He'd be lying if he said her room was any different from what he expected. Light yellow walls that became vibrant in the strong sun, white bedsheets patched with warm orange stripes, a bookcase piled with texts on film theory and more Stephen King novels than Crow thought existed, another bookcase completely stacked with Blu-rays and obscure DVD'S, and an entire wall plastered with film posters. It was honestly quite scary to look that way and find a hundred pairs of eyes, mostly behind the gleam of a weapon, glaring back at you.
Spirited, flashy, intense. It was just what he imagined. It was her.
It was welcoming.
She throws her bag across the room, slumping back on her bed. "I'm so tired."
Crow sets his own bag down. "Why?"
"It's just been a long day."
"Oh really?" Crow begins scanning the pile of books. "What have you done?"
She kicks her boots off. "I got ten pages of the new script done." She says, sitting up to pull her coat from her arms. "Took me around two hours."
"Wow." Crow deadpans, pretending to look wide-eyed. "I only had to run three marathons today. How did you survive?"
He only sees the coat for a second, floating like a ghost, before his face is covered by green.
"It's not my fault you're a freak."
In the darkness, Crow chuckles. He's smiling by the time he pulls the coat off. "Takes one to know one."
Squirrel has an arched brow, as well as her boot armed back, ready to throw.
Crow gently puts the coat on her door. "So, what do you want to start with?" He unzips his bag, scrambling for his English textbook.
The ginger girl groans, but mercifully lets Crow's face go un-booted. "Ugh! Seriously! We just got out and you want to study!"
Crow rolls his eyes, but the laughter warms his throat. "That's kind of why I'm here, Squirrel." He looks to her door uneasily. "At least it's the only reason your mom didn't kill me." Sandstorm had been nice enough, told him that she'd heard nothing but great things about him from Squirrel (her daughter had denied that - blushing) but he could feel the warning squeeze as he shook her hand, and he could have sworn he'd seen her nod when he'd looked up in question.
The familiar flash of a mother's eyes. If you like your kneecaps in their normal place, no funny business.
She hadn't needed to say it. Crow had nodded vigorously. Message received.
"Oh, please." Squirrel sits up again, her hands slipping her hair back over her shoulders. "She'd kill you regardless. She's like a shark. And what do you mean? You don't hang out to study! That's like the opposite of hanging out!"
Crow paused, taking a seat beside her on the bed. Truthfully, he didn't care about studying. He was on course for an A, and as far as he knew so was Squirrel. But her parents wanted to make sure she kept on that road. It had been Leaf who had begged Crow to give her a hand. As much as she loved her sister, she had her own studying (and girlfriend) to see to. Squirrel apparently hadn't been too on board with the idea. It was 'too humiliating' apparently.
It was when Fireheart suggested asking Bramble to come back and help her that Squirrel finally resigned to texting Crow non-stop until he agreed.
He'd actually agreed after the first text.
Crow knew full well how little Squirrel wanted to see Bramble anymore. The idiot still hadn't mentioned Squirrel's film to her. Whenever he was mentioned Squirrel shifted and made a face that Crow hated to see her make.
He suspected that she still wasn't over him just yet.
And while that was understandable, it cut into Crow for more reasons than one.
That was why he wanted to make sure they got some work done. If her parents walked in and saw Crow wasn't doing what he was meant to come over for, he had no doubt they wouldn't hesitate to sack him off and call Bramble back.
The thought of that made his fists clench.
"Well, it might be better if you remember I'm not here to hang out."
"Oh, so this is just work for you?" She sighs like one of the actresses she would direct. "And here I thought there was something special between us."
That shouldn't sting as much as it does. She doesn't mean it. She doesn't even know.
"Not my fault you're wrong." He plays along. "Look, let's just do an hour at least. Then if your parents come in, they'll keep of your back for the rest of the night."
Squirrel pouts sulkily and Crow knows she's considering it. She never let it look like she was giving up. She always had to show some restraint, real or imaginary. He turns back to the textbook now. He scans through for subjects she needs work on. He's split between starting with Poetry or Analysing the role of women in Dystopian Fiction.
There is a creaking that moves across the bed towards him. Two hands curl on the base of his skull, digging in softly. He knows from the extra weight that she has balanced her chin on her hands. It's not a lot of force he needs to keep himself up, but the heat on his face is slightly worrying.
He feels her elbows on his shoulders. "Can't we make it half an hour?" She asks her human table.
Somehow, he shrugs. "If you want your mother to get the belt, sure."
"You'd like the pain."
"If it's yours, then you're damn right."
"Sadist."
They both talk so simply, words rolling off in the natural balance they'd built.
She sighs, her hands move off his head and onto his shoulders. His body is dragged back a little as she curves back with a contemplating mutter. A twist of shame and a happy flutter simultaneously come over the boy. He almost feels he could lose his balance. The fear of discovery is what keeps him stoic. He wonders a little if he's always been like this about these things. He doesn't think it was like this around Feather, but how could he know? Denial was probably his eternal security when it came to his own pathetic attempts of keeping cool.
The fingers on his shoulders all tap then slap down lightly. "An hour and then a movie?"
"Sure."
"Can I pick it?"
"Will it be Breakfast Club?"
"Possibly."
He didn't know how many times she'd seen it, but four was enough for him. "An hour and something new."
Squirrel leans forward again; she practically sings into his ear. "Can I still pick the new film?"
He says yes, if only to make sure she can't see his eyes widen.
She doesn't as she falls back, shoving him gently. "Let's start with poetry then. I'd rather get the worst done quickly."
It doesn't go quickly for her, Crow can see. After every point she makes she checks the clock and audibly gnashes her teeth when she sees only another minute has passed. With an actor's heart, she falls back dramatically at least half a dozen times, murmuring a prayer. Crow learns not to pay her the attention after the third time. They needed to get the work done. It turns out the best trick to get her back up is to just tap her ankle with the textbook, gently prodding her like a woodpecker, until she sits back up.
But as dramatic and reserved as she was, she definitely isn't an idiot. She doesn't stumble on her points. They come out smooth and rehearsed with the diction of someone who knows what they're talking about. Presumably because she knew if she struggled it would mean more time on the stuff she hated. That makes it go just a little quicker.
She actually answers them easier than when Crow has to speak, to her evil delight.
"I thought you were meant to be the tutor here."
"I'd call myself your warden more than anything."
Crow isn't as annoyed as would have been. He can't deny that she's smarter than him here. Bragging rights were hers.
Besides, she looked happy.
Also, he'd get his chance to brag eventually. They'd have to move onto math sooner or later.
They only get two interruptions through the whole hour. The first is Sandstorm, under the guise of checking in on them, asking if they needed anything. Once she saw her daughter actually working, Crow was relieved to see her grin at him thankfully before heading away. He'd been holding in that breath of relief like an ancient treasure.
The second is Moth, carrying in an iced tea for Squirrel and a mocha (with a froth of whipped cream stirred in) for Crow. She'd been getting drinks for her and Leaf and said she felt guilty if they weren't getting anything as well. Crow has to admit, Leaf had great taste in women. Moth was almost unnervingly friendly and bizarrely just as much of a genius as her girlfriend, she'd already been offered a medical scholarship. It was even more amazing considering what Crow had heard about her… background.
Leaf had been right about that Hawk guy. She didn't mention him much, but when he came up and Moth was in the room, the girl shook with such sheer fear that Crow would not have imagined it was her brother they'd mentioned.
Apparently, she was doing better though. For reasons that Crow knew were none of his business, Hawk had been thrown out of his and Moth's home. Where he was now, Moth didn't know and didn't want to find out. The others respected that. All they needed to do was stand by her and help if she needed it. But her auburn hair looked less withered, her cheeks had more colour, and she showed off her impressive height without the scrunched gait she had seemed to linger in before.
As long as she was happy, Leaf was happy. Crow and Squirrel just did what they could to make sure it stayed that way.
And that was easy when she was so damn nice. That mocha had been delicious.
Five minutes later, they call it a session.
"That's a wrap!" Squirrel stretches her arms up triumphantly. The sleeves she wears are too big and roll down clumsily. She says it makes her look bigger. Crow doesn't get the logic but he says nothing.
"For today." Crow spites playfully.
His friend makes a raspberry. "That's all that matters." As if the tension and stress has evaporated, she jumps off of the bed, rushing over to her Blu-ray collection. Crow still feels like he should whistle at the multitude of titles she owned, they must have made up at least $300. He'd mentioned it once. She'd shot back if it was necessary to own a dozen pairs of running shoes. He had tried to tell her how each shoe was more adaptable to certain tracks or states of weather, but she was about as interested as he'd been about why it was necessary to own, like six, various versions of Blade Runner.
Whatever they did with their money, they decided, was their own business.
"What to watch. What to watch." She pulls cases out one by one, her face igniting with thought at every cover.
Crow rolled his head back onto the head of her bed. "Pick anything." He isn't that fussy about these things. Whether it was some art-house thing he wouldn't understand, or some Disney flick where Squirrel would know the words to every song in the thing, and sing along right in front of him, he'd sit and watch.
"Oh okay, then-"
He just makes it. "Not Breakfast Club!"
"Spoilsport…"
"Don't you get bored of watching that thing every day?" He asks flatly.
"Do you get bored of running around the same track every week?"
Oh, he is so not ready to play this game. "Okay, whatever. Point taken." His eyes close, listening to her fumble through the films. Every so often he hears her murmur something like "Nah, not his best film" or "Bit too sappy for him". She's analysing her decisions around him. Crow doesn't know what to think about that. It makes her sound like she knows him so well. It's a little embarrassing. But then he considers how she's clearly trying to pick something she thinks he'll enjoy. And it's based on the tastes she associates with him.
Crow's stomach goes light. Did she often think about what he liked? Was he that easy to read? He inhales, his nostrils feel numb. He knows he's overthinking this. All he really knew for sure was that she wanted to make sure he enjoyed her pick.
He's content with that.
She pulls out Jackass with a smirk, shaking it at him. "Too close to home?"
"It's in your hands."
"Touché. I've already picked something anyway." She rises, holding a film called Little Miss Sunshine. Crow doesn't recognise it. The title makes his mouth twist though. You never knew what you were in for when it came to Squirrel.
"What's it about?"
She places the film in the player, looking back at him with a glint. "I find it best when you go into films without knowing anything about them."
Crow regrets asking. This girl could be impossible. "That's not very smart advice."
"Why's that?"
"Like, what if I hated horror movies and someone stuck one on without me knowing? Or if some weirdo stuck on some porno flick or something?"
Squirrel stands up, swipes a lock of hair behind her shoulder and holds the cover up with a terse look on her face. "Does this look like some horror porno to you?"
"Knowing you, I can't trust the cover."
She chuckles, sitting down on the end of the bed with the remote. She's a mix of irritated and playful. "Tell you what, if at any point some guy ends up cut in half or gets his dick out, I'll turn it off. Happy?"
"Is this secretly some plan to get rid of me?"
She shrugs. "Don't need a plan, the door's right there if I need to kick you out. Now do you want to watch the movie or not?"
He's not that bothered about the film. But he knows she wants him to watch it, and he knows he'll enjoy hearing her talk about it. So they watch it. Crow actually enjoys it quite a bit. Some road trip movie about a family taking their youngest daughter to a beauty pageant. It's acted great, and there are enough twists to keep Crow entertained (the ending scene is genuinely hilarious to him though).
And when he looks like he's enjoying it, the faces Squirrel makes make his night.
She always likes having a discussion after every film they watch. It's clear that she loves film with a passion. Every character, every scene, even down to the ways the camera moves, Squirrel has an opinion on it all. And it's not like she's pretentious about it in anyway. She's convincing and always leaves Crow points where he can offer his own point. He doesn't do it much (He'd rather hear it from someone who actually knows what they're talking about). It's just fun. She's passionate about this and Crow likes to see that.
Although she does slip sometimes.
Such as tonight. She's talking about how the protagonist is able to go against the conformities of beauty and success when Crow hears her voice tighten just a hint. He realises it's odd to notice these things, but maybe he is odd when it comes to her. He's seen her like this before, not in a while but it still leaves him cold.
"Isn't that the point though?" Crow says. They're sat at the head of her bed, side by side. "They realise she can do things her own way. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"Of course it is." Squirrel lays down, her ginger locks look like gleaming spiderwebs on the pillow. Her face is hardened on the ceiling. She pauses a moment. "It just sucks though, doesn't it?"
"What does?"
"Like, the fact those pageants exist. I mean, I get that it gives some kids confidence or something. But there's at least ten more kids who watch that shit and think they're too fat or too, just, like, not normal to do anything in it?"
"I feel like there's some projecting going on here." Crow says slowly, leaning onto his elbow. The bed is remarkably soft and he almost falls off."
Squirrel narrows her eyes at him. "You think I'm wrong?"
"I never said that." Crow flicks a strand of hair over her nose, she creases and blows it away. "It's bullshit, any idiot can see that. But why are you so worried about it? Have you got a pageant life I don't know about?"
She punches his elbow, but she's laughing. "You wish, perv. I just don't think it's right, that's all."
"I agree with you on that. But it's not like you're conforming to anything right?"
She blinks at him.
"I mean, you make movies and you're really good at it."
Was he putting too much effort with the 'really'? He doesn't try to think about it. "I haven't heard anyone hate on your festival picture, and reminder." He pokes her arm. "You came in the top five in that national contest!"
Her eyes flutter. "It was actually a regional contest."
