"Well what?" Cato asked, demand heavy in his tone.
"Umm..." Glimmer started, shifting uncomfortably. "I guess the whole mom's death thing was really rough on Clove and Luke didn't really know how to deal." Cato stole another glance at the tanned quarterback, whose presence radiated with charisma. The confidence seemed to give even Marvel a run for his money, though at the moment, it hardly seemed like a difficult task. Instead of sporting his regular lopsided grin, even Marvel seemed to be glaring at Luke. The general consensus towards him seemed to be overwhelmingly negative.
"There's something you're not telling me," Cato muttered, looking right into Glimmer's eyes and observing the obvious dishonesty.
"Cato, not here," Glimmer whispered, a plea laced in her attempt at commanding the male. No one else had noticed their squabble, having stood a few feet further. The tension had risen in the air, contributing to what had already thickened from the appearance of Luke.
"Do not tell me what to do," Cato hissed through his clenched jaw, evoking a fear in Glimmer. She had yet to see the angry side of him, though his annoyance had always made a frequent appearance. He withdrew his arm out of her grasp and turned to exit the building. He pushed through the doors with such force that the noise interrupted the group standing in the hallway, and Marvel turned to see a shaken up Glimmer. While the rest of the group returned to their conversation after the brief disruption, he walked towards the blonde who was avoiding eye contact with the rest of the group.
"Glimmer? You okay? What happened?" he asked, treading lightly at the girl, whose crossed arms signified a defense.
"Nothing, Marvel," she snapped. "Go back to the Clove celebration party."
"Glimmer," Marvel countered. "Hey. I'm not taking sides."
"Oh really?" Glimmer scowled, the venom obvious in her voice. "When was the last time you stuck up for me, Marvel? We used to be best friends."
"I am tired of watching you ruin yourself, Glimmer," he replied softly. "I can't-,"
"That's not fair, Marvel, you know I had a hard time with the divorce and-" Glimmer interjected, and Marvel's raised hand signified he wanted to hear no more.
"It wasn't fair to Clove either, Glim," he pointed out. "Luke was the first guy she trusted and you knew that, drunk or not."
Glimmer rolled her eyes, shifting her stance. "I don't owe her anything."
"You at least could try not to make her life a living hell, Glim," Marvel argued, but his expression softened as he looked down at his shoes. "He's only going to hurt you, you know."
She raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden statement. "He's not the first player I've hooked up with, Marv."
"Maybe not," Marvel shrugged. "But he's different."
"You don't have to worry about me, Marvel," she scoffed, a slight smirk forming on her lips. "They always come back for more, no matter what they came for in the first place."
The conversation was interrupted by the honk of a horn, where Mark had pulled up the black SUV in front of the building to pick his daughters up. Marvel sighed and turned in the direction of the student parking lot, knowing that nothing good could come out of the mess.
He walked onto the pavement lot, spotting Cato leaning on the hood of his car fumbling with what looked like a cigarette in his hand, and looking up to make eye contact with Marvel. He wore a sullen expression, one hand shoved in his pocket. "What are you looking at, Stone," he grumbled.
Marvel let out an amused, short laugh. "Easy there, Weston," he joked. "I'm not the one whose head you're after. He left right after you did."
"I don't have a problem with-"
"Calling bullshit, man," Marvel laughed. "Everyone hates Luke, don't worry."
"And why's that?" Cato asked in his disinterested, monotone voice as he put the cigarette out.
Marvel shrugged. "Same reason you do. He doesn't deserve Clove." He paused for a few seconds, studying Cato. "You're probably wondering why they aren't together."
"I don't really give a damn," Cato replied flatly.
"Right," the skepticism dripped from Marvel's voice, a half-smile on his lips. "Want some advice? Try that whole making friends thing. Hotshot new guy's not really her type." With that, he turned on his heel to get into his blue sports car, giving Cato a small wave and leaving the boy to himself .
"Cato? Cato, are you home?" Irene's voice called, triggered by the sound of the front door swinging open as the teenage boy entered. He threw his bag onto the floor and headed to the kitchen, wondering what the woman could possibly want. She stood behind the kitchen counter, an apron tied around her waist as she pushed her grey hair back from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Oh, good. Listen, I need you to do me a favor."
"Grandma, I have sh-"
"Cato Weston, I know what you're going to say, and I will throw your mattress into the front lawn if you continue," Irene warned, pointing her finger at him. "And you WILL do this. Your grandfather's graveyard hasn't had any flowers in a week, I've been too tired to go. Take these to him." She pushed a vase of lillies across the counter to him, waving at the boy to go. The old woman looked much more frail than usual as she gripped her spatula, but Cato failed to notice as he grumbled, taking the lillies.
"How am I gonna know which one's his?"
"It's the one in front of the largest angel," Irene explained. "Dinner will be ready when you get home."
He rolled his eyes, fishing his keys out of his pocket as he exited the house once more, vase in hand. The cemetery's vast expanse had caught his eye the first time he'd moved into Southampton, a serene green field of tombstones amongst a row of large houses. He pulled into the gated land, immediately spotting a large angel towering the rest of the smaller slabs as he parked on the nearest road. He'd never known William Weston, who passed away not long after Cato had been birthed. Of course, a nonexistent relationship with a family member was very much common to Cato, and it hardly bothered him to visit the grave of a man he'd never spoken a coherent word to.
As he walked to the cemetery, he heard the faintest sounds of a familiar voice talking, and turned his head to where it originated. He saw a familiar black ponytail and a girl sitting in front of a grave, her knees pulled close to her stomach as she appeared to be talking to the granite slab.
"We won, but you probably already knew that," he heard her say. "And dad was there, and so was Stella but I don't think she had a clue about what was going on."
He tried his hardest to keep the noise nonexistent-something about the serenity of the graveyard combined with her foreign, almost innocent and unguarded tone urged him to protect the moment's current state. His attempts were thwarted when his foot managed to find a twig, causing the girl to snap out of her conversational state as she looked to see who approached her. At the sight of Cato holding a vase of lillies, she raised an eyebrow, her guard resuming immediately. "What are you doing here?"
"Uhh... supposed to deliver these," he said, holding up the vase.
"It's that big dark one right in front of St. Michael," Clove replied, nodding at a specific lot. "I've seen your grandmother here a few times."
Cato stole a glance at the grave in front of her. Tracy Kensington: She did more than exist, she lived. She did more than listen, she understood. Rest peacefully, dear. He couldn't help but look at the stone, remembering the image of the woman he'd seen in the photograph of Clove's room. "Your mom?" he asked, nodding at the one she was standing next to.
She opened her mouth to deliver a bitter, scathing and sarcastic response, but turned to the grave before she had a chance to speak. Her mother would have wanted a different approach. "Yeah," she said, almost inaudibly. "She passed away last year."
I know, Cato thought, realizing he'd known much more about her than he really should have. "Oh. I'm sorry," Cato uttered out. "You were close?"
"You could say that." Clove bit her lip and nodded her head, toying with the hem of her shirt after squatting on the ground to a more comfortable position. "I'm guessing you heard some of our conversation," she laughed hollowly.
"And if I did?"
She shrugged. "Do what you will, as long as it doesn't involve pity."
"Would it kill you if someone sympathized with you?" he questioned, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"I find it hard to believe it's sympathy you're going for," she replied. "You've never visited his grave."
Cato shrugged, plopping down beside her without warning, placing the vase on the ground. He half-expected a protest from the girl, but she stayed silent, averting her gaze to her mother's tombstone. "Never really knew him. Not big into family."
"That's unfortunate," Clove commented. "Your grandmother visits him every Monday afternoon. Hasn't been around lately though." She couldn't fathom why she'd started a conversation with Cato. It lacked the usual sparring exchange, almost to the point where they were really, truly talking.
"She's tired, I guess," Cato muttered. "I'm sure she'll surrender soon and ship me back."
Clove raised her eyebrow. "Problem child?"
He laughed. "Just not the one they wanted," he confessed, his fingers fumbling with the blades of grass laying beneath him, yanking a few out. "I'm sure they'd trade me for Cassius in that mugging for anything."
She opened her mouth to say something, but could only stutter out an "Oh."
"They wanted a girl too, but Chloe died when we were born," he continued, almost as if he were talking to only himself-it was a mere soliloquy, and Clove was the audience. That was, until he turned his head and looked at Clove in the eyes. "It's great, isn't it. Wrecking everything you touch."
"Isn't that your intention?" she asked, returning his gaze before looking away.
He shrugged. "Only thing I really know how to do. Like I said, Cass was the golden child."
"You've never tried anything else."
"What makes you think that?" his voice grew the slightest bit louder, but the volume failed to phase Clove. It was almost like Cato had resumed to his usual ways.
"Just a guess," she shrugged. "If you have, it obviously didn't work."
"Maybe I like breaking everything," he responded. "You don't seem to be the one to step out of comfort zones either."
"Maybe I like hating everything," she replied, the slightest tone of a joke in her voice. He, too, surprisingly shared the laugh. "I'll admit. I don't like change."
"I wouldn't either if that was the kind," he said, nodding at the grave in front of them. He turned back to her, observing the way she seemed to be waging a war to keep her emotions at bay. The way she bit her lip nervously had given it away, accompanied by her inability to keep eye contact.
He couldn't understand why he found his hand slipping over hers, and she couldn't understand why she looked at the action and back at him without withdrawing from the contact. What perplexed both of them even more was how natural it felt-the way he leaned in, cupping her cheek and the way she seemed to meet him halfway. The movements progressed to him running a hand through her hair, her wrapping her own arms around his neck, as both of their lips parted willingly.
They had paused their games, if only for a moment, neither thinking of how their impulsive action would do what they both resented-it would change all they had known.
A/N: You all probably hate me... But I've just had writer's block the past few weeks and I really, really didn't want to give you a shitty chapter. You all deserve better than that. I really hope none of you gave up on me, because I think I've finally grasped a better sense of where I want to go with this story.
So please continue reviewing, even though I really don't deserve it. You've all been so loyal and I can't begin to thank you.
Follow me on tumblr, compliclato, and say hi to me there too! Because at least I can actually reply to comments there and we can talk and such.
To answer some questions from the reviews:
BigBirdIsCool - Southampton is this real town in New York, a very affluent area where a lot of the rich and famous buy vacation homes.
Melissa - you didn't ask a question, but I just wanted to tell you thank you for the constant support (: And that goes for every other reviewer as well.
ObviouslyAnnoyed - thank you SO, so much for that review. I don't know if I've reviewed yours yet, but I really need to, because I'm a HUGE fan of your piece.
Thank you guys, so much. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, I'll try for really soon. I'd hate to set a deadline and disappoint you guys because you truly deserve the world.
I love you all.
Rina