couch during a movie, sometime after two in the morning, leaving the best friends perched on opposite lounge chairs, staring at each other as the credits rolled. Arya put her fingers to her lips and motioned for the boy to follow, praying that he wouldn't trip and wake up the house as they made their way outside.
There was no moonlight, so the duo alternately giggled and shushed their way towards the gate by the light of their phone screens. Arya lay down on the grass, forcing the maddening notions of the boy's hands under her babblings about the constellations. "I'm sorry," she muttered after Orion and before proceeding to Cassiopeia to the boy lying next to her.
"Me too," Gendry sighed, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers. There was something about the silence, the way he was breathing, that made Arya nervous, his hesitation apparent. "I'm leaving in a couple of weeks," he admitted. It was too dark to see his face, which made the girl grateful that he could not see the disappointment all over her own. He quietly plowed on, explaining that he had enlisted in the military, as it seemed the only viable option once he turned eighteen in ten days.
Arya propped herself up on one elbow. "But I don't want you to leave me." Fumbling forward, she ignored the mental shouts to stop and felt her way to Gendry's cheek before leaning down to kiss him the way that she had wanted to be kissed the first time, gently...longingly. In the darkness and awkward scrabbling, their kiss deepened and the ardent girl gladly wanted to drown in the burn from within. Arya thrust herself onto his chest and found her body pushed away by strong arms.
"Aaaahh. Not here," Gendry rasped, holding her tiny frame at arm's length while she struggled to climb closer. "Arya," he reasoned, breathing her name calmly, telling her to stop. His chest rumbled in laughter. "I can't believe I just said that." The boy stood and suggested that they go back to the house and sleep before offering a hushed explanation, "It's not that I don't want to…I just…I'm not going to screw this up again."
"You're stupid," she mumbled. In the end, they settled onto the opposite chairs in front of another movie. Gendry fell asleep quickly and Arya grinned when she heard him snore. The resolute girl decided that she wouldn't try that again, that kissing that seemed to consume her from the inside out, even though the thought hovered every time she looked at his relaxed body, slouched down in the chair.
Her phone vibrated from her pocket just as Arya had fallen asleep. Her annoyance evaporated once she read the message.
Sleep, lovely girl. We have plans to make.
A/N: Thank you to those that have stopped by and posted reviews. This has been a blast to write and there are some fantastic turns ahead! ~JS
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