Crow waves a hand at the air, as if batting away wasps. "Who the hell cares? Fact is, you're great at it!"
"Great." It's just one word. But Crow hears something different in how she says it. Small and curious, perhaps suspicious. It's infrequent, but Crow panics whenever he hears it on her. He feels like the signature on a poorly made painting. He tries to picture what normal was for him and he thinks back to when thought of Squirrel or the idea of friends with nothing but disgust.
That normal was impossible to want, yet Crow missed the routine of not giving a shit.
He can only go with it. Keep his face like stone. "Obviously. Every idiot is great at something."
Maybe remembering her own self, but her eyes still glimmering, Squirrel sits up with a cheeky look. "Oh, you mean how you were great at running?"
The relief of the straight line is temporary. "Yeah exact-" His eyebrows curve up. "I'm sorry. Were?"
Squirrel smiles at him with a look that's almost sympathetic! She pats his back like she's a mother comforting a child. "Don't look like that Crow, just because you can't run it doesn't mean you're a loser to me."
He starts ranting about doctors' orders and muscle strains as she laughs hard. He 'argues' his point for what might be ten minutes before Fireheart sticks his head in to ask about the racket. Crow has the sense to look apologetic while Squirrel explains they were done with the tutoring.
"Sounds like it too." Fireheart says his arms crossing. Though his hair burns ginger like his daughter's, there is a seasoned hardness on his face. Crow doesn't want to get on his bad side.
"Sorry about that." Crow says, easing away from the man's daughter just a little. Fireheart smiles, unoffended.
"I'm kidding. It's fine." He nods to Crow. "Thanks for coming to help. It's good to know Squirrel is getting some work done."
Squirrel blushes furiously, "Dad!"
The man laughs genially, "Lighten up, kiddo!" Off of his daughter's sulking look, he looks back at Crow. "Would you like me to give you a ride back home?"
The boy thinks that's his signal to go, but before he can agree Squirrel cuts in. "We were actually just going to give Feather and Storm a call before he goes. It's been a while."
Crow is surprised by the change in plans, but he doesn't object to it. It has been a while since they last spoke to their friend. Plus, he wasn't in any hurry to go.
"Ah." Fireheart makes a sound of agreement. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Well just give me a call if you want me to take you home, or I could call Ashfoot to come get you if you like?"
The friendliness of the man encourages Crow a little. "Thanks. I'll let you know."
Fireheart nods again. But this time he gives Crow the spasm of an eye that almost looks like a wink. And was that a smirk? Crow feels his throat dry up again.
Squirrel sighs irritably once he's gone, "That's why I want a lock."
Crow coughs to cover his unwinding nerves. "So we're calling Feather and Storm?"
The girl beams, reaching to her bag to pull out her laptop. She slides her belly across the bed, lifting her legs and resting them on Crow's knees. "Of course, we are! You'll want to see her again, no doubt." He thinks she's smirking. Crow's eyes dim.
"Not funny."
"It's true."
It isn't. But what can he say. As far as she knows, nothing was different about him. That hurt a little. It almost made it look like there was no point in thinking he could ever move on. But he had, he'd done it before she'd left.
But the idea that Squirrel would realise that scared the shit out of him.
Her legs swing away from him as she walks towards the door, "I'll go ask Leaf if she wants to join. Don't jump out the window or anything."
Crow picks his head up, mimicking being annoyed rather than perturbed. "You know me."
Squirrel blasts him a wiggle of her brows and then she's gone. Taking her presumptions and theories with her. It's strange to be alone in her room. It's like she's never gone. Crow sighs at the way his stomach is throbbing. He's stuck in a paradox. He didn't want to be found out. But the way she misjudged him, or his feelings, still stung no matter how stupid it really was.
She no doubt was going off to Leaf about him seeing Feather again, like it was some Romeo and Juliet type bullshit. That wasn't it at all. If they looked at him when he saw his old crush again, there wouldn't be anything like that. He missed Feather terribly. She was a great friend to have around. They all missed her like that.
But that added glow that came to her face so long ago. That was gone.
Or rather, it's spotlight was centred on someone new.
...
So I decided I wanted to add a little more to this Human AU. I'm not going to have it be one big one shot though. This will come in parts here and there, but the added story is based like a one shot that has a clear beginning, middle and end. I just want it to be a bit split up this time around. That way I don't need to work on it all in one go and I can split my time between this and ILYL (or any other one shots I feel I have the energy to create). Now that this is done, back to work on ILYL. Hopefully it'll be soon.
Hope this part was enjoyable. Leave a review or fave if it was.
And like always, I'll talk to you in a while.
Thanks for reading